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starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies · 7 months ago

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The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

Writing Masterlist

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

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tteokdoroki · 11 months ago

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THE PERFECT SHADE OF PURPLE - suguru geto.

✩ — about. “i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.” suguru geto never thought he’d end up here. in a new city with a new job and a new life. he never wanted to lose his little sister to his best friend. he never wanted to replace her. never wanted to fuck someone who looked exactly like her. but here you are, and geto can’t help but want you the same way he wants her. he just had to get that off his chest… ( 11.4K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! dark content, nsfw, smut, hurt-comfot, open ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au (read part one here !), bakery!au, italics mean the characters are speaking in japanse, situationships, co-dependency ( on suguru geto ), manipulation, gaslighting, praise, use of oni-chan/nii chan/imouto, fingering (f!receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, creampies, bilingual!geto, japanese speaking + fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hehe hi everyone!!! pls im reposting this again :( it was written as a gift for @todorosie and the very idea spawned from her love for geto in my AITA gojo fic !! it’s sort of a continuation and set in the same universe so you might need to read to understand the plot. special thanks to @antizenin for beta reading n helping me come up with some ideas !! enjoy guys, mwah mwah - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

look, i know it’s bad… but my adopted sister and i were always close. she looked up to me and needed me for everything, up until a month ago when she betrayed my trust and fucked my childhood best friend. i got a therapist, went low contact and moved to a completely different country in order to avoid w everything. but nothing helped, i think of my sister every day and sometimes… i picture bad, dirty things. recently i met this girl, she’s the spitting image of my adoptive little sister. they look the same, act the same — i think i’ve started falling for her. i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.

TLDR: i’m fucking and have feelings for a girl that’s a carbon copy of my adopted younger sibling.

the city of new york is meant to be the city of dreams.

at any given moment, your fate can change. anything can happen here, you can make it big and live out your life or you can go home and lead one of regret. suguru geto feels like neither are true for him. the bustling city and flashing lights, busy concrete streets and honking taxis bring the dark haired man anything but joy. suguru isn’t happy here, in new york, despite all the wonders that it holds — irregardless of the grand job opportunity he has waiting for him just around the corner.

suguru geto had the chance of a lifetime to develop his career as a criminal defence lawyer in one of the most opportune cities in the world. his dream since he was old enough to understand the wrongs of the world.

but that’s merely not enough to keep him content, to make him want to stay.

he doesn’t want to go home either, he’s sure he would hate himself for thattoo. it would be a waste of suguru’s talents to return to japan prematurely, with its nauseating air and sense of betrayal that follows him everywhere he goes. home is supposed to be where one is happiest and safest — it’s where his family is, where he was raised and first opened his eyes. but for the lawyer, japan no longer serves to comfort him and only constantly reminds the man of his little sister, who’d fucked his best friend just a month prior.

that very instance was enough reason for him to leave the country in the first place — he had to get out, had to escape the very fact that haunted him day and night.

like any other adult with a shit load of trauma, suguru invests in the best therapist his money can buy — especially now that he can’t spoil is younger sister with it. the older woman with her stuffy office, beady eyes and chipped painted nails had prescribed the man with a short break, a change of pace from the life he was used to, to give himself the grace and time to heal from the heartbreak of losing the two most important people in his life. his best friend, satoru gojo, and his adoptive little sister.

he had no idea where gojo was now, thirty days later, and suguru knew his little sister had probably moved out of their hometown by now to kick start her career. so even if all of that meant that suguru geto could go home…he wouldn’t. he would use the vastness of new york to give himself the breathing room he needed to heal, fill his bloodstream with fresh oxygen so that it would clot and cover up his fresh wounds of betrayal, turn scabs into scars and let him slowly recover.

at least that’s what his therapist had told him to do — in the suffocating purple walls of her office.

yet, so far, suguru’s escape to new york hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. every corner of the city painfully reminds him of the hole in his heart, where his innocent little sister should be. after her graduation he’d planned on taking her here as a reward for all of her hard work, but now, suguru faces his own bitter reality — every landmark has her face etched into its side, skyscrapers and their glass windows refract the light of her smile, while famous dinner spots tie to the endless list of reservations she’d reminded suguru to make. hell, even his daily routine of hailing infamous yellow taxi cabs reminds him of her precious excitement to go.

new york was a city big enough for both geto siblings, but too large for just the one.

it’s a wonder that suguru has been able to live without his sister for this long — it’s only been a month but he’s spent his entire life looking out for her. protecting her. he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has all this extra time.

suguru knew that she was way too dependent on him, it was bad — he was painfully aware of that. but he couldn’t help it, she needed someone to protect her and nurture her, she needed someone to teach her about the dangers of the world. she needed her big brother. perhaps if the dark haired man had been less protective of his sister and given her some sort of independence… then maybe he wouldn’t miss her so much, he wouldn’t have lost his best friend as collateral damage in the process. he would still have the two of them, and she could be happy with gojo.

the guilt of what ifs and what could have beens tirelessly weigh down suguru’s heart at the thought — he caused this. this rift between the soul-bonded pair. if he had raised her better, let her spread her wings like a free bird, then he would still have her in his life.

at this point, he’s realised something dire. suguru can’t live without her, his little sister. her bright eyes in the morning and the sweet tune to her voice when she calls out for him — it’s weird, it’s bad…how much he misses and needs her. borderlining on strange, it’s only now that suguru realises how unhealthy their dynamic as siblings had been. how reliant he was on his baby sister to need him. it should have never been that way, he shouldn’t need her so desperately to function. keeping her under such a close watch was probably what drove her into the arms of satoru in the first place.

the concrete wilderness of suguru’s new home provides no relief from these epiphanies and the chambers of his heart that slowly seem to be dying without his sister. instead he feels trapped in his own addiction, as if he’s going through the withdrawal after dependency on drugs.

whenever suguru feels immense waves of guilt, like a tsunami that might pull him under and replace the clean air in his lungs with the murky water of his own sour thoughts and emotions; whenever he misses home a little too much; whenever he feels like the world his crashing down on him once more — his therapist and her purple nails tapping against her clip board comes to mind. she tells suguru to take a walk, especially when he’s overcome with thoughts of the situation back in december. when his chest feels too tight and feels like picking up the phone and calling his sister before he’s ready to.

so geto does just that, lugging on his winter coat as he prepares to take a walk downtown while the sun sets.

suguru tends to think that his therapist is full of shit.

she believes in the colour purple, she believes that there is purpose and meaning in concepts like colours that are based on fact and science. the light reflects, and people see colour.

as she had explained to the man in an hour long session just two weeks ago, purple is supposed to be the colour of healing; though to suguru, purple makes him feel sick. it’s everywhere, in the lavander-ish off-white walls of his new york-rented apartment, the flowers in the stalls on his way to work, the skies at night. suguru thought he was a rational man, that he was calm and collected — able to see the reasons behind everything he comes across…but he still doesn’t understand the significance of colours like purple and its connection to healing.

all suguru knows is that he did like the pretty hollow shade that formed a ring around satoru’s bright blue eyes. of course, after having the shit beaten out of him for touching what belonged to suguru. for corrupting his innocent baby sister.

aside from that, tonight’s walk is mostly uneventful, full of couples getting ready for date night and business people heading home to their happy families for the night. suguru despises them, strangers on the street minding their own business. he hates these passer-bys for their happiness, a joy he can no longer experience. going home. it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

he misses his family. the warmth and love from his mother, the poor jokes from his father… the looks of adoration and hugs from his sister. it’s not fair. he shouldn’t have had to give that up because of the selfish actions of his ex-best friend.

suguru decides to turn back and head for his apartment when the street lamps start to flicker and turn on.

however, on his commute, a familiar scent tickles his senses and brushes over his nose. the man finds himself following, enchanted by rich flavours that he recognises from his youth — sweet red bean and spicy curries overlay the city’s natural smells and suguru makes an attempt to track it down. like a fool, he sprints after the scent like a hound dog tracking a hunt and stops a few strides short of a quaint japanese bakery with a set of deep indigo flowers climbing up it’s worn down exterior.

suguru recognises the flowers to be shobu. irises.

standing before the sliding doors, geto inhales, overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. the sweet smell triggers memories of home and how his parents would take him and his sister out to get treats when they were small. how that became a tradition for the geto siblings when they were old enough to go out on their own.

he remembers how his sister would beg him for a box of sakura mochi every time they went, and how he would so easily relent — even if it meant spending all of that week’s pocket money. suguru is so carried away with his thoughts that he hardly notices himself taking steps into the bakery, or lining up at the counter, or you.

calling him up to the counter.

you’re a pretty girl. that’s the first thing suguru notices. your eyes are beautiful, a deep brown that reminds him of roasted chestnuts and warm chocolates, your face is round with a soft edge of youth. the uniform that you wear hugs every dip and curve of your body and the braids you have are lengthy and black, perfectly framing your face. when you speak, your voice carries gentle dulcet notes that make suguru’s heart flutter — like music to his ears.

you are one thousand percent suguru geto’s type and everything about you, this little bakery attendant, reminds suguru of his younger sister.

right then and there, everything clicks into place for him.

“sir, can i get you anything?” you ask him kindly, not wanting to push or scare away a potential customer. nor pressure the handsome stranger, since he’s holding up your line. “sir?” you repeat, finally garnering his attention after squirming under his intense stare.

not that you mind being stared at by him, for this particular customer is right up your alley.

from his milky skin, desperate to be marked, to his lengthy dark tresses that you’re dying to pull at and tug. his jaw is angular, sharp enough to the point where you fear you would cut yourself should you have the chance to touch it. despite the razor edges to his features, he looks kind…almost wistful, at most. a quality that does nothing to calm the hungry flame catching light in your lower tummy.

the two of you remain admiring one another until a customer in the queue clears their throat impatiently — causing both of you to jump.

“s-sorry,” geto mumbles the apology quickly, his pale cheeks tinged with a subtle pink despite how hot they feel. he’s suddenly become all too aware of the line that he’s holding up. one that he’s not even supposed to be in, since he’d walked in here on instinct anyway. his dark, narrow eyes sweep the counter in search for something, anything to order so that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot in front of you or the rest of the customers.

more specifically, yourself.

“i would recommend the sakura mochi,” then, like an angel sent from the heavens, you try your luck in conversing with suguru in japanese. his nervous and skittish gaze shoots up to your face, shoulders sagging in relief and familiarity. you truly are like a piece of home. like his little sister. suguru likes that more than a normal man should. “they’re popular amongst our customers, it’s taken our owner years to perfect her recipe with the ingredients here. especially since leaving japan.”

suguru grins and nods, spotting the dessert he’s so accustomed to buying in the display cabinet. his heart lurches, yearning for his little sister. “these?” he whispers to you, the syllables of his native language curling around his tongue naturally. “they look just like the ones from home.”

there’s a sparkle in your eyes when he responds, and you continue to speak to him in sugary tones. “they taste just as goodtoo, i promise!”

“then, i’ll take a box.”

“how many? they come in boxes of four, eight and sixteen pieces.”

“just the four, please.”

taking your tongs from the metal counter behind the cabinet, you fish out four of the best pieces of sakura mochi and tentatively place them into a pre-folded cardboard box for the handsome customer. as he dives deep into his pocket for his card to pay, you quickly add an extra piece — uttering something about it being on the house under your breath.

the action leaves both of you bashful and suguru taps his card on the machine you’ve set up for him to pay. “ah, thank you…” suguru searches for your name in the candy scented air and you tap your badge with a cute acrylic nail to draw attention to your name which he breathes out in a husky tone, failing to mask its curious lilt as he returns to english.

“no worries, have a good evening, sir.” you giggle shyly, still managing to bid him farewell.

on his way home, suguru can’t help but to replay the entire interaction in his head over and over again. in his brief three minutes of meeting you, you’d managed to fix the hole in his heart, help it beat properly again. you’re just like her, his little sister, and that is a dangerous fact.

he reaches his apartment with a flushed face, feeling a little flustered, but a lot better than he was before the start of his walk.

after work, a few days later, geto finds himself back in front of the bakery, working up the courage to go inside and see you.

no matter how hard he tried and how much of his work he tried to throw himself into — suguru couldn’t get the vision of you out his head. your saccharine laugh haunted him as he reviewed case files, your timid smile chased him through his lunch break and your small act of kindness (speaking with him in Japanese) has him all worked up and blushing by the time he’s able to clock out for the day.

the dark haired man feels insane, he knows that this is weird — projecting the image of his adoptive sister onto you, but like a man on drugs he can’t seem to quit. he needs to get his fix. he needs to see you again. entering the bakery once again is like stepping into a new domain, and suguru damn near forgets his simple plan to talk to you. order sakura mochi, say thank you, and leave. while he waits in the queue, his courage mounts in slow stacks and anxiety fades, but by the time he’s up front and face to face with you again — suguru’s brain is completely wiped of every word he was going to say.

“ah, it’s you again!” you greet him in japanese once more, instinctively reaching to brush your braids out of your face in order to look more presentable to the handsome stranger who’s been plaguing your thoughts as well. suguru thinks you’re cute, regardless of the rice flour smeared across your cheeks and the various mysterious (though surely tasty) stains that decorate your uniform. he even finds it endearing, the way that you share the same nervous gesture of playing with the ends of your braids like his little sister. “i was just wondering when you were going to come in from the… mmm, cold? you’ve been standing and… uh! staring from out there for a while.” you continue to tease the man warmly in his native tongue, choosing your words carefully and avoiding eye contact with him while you prep the tongs for his order. “what can i get for you today?”

so much for not humiliating himself in front of the pretty girl. “i’m sorry… i’ll just take some sakura mochi again,” suguru begins, this time in english to spare you the trouble of overthinking everything that you say. “i was trying to figure out how to do this,” he places a wad of cash on the counter while you prepare his order. your chocolatey eyes blow wide, sweet glazed lips parting softly at the mere sight. you’re sure there’s enough money in the stack to cover an entire week’s worth of your wages and if a stranger can just give away such a large amount… it makes you wonder what he’s even doing at a humble place like this. “it’s a tip from last time. i never got to thank you.”

“oh… i was just doing my job!” you stammer out politely and prepare to reject the tip, but suguru refuses to let you refuse his gift — forcefully pushing the ‘tip’ over the edge of the glass. he really couldn’t help but to give the money to you, hardly fighting the urge to spoil you with cash like he would with his little sister. besides, the man earned more than enough to drop it on you without putting a dent in his pocket.

“you did more than that… just the simple act of kindness in conversing with me, a stranger, in japanese. that was nice of you.” suguru counters. “thank you. how did you know?”

you work on preparing a thin and white cardboard box for his order before walking along the dessert counter, followed by you. “i had a feeling, a lot of people come in here when they’re missing something,” he frowns and your eyes finally meet his. “someone.” you breathe out, quietly. “i took a guess, figured you might have been from japan.”

“well, you were correct…”

your heart skips a beat at the sound of your name on his tongue as he says it. it’s so gentle it makes you feel faint and you’re absolutely charmed by a man you hardly know. “does that earn me brownie points…?” you trail off, wanting to capture his name.

“suguru.”

“ah, suguru meaning…” giving the man a once over, you drink in his tall frame and dark eyes, the small quirk to his plush lips as he smiles at you… and think. he’s the perfect man in every way, soft spoken and clement, even if he did have flaws or a dark secret — you would definitely choose to ignore it in favour of spending more time with him. once you find the word you’re looking for (and snap out of staring at the poor guy) you speak again. “excellence…it suits you.”

geto chuckles quietly in response, amused by your take away. “your name suits you too, darling. it’s just as beautiful as you.”

when you giggle and grow shy at his compliment — the honeyed melody only serves to remind suguru of his little sister once more. in that moment, he feels something bad and almost wretched stir in his gut just from watching you turn bashful over him. a dark thought in the back of his kind tells him to keep you, so that he can see you like this more often. it urges him to make you need him. like he would have with his little sister.

he’s starting to project, he’s sure, but you make it easy for him, with your puppy dog eyes and tiny little smiles. once geto’s order is packed, four little squares of sakura mochi wrapped in emerald green and brined sakura leaf — smelling of spring and red bean, he pays (with a hefty tip) and inspects the box. “you’ve got to stop giving me things for free, darling. we’ve only just met.” he chides fondly, scolding you like a child as if to make sure you won’t get in trouble with your job. he’s counted five mochi instead of four — just like last time. “won’t this hurt business?” he coos down at you — sending your body into a fit of shivers despite the warmth of your uniform.

“well, i’d consider us friends now that you’ve come specifically to see me. friends can’t give each other gifts?” you quip cheekily — much like suguru’s sister would. “you got to spoil me today, no one is going to notice an extra piece of mochi going missing.”

“friends it is,” surugu purrs right back in satisfaction, preparing to take his leave. cautiously, as though not to spook you like a hunter after a deer in the woods — he reaches over the counter to pat your head affectionately, internally pleased with the way you keen into his touch. “i hope to see my new friend around more often, then.” he hums with pride, and you nod your head eagerly.

like a puppy. like you want to please him.

it reminds geto all too much of his little sister — who only ever wanted to make the dark haired man proud.

over the coming weeks, suguru finds himself at the bakery more often than not. as though it’s a part of his daily routine.

he’ll take his walk after work, stop by and purchase some sakura mochi, before leaving you with another little gift. at first, his gifts started out as wads of cash in place of tips, then slowly turned to more materialistic things, items that you could hood or wear as if they were to geto’s his claim on you. like flowers, jewellery or clothes. things you couldn’t afford on your own, things he’d like to see you in, things his little sister would like to receive if they were still in contact with one another.

suguru knows that you can’t afford these things because you’ve let it slip over coffee and mochi that you rent the apartment above the bakery from the old woman who owns it and can barely afford the new york rent as well. he also learns that you were hired because of your ability to speak, read and write in Japanese.

as much as suguru has spoiled you in the last few weeks, you won’t let him pay your rent though, so tips have sufficed for now.

nowadays, the time spent moping around his apartment while mourning the relationships that he lost are spent growing increasingly obsessive over you. hours upon hours are wasted on thoughts of what gift he might buy you next — like more comfortable work shoes, an umbrella to get you home safe during the rain that just so happens to be designer. suguru spoils you under the guise of just being your friend — at least that’s what it is to you.

to him, he’s spoiling his baby sister. someone who is feeble and needs his help and his protection. he doesn’t tell his therapist any of this, of course, she would deem it unhealthy to see how much of his money and time he’s blown in a little cafe worker.

a cafe worker who’s important to suguru, who haunts his dreams with her perfect curves, and pouty lips whenever he brings you a small gift of his affections. “sugu,” you’ve resorted to calling him, just like his sister would. the nickname was the result of a time where you’d written his name on a coffee order, and customers complained you were taking too long. so geto had told you that you could call him ‘sugu’ instead. however, he would omit details on how badly it affected his brain chemistry …to hear someone he cared for call him that again. “you don’t have to get me an expensive gift just because i make you coffee and get you sweet treats.”

“it’s not just because you get me sweet things or make me coffee,” he had responded, leaning over the counter flirtatiously. “it’s because you do such a good job. you take care of me and my order every evening. make sure i get the best of the best. how could i not thank my sweet little barista.”

you wouldn’t say it, but he knew you liked the praise. he wondered if you felt as dirty and as thrilled as him during these little exchanges between the two of you. on that specific occasion, geto decided to gift you with a pendant, similar to the one he’d gotten his sister — only this time, a purple amethyst sits in its centre rather than the blue gem all too familiar to satoru gojo’s piercing eyes.

maybe this is what his therapist meant by healing. suguru is healing by getting over his sister and replacing her with you.

you are the one that haunts his dreams now, makes his cock stir inappropriately. another thing that suguru woulda never tell his therapist — is that sometimes when he really needed it, he would think of his little sister while fisting his cock into the night air. they weren’t really related, only by adoption so it wasn’t too wrong. sometimes he’d think of her getting railed by satoru, but nowadays he would think of you on his cock instead, calling out for suguru like you need him to function.

‘nii-san!’ - this and ‘please sugu! ’- that, each word uttered in his sister’s voice would quickly morph into yours — the quivering sweet sound always resembling his little sister’s when she cried. suguru, the dark haired man, imagined you would react the same. and more often than not, it was your face that he pictured when he was about to cum.

every single gift suguru got for you were the result of him dreaming about how much he needed you, someone to spoil and protect. someone to need him.

tonight, suguru is a little late for his daily visit to your bakery.

tonight, an important case at his firm had rolled in at the last minute and required attention before a preliminary hearing — but even his job couldn’t keep suguru geto away from you. when he arrives at the bakery, you’re still there, having left the doors unlocked for him to come inside.

tonight, there is no long line of customers out the door to build up the anticipation between you both, the lights have already been deemed and there’s not a trace of life inside of the bakery. aside from yourself, of course.

tonight, you’re on the closing shift instead of the owner’s grandson, choso. who you reassured suguru you weren’t interested in the first time they’d met. with gentle eyes that masked the dark haired man’s fury, geto had told you that he was the only man you’d ever need and you believed him — suguru had a charm for making people dependent on him.

the tiny silver bell stationed at the door jingles and signals geto’s arrival, but you hardly look up from your work — keeping your back to him while you sweep at nothing. you’re hiding the excitement that prickles down your spine, you’ve been waiting to get the man alone for weeks and now that you’re able to… you can hardly contain yourself.

“excuse me, uh…” he says your name so sweetly, as though the words on his tongue are laced with honey. pretending not to know you only makes tonight more thrilling. “are you open? do you have any sakura mochi to spare?” it’s only then that you whirl around to face suguru, your deep brown eyes still bright despite the dimness of the empty bakery — they sparkle with elation, and the plump curve of your lips spike up into an easy smile. you’ve been waiting, suguru notes, like a good little girl.

like a puppy waiting for her owner.

you’ve been waiting to see him.

anticipation claws at the air, sending ripples of kinetic energy into the space between you both — where suguru waits at the door and you stand front and centre in the middle of the room. his murky eyes slink down to your neck where one hand fiddles with the silver chain of your pendant, your nails tapping at the amethyst in its centre. in the same way his sister does when she’s nervous.

neither of you know what’s going to happen tonight, now that you’re finally alone.

“we have some in the back,” you swallow down the heartbeat in your throat you nod shyly when you finally speak. it’s weird how your body has started to react to suguru after weeks of getting to know him, being spoiled by him. the clothes you wear are now covered in traces of him, the jewellery you own is paid for by his dime. this…stranger, who you hardly know yet feel like you know everything about, has invaded every inch of your life… and you’re not even mad about it. you’d rather die than let this go. “i just need to lock up first. if you’ll give me a moment.”

you approach him cautiously, practically pressing your breasts against his chest as you reach behind the man to lock the doors he stands in front of. suguru can already tell that the mood today is different — full of hunger and expectations for something less polite than evening chatter and gift exchanges. his dark eyes follow your every move across the bakery like a wolf tracking the scent of prey.

“why don’t you come with me to the back? and if you don’t mind, could you carry a bag or two of that rice flour? it’s too heavy for me on my own?” you ask him after backing away with a glint in your eye. naughty, naughty. geto likes the fact that you’re asking him, that you need him and he can be your strong suguru.

“sure, anything for you.” he agrees a little bit too quickly, removing his work jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. suguru discards his tie as well — before lifting a sack of rice flower with ease. he pretends not to notice the way you ogle the bulge in his biceps as he does so.

“thanks.” you utter, leading the way to the back of the bakery.

once the two of you arrive in the kitchens at the back, you give suguru some time to set down the sacks of flour and retreat to the many shelves of sweet treats and baked goods that you’d prepared for your shift the next day. you’re sure choso, nor his grandmother, would mind if you stole a plate of mochi for the two of you to share. they trusted you enough, but you decide to forgo telling them for now.

“i was starting to think you weren’t coming.” you say as you set the desserts out on the metal table for him, suguru hates the guilt that he feels for leaving you for so long. “seeing you is the highlight of my week.”

“are you sure it’s not the gifts that i give you?” he teases, rounding the table to take a piece of mochi from the plate at its middle. he practically moans at the flavours of cherry blossom and crystallised sugar bursting across the palette of his tongue. and for a moment, his mind slips to other territories — wandering what you’d taste like as well.

“n-no! sugu!” for the first time that night, you break character, bashfully tucking your pretty face into your shoulder as if to hide it. “i, um… i genuinely like seeing you and when you come to see me. i-it makes me feel better. being around you. i feel safer and happier.”

putting his weight onto the metal surface, suguru leans forward and cocks his head to the side in faux curiosity. your answer is just what he wanted to hear. he finally has you where he wants you, like a sweet deer in a hunter’s trap. “is that so, darling?” you shake your head yes in affirmation. “well then, you’re awfully sweet.” geto takes to praising you, licking the traces of candy from his lips and maintaining eye contact while his hand dips into the pocket of his slacks for something. “i have a gift for you, little one.”

“oh yeah?” youtoo, take a bite out of the treats you’ve laid out, munching on them casually while keeping suguru under your watchful eye.

it’s only then that pulls out a matching item of jewellery, this time, a matching anklet to the item that sits heavy at your neck. the silver chain is dotted with tinier, purple gems. a showcase of suguru’s appreciation for how much you’ve healed him — a nod to how much better he feels around you too.

“you sure do love purple for me, sugu.” you joke, laughing incredulously at the expensive gift. “it’s beautiful, thank you.” you let him circle the table to take hold of your soft hips, lifting you onto the cool surface so that geto has some leverage to put the anklet on you.

after kicking out your left foot — suguru sinks to his knees before you, and something about the way he looks up at you, with his eyebrows drawn to the centre of his forehead and his milky cheeks slightly flushed, has your heart racing and your head all dizzy. “purple is supposed to mean healing. i’ve had a tough time, being away from japan and my family…” he begins quietly, his voice is calming with lilts and drops of hunger that slips through the cracks of suguru’s caring resolve. “but you’ve made it better,” one of his large hands encircles your ankle, lifting your foot higher so that geto is easily able to remove the strap of your mary-jane shoe and replace it with the chains of your new anklet. “ah… a perfect fit.” he announces in japanese, fixing the clasp.

the whole ordeal is intimate, inviting and you feel like you might slip under the surface of dark, dangerous waters if you’re not careful. you don’t know how to swim, but something tells you that suguru will keep you afloat. “anyways, little one…” suguru continues with his monologue, whispering his words against your talus bone at the base of your leg, where it meets your foot. “you wanting me here and needing me… it heals me.”

once he’s checked that the anklet is secure, suguru reaches a hand upwards, and brushes a thumb over the swell of your glossy bottom lip to swipe away a smudge of powdered sugar from the mocha. you will yourself to speak, but you feel as though you can’t even breathe. “i’ve…healed you?”

suguru stands up, towering over you now as he moves to suck the sugar from your lips off of his thumb. “of course, little one. what else do you think you’ve been doing this whole time?” his pupils dilate, obsidian black drowning out any other colour in his eyes while closes the gap between your heated bodies. your thighs instinctively jump apart to make room for him too, allowing him to loom over you even better — following the biological call of your hearts.

the world comes to a standstill when suguru’s lips finally meet yours in a sloppy yet coordinated kiss. while his movements are messy and hungry he remains gentle with you, as though you might break from too much force. the sweltering heat of his tongue swipes eagerly but not aggressively over the seam of your mouth, dying to be let in and taste the sugar that glazes your own pink muscle. his large, unusually soft hands grasp, and squeeze and pinch at your thighs, then the fat at your hips until his thumbs are tucked under your breasts, soothing circles over the point at which the fleshy mounds join up with your rib cage.

goosebumps break out across your skin from underneath your clothes and you feed suguru a needy little squeak when he finally breaks into your mouth, his tongue lapping circles at every crevice. you sound just like her, his angelic little sister, and he treats you so gently because he would never want to hurt her. suguru has always wanted to kiss his sister, but you’ll have to do. he likes you just as much as her.

it’s that sick and twisted desire to devour his younger sibling that fuels his next movements, along with the dulcet and darling sounds you make for him. carefully and between sticky lip locks, suguru pushes you onto your back — humming in amusement when it arches away from the cool metal of the silver counter. “s-sugu,” you whimper wetly, catching your breath while his smooches cascade down to your neck and his fingers work their way through the buttons on your uniform. your own take residence in his firm and broad set shoulders, as if to steady yourself. “i haven’t… i don’t have much experience with these things a-and they’ve not been the best—“

the dark haired man chuckles softly, the sound sending a spark of lust down your spine and causing you to arch up into him as he cages you against the table. “i’ll be gentle,” he tells you firmly, in a tone that smooths over the doubts in your mind and helps you to relax. suguru will take care of everything. “you don’t have to worry. i want this to be all about you feeling good, okay?” you nod in reply and suguru sucks his teeth. “i want a verbal answer, little one.”

“yes, sugu…”

he places a chaste kiss to your collarbones then, a pleased hum vibrating against your temperate skin. “good girl.”

the next few moments are a blur as suguru geto strips you down, kissing every inch of your exposed body with each article of clothing he removes from your shaky frame. all that he leaves you with are your soiled panties after reaching around the curve of your spine to unclip your bra with one hand. it’s all so nerve wracking and invigorating all at once, you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for more.

between the chaos and rustling of his own clothes coming off, suguru presses two digits to your budding clit and your world tilts on its axis — he’s hardly touching you and yet you feel so good, especially when he rolls the swollen little nub between a thumb and forefinger. your nails form crescent moons against his shoulder in response.

you’re so overwhelmed by the patterns he traces over your clit, his name, his promises to you and your body, as well as the blood rushing to it — that you hardly notice geto’s descent on your body, the hot trail of kisses he leaves between the valley of your breasts and over your soft tummy. you just about manage to feel him over the haze in your brain when his lips hit the scalloped edge of your panties, and you jolt when the tip of his tongue forcefully traces the outline of your un-used, soaked hole from over the gusset of said garment.

the fabric darkens as your juices pool against it, mixed with the wetness of suguru’s tongue.

“will you let me pleasure you, little one?”

it’s not like you can say no (not that you want to), especially with the way geto manoeuvres your thighs to hang over the backs of his strong shoulders as he settles between your trembling legs. while he waits for your reply, he takes your wrist into his grasp and pulls one of your silk scrunchies from it — using it to tie back his luscious black hair.

you look down at him through your lashes with a painted expression of want and worry.

suguru pushes the pads of his thumbs into the globes of your ass against the cold table — massaging the flesh with mischievous eyes as your pussy gushes and leaks a fresh wave of nectar right down to the puckered ring between your ass cheeks. “just tying my hair back as a precaution,” he whispers, voice lowering an octave as his face slowly nears your clenching cunt. “i’m a messy eater…”

“a-ah! sugu!”

at first, suguru delivers a single lick to your awaiting pussy, drawing a stripe with his tongue between the length of your fat and sluice folds. then, when you cry out his name he can’t help but to latch his heated mouth onto your unattended sex, chuckling at the realisation of just how good you taste. it’s a natural flavour, with a twinge of sweetness suguru could have only hoped to imagine. he’s been waiting for this moment and to have you like this for weeks — to replace his prior daydreams of fucking his baby sister with you…and now he finally has the material to do so.

a sinful giddiness infiltrates geto’s bloodstream as he kitten licks at your pulsating mound — feeding in your arousal as it grows before inhaling deeply, nastily taking in your scent so that he can commit it to memory. “how does that feel?” he coos his words out as he hungrily nips at your sopping folds, rolling them raw between rows of perfect white teeth until you’re choking on a breath and your face scrunches adorably. “is that nice, love?”

a wet whimper lies on your kiss-swollen lips, and your hips naturally buck up to follow the warm trace of suguru’s mouth encompassing your sex. “f-feels so good! b-better than i… could have imagined,” you struggle to get out, gargling on each syllable while your chest heaves and arches away from the chilly table — giving suguru the perfect view of your bouncing breasts and only motivating him to pleasure you more. “f-fuck!”

if you were his baby sister, suguru isn’t so sure that you’d curse in front of him. she wouldn’t, she was too docile and sweet to utter a bad thing in his presence. but you, you’re both of those things and more — you lose yourself easily to the ecstasy in your veins; liquid pleasure spewing from your blistering hot cunt like a free-flowing river, painting suguru’s high cheekbones with your body’s riches. he feels blessed to be between your thighs, defiling the blossoming flower of your cunt with his eager mouth.

“you’re so…you’re so pretty when you gush like this for me. i want you to give me more.” his tongue darts along the length of your weeping slit, catching what you leak before it can go to waste on the icy table beneath your hot skin. drunk on your taste, suguru forces his flexible tongue past the tightness of your fluttering entrance. “can you do that for me?” he mouths, though whatever he says is slurred as he slowly begins to tongue fuck you.

“a-anything,” you say, breathing shallow and eyes beginning to grow teary. suguru’s tongue slips in and out of your creaming hole with rhythm, preparing you, using a pseudo sensation, for his fat cock. “anything for you! i wanna feel good for you. wanna please you!” he languidly strokes at your ribbed insides as a reward, chasing your honey nectar taste while your hips canter up and chase bud hismouth.

suguru intends to destroy you, own you and unleash all of his darkest fantasies onto you. he’s dreamed of ruining his adoptive little sister, making her cum all over him — it just so happens that you look and sound like her, you match every single one of his dreams about her, you make them all a reality. it’s only right that he pleases you and makes you see stars for needing him and relying on him so well.

he wonders if his sister would cry like you do, or if she would try to stave off her orgasm like you do. would she scream his name over the saliva pooling on her tongue like you do. eyes in the shade of deep, chocolate brown start to flutter shut at the sound of your desperate pleas as you writhe under suguru’s attention of your swollen pussy. your back sticks to the table and your thighs shake either side of suguru’s head, but he doesn’t relent on sucking the juices that cling to your pussy lips until all he can breathe is you.

his tongue twists happily against your lush walls, grasping at the essence that lines them.

“you’re doing well for me, little one, so well…” he praises you, knowing how close you’re getting. it’s in the way your body twitches with every suck to your hardened clit and the way you try to push him off of you. you need it so bad, you need him to make you cum. suguru thrusts deeper, harder and faster using his tongue — catching what dribbles from your tiny hole after it slips between your ass cheeks and pools in a puddle on the table. “i want to taste it. if you’ll cum for me, that’ll make me happy. so let me…”

suguru can’t even finish, dizzy on the taste of you like the buzz of a high. he could spend an infinite number of days between your legs. no matter how sore his knees get from kneeling between them — all he wants to do is slurp down everything that you give him, focus on making you reach pleasure of only heavenly limits in order to evade the guilt he feels. the one that causes knots to twist in geto’s stomach.

how could he do this?

how could he want this?

to fuck someone so reminiscent of his little sister.

to manipulate them into fucking him?

suguru’s name is hot on your lips, spiralling into the husky evening air. “come on, little one. cum for me,” meanwhile, his breath on your cunt makes your hips wiggle and hole spasm — a new wave of juices staining his face. it’s scent and taste coax the man into diving back into your sopping heat, the point of his nose bumping against your pleasure nub as if peeks out from beneath its hood.

“m-mph… m’kay,” comes your hushed whisper as you thread your fingers through the black roots of geto’s hair, keeping him pinned to your precious creamy core as you rut against his agile tongue. “f-feels funny!” you gasp and warble, filling the man’s mouth with your raw folds and liquid lust.

“hm?” geto hums lazily in acknowledgment, licking up to your clit so that he can replace his tongue with two digits. he works at your dripping hole, stretching it over them through the haze in his mind. he swoons at the thought of replacing those same digits with his cock next — they speed up with excitement, squelching and echoing throughout the room, overlapping with your high pitched breathy moans.

with your heart rattling against your ribcage, you can hardly fight off the urge building within your lower belly — your hips are frantic as they chase after the feeling and the burning high that crackles across your neurons. geto groans wickedly, feeling your sex spasm against his soaked lips and clench down hard on his fingers. it’s not long before he feels you succumb to your first orgasm. it washes over him in heavenly waves — clearing away his guilt and desire for his little sister while simultaneously drowning you under sinful pretences.

your entire body is racked with the case of the shakes, your eyes shooting back into the dark depths of your skull while white noise fills your ears and overlays the sound of suguru lewdly slurping at your release. speaking off, clear streams of your arousal spurt from your quivering cunt…and for the first time ever, you squirt. everywhere, all over the place, making such a mess that suguru is left gargling over everything that you give him and there’s a crude splatter as your juices hit the floor.

he doesn’t stop, however, licking you clean with his fingers continuing to curl languidly against your g-spot — over and over again.

“sugu p-please! s’too much,” you plead in the form of a heavy sob — but only god knows that you don’t want the man to stop.

“just one more for me?” he asks you tentatively, releasing your throbbing clit with a wet pop. suguru stands and you look up at him — noting the way his bangs stick to his cheeks from how wet you’ve gotten him. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you either, dragging the tips of them along your overstimulated and stretched walls. “you can do it, and if you can i’ll reward you. how does that sound, little one?” he slows his pace just enough to only have the seat of his palm salaciously grind against your clit, not wanting to hurt you.

he wouldn’t want to hurt his adoptive sister if he ever had the chance to get her spread open like this.

your face is stained with mascara, your brown eyes big and wobbly and your braids are askew — but still, you’re the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, next to her. your fingers threaten to snap shut around his wrist, but with his free hand he forces the wet and doughy flesh back open, and with a few more thrusts if his fingers, nice and tantalisingly slow, you’re cumming again in another cute, clear stream — dowsing suguru’s hand in another wash of your cum.

leaning down, suguru’s lips tainted with your arousal lean down to meet your own — capturing them in a sweet kiss to help bring you back down to earth. “what’s your colour, darling? red for bad, yellow for okay and green for good. how do you feel?”

“g-green,” you mumble, keening into his touch and craving his affection. “i feel fine, my legs won’t stop shaking. i’ve never cum like that before…”

pride blooms like a wildflower in suguru’s chest.

“well, i don’t intend on stopping, little one,” brushing your braids back into place, suguru carefully pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole and swiftly sucks them clean. “your pretty pussy is so tiny, must not have been used properly,” the vulgarity of his words have you arching for more from suguru, and you’re lucky that he’s not done with you yet. “don’t worry, love. i’ll fix that.”

you’re weak in the knees when suguru manhandles you from the table onto the floor, making sure that you’re comfortable on your tummy — he even goes as far to nestle a bag of rice flour under your hips. you pretend not to notice the way his strength makes you flutter around nothing, smearing your juices onto the bakery floor.

“i’ve been holding back quite a bit,” he murmurs against your naked shoulder blades — the dark tresses of his hair tickling your skin. “so i might not last long.” you hear a belt clink before suguru kicks his slacks off and away, rewarding your patience with a kiss against your spine. “i hope it’s okay if i just give you my all.”

from this position, it’s easy for suguru to picture his younger, adopted sister instead of you — he’s dreamed of having her present for him like this countless times, but it doesn’t compare to the way it feels having your hot body underneath him like this. your ass is so soft and pliant in his hands as he drags your hips up a little higher. another hand grasps at the hardness of his cock that’s been dripping and aching ever since geto first got his mouth on you.

with stuttering hips, he positions himself at your needy entrance, chuckling in approval when you attempt to wiggle back on him — just as hungry for this as your lover is. both of you hiss as his veiny shaft comes into contact with your sticky folds, suguru using the remnants of your orgasms to slick himself up again and make it easier for you take all of him. you can’t see him, but the dark haired man’s cheeks are tinged pink with pure desire — his gaze turning woozy as he looks from your gaping hole to his cockhead, tapping it against your souse entrance a few times for good measure.

fuck a condom, he thinks, if given the opportunity — he would have fucked his sister rawtoo.

“whatever you give me, i-it’ll be enough for me, sugu,” you sniff, fisting the floor in anticipation — laying your hot, tear streaked cheek against its cool surface. “t-thank you for treating me so well.”

“i promise,” geto heaves, words a little too rushed and eager. “i’ll make you feel so good, so fucking…h-hah—“ without warning, he thrusts all the way inside of you with his hips driving all the way forward until his pelvis is flush against the curve of your ass. geto is chubbier than you thought he would be, and just the right length — plugging you full. every vein wrapped around his shaft presses up against your most sensitive pleasure spots, and he’s weighty against your gummy unused walls.

suguru’s breath prickles at shell of your ears as he collapses on top of you, all of his weight keeping you pinned to the cold hard floor. “can i move?” he lets out a wavering gasp, fighting the instinct to fuck down into you. your cunt ripples around him deliciously, the heat from your body making him drowsy. “you need to be fucked, little one. need someone to stretch out your tight pussy… i can do that for you. if you let me…”

he hates the part of his brain that wonders if his baby sister was this tight when gojo fucked her.

“i want you to,” you slur gently, purposely squeezing down on the base of suguru’s cock and practically creaming around it. you wriggle back on him until he’s completely bottomed out inside of you — balls deep while you ooze against his pelvis and heavy balls. “need you to fuck me…”

that’s all it takes for your stranger turned lover to give his all to you. he drops his sweaty chest to your back, pulling his chubby cock from the snugness of your heat as his teeth take purchase in your shoulders — leaving a litter of love bites your uniform will barely cover once the night is over. suguru is possessive of his belongings, like you and his little sister — the bites are his claim on you.

in one powerful move, you’re full to the brim with rock hard cock — deep in your guts, churning them up and spreading lust like a wildfire through your weak body. you feel dwarfed underneath him. despite being pinned to the floor, you still manage to rock your hips back against suguru and suck more of him into your cute, quivering cunt. it just about helps him set a steady stream to his meaningful thrusts.

wet slapping sounds echo throughout the back room of the bakery, accompanied by your meek mewls and gasps for air the faster suguru pounds into your warmth. fat droplets of precum smear along your soaked and ripe insides, ready to be bred by suguru. ready to be marked by him. you feel like you belong to him like a treasured pet and you don’t even mind it. your pussy blossoms for him like that of a japanese cherry blossom in the spring time — or iris flowers, shobu, in their iconic shade of purple. like the bruises he’s left on your back.

oh, you’re just perfect for suguru. you fulfil all of his sister-fucking fantasies, even your moans sound like hers when she would get off in her room — thinking no one could hear her. he loves this, he might even love you — the way you feel wrapped around him, reaching for the stars in your eyes. it feels like you’re made for him, with the way you clamp down on his oozing mushroomed tip and squirm about underneath him.

your pussy barely lets go of geto when he draws his hips back, but every time he fucks down into him — your fluttering hole stretches to accommodate his creamy thickness. it creates the perfect pathway for the dark haired man to bully your g-spot in a way that makes you scream for more. “you’re perfect for me…fuck, you’re so perfect,” suguru intimately whispers into your skin from behind, his hands smoothing over yours as you claw at the floor to ground yourself from the overwhelming ecstasy. he thinks he understands why satoru had fucked his sister now — there’s something so satisfying about corrupting someone. taking their innocence with your dick. “should i keep you like this? on my aching cock forever?”

“y-yes please!” you squeal, succumbing to your body’s biological will, cunt spitting droplets of arousal all over suguru. he’s barely able to pull out of you, his dick on lockdown inside of your core. there’s hardly any space between you both any more, the air vibrating with electrifying lust and the scent of sex.

you coo and cry out for your newfound lover, your ass and the backs of your thighs burning from how hard his skin slaps against your own. you hardly care about the pain for its overlapped with ecstasy like sea water on a sandy shore. “you’re such a good…good fucking girl for me. for your big brother,” suguru loses track of his words, his mind lagging behind his mouth and his hips that relentlessly pound you into the ground. over the sound of sex you think that you’ve misheard him, but then his voice rises an octave and in volume as he continues to moan out your praises — succumbing to your gratifying and ichorous cunt latching onto the veins spiralling around his dick. “oh my precious little sister… taking me so fucking well—!”

in that moment, all of the guilt suguru has ever felt for leaving his sister, for ruining her relationship and fleeing to new york, for thinking of her while fucking you… it all comes rushing back. he stops thrusting, freezing in place above you while his cock twitches along your insides.

“f-fuck i—“ he starts to apologise, but the cry you let out stops him.

“nii-san,” you whine petulantly, fat tears gathering in your lash line. “d-don’t stop! please keep fucking me, fuck me harder. make me cum, make me scream, make me—!” your words are cut off by suguru’s fingers wrapping around your delicate neck from behind, giving it a gentle squeeze. he resumes his thrusts, a little harsher and more carelessly coordinated than before, once he realises that maybe you’re just as sick and twisted as him. calling him big brother while he uses you for a dirty fuck in place of his younger adopted sibling…

you like this just as much as he does.

suguru knows you’re perfect, perhaps even more so than his little sister. he uses his grip on your throat to tug your head back while he fucks you silly, slotting his mouth against yours in a salacious and sinful kiss. “onii-san, hm?” he forces his tongue over yours, moaning into your mouth pathetically as he reverts back to his mother-tongue. “you want your onii-san to fuck you, imouto? make you cum again?”

“please, please, please onii-san! g-gotta cum f’you…g’na cum. c-close!” comes your brainless babble while you fall into a cockdrunk state.

“you beg so pretty for your big brother, sweet little thing. i should fill you up, breed this greedy little cunt for all its worth, right?” suguru’s mind grows as foggy as yours, copious amounts of his precum pouring into you and dripping down your swollen slit. it’s a mess, everything is disgustingly messy — this situation, the fact that you’re so eagerly calling him your big brother, the fact that he’s fucking you because you remind him of his sibling. but neither of you give a shit, not when you feel so fucking good you swear you’re seeing the pearly gates.

“g-god! please sugu, please nii-san, i need it. need you!” the slow roll of your hips contrasts with geto’s ever increasing slap of skin on skin, your mix of arousals crudely seeping down his balls and to the floor below. the point at which your bodies join starts to forth as well.

“is that so…?” suguru hums attentively, grinning ear to ear at how you play into this immoral dynamic. it fuels the fire of lust burning through him, setting his lungs alight and ruining his chances at breathing. his thrusts become erratic, his cockhead married to your g-spot, and he finds himself growing more and more excited about the sight of his cum leaking from your ravaged hole. “you must really like it when your big brother fucks you — hm, lillith baby? do you like how deep i can get, deep in your tummy?” he continues to ramble, grabbing your ass cheeks to peel them apart — letting out a deep and wild gripe from his chest at the sight of strings of your clear arousal glueing the fleshy globes together. “love how you throw it back on me. keep coating your nii-san’s cock in your pretty juices. gush for me, make me shine with your cum.”

you nod and do as geto says, simpering out for even more while you work yourself back on his swelling girth as it shines with milky white. you can no longer keep up with what’s happening, your brain actually lags at the way your faux big brother coos your name while your sexes sing a lewd song of pap, pap, pap. lust courses through your veins and burns at your nerve endings, you should feel disgusted with yourself but nothing makes sense. you feel like you’re high, and you don’t want to come back down. at this point, all you can do is lay down and take it, clenching around suguru’s hard cock where it counts — pulling more precum from his heavy breeder’s balls.

“nii-san…more, ‘m right there—“ you sob, reaching back with bambi eyes that plead for another kiss. you allow suguru to fuck you at his own free will, too weak to keep up.

“right here, imouto? against this sweet spot, baby sis?” you get a little tighter every time he calls you his little sister, creaming around his base and crying out his name as if it’s a fucking prayer. “you want me to breed you that bad, baby sis? want my cum deep in your little sister cunt?”

you beg for it through tears and suguru makes you cum again just like he promised. your third orgasm of the night renders you completely useless, a silent scream tearing in your throat while you seizes up and trap suguru deep inside of your fluttering cunt. it’s so fucking cute to him, how much you gush when you orgasm, like a rushing river that never stops flowing. it’s almost as if the flood gates have opened up or heaven has rained down on geto’s fat cock.

that’s all he needs for his own orgasm to be triggered, he collapses on top of you from behind as he empties his balls inside of your womb with a shout of your name. “‘m sorry little one, ‘m sorry… so fucking sorry.” he says hoarsely, cock pulsing while a wave of his cream lines your pussy from the inside — he doesn’t ever let up, fucking you through it all until both of your sexes are raw and abused beyond repair. “i love you, baby sis… imouto. s-shit, i love you so much.” your hole burns by the time suguru comes down, and you swear he feels bigger now that his dick is swollen with his orgasm.

suguru is still cumming in spurts when he pulls out of you with a hiss, painting your puffy folds white, the rest leaking out of your entrance. “im so sorry… I have no idea where that came from…” he starts to apologise tiredly. “that was…”

you remain silent for a moment, mulling over what to say next as suguru rolls off of you, and lays by your side quietly. you flip onto your back, staring up at the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling. you liked this, whatever the hell it was… even if it meant he was fucking you to fuck his unresolved feelings out for his sister.

“amazing… yeah.” is the response that you settle on.

“that’s…that’s not what i meant.”

“and i know that! you don’t have to apologise,” you cut him off abruptly, keeping your voice softly. “i liked it, whatever weird kink this is, it made me feel good.”

geto flushes hot all over, sheepishly running a hand through his sweaty black locks. “my sister… she’s not seriously my blood sister. she’s adopted and—“ he’s so sheepish and right after ruining you beyond belief that it makes you laugh in pure amusement. “a-and i like you! quite a bit. i know this was… strange… but with your permission. i’d like to keep seeing you.”

“and fucking me?” you tease, tucking yourself into the man’s side while nuzzling your face into his neck. he smells like you, he smells like sex…but you’re satisfied.

his arm loosely wraps around your waist, thumbing over any bruises he might have left there. “that too.”

“what about the gifts?”

“those won’t stop either.”

finally, you sit up, looming over geto as you tuck your braids behind your ear and out of your face. cupping suguru’s jaw, you lean over him and place a somewhat upside down kiss to the man’s lips — then brush over their cherry red bruising. “then you have yourself a deal — now please help me clean up, sugu. i don’t want to get fired.”

it’s his turn to laugh next. “i’ll just take care of all your expenses if you do.”

you roll your eyes.

this new dynamic, this new fling…it’s unhealthy, yeah. but as long as suguru has someone like you to look out for and need him. he thinks he’ll be okay.

getting over his sister was the key to healing. just like his purple nailed therapist had said — so focusing on you was healing him. before either of you can move to help clean up, suguru reaches up slowly and cups your neck tenderly. he brings you down to his level, his fingers wrapping around the silver chain swinging loosely from your neck before pressing a kiss to the amethyst pendant there.

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rosemaze-reveries · 4 months ago

Note

May I request weeping yearning and pining from afar but reader notices this and sends a message? 😚😚😚😚😚😚

omg who could this be ( ᷄ᾥ ᷅ ︎🫶) ty for the chance to write weepybeepy again

― spellbound

Disclaimer: This was loosely inspired by a scene in The Last Circus (the film Hullabaloo’s love triangle is based on). You couldn’t pay me to sit through that movie again but I’ve got to make use of those 2 hrs I wasted somehow </3

⚠️ Some Sergi/Margaretha. Reader uses they/them (sparingly).

Joker sits on the bench by the prop wagon, the one you instructed him to meet at, watching the other performers practise their stunts. A letter is clutched in his hands, written in your script, its envelope stained with tears that dried well over an hour ago. He’s beginning to accept that you aren’t going to show up. But Joker would wait a lifetime for you—if he had nothing else to cling to, he would always choose you. That’s how it’s been for years.

You’re the light of his life, a star on stage and off. He’s never missed a single performance of yours. He might even be more familiar with your schedule than you are. As brilliant as you are, you’re prone to such scattered thoughts that Joker is sure you wouldn’t be able to live on your own. He’s taken it upon himself to watch over you from afar. Every time you forget a piece of your costume, or your lunch, or a stage prop, he finds them for you; he sets aside a plate of all your favorites whenever you’re late to dinner (which is, impressively, most of the time). You’ve never known who your guardian angel is, and he adores playing that role for you.

That’s also why he believes you aren’t standing him up on purpose. But even if you are, even if this letter you sent out of the blue was all a setup, he would still play along for you.

“Joker, I’m so sorry!”

His eyes flick up at the sound of your voice. You’re hauling around several bags in either hand, props and cosmetics practically spilling out over the top. He jumps up from the bench to greet you, ready to rush over and take some of the load. But before he gets the chance you hitch up your bags and break into a sprint toward him. A couple of greasepaint tins tumble onto the grass, but you pay it no mind and even discard the rest of your things off to the ground with them. Then you toss your arms around Joker, squeezing him tight. His shoulders tense on impact, so stiff they nearly graze his ears.

No one has ever held him like this before. It’s almost unbelievable how much tenderness can seep through a person’s touch. He’s slow to process the sudden warmth that’s enfolding him. After a moment’s hesitation, he realizes this is a chance he might not see again for a long time. So he snaps free of his stupor, delicate fingers cupping over your shoulder blades for an awkward pat back.

“...I-It’s funny, I…” he mumbles into your neck, “I’m not sure I...” Halfway through his words fade out. It’s not meant to be a protest, but you can’t see it as anything else.

“Sorry, I couldn't help myself!” you quickly pull away. Joker mourns the loss. A prickling sensation lingers on the skin where you’d touched him. “There was a huge mix-up,” you explain. “I accidentally agreed to go shopping for the morning crew, and I told someone to tell you what happened but they couldn’t find you in your tent. I didn’t think you’d still be here!”

With a sheepish smile your attention turns to the trail of makeup scattered on the ground. “Anyway, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” you say as you pick up your things. “You know, Sergi’s treating us to dinner tonight. It’s nothing special, just a couple of our friends getting together for drinks. You probably know most of them already. Mike will be there! And Natalie too, obviously. I could let them know you’re coming and we’ll save you a seat?”

Joker doesn’t dwell on it for a second. You’ve invited him out for dinner — what do the little details matter? You will be there, the one person he adores above all else, and that’s enough for him. Sergi’s presence alone is excruciating enough to spoil it all, but he’d sit through it for you. He doesn’t even care that he never would’ve known about this get-together had you not felt guilty enough to extend an invite. This is a dinner date, no matter how you try to twist it. His heart skips a beat at the thought.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! And don’t worry about Sergi. I mean, this sounds bad, but he probably won’t even notice you if you sit on the end… Honestly, I get nervous around him myself so I know how to…” —appease him. You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. “...Well, you know. But we can keep each other company!”

You’re so full of contradictions, Joker muses. Thoughtful, but careless. Sympathetic, but selfish. You talk to him like a well-meaning friend and yet you would’ve been just as happy without him tonight. But that’s alright, it’s not your fault. You’re that way with everyone, he knows that. He just has to step up for you to take a more intimate notice of him.

“Can’t promise I’ll be much of a guest,” he says, lips twitching into a wry smile, “but I guess I could swing by, if you’re going and all…”

And with that your eyes light up and Joker is relieved to know he said the right thing. As you pull him in for a goodbye hug, he closes his eyes and lets himself fall into you, savoring the few seconds your touch belongs to him. When you move to break away, his arms tighten, not willing to let you go just yet. But then he catches himself and his eyes flash wide as a rabbit’s, afraid he’d wronged you in some way. You only smile, gently tucking a lock of red hair behind his ear.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go drop these off! Dinner’s at seven, so let’s meet at the carousel a quarter till? See you tonight!”

“See you,” he echoes, dazed, and finally unhooks his arms. He watches you wave before disappearing into the busy Hullabaloo crowd. Then he reaches up to trace his hair, mimicking your touch.

This is love. He’s sure of it. He feels as though a fairy had come and bestowed a kiss upon him before vanishing with the wind. One blink and you’re gone, just a trick of the eye, and yet his body feels like it’s on fire. What a cruel spell you left on him—he’s pinned in place with butterflies flitting around his stomach, a heart that’s beating louder than his thoughts, and a dull ache pulsing up his leg.

— ୨୧ —

Not forty minutes pass before Sergi hears about the talk you had with Joker. He is Hullabaloo’s shining star, after all, with eyes and ears everywhere. He finds you on the Moonlit River Bridge throwing crumbs for the birds, apparently having nothing better to do, but you would have picked an afternoon of utter boredom over Sergi’s company any day. He strolls over to you and leans against the rail.

“Excited for tonight?” he asks. You spot Natalie observing from afar. She gives you a shy wave of her fingers, but keeps her distance. That’s all the proof you need to know that Sergi isn’t here for some small talk. Your gut tells you to stay on your guard.

“Uh-huh…” you reply, warily. “Do you need something?”

Sergi chuckles, before he slings an arm over your shoulder and begins reeling you across the bridge. Your legs stumble to match his pace, but you don’t fight him. “Listen,” he says as he walks, “you know I love Natalie, right?”

“Yeah?” You can taste the whiskey in his breath, burning your nostrils.

“She’s the love of my life. True love. Say it with me—”

“True love,” you echo.

“True love, exactly. I would do anything for her. And that clown you’ve been talking to lately, I don’t trust him. I don’t like the way he looks at her. I don’t want him even near her. You get me?”

That’s what this is about! All the tension melts from your face. “Oh, don’t worry! He’ll be sitting with me.”

“I’m worried about my wife,” Sergi insists, laying a hand over his breast. “So you understand I have to speak up when you invite someone that might hurt her. To my dinner party of all things. Look, you’re good company. My boys like you, I like you. But I don’t want a mopey clown to spoil my appetite. Right? We want to have fun. And we can’t have fun with him around. Right?”

He keeps up an easy smile, but his eyes warn you to choose your next words wisely. The pit in your stomach drops all of a sudden. You crinkle your nose to escape the smell of his breath and duck under his arm.

“I can just get a separate table,” you say, smoothing out your tousled sleeves. “I really don’t think he’s hurting anyone. Plus Mike’s fond of him, you know, they go way back—”

“(Y/N), I’m saying if I see him there, I’ll blame you for his murder.”

“......”

Those words roll so effortlessly off his tongue, you almost don’t believe you heard him correctly. Your blood runs cold, heart nearly stopping in your chest. This is my circus, is what he’s so graciously reminding you, I’m your meal ticket, not Bernard, not anyone else. You’ll listen to me. Knowing Sergi, this kind of threat is no surprise, and likely an empty one at that, but the sudden switch-up still gives you a jolt. You don’t know how to answer. All you can do is take a few slow steps out of his reach. Some kind of rebuttal rises in your throat, but you choke it back down for a half-hearted “Mhm,” instead, then break into a brisk half-run.

A miffed scoff follows behind you. “Christ, do I have to worry about you fucking up the mood too?”

Again, you don’t respond. He changes his tune a second later:

“I was kidding, (Y/N), you know that! C’mon, it wasn’t that serious! We’re all family here! Tell ‘em, Nat.”

Only at the mention of Natalie do you glance back. She seemed to have sensed the tension and rushed over. She has a soothing hand placed on his back, while Sergi’s arms are spread wide in the air, as if he’s expecting you to rush back in for a hug and say, “Oh, Sergi, I was out of line! I won’t doubt you again!” The sight of it makes your blood boil. You fear you might turn foolish if you act on your rising temper, so you swallow it down and face forward again. Before you storm out of earshot, you catch the last of their conversation:

“Natalie,” Sergi warns, voice low. You guess it’s because she hesitated to back him up. You can almost envision her scrambling to find her words when she calls from afar, a little frantic:

“He didn’t mean it!” she says. “You’ll still show up tonight, won’t you?”

You don’t turn around for her this time. A part of you regrets it, because Natalie is a dear friend of yours, but you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs. You’re sure you’ll have the chance to speak to her later, at least. She’ll come to apologize on Sergi’s behalf once things quiet down, try to reassure you that he was just a little drunk, that “he’s not really like that.” That’s how it always goes.

Watching you run off, Sergi spits on the ground. “Psycho making me look bad,” he sneers. “You know I was joking, right?”

“Of course I do, Serge,” Natalie coos.

“Right. Everyone loves Sergio the Happy Clown. I make kids laugh. I make you laugh, too. This goddamned circus would’ve burned itself to the ground without us here to save it.”

— ୨୧ —

Joker has spent hours fussing in the mirror.

With one clean stroke, he lines white facepaint above his lip, smoothing right over his cleft. He tries to rub it in with a careful finger. Blend it too much and the scar shines through; too little and he’s just drawn himself a milk moustache. There’s apparently no in-between. This is much easier to cover up when he’s in a full face of show makeup. At a loss, he decides to scrap the white and try a bit of rouge instead.

All the products at his disposal are made for the stage, bright and vibrant and grossly obvious in any natural setting. But as he wipes off the rouge he used on his lips, he discovers it leaves a faint stain behind. Not too prominent, yet it still conceals what he needs it to. Perfect. He uses that technique to plump and even the shape of his mouth. Satisfied with the results, he tucks his hair behind his ear before setting down his mirror.

“Joker, are you there?”

Oh, he loves that voice. Sweeter than anything he’s heard in this world. It’s yours, of course. But you shouldn’t have come for at least another hour or so — and especially not to his tent. …Unless he lost track of time? He glances at the striped canvas wall, the other side of which you’re presumably standing.

That was your voice, right?

He nearly knocks over his vat of lip paint as he lunges for the pocket watch atop his bed. It’s not even six o’clock. So he reassures himself that it’s nothing important. You’re probably just here to update him about the carousel’s faulty calliope or something. That’s a cute habit of yours, he’s discovered: you’re always compelled to tell whoever you can about the smallest of breakthroughs, insisting you’d forget about them otherwise.

He stands up from his stool to greet you, only for a rush of doubt to hit him. Quickly he grabs his mirror and scrubs all the makeup off his lips before slinking over to the slit of his tent.

“E-Early, aren’t we?” he greets, a little meeker than he means to. “Well, not that I mind…”

A weak smile ghosts his face as he talks, expecting to see you mirror it. But the one waiting for him outside holds their brows knitted together, eyes wild and distracted, as if they’d just witnessed a murder. That’s a side of you he never thought he’d see in his lifetime. His smile falls.

“I didn’t mistake the time, did I…?”

“No,” you say. “Um, listen. I don’t think you should come tonight.”

Joker assumes you’ll elaborate, and when you don’t, it’s him that mirrors your knitted brows. He comes closer.

“What happened?”

“Sergi’s upset about it. And he’s serious, I mean it.”

His breath catches in his throat just at the sound of that name. It’s easy to fear the worst. “He didn’t lay a hand on you, ri—”

“No, nothing like that.” You’re quick to cut him off with a firm shake of your head. “I’m sorry I keep messing things up. And about my letter, it wasn’t that important to meet somewhere special or anything. I just wanted to say thank-you for always doing so much for me. I notice, you know.”

As heartfelt as you mean to sound, your tone is devoid of its usual passion. Clearly meeting “somewhere special” had been an important part to you. Joker can imagine what’s coming next: you’ll say that you’re still planning on going to that dinner, that you don’t want to worry anyone, that you’ll see him tomorrow. He doesn’t want to stop you from doing as you like. But at the same time, you’ve cast him aside once already, and he fears his chances at pursuing you whittle away the more this happens.

Sure enough — you start to turn around. “Anyway, I’m still going to go,” you tell him. “I think it’d put Sergi in a better mood if things go like they’re supposed to.”

Joker doesn’t hesitate. He latches onto your arm, his hand quivering slightly.

“You don’t want to,” he points out. “(Y/N), forgive me for being blunt, but you’re shaken up an awful lot… Why put yourself through all that?”

You don’t deny it. “It’s not like I’ll be alone with him.”

“Not tonight,” he presses. “Not tonight. Stay here for a while. I-I’d be glad for the company, and… I’ll figure something out with Sergi. You can take it easy…”

You search Joker’s face. He’s not looking at you, his expression uncertain, gaze lost to the dust on the ground. The pull to stay grows stronger the longer you wait. It’s a tempting offer, and finally the weariness in your bones makes the decision for you.

#mama im in love with a clown #identity v #idv x reader #idv joker x reader #weeping clown x reader #weeping clown #idv joker

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justreadingfics · 1 year ago

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It's a Challenge

An "It's a Deal" One-Shot

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: 18+, smut (or almost), unrealistic sex performance, part of a series.

It's a Deal Masterlist

Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for the amazing @chase-your-dreams-away No beta and no proof-reading, but written with love.

“Come again, sweetheart?”

There he is, in an unsuspecting Saturday morning, wearing only a pair of black boxers as clothing, heading to the kitchen to fetch you some water and a little bite, when he hears the words that makes him stop in his tracks. He has just given you four orgasms almost in a row and figured his pretty girl needed some refreshments to start the day after he had used a warm washcloth to gently clean the last of the pleasure from her sated body.

Or as sated as he thought it would be, it seems.

“You heard me just fine, old man.” You stretch your limbs in an adorably exaggerated way before turning over on the mattress to lie on your stomach. Bucky’s gaze travels over your skin and a low sound comes out of his lungs at the view of your round and perfect ass. You you’re your head on a hand to look at him where he stands by the door of your room.

Oh, he did hear you. He heard you just fine. But he needed to see that pretty little mouth of yours moving again to say one more time what made him stop on his tracks. He says nothing. Just bites his lower lip and leans himself with his metal hand on the doorframe. Stares at you. And waits.

He bites his lip harder at the sound of your snort and the playful roll of your eyes. Damn, he loves you.

“What I said,” Bucky catches how hard you’re trying to hold back a mischievous smile, “Is that life as a couple must be wearing on you. We never got to come even close to our record again.”

Ah, there it is. Bucky’s eyebrows furrow and he squints at you, tilting his head at the words and the clear challenge in them. You have the good sense to look a little nervous when the tiniest of smiles curls his lips and he leans away from the door.

He knows what you’re talking about. That night when the two of you still had that deal of yours. The best deal he made in his life. To be completely at your service, to be there for you whenever you wanted him. In your bed.

Or his…

Or at the back of an empty alley…

Anywhere else that would suit you, really.

He bites back the urge to laugh at the only rule you had at the time. No falling in love.

A lifetime ago.

And he knows which night you’re talking about specifically.

The night when you were curious about how many times you could reach orgasm using him and his inexhaustible source of stamina as a … human dildo… that’s what you called him if he remembers correctly. He was more than pleased to accept the challenge then… and he certainly wouldn’t balk from the current one laced at your words.

25 is the number he knows it’s on your mind.

He chuckles darkly when your eyes ever so slightly widen at the slow and poised pace he uses to walk back to you. His gaze never leaving yours.

You bite your lip when he comes close and drops to his knees on the floor beside you. Putting on his most serious face, he cups your chin, fixing your gaze on him.

“Take a look at what you do to me, sweeatheart.”

You whimper when you glance down to where you know he wants you to. He’s already hard. Has been ever since the formidable little words left that sinful mouth of yours.

“I hope you have no weekend plans other than have me inside you.” He leans in to brush his lips against your ear as you swallow, “Licking you.” His tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear. You shudder. “Kissing you.” His lips trail to your neck, your skin hot from the contact. “Touching you in the most unholy ways you can think of…” He brings a hand to grab a handful of your ass, loving how your breath hitches. “Not until we double that little number that’s on your mind now.”

“Bucky!” You let out a startle cry, leaning back to widen your eyes at him.

“Shhhh,” He pulls your neck to his lips again and and slide his other hand in to feel your pussy from behind. A groan rumbles his chest when he feels the little vixen is once again wet.

No other words come out from your parted lips and he senses your eyes fluttering shut at his touch. You reach down to dip your hand under the fabric of his boxers and he lets you, licking your neck when you wrap your soft fingers around him.

“But first,” he says, leaning back from your neck and marking his firm words with a slap on your ass that makes you shudder and whimper in sheer pleasure. “Water and breakfast. My girls is not a super soldier as her magnificent boyfriend after all.” He covers your hand on his cock with his metal one and guides it on a deliberately slow motion down its entire length to make his point clear.

It takes all of his strenght to part from you right now, but his grin is broad when he leans back and stands, ceasing all kinds of touch, leaving you as hot and bothered as he wanted before he swiftly turns to fetch what he just promised you.

One more time, he halts at the door when he hears you speaking from behind him.

“Just so you know, we’re not counting those first four.”

His grin turns even wider.

Fuck… he loves you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky drabble #bucky smut #it's a deal

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wttcsms · 6 months ago

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and so a touch that was my birth right became foreign, satoru gojo

with hands blessed with the technique that enables you to feel the most likely future for the person you're touching, it's easy to see why you don't want to touch satoru when he comes back. even if he doesn't know his own ending, all he knows is that he would like to feel your touch even if it's for the last time. so you let him. (wc 1k) content contains satoru gojo x reader, slight angst, allusions to jjk 261 leak, some fluff, possible hurt/(no) comfort (depending on how you look at it), humanizing gojo

“You’re worried about me,” he rolls over in bed, bluer-than-blue eyes staring into yours. “It’s written all over your face.”

“No, I’m not. This is my ‘you’re hogging all the blankets’ face.” You retort, yanking the bedsheets closer to you. You try to make yourself more comfortable, but it’s no use — you only sleep well when you’re snuggled up by Satoru’s side, but the idea of touching him, the effects of what will happen when you do, serves as a good enough deterrent.

“No. It’s your ‘I suck at keeping a secret’ face.”

“Well, that face and my ‘worried about you’ face are two entirely different expressions. So, even if you’re right, you’re still wrong.”

Usually, he would laugh at your logic. Nowadays, there’s not much laughter to spare. Just intense gazes that cut you to the bone, deep enough to leave a mark on your soul, yet soft enough for you to momentarily forget the pain that comes with it. You like to make comments about his eyes; not his Six Eyes, but his. The ones that are uniquely and wholly his own. You want to drown into his eyes, the prettiest, rarest shade of blue that only he could pull off. You know he knows that you think this, which is precisely why you have no issue with telling him he needs to get brown contacts for bedtime because his irises practically glow in the dark.

Our bodies are built by memories. It’s why your fingers twitch, confused as to why Satoru is so close to you, close enough to touch, and yet, there’s still a distance between you two. Your hands know him well — know him the best of all. Your fingers, the ones that have ran through his hair so many times before, may share the same color as many other members of his clan but the stubbornness of his hair is all his own. You would tease him; tell him that his hair is just like him: annoying, with its own mind, its own will. His hair is coarser than it looks, and sometimes, you can still feel remnants of hardened hair gel when he gets too tired to wash it all off properly. (On those nights, you’ll wash it off for him.)

The sharpness of his cheekbones have been traced by the tips of your fingers. Gaunt when he’s so laser focused on work, but full when he’s shoveling food into his mouth. You like the sight of Satoru gorging himself on daifuku; so rarely does he give into greed, and there’s a boyish glow to him when he’s unable to speak because of the sheer amount of mochi he has in his mouth, looking annoyingly cute with his chipmunk cheeks.

“You don’t want to touch me because you’re scared.” Of course, Satoru doesn’t shy away from confrontation. You suppose it’s for the best. The fact that he let you go this long without him calling you out on your behavior isn’t surprising, though. He always puts the feelings of others before his own.

“Is it that obvious?”

Satoru doesn’t need the Six Eyes to see through you. He just needs to use his own.

“Did you really think it wasn’t?” is what he says.

“I just— Knowing the future is worse than the not-knowing.” Your voice cracks during the explanation, but he doesn’t comment yet. He waits patiently for you to continue, even though you already had this breakdown in front of him before, a lifetime ago. When the two of you were just students and he sneakily pulled off your gloves and placed his hand around yours. Back then, his touch had been brimming with life. It had shocked your system, your soul. Every touch exchanged from him since then had felt the same, more or less.

You’re worried that you won’t get that familiar feeling this time around.

“Because not-knowing leaves space for hoping.” He finishes for you. You blink, and suddenly he’s closer, and you want to cry. You want him to be this close to you forever, and you know that that is one future path that not even the strings of fate will entertain.

“I’m worried about you.” You whisper out this confession, and Satoru’s lips part. He looks like he’s about to joke around, to say “aha! I knew it!”, but he doesn’t. There’s a defeated sort of air to him when he tells you,

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m Satoru Gojo, after all.” The smile he gives you is a good imitation of his genuine one, but you can see through him just as easily as he does you.

“I can’t worry about Satoru Gojo?”

“You would waste time and precious tears over the strongest?”

It’s true that his strength is a big part of him, but it’s not his entire being. People chase after the reason for their existence all the time, while Satoru’s been told his entire life that being blessed with his strength is the sole cause for his existence. Satoru knows what his designated purpose is; no one’s ever given him any room for doubt or an opportunity to pursue another path. He could argue that the not-knowing your purpose in life is a whole lot more fun than actually knowing.

“Who’s going to keep that daifuku shop in Osaka open if you’re gone?” And it’s such an unserious statement to make, a statement that has reduced you to a wet puddle of tears, but it’s genuine.

You don’t care about the strongest dying.

You care about him dying.

With the same disregard for your personal space he had back in high school, Satoru takes your hand and laces his fingers through yours. You’re crying, and you can register the warmth of his physical body, but there’s a foreignness in his touch that you don’t recognize, a touch that your hand engraved with memories of him can’t quite seem to remember. It scares you, because you’ve never felt this before. You’re gripping his hand even tighter, as if trying to force his familiar presence to steady you, but there’s no use.

When you touch Satoru, you cannot feel his future. You can’t feel him.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk 261 #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk one shot #imagine #drabble

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yoonia · 1 year ago

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come undone | myg (m)

⟶ Summary | As a reward for Yoongi taking you to the trip of a lifetime and away from your busy lives, you decided to surprise him with a special treatment to help him relax and for the two of you to bond as a couple. What you never expected was for him to show you a different kind of pleasure through it in return.

⟶ Title | Come Undone ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Established relationship!au, Mature, Smut ⟶ Word count | 14,625 words

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; brief mention of alcohol consumption, swearing, contains explicit scenes, including mud bath (which involves…mud), mud play, Yoongi tries to prank OC by dunking her into the mud, nudity, dirty talk, soft dom/switch!Yoongi, sub/switch/brat!reader, Yoongi may have an odd fascination on her feet, fingering, clit play, breast play, mentions of bondage, restraint (mild), sensory play, usage of pet names, sir kink, praise kink, begging, edging, ass slapping/light spanking, public sex, shower sex, hand job, unprotected sex (kinda…OC/reader is on birth control), rough sex, orgasm control/denial, implied creampie, aftercare

⟶ Read on AO3

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story was written as a commission for @pinkbtsarmy; I’m sorry that it took me so long to finish this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. There might be some changes added from the original prompt/details that we previously talked about as this fic completely ran out of course the moment I started writing it, but I hope you can still enjoy this story. Forgive me for the rough editing. Have fun reading! Additional Note: This story is purely fictional, with the usage of bangtan members’/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. Some aspects of this story may not be scientifically or biologically correct, so please don’t take things seriously (and don’t do this at home without supervision!)

This is what dreams are made of.

You keep reminding yourself about this as you try to relax.

Because you have dreamt about this. It might have been a long period of time ago that you have almost forgotten what it was like to be daydreaming and imagining yourself to be in a place like this instead of actually living in it. And you have to keep convincing yourself that you deserve every ounce of the pleasure that is being offered to you, especially after the absolute hell that you had to go through just to be able to enjoy this moment.

Looking out the window, you get a clear view of the thick, white clouds and the clear sky that is partly obscured by their presence.

The sight should have been able to help you forget about everything that you are leaving behind, as this moment is something that you have been waiting for to happen for a long while.

The long, busy months that you had to endure before this long weekend had been a tormenting period of time that you just want to put everything at the back of your mind. The overflowing and frenzy-filled work, along with the family drama and crumbling relationships—both professional and personal ones—had tested every bit of patience that you now barely have left.

And those dreadful months felt even longer when you could barely find any chance to spend enough quality time with your fiancé. Obviously, you have known this to be one of the risks that you had to take when you decided to have a relationship with Min Yoongi, one of the busiest and most sought out man in the country, but never before had it been this challenging.

Matching up your schedule with Yoongi had become almost impossible for you to do, even with the help of his personal assistant and yours. While you had your own busy life to deal with, he too was swamped with his own busy schedule and had been busy flying off to various places across the globe with only a little time spared for him to spend with you.

If only the trip you are having this weekend had not been planned since a long time ago, long before your schedules collided and you were both thrown deeply into your bustling lives, maybe then you wouldn’t have been here today—sitting on what is probably the cosiest seat you have ever sat on your whole life, and flying on a private plane taking you halfway across the world, with your fiancé pampering you the best way he knows how.

A private plane.

You feel giddy as reality sinks in and you are reminded of how inconceivable this whole thing is. To be able to experience such luxury while the world around you seems to be spiralling out of control sure makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. And everything was made possible thanks to your wonderful lover, the man who is always willing to give you everything to make your wishes come true.

Yoongi always goes far and beyond to spoil you. Whether it is by giving you something as lavish as flying you off with this private plane to a luxurious spa resort on a tropical island somewhere across the ocean to give you both a break from the hectic city life, or pampering you by doing something as simple as what he is doing to you now. He has your legs resting on his lap while he is giving them his full attention. His deft fingertips are pressing against your pressure points, starting from the soles of your feet and up to your calves, easing the knots in your muscles that you gained through the frantic hours leading to this flight.

And he always takes pleasure in doing things like this, gaining his own happiness by making you happy. You obviously don’t mind it at all, since you know that he always has his ways to show you how to make it up to him once you are in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

Speaking of which—

You enjoy the view as you lean back in your seat. Not at the view of the sky that you can clearly see outside the window, but at the handsome and talented man that you have the privilege to call as your fiancé. You watch Yoongi as he continues with his task, concentrating deeply while he is taking care of you and while being blissfuly unaware of the attention that you are giving him.

Whenever you are together with him, everything feels right again. The calm and serene moment that you share together has always become your source of healing, a feeling that seems entirely evident right this moment, after being deprived of his love and affection and his whole presence as a whole for months.

But there is something else that keeps nagging you from the back of your mind. A gut feeling that keeps reminding you to be cautious the moment you are alone with Yoongi, causing your body to be vibrating with anticipation since the start of the flight. Not even the mental exhaustion that you have been feeling is enough to suppress it.

It would be hard to ignore it, knowing that Yoongi is a man who is capable of turning every single moment you share together into a risqué affair. Even a simple kiss would eventually lead to something else once Yoongi puts his mind into it.

From the moment the plane took off, you had half expected that he would start something just to take your mind off of all the troubles that had been haunting you. And it would have been easy for him to start something within the long flight and with this much private space available for him to make use of. Yet he blindsided you by remaining calm throughout the flight and choosing not to initiate anything.

Except for the harmless offer he made to tend your strained feet and give you a comforting massage so you can enjoy yourself.

Sighing deeply, you briefly close your eyes to allow yourself to bask in the serene feeling and try not to think of anything else. You raise your glass and take a slow sip of your drink to find some peace of mind, only to grimace as the champagne fizzles in your mouth.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Yoongi says, making you look at him questioningly, before you realise that he must have caught you wincing and may have thought that he had been the one who caused it. The work of his hands comes to a sudden halt, though his fingers remain hovering on your skin, refusing to completely lose contact with your body.

Yoongi looks genuinely concerned that you can only smile and shake your head at him.

“No, it’s not that, really,” you answer him with a content sigh. As you try to move and twist your foot, you realise that his hands have done magic to your body while your mind has been preoccupied with unnecessary things. Your muscles have grown more lax, with all the tension that you felt fading under his touch. “You have magic hands, I swear. I feel better thanks to you, and you really didn’t have to, it wasn’t hurting me that bad.”

Another note to remember, you wonder to yourself as you twist your ankle on Yoongi’s lap. Never wear a pair of high heels when you are in a hurry to catch a flight.

Especially not when you had to deal with a bunch of catastrophe getting in the way as you were heading towards your departure. From the small troubles rising before the flight—involving the flying permit and your travel visa—to the emergency situation at Yoongi’s workplace that came at the last minute. Then you had to deal with the long traffic jam on your way to the airport, and nearly forgetting to retrieve your luggage from Yoongi’s car trunk right before departing.

With all of that drama already draining you, running across the airport in your high heels and almost spraining your ankles had only added the mental strain that had been weighing down on you. Much to your luck—or lack there of—as the unpleasant memories are coming back to you again after spending hours of trying to forget about them, you can feel the strain growing inside you again, negating all of Yoongi’s effort to rid of them for good.

With another shake of your head, you take another drink of your champagne, hoping that the taste and the frizz would be enough to wash it all away.

Oblivious to your mulling, Yoongi merely smiles and proceeds to rub his thumbs across your ankle. Right at the source of your pain.

“You’re right. I may not have to, but I wanted to. You know that I would never deny a chance to touch and take care of your pretty feet,” he says, causing your heart to make a funny leap with that smile of his, while a soft giggle threatens to escape with his admission about his odd fascination on your feet.

He often jokes about it whenever the two of you are alone, and you cannot imagine what people would possibly think if they should ever hear him say something like this. But with how many times he brings it up as an inside joke, sometimes you just cannot help but wonder if Yoongi truly means it. That the reason why he would always take his time caring for your tired feet any chance he gets actually has something to do with his secret obsession with this part of your body.

“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you? I thought I saw you wince earlier,” Yoongi asks you again while he calmly continues pressing his thumbs up your calves, while you just have to bite back a smile.

You were right, after all, about him catching you wincing earlier. Though you shouldn’t be surprised about it. Because Yoongi has always been quite observant of your moods, even since the beginning of your relationship. It would only take one look at you or a light touch on your skin for Yoongi to easily tell what is going through your mind and what you are feeling.

And he would often make use of this ability, not only on your day to day lives, but also in the bedroom, when he takes control and claims his rewards after all the things that he has done to spoil and tenderly take care of you during the day.

Drawn back to your dark thoughts, you whole body grows warm. Your skin begins to tingle right where he is touching you. As your anticipation returns, the sensation you feel from his touch grows rapidly, spreading through your body and making you feel like you need to cool off so badly.

“It’s nothing like that, really,” you answer Yoongi while resisting the urge to down your drink. “I’m still feeling lightheaded after all that running around and dealing with the drama we got before leaving, that’s all.”

With a small smile, Yoongi glances at your nearly finished drink and gently lowers your legs. “Hmm, if the champagne isn’t working, then should we order something else to make you feel better? I already asked them in advance for some of your favourite meal and desserts and I also got them to prepare a bottle of your favourite wine,” he teases you with a proud wink.

Your heart leaps a beat. “You—you did that for me?” you asks him, astounded at how in tune he is with your moods and needs before you can even express them.

Yoongi responds by taking your hand in his and whispers, “Anything to please my kitten.” His endearment draws a warm flush through your cheeks, and it elevates further when he continues to speak. “After all,” he murmurs softly as he brushes his lips against the back of your hand, “you’re probably going to need all the extra energy that you can get once we’ve arrived at the resort.”

If anyone else would have heard him just now, they probably wouldn’t be able to catch the hidden implications in his words and would simply think of it as his way to sincerely express his concern over your wellbeing. But you quickly recognise the undertone that is hidden in his words, as you have been anticipating this side of his to finally come out.

The unmistakable twinkle you see in his eyes speaks of his intention even louder. It brings you back to the nights filled with his wicked little games, and those sinful moments where he would take you to a blissful place filled with pleasure.

A surging heat rises in your core as your mind travels back to those nights. Then it emerges through a soft gasp as Yoongi presses a kiss on your palm. “Will it be the right time to once again try and convince you to put aside our clothes while we are within the confinement of our private cabin?”

While your face heats up to his indecent offer, you can barely resist the urge to smile and let out a baffled laugh. “I was wondering when you were going to bring it up again,” you say to him. Because this isn’t the first time that he is suggesting this. Ever since it was confirmed that he was renting a private cabin in the resort where you will be staying at, Yoongi had immediately suggested to do away with the clothes while staying in the cabin.

“The cabin is located at a secluded section on the island, so nobody would see us anyway. Imagine all the fun that we can have without having to tear out our clothes beforehand,” was what he has often said each time he brought up the idea. And he always managed to make your cheeks burn when you tried to picture spending the time lounging in the private cabin while in the nude.

Now, however, as you are merely hours away from arriving at your destination, you start feeling more intrigued at the idea, leaving your body growing aroused instead of feeling apprehensive about it. Even when you cannot possibly imagine what may happen the moment you are alone with him and with every piece of clothing set aside.

With Yoongi, anything is possible.

And you always love his sweet yet saucy surprises. This time, however, you have nothing to worry about when you think of what he might have planned, because you have your own wild card to use on him. A little surprise that you have prepared to make this whole trip more pleasurable for both of you.

“You know what—?” You can barely contain yourself just as you are thinking about your own secret plan, yet you manage to feign a semblance of innocence when you share your thoughts with him.

“Since I’ll be making us both discard our clothes for the treatments at the spa once we get there,” you begin, referring and hinting at the spa treatment that you have booked at the resort for this weekend trip after he had the rest of the trip arranged, “I guess I don’t see why we can’t do the same while we’re at the cabin. Let’s try it and see what happens.”

Oblivious to your indecent intention, Yoongi seems pleased to hear this.

With a soft chuckle, Yoongi lifts your hand to his lips again and kisses your skin. “Wonderful,” he gently says. There is a familiar slow drag in his deep voice which tells you that he is already working out a plan to make this weekend unforgettable for the two of you, not knowing that you are doing just about the same thing at the same time. “I’m going to make sure that you won’t regret it.”

“Having any regrets yet?”

In your eyes, Yoongi has an afterglow coming out of him. One that is undeniably deserving of him to have after the blissful release that you just shared.

The gentle voice that comes from him when he is asking you this, along with the warm gaze he is giving you and the gentle touch of his fingers on your wrists, are all in complete contrast to how he acted merely moments ago.

Looking closely at your wrists, right at the spot that he is now rubbing against, you can see some indistinct marks that are visible yet growing fainter now that your blood are flowing smoothly underneath your skin as they are being soothed by his touch. Each pulse of your blood feels warm, while in place of the straining exhaustion that you felt during the flight, a soft humming of pleasure is surging through your body.

“Hmm—” you hum softly at the comforting touch that he is giving you and the waning pulses of pleasure that still remain within you, causing Yoongi to let out a light chuckle.

“Talk to me, kitten,” he murmurs as he brings one wrist to his lips and presses a kiss on it. “I need to know if I hurt you or if I’ve been too rough. I couldn’t help myself. After spending an entire day not touching you, the moment I got to touch your skin, I kept wanting more”—he presses another kiss and groans—”and more.”

His words fade into another deep groan, as if the moment he closes his eyes, he is seeing himself making love to you all over again, doing all the sinful things which had led you to be in this position.

A mixture of pain and pleasure and a deep feeling of content rushes through you as you lean against his chest, bringing you back to the mind-blowing pleasure that he had just given you.

Looking back to it now, you realise that you cannot truly blame Yoongi for letting go of any reservations once he was given the chance to.

It was well in the afternoon when the private jet landed on the island. You were immediately welcomed by the warm sun and the fresh, comforting breeze that felt nothing like the stale and polluted air you had back in your home city. Yet you couldn’t really embrace it all when your mind was occupied with something else at that moment.

After Yoongi shared the idea of stripping down once he got you alone, you had expected that he would be taking you straight to the cabin to make it happen. That thought had led you to spend the entire car ride from the airport anticipating it, only for Yoongi to once again blindside you, deviating from the plan by instructing the driver to head towards the local marketplace on the other side of the island instead.

You questioned his decision at first, before realising too late that it was all a part of his wicked game. That he wanted to make you forget for a moment about his illicit intention while making you wait until he would start touching you again.

And his plan easily worked.

The moment you arrived at the marketplace, you became completely entranced by your surroundings and any thought of Yoongi’s indecent plan flew out of your thoughts. With all the colourful trinkets, handmade accessories and art-pieces, and traditional-made fabrics in vibrant colours capturing your eyes, it was easy to get lost in the moment. Even Yoongi was enjoying himself as he gladly splurged through the market just to please you, spoiling you with gifts and souvenirs.

His surprise continued with a short walk down the beach, where you enjoyed having your feet sinking into the wet sand and the waves hitting your ankles while you were playing chase with your fiancé. Then he led you to the fancy restaurant by the beach side where you had your early dinner. Accompanied by the view of the sunset and the gorgeous view of the ocean around you, and the man who was there to give you his full attention, you finally managed to find the sense of calm that you had been searching for.

Once he realised that you have completely forgotten about his perverse scheme, that was when Yoongi finally put everything into play. It wasn’t until the moment you walked past the threshold of your private cabin when you first realised just how far ahead Yoongi had planned the entire thing, once you failed to find your luggage right where they were supposed to be.

“Remember what we talked about? Strip down and wait for me in the bedroom,” Yoongi gently instructed you when he noticed your reaction. “You’ll have them back when I say you can. For now, I want this thing off of you—” he said as he tugged at your summer dress, “and to see you on your knees on the bedroom floor.”

Just like that, things heated up and escalated into a lot more. Right from the moment he found you kneeling on the bedroom floor, waiting for him without an inch of your skin covered before taking him deep in your throat.

And things didn’t end there. As he took you to the living room where he continued pleasuring you in the most intimate of ways while playing his indecent games, taking you in all position on top of the myriad of furnitures that he could make use of. And then, right when you thought he was about to take a break late midnight, he once again took control of you, bending you over the kitchen counter after he found you making drinks while in the nude, accusing you of purposely teasing him with a sway of your hips while he took you from behind.

The night continued on to near dawn, as if time moved so slowly until the moment he took you back into the bedroom, where he tied your hands and ankles to the bedposts, keeping you restrained while he gave you an otherworldly pleasure that is still humming through your entire body which seems to be taking its sweet time to come down.

“No, I have no regrets,” you answer him with a voice that sounds unintentionally airy and hoarse. You can feel a moan threatening to slip out of you as you stretch out on the messy bed, giving both your body and mind a bit of reprieve as you lean against his bare chest.

A content sigh slips out of your lips. This is how it is supposed to be, you wonder to yourself as you close your eyes and revel in his warmth, once you no longer feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.

This is why being with him and submitting your pleasure to him feels so intoxicating. Because giving up control of your pleasure into his hands has always been the way to help you cope with all the hard times that you have to endure in real life.

You shift in the bed to adjust yourself against him, and the warm flutters of your continuous orgasms are not the only thing that you can feel as you gently rock your hips. When the remnants of his release and yours begin to drip out of your worn-out core, a small amount of them left behind even after he did his work to clean you up after.

Watching this, you can only count your blessings. Not only for all the blissful pleasure that you have been given through this trip, but also for remembering to take your depo shot on time before the trip. Because now you get to enjoy your trip and any intimate moments shared with him to your heart’s content without having to worry about anything.

“Yeah, absolutely no regrets,” you hum softly while resting your head on his shoulder, drawing a chuckle out of him even without him knowing where your mind is wandering off to.

“How are you feeling now, kitten? Are you feeling any better now?”

Laughing softly, you hum against his chest before pulling away. “Much better, thanks to you,” you whisper to him, earning a soft peck on your lips which brings the gentle flutters in your chest back up. “It would be enough to help me sleep, that’s for sure. I’m just hoping that I won’t fall asleep right in the middle of the spa treatment with only a little time left to sleep.”

“Ah yes, the spa treatment,” he says with a smile, though the sarcastic tone in his voice is not too hard to notice. “Are you ever going to tell me more about it, or are you planning to keep your little secret to yourself until the last minute?”

Your eyes grow wide at his question. You cannot help but laugh and feeling embarrassed for being caught. “So you noticed, hmm?” you ask him, only for him to scoff at you. “I was planning to surprise you once we’re at the spa, but since you’ve been such an amazing lover through this trip so far—”

You sit up and turn to face him as you finally spill your little secret. “Do you remember back when we watched that amusing wrestling match during one of our trips?” Yoongi merely raise his eyebrows in a silent question instead of answering you, so you continue, “you know, the one involving mud? The one that we later said it was hot while being messy at the same time and wondered how it must have felt like being covered in all that mud?”

A deep, knowing look manifests through his gaze when he finally starts to comprehend where this is going. Biting back a smile, you continue by questioning him, “Guess what this spa resort is most famous for?”

Yoongi sighs. “Let me guess, it’s not for their private cabins and the clear white sand on their open beach.”

“Nope,” you tease him, shaking your head as he refers to the resort’s main selling point which made him choose this island to spend your weekend getaway, while you let him know the reason why you insisted to book a spa treatment while you are here once you found out more about this resort. “They’re famous for using scientifically processed volcanic mud for their healing therapy and spa treatments.”

Yoongi blinks. “Why do I have a feeling that we’re not just talking about using the mud for facial masks?”

“Well, I mean,” you shrug, “they do have that kind of treatment too, but we could’ve gotten them at the spa that I regularly go to back home.” You briefly come to a pause for dramatic purpose, making him wait before you reveal to him, “but that’s not what I’ve booked for us on this trip.”

“Us?” he asks you with a grin. “Then what are we going to do with that mud, kitten?”

You shift closer, unable to contain your excitement. “We’re going to bathe in it. We’ll soak our tired and battered bodies into the mud to get rid of all the toxins and to loosen our muscles up before we have to go back to work once the weekend is over.”

Yoongi let out an incredulous laugh. “So—we’re going to have a mud bath?”

You nod.

“Together?”

You shrug. “I believe I did book us both a couples’ treatment package for the mud bath, so we’re in this together.”

Hearing this, Yoongi looks a bit dubious at best. Yet despite his reluctance, you know that he isn’t going to say no to this. “It sounds…interesting,” he finally says after pondering about it for a while.

“It is interesting. I know it will be. It’ll be a new experience for both of us, and I know that it’s going to be fun. They said it’ll help us bond as a couple when we do it together,” you continue selling the idea out, loving how Yoongi seems to slowly grow curious about it more than he is hesitant about it.

“Bond as a couple, hmm? Would it be more helpful compared to what we just did earlier?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows, causing your cheeks to heat up.

“Close enough, maybe,” you merely say to him, because both of you know that what you do in the bedroom together is already more than enough to strengthen the bond that you have created between the two of you. “But it’ll give us something to remember. And you promised to try new things with me whenever we have the chance to while we’re traveling together. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“Alright, since we’re already here, and since you’ve been listening to me nicely since we got here,” he says while feigning a defeated sigh. “I suppose it’s my turn to take your word for it.”

“That’s great. Oh, I can’t wait. This is going to be a lot of fun,” you express your relief as you kiss his lips, feeling hopeful about the upcoming new experience, while remaining oblivious to what Yoongi is secretly planning for you as a payback for your little surprise as he embraces you to sleep.

“Welcome to Pure Bliss Spa and Resort.”

You have been feeling both excited and anxious the entire morning that you were almost shaking when you walked into the main establishment of the spa resort. The building itself is located not too far from where your rented cabin is. Just a bit deeper into the island and right on top of the hillside overlooking the spread of wide ocean.

There was still a bit of a drive to get here, which allowed you to enjoy the sights around you even more—such as the private beach attached to the spa establishment which you haven’t had time to visit yet.

From outside, the building looks quite glamorous as a private retreat. With a facade built out of natural stone blocks and strong column structures holding up its massive canopy, the establishment appears to you as if it is blending nicely into the hills surrounding it.

A different kind of vibe welcomed you as you entered the building, when you were met with one of the cosiest space that you have ever been to. Through the warm-coloured wood materials on the floors and furnitures, and the ivory and beige colours covering the floor, loveseats, and the walls around you, this place gives you a homy feeling that fills your chest with a sense of comfort even before you get to experience the healing treatments that they are offering you.

It makes you feel as if you are walking into a warm embrace. Giving you some reassurance that it was the right idea to come to this place for a quick healing in this weekend getaway.

You take a quick glance at Yoongi before responding to the receptionist welcoming you at the front desk. You have half expected to see him somewhat resigned to what you were dragging him here for, yet the clear and warm gaze he is giving you in return is telling you differently. Perhaps your excitement over the upcoming spa treatment is already growing on him, and it is making you feel even more thrilled about this retreat more than ever.

“Hello,” you greet the receptionist with a smile, “we’ve already booked us the couples’ special package treatment for today. I believe it was made under my name.”

“Of course, may I have your reservation details?” With a nod, you give her everything that she needs to confirm the reservations that you made months ago. It takes less than five minutes for her to find all the details needed in her computer. “It is stated here that you have booked our couples package with the volcanic mud bath therapy and the couples full body rock massage. Is that correct?”

Again, you nod while trying your best to contain your eagerness. Relief washes over you as the receptionist clears everything out for you and says, “Your appointment has been confirmed, and the preparation for your private sessions is already set to go. Until then, you can wait in our guest lounge where you can enjoy our welcome drinks and snacks. Here are the keys to your lockers where you can place your personal belongings and retrieve the necessities that you will need for your therapy sessions. One of our staff will come to assist you and help you get ready for your mud bath session once everything is set up and ready for you.”

After expressing your gratitude to the receptionist, you turn to Yoongi again to gauge his reaction. He seems pretty calm for someone who was caught off guard by your surprise plan. Though he didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea of soaking in a tub full of mud when you first brought it up, but there is not a sign of displeasure coming out of him while he is listening attentively to the receptionist as she continues to explain more about the mud bath therapy, before finally sending you off to the guest lounge where you can wait for your sessions to start.

A female attendant comes to fetch you and Yoongi at the lounge only a short while later. After showing you the locker rooms—where you are able to secure your personal belongings and change into the bath robe that they provided for you—she takes you through the establishment while guiding you through the next steps before your treatment.

Through the short tour that she is giving you, you get to see the area where the massage rooms are located, and even get to take a quick peek at one of the vacant rooms which may be available for you to use later after the bath. You also get to see various other therapy rooms along the way, enticing you to one day try and experience them if you ever have the chance to.

Once you enter the baths section, you walk past the jacuzzi and sauna, and you are quite amused to see an indoor swimming pool that they provide for their water therapy sessions. Soon enough, you are heading towards the area where the rooms for the mud baths. Your anticipation grows when the attendant turns to you and asks, “Are we ready to head straight to the main course of your treatment?”

“Yes, absolutely,” you quickly answer, as you can no longer contain your eagerness. You slip your arm around Yoongi’s, and his lips curl up to a small smile as he looks you.

The attendant leads the two of you through the hallway that feels slightly warmer and the air much denser compared to the previous areas. It continues until the end of the hallway which parts into two separate lanes, with singular doors occupying each of them.

“We have provided separate rooms for our mud bath treatment to give more privacy,” the attendant explains as she shows you through the private section for the bath. “As you can see here, we have two types of rooms which our guests can choose—one with the separate, singular tubs, and the other with the joint tub that couples are usually more interested to try on. According to the booking details, I believe the couples package is the one you booked for today’s treatment, is that correct?”

“Oh, yes,” you answer her with a smile. “It would be the first time for both of us to experience this, and I think my fiancé is a bit nervous about it,” you claim with a flicker of a glance at Yoongi who is looking at you with raised eyebrows, “so we thought that choosing the couples package would help us feel more comfortable as we’re trying it together.”

“That’s a brilliant choice,” the attendant says, nodding her head. “Couples who came to us without prior experience to this kind of treatment have always chosen to use the joint tub to make it less awkward for them. We also believe that it would give you a wonderful chance to have a special bonding time with your partner.” She winks at you as she says this. “Let me show you where you are going to have your bath.”

With your hand holding tightly on Yoongi’s cold one, you both follow the attendant as she walks into one of the rooms. It is a medium sized room with a stone tub right in the center of it which has been filled with an overflowing amount of smooth, creamy, grey mud. The tub is probably not that much bigger compared to a queen-sized bed, but it does seem to fit two person to lie inside it and have a long dip without feeling crowded.

Just like the hallway outside, the room feels warm, but a bit more comfortable than the stuffy hall in which you walked through to get here. There is a subtle scent of lavender wafting in the air around you, which is probably what makes it feel less stuffy and more cozy as you step into the room.

On either side of the tub, you see two long console tables made of dark-coloured hardwood. Each one of them holds an array of small candles, all having been lighted up with flames flickering against the flowing breeze, and ceramic plates holding up burning incenses that may have been the source of the delightful scent of lavender that you are breathing in. The lighting in the room itself is kept dimly-lit, yet the candles help illuminate the room without over saturating the interiors, making it seem calming and relaxing instead of giving you a gloomy sense of space.

“This is one of our couples-only mud rooms which had been reserved specially for your treatment,” the attendant says, stepping aside so you can have a good look at the entire room as you walk deeper into the center of the room with your hands entwined to Yoongi’s.

You follow your fiancé’s gaze as he silently observes the filled tub, and the attendant continues to explain, as if noticing where Yoongi’s attention is being drawn towards. “As you can see, we have prepared for you our special mud with the right temperature that would be comfortable for your first try. We only use the highest quality volcanic mud for our baths, taken from the local natural resource and processed exclusively for our bath therapy. As you may have read in our website, this mud acts as a detoxifier, with muscle relaxation and skin cleansing agent that will be activated under the perfect temperature. Rest assure, that we always replace the mud with fresh ones after each use and we have prepared freshly processed mud for your treatment today.”

Hearing this seems to ease Yoongi’s mind a little more as he no longer seems as tense as he was before. The attendant smiles, obviously noticing this change in Yoongi’s mood and the astonished look on your face.

“The recommended time for the bath is usually between twenty to thirty minutes, but you are free to end the bath sooner if you are feeling too uncomfortable under the heat. And you need to remember that you’ll have to step out of the bath before the heat starts to cool down, because then all the healing agents will no longer be active and the mud will harden on your skin. The lights above the door will turn on once the thirty minutes count is up and there will also be the sound of the bell to notify you in case you fall asleep or loose track of time—which often happens when a guest feels too comfortable under the warm mud,” she continues, pointing at the row of small lamps above the door, making sure that you would be able to notice them once they are lighted up.

“Once you step out of the bath, you can proceed to the adjacent shower room where you can wash off the remaining mud on your skin. From there, you can press the bell or contact any staff through the intercom and someone will come to assist you and show you where to go for your next treatment. Do you have any further question?”

You turn to Yoongi, who still seems a bit doubtful, trying to see if he has anything to inquire from the attendant to answer some of the curiosity that you can still clearly see on his face. Yet he keeps his silence, so you figure that there is nothing more for either of you to say. “I think we’re good for now. All we have to do next is dip straight in, right?”

“That’s right,” the attendant nods. “Just soak in the mud like you would in a hot tub, and let the mud do all the magic. If you have no further question, then I’ll take my leave and let you enjoy the bath. There are fresh towels and bath robes that you can put on either after the mud bath or once you’ve stepped out of the shower. A staff will come if you ever need any help. Just press the button on the intercom and we’ll keep in touch with you for further assistance.”

Once she is done showing you everything that you may need during your bath, you thank the attendant for her service and guidance, and she gracefully exits the room to give you all the privacy that you need. Just as the silence settles in between you, the excitement to start the bath grows on you while Yoongi appears to be completely fixated on the tub full of mud.

“Well, this is—” he begins to say, and you chime in to finish his words,

“Exciting?” you tease him, earning a light scoff from him in response.

“Nerve-racking would probably be a more fitting way to describe it,” he says with a grin, though it is quite obvious that he has grown more intrigued by the sight of the bubbling mud before you now that he is seeing it for himself.

With a soft giggle, you cling to his arm and tease him a little to help him ease up a bit more. “Oh, come on. This looks fun. You said you wanted to experience this with me.”

Sighing, Yoongi looks over to the tub again and says, “I have to admit, I was expecting to see a pile of nasty mud when I first heard about this. Anything that would be—unhealthy.”

You tilt your head at him. “And now that you’re seeing it?”

Yoongi takes one last look at the tub, squinting his eyes as he catches the sight of the small bubbles appearing on the surface and says, “It still looks nasty.”

This time, you cannot help but laugh. “You heard what our guide said earlier, didn’t you? She said that it’s supposed to be good for your skin and body.”

Yoongi gives you another scoff, though the dubious look he has been giving you slowly shifts into mischief when he sarcastically says, “That’s just her way of selling it to make sure that you’ll come back for more.”

You can only shake your head at his comment and smile. “Well, you know that I’m already sold. We wouldn’t be here today in the first place if I hadn’t been,” you say to him, referring to when you first learned about the mud bath treatment while you were searching through the internet to know more about the resort.

“Fine, let’s see if all that hype about this ‘healing factors’ from the mud is more than false advertisement,” he says as he presses a kiss on the tip of your nose.

Yoongi walks over to the stone tub right after. Staring at the grey mess in the tub, he gets a bit closer so he can observe it further. He leans forward, his face hovering above the surface to feel the heat on his skin.

The surface of the mud looks to be steaming, confirming everything that the attendant had told you about how they were keeping it warm while preparing this mud bath for you. You feel wary about the heat at first, before reminding yourself that the healing factors from the mud will only be activated under the perfect temperature.

Curious, you walk closer to the other side of the tub and dip your finger into the mud. It does feel warm, almost similar to the temperature that you would normally prefer for your hot bath to soothe your tensed muscles. The mud feels just a bit slimier than what you had expected it to be as you pull out your stained finger and mesh it with your thumb.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on you the entire time you are feeling up the texture. “That looks,” he murmurs while frowning at the sight of it, “a bit gross.”

“Oh, come on. Just get in. It’ll be fine, I promise,” you say to him as you straighten back up.

Without waiting for him to respond, you start to peel the robe off of your body, making quite a show on it as you strip down right in front of his eyes. Yoongi never looks away from you, and you can clearly see his sharp gaze darkening at the sight of your bare skin. Tossing the robe away, you carefully begin to step into the tub, gasping slightly at the first touch as you slowly dip your toe into the mud. “Oh, my—”

“Be careful,” Yoongi says as he rushes to your side. Gently placing one hand on your bare waist while holding out the other so you can have something to hold on to, Yoongi helps you to get into the tub and stays by your side as you adjust yourself in it. He continues watching you closely until you are settled nicely on the bottom of the tub, submerging your whole body into the mud right up to your neck.

“How does it feel?” he curiously asks you as you close your eyes briefly to enjoy the new sensation that is now engulfing you.

You open your mouth to answer him, only for your voice to come out in a soft hum.

After you are settled down in it, you find that the texture of the mud is quite—interesting. It is slick and heavy, and its warmth seems to be pressing against your skin, giving you soft massages which slowly help ease all the tension in your body.

“It feels warm and relaxing. I can feel every tension in my muscles melting away,” you finally answer Yoongi with a hum as you lean back, resting your back against the back of the tub and finding comfort instead of feeling like you are being pressed down by the weight of the mud.

“You’re starting to sound exactly like the staff earlier,” Yoongi claims with a grumble, though you cannot miss the undertone laughter in his voice, as if he is amused to watch you enjoying yourself and finding some delight in being submerged into something that seems so—dirty.

The expression that he is making makes you laugh, but you cool yourself down and straighten your back as you coax him to join you. “Come on, you have to come in and join me to know what it’s really like.”

Yoongi frowns. “It doesn’t feel gross at all?” His lips turn down as he asks you this, but you barely notice it when you have been completely drawn to the mud, feeling amazed by how it feels on your skin.

“No, it feels more like—” you answer as you slide your hands back and forth, feeling the weight of the substance against your fingers and your whole body as you shift deeper to relax. “Being weighed under a warm blanket. It’s not gross, I promise. A bit weird and new, but nothing that would make you feel icky.”

Yoongi shakes his head and chuckles when he notices how entranced you seem to be. “Fine, if you say so,” he calmly says, despite still looking a bit unsure about all of this.

Yet he still walks back to his side of the tub and carefully takes his robe off, getting ready to dive in. You keep your eyes on him the entire time, shamelessly watching him as he strips himself down until he is completely bare. He looks up just as you are perusing his body with your gaze, drawing a grin to his face.

“You seem to enjoy what you’re seeing right now,” he teases. A bit more of his apprehensiveness fading now that he has his focus on you. Seeing that you are able to distract him from his discomfort, you continue eyeing him, humming as you openly appreciate what you are seeing.

“I do, actually,” you answer him with a hum, which makes him shake his head as he completely discards his robe. “Maybe I’m just picturing you being covered in this beautiful mud.”

Yoongi chuckles, and you are pleasantly surprised to see that your comment has somehow eased him up further. His smile only falters when he finally moves, carefully stepping into the tub with his left foot and slightly wincing when his skin makes contact with the slick mud. Once he steps his other foot in, he is no longer wincing at it, though he still appears quite uneasy about getting in. Yet he still lowers himself into the mud, allowing it to cover his entire body as he settles down right beside you.

You wait until he relaxes with a sigh before commenting, “There you go. How is it?”

His eyebrows are furrowed for a brief moment. “Tolerable, I suppose,” he says with a hum. “You were right about it being like a weighed blanket. This stuff is heavy on the body, and a bit—thick.”

The way he says the latter—as the word seems to be filled with disapproval, while at the same time, sounds as if he is amused—makes you laugh. “Yes, it actually does,” you admit as you continue moving your hands around, staying close to the surface as you try to gauge the thickness and the texture against your skin.

Lifting your hands up requires quite an effort. The way your fingers emerge from the surface while being covered by the mud seems like such an amusing sight. Curious, you raise your hand up and smear a thin layer of mud on your cheek. Unsurprisingly, it feels soothing on your skin, so you add a bit more onto the other side to make yourself a facial mask out of the mud. Your action draws Yoongi’s curiosity as he watches you playing around with the substance.

“What are you doing?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested that an idea sparks in your head.

“Putting on a face mask,” you tell him as you dip your hand back into the mud, gathering some of them on your fingers while offering him, “want to try it?”

“Why would you—hey!” he protests as you smear a small amount of mud on his cheek. He tries to wipe it off, only to add some more mud on his face as he brushes his mud-covered fingers on his skin. Confused and bewildered, he looks down on his hands before rubbing his face again, making more mess on his face when instead of wiping off the mud, he only adds more to it. “What the—” he laughs incredulously.

“It’s fine. I’m telling you, it’s a face mask. Other spas often use mud for their facial mask treatments, so I figured, since we have a whole bath tub of it, why not put some on so we can have extra facial therapy?” you try to reason with Yoongi while holding back from laughing when you see the dubious look on his face returning tenfold.

“Hmm, is that so?” he teases you back, making you wonder what he is up to when he dips his hand into the mud and subtly shifts closer. The sly smirk you see growing on his face certainly has his bad intention written all over it. “Then, since we have all of this mud to use, why don’t we make use of the rest while we have the chance?”

Before you can figure out what he means by it, Yoongi slips his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, all while he carefully begins dipping your entire body backwards into the mud.

“No!,” you scream out while laughing nonstop, causing all effort to stop him seem fruitless. Yet Yoongi doesn’t stop, though he isn’t going as far as actually submerging you completely into the mud. The moment you feel the mud touching your hair and coating the back of your neck, and once your breath is heavy from the weight of the mud pressing down your chest and the thrill of being submerged completely in it, he pulls you back up and helps you sit back against the edge of the tub.

“Did I scare you, kitten?” he whispers against your earlobe, causing your entire body to shiver. Your breath is still ragged and your heart is still beating rapidly after his evil prank. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, and once you are calmed, you splash a handful of mud at him to retaliate.

“You’re so bad,” you playfully scold him as he draws back to avoid your attacks while laughing.

“Sorry, kitten. I couldn’t help myself,” he says to you, kissing the tip of your nose and flicking at it, smearing more mud to your face. “You’re just so irresistible. And you did say that you wanted to try everything.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes and try to wipe off the mud from your nose and some that had gotten around your ears and your temple. “Now sit back and behave. We’re supposed to be enjoying the bath and have some healing, not play around like this and make a mess,” you playfully scold him, pointing at the mess on the floor around the tub which he created to distract both him and yourself from the odd trembling that your body is experiencing after his playful stunt.

As if the thought of being under the mud, being made to feel helpless and finding trouble to breathe actually excites you in ways that you cannot understand.

“Okay. Whatever you say, kitten,” Yoongi complies easily, something that should be making you wary. But as he settles back into position with his back resting against the side of the tub and his body mostly submerged in the mud, you decide that it would be best to join him and try to relax, allowing the mud to take effect on your body.

You shift back in place, trying to regain the comfortable position that you had earlier as you settle down right beside Yoongi. Moments later, you begin to feel the effect of the mud on your body which is quite unexpected. You try to move your hands under the mud as you shift back, and immediately notice that not only do you feel like you are being weighed down by the thickness of the mud, you also feel as if you are being restrained by it.

“Huh, interesting.”

Yoongi has been sloshing around underneath the surface of the mud, moving his hands around to test out the thickness of the mud to feed his own curiosity instead of embracing it. But your comment makes him stop and turn to look at you.

“What is it?”

You give him no answer and feel around a bit more. “Hmm, it feels a bit hard to move once my hands are lowered deeper into the mud. As if—” you stop to try again, trying to show him what you are trying to say, only to find that it is becoming impossible to move your hand further up, even when the surface of the mud starts to ripple around you. “It feels like it is holding my hands down so I can’t really move them as easily as before.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “Are you saying that it makes you feel like you’re being tied down? Is that it?”

“Yeah, that seems to be the case. Or maybe because what you did earlier loosened my muscles so much that my whole body feels lax now under the mud,” you answer him almost distractedly, as you are paying close attention to the sensations that you are beginning to feel all over your body.

With your lack of experience of being in a mud bath before, you are feeling hypersensitive to every single sensation that the mud is giving you. The warmth that you feel massaging your nerves and the weight that is pressing down on your body are beginning to feel real good.

And not just in a relaxing kind of way.

While Yoongi continues moving his hands and legs around, allowing you to feel all the more restrained when you are unable to do the same with your own hands that had sunk too deep under the mud, you become more sensitive to how the mud is moving between your legs as you stretch them forward and slowly part them open.

All of a sudden, your mind begins drifting towards all the more inappropriate things that you should ever be thinking about while being in a public bath. Yet with all the sensations that you are now feeling coming to you at once, it is becoming quite impossible for you to ignore it. A gasp nearly escapes you when you try to shift, when adjusting your position in the tub only leads to the mud touching your sensitive spots that are hidden underneath.

“Hmm…you know what? This does feel pretty relaxing, more than I expected it would be,” Yoongi suddenly says, though his voice seems to fade in and out when you are starting to lose yourself in a new kind of need that suddenly comes over you when the mud is starting to press down the area between your parted legs.

“Is it now?” you answer him, though your voice sounds too airy, with your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths when you start feeling like there are invisible fingers pressing against your core. When in reality, there is nothing there but the heat of the soft, silky mud pressing down on you.

Surely enough, Yoongi is quick to sense this change of mood of yours. You can tell—even through your haze—when Yoongi turns his head to look closer at you and his gaze is locked on yours, searching, feeling amused and somewhat intrigued to see how your body seems to be reacting to the mud.

“Are you okay there, kitten?”

“Mm-hm, I’m just—” you sigh deeply with your eyes fluttering close, unable to hold yourself together when the mud moves, brushing against your bare pussy. It takes you another inhale of breath before you can continue to answer him, “I’m okay, really. I’m just enjoying all of this.”

“Is that so?” Yoongi questions you. With your focus on the tingling sensation rising in your body and your eyes barely open to pay attention on your surroundings, you fail to notice it when Yoongi eases his way closer to your side. Until the moment you feel the mud shifts as he brings his whole body weight closer so you can feel his presence, with the new proximity and the subtle touch of his hand on your leg when he is searching for you causing the tingles on your skin to grow more intense.

Just as the anticipation keeps building up, Yoongi finally makes a bold move and slips his hand between your legs.

He starts off by doing it lightly. A gentle tease at the are between your legs with his hand moving right under the mud. He barely makes contact to your skin, yet with the slight slosh of mud as he moves his hand closer, as his fingers are slowly reaching to the source of your heat, it feels like there is an invisible touch brushing against your center. The sensation sends a shudder through your whole body, bringing up a new kind of heat building from within your body.

Once he moves, not only the mud beneath but even the air seems to stir around you. And when his fingers finally find you, a light touch brushing against your folds with a thick slickness that is present between his touch and your hot skin, a spark lights up, your body jolts as a rush of pleasure strikes you so intensely. Though the weight of the mud keeps you still, restraining you under and keeping you from thrashing around.

The pleasure that rushes through you comes in small spasms that begin from the depth of your core, slowly rising as he gives a gentle tease at your clit. The sensation coming from the warm, soft clay being rubbed against your clit and his fingers flickering at your entrance feel absolutely maddening, and you are slowly losing control of yourself.

As the pleasure builds up, rising rapidly through his gentle touch, Yoongi halts every movement and starts moving his hand away.

“Yoongii—” you whine at the loss of his touch, even though you can still feel the shadow of his fingers that remains in the sloshing mud pressing at your hot core, drawing a series of pulsing heat coming from within you.

“Patience,” he whispers, while he touches your inner thigh, brushing lightly in a teasing way which makes you want to push your hips up, fighting against the restraining mud to catch his hand. “How badly do you want this, kitten?”

“I—” your words fade to a gasp when you feel the tips of his fingers returning, hovering close to your center. You cannot see it, but the disrupted mud helps give it away as his fingers are dancing close to your folds, keeping away just an inch to tease you.

“Talk to me, kitten,” he mutters .While he is keeping his voice gentle, you can still sense the firm command that he is giving you, drawing the more submissive part of you to take hold.

“I want it. So badly. Please, Sir, allow me—” A gasp stops you, drawn by the light touch of his finger on your skin when his fingers find your inner thigh. ”Allow me to cum. Please, I beg you.”

“Such a polite kitten,” he praises, making your chest swell with pride which only heightens your sensitivity to his touch. “How could I not reward you when you beg me so sweetly?”

“Yes, Sir. I—”

Whatever it is that you wish to say to him evaporates when his fingers return to you, coming right back to where you want him to be the most. Almost immediately, you feel like you are about to erupt. The minor tremors which had been building before are now increasing rapidly, and there is no stopping it from escalating further when Yoongi abandons his gentle touches and begins doing it more firmly.

Noticing how you are responding to him now, Yoongi decides to take more risk. Using the fingers that have been pressing against your pulsing entrance, he slowly pushes, sticking his finger inside you. He stops once he gets a knuckle in, and already your body shudders, while your walls pulse around his digit. The thought of any possible way there would be mud being pushed into you is brushed aside when your mind is muddled by the mixed sensations given to you from multiple things at once.

Yoongi draws back slightly and pulls his finger back out, using only his thumb to rub circles on your clit and distract you from what he is about to do next. Yet your muscles react before your mind can even process the feeling of his finger returning into your pussy, slowly sliding in between your tight walls, with your hips rising to chase him, denying his escape.

“Yoongi,” you gasp out his name, and he responds only by bringing his finger back to your hot entrance, not just one this time, but two of them, spreading your pussy walls as he slides them inside you deeper. “Oh! Oh, God—!”

There is a dark flame in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives you his full attention. He can easily tell that you are getting closer to the edge. He can even feel it through the spasms coming from your delicate walls that are clenching around his digits as he continues sliding them in and out of you. At the same time, he continues rubbing your clit with his thumb in a rapidly increasing pace, adding a myriad of sensations flowing onto you at once.

As your body begins to react to the heightened pleasure, the mud on the surface of the bath began to move around you, showing the world what is happening beneath the mud. Sliding closer, Yoongi slips his other arm around your back, holding your body up to him and keeping you from thrashing more wildly. His hand reaches your breast, and he begins to palm the soft mound, using the slick mud to easily rub and knead until you are arching against him in response.

It only takes a few more passing seconds, a few more thrusts and rubs, with his fingers finding your hardened nipple to give it a pinch, and you are taken over by the wave of your orgasm, pushing you over the edge that you come so hard that the mud around you ripples wildly, sloshing at the surface despite keeping you locked with nowhere to go. There is no escape, as you are kept restrained under the weight of the mud and within Yoongi’s tight embrace as you are plunged straight into your climax.

Your cries of pleasure are threatening to join all the frenzy happening at the height of your orgasm, but Yoongi is quick to take action. He leans in to capture your lips and drown the sound of your moans before anyone passing by the hallway outside can hear you.

Yoongi keeps his arms around you as your body is taking its sweet time to recover, holding you up against him as he slowly pulls his hand away from your heat. He draws back from the kiss once he feels the shudders in your body subsiding, and your body slumps against him. Your muscles instantly grow lax in the aftermath of your climax and under the warm comfort of the healing mud.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling high from the ‘healing factors’, kitten?” Yoongi teases you as he slowly releases you from his hold, letting you slip back into your previous position in the bath tub.

You open your tired eyes with a light chuckle. “Oh, I’m feeling everything. Thank you very much for your kind assistance.”

Yoongi laughs at your comment. He seems pleased with himself—as he probably should—when he leans into you again, pressing his lips on your temple. It is then when you finally notice the mess that you have left behind on his body—the smeared mud covering nearly half his face that is beginning to dry out, and some that have gotten on his hair. You have no doubt that you are in a bigger mess after everything that he had done, yet you can care less about it, when the only thing that you can feel aside from the drying mud on your face, hair, and neck, is the way your body is humming softly with pleasure. And you can feel it coming from both your climax and quite likely the healing factor that the mud has given you.

Just as things begin to calm down, the lights above the door start flickering, letting you know that the thirty minutes time limit is up.

“Perfect timing,” Yoongi says as he observes the lights and the timer beneath it. “Should we move to the shower to clean ourselves? We need to make sure that we didn’t have any mud getting into your private parts now, do we?”

You wince at the thought of the mud reaching into the most delicate part of your body and immediately agree. “Seems like the mud is cooling down too, so we better get out of here.”

While you are having trouble pushing yourself up with your legs feeling like rubber and your hands still heavy in the cooling mud, Yoongi manages to slip out of the tub with little ease.

“Hang on, I’ll come and get you,” he says as he carefully reaches for the towels.

After cleaning his hands and legs enough to move easier and then slipping into a robe to cover himself, Yoongi walks over to assist you, helping you escape the mud’s possessive grasp and holding you up on your swaying feet.

Your chest swells when you see him coming down on his knees before you. With gentle hands, he helps clean your feet just so you wouldn’t slip on the floor, before helping you with your robe.

You continue to cling onto his arm as you both make your way to the adjacent shower room, following the attendant’s guidance to find it. Stopping right in front of the alluring shower space, Yoongi slips his arm around your waist and sneakily starts undoing your robe.

“Should I help clean you up?” he offers, drawing a soft hum out of you when the thought of him pampering you under the shower seems enticing.

“You want to give me a bath?” you ask him with a soft, tired laugh.

“You know I’d do anything for you, which includes making sure that you are properly cleaned,” he teases you as he slowly strips you out of your robe.

The remaining mud on your skin feels dry, and you want nothing more than to wash them all off to feel refreshed again. And then there are the underlying worries of having mud in places where it isn’t supposed to be. As if he knows what you are thinking, Yoongi coaxes you further by saying, “I was the one who made a mess of you earlier, shouldn’t I be responsible to clean everything away?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you murmur softly as you turn around, pulling his robe so you can strip him out of it. “You do need to take responsibility for all of this mess.” With a single pull, you manage to undo the robe and push it off of his shoulders. Once the stained robe falls to the floor, you take his hands and begin pulling him with you into the shower.

Any plans that you had on taking the lead simply fades when Yoongi grabs you around the waist and kisses you deeply. He keeps you distracted while he turns the shower on, surprising you as the water falls around you.

You gasp into the kiss as the water hits your skin. Your entire body is still sensitive after the previous treatment that the water feels like light massages pressing on your skin. With your eyes closed, you allow your head to fall back and embrace the blissful pleasure coming from the running water. It feels calming and refreshing at the same time, until Yoongi’s hands come to your skin with their gentle touch which brings back the heat in your body.

“Relax, kitten,” Yoongi whispers to you when he feels you flinching at his touch, though you make no move to avoid him. He smiles to you when you open your eyes and says, “Let me take care of you.”

His soothing words help you feel more relaxed to his touch, even if your skin is still so sensitive, and there is a faint humming sensation coming from deep inside your core which becomes even more evident the more he keeps touching you.

“If you insist,” you say to him with a hum. Then you reach up, brushing your fingers through the messy strands of his hair that are stained with drying mud. “But only if you let me do the same and help you clean up too.”

Yoongi chuckles softly. “I’m not going to stop you,” he says, as he begins rubbing the mud stains off of your face. “You know that I always enjoy it when you are touching me.”

With that, you quickly do the same to him, starting from his face, as you rub his skin clean from the mud, before moving to wash his hair using the shampoo that has been provided for you to use.

Things become intense and quickly start heating up as you take turns taking care of each other under the running water. You take pleasure in the way he is tenderly washing your hair just as much as you enjoy doing the same to him. He makes your heart stutter as he traces your face with his lips right after his fingers are done washing away the remaining mud on your face and down to your neck, while you draw soft sighs from him when you do the same, as you clean his face, his jawline, and his neck from all the mud.

Your breath quickens as his hands move lower to find your breasts. He takes his sweet time on your soft mounds, as he lathers a handful of the herbal-scented liquid soap on your flesh and starts rubbing, massaging them with his palms, and then moving to rub your hardened nipples clean until no more mud is left behind. In the wake of his touch, he leaves behind a trail of heat, surging all the way down your body from where he is touching you so intensely.

The water raining down on you from the shower is beginning to grow colder while you are tending one another and washing away what still remains from the mud bath, yet his steady hands are helping you feel warm as he runs them down on your skin, going lower and lower, moving past your hips and not stopping until he gets low enough to reach your thighs.

“Yoongi—” you cry softly as he runs his fingers along the inner side of your thighs. You can only let him as he grips at your thigh and slowly starts lifting one of your legs up, opening yourself to him.

“It’s okay, kitten. I just want to make sure that we have your body thoroughly cleaned,” he murmurs against your lips, before giving you a soft kiss. “I don’t want to miss anything when we’re done here.”

By the time he slips his other hand between your parted legs, you are too delirious to give him a proper response. All that you can give him is a soft sigh as his fingers find your folds. The sounds you are making grow deeper, shifting into a series of gasps and moans as he parts your nether lips and begins rubbing his fingers gently around the sensitive parts of your body.

Starting from your swollen clit, he moves his fingers in circles as he wipes away the slimy mud while coaxing a different kind of moisture to rise in its absence. Then he moves to your slit, rubbing back and forth until he no longer finds any of the slick substance left behind, and he doesn’t stop even when he feels your slick arousal coating all over his digits.

Once he is pleased with the result, Yoongi presses down the tips of his fingers right at your hot entrance. He barely pushes his way in when your pussy reacts with a throb, every pulse that has waned down begins to come back alive under his touch.

You start to sway, barely able to hold your weight with only one leg holding you up as he has a tight grip on the other to keep it lifted. The pleasure that keeps rising is beginning to make your legs quiver beneath you and your mind starts spinning, so you reach up and grab onto his bare shoulders, keeping a tight hold there for leverage.

“Let’s make sure that I didn’t get any of that mess deep inside here as well,” he says, right before he pushes his fingers into your pussy, drawing a low, breathless moan through you when his invading digits are spreading your pulsing walls apart. A wave of pleasure rocks your entire body and you shudder, already coming so close to your climax even before he begins moving his fingers further.

“Is everything alright, kitten?” Yoongi teases you with a playful nip at the side of your neck.

“Yoongi, I—” you gasp softly when his finger start getting deeper. “Oh, fuck!” you gasp before teasing him, “I don’t think that this is what they meant about using this therapy to help us bond.”

Yoongi chuckles softly. “What are you talking about, kitten? I’m just trying to be thorough.”

“Hmmm—of course, you are,” you sarcastically scoff at him. Yet your voice sounds feeble, and your moans are betraying you by showing how much you need him to go on.

“I can tell that you are properly cleaned down here,” he murmurs against your earlobe. “But why are you getting wet, kitten? I know that this isn’t coming from the bath earlier, nor is it coming from the shower.”

You let out a groan. “You know that it’s your fault.”

“Is it now?” he chuckles. “Is that why you are rocking your hips, kitten?”

You gasp as you realise what you are doing, when your hips are moving back and forth and start grinding against his fingers before you can stop yourself. “I can’t help it. It feels so good.” You whine softly and nearly cry out when he presses down deeply against your sweet spot. “Oh, Yoongi—I think I’m going to cum.”

“Already? So soon?” he groans against your neck as he presses a kiss there. He gives you a few more strokes, pressing deep inside your pussy, before pulling his fingers back out to stop you from embracing your climax. You open your eyes to protest, only to see his mischievous grin as he whispers to you, “What’s the matter, kitten?”

“Why did you stop?” You pout, making him laugh.

“Do you want me to go on?”

“But we’re not finished yet,” you say to him with a soft whine. Looking away from him, you reach down between your bodies to find his erection and wrap your hand around its girth. Using the running water and the excess soap you still have in your grip, you move your hand up and down his length, rubbing off the small stain of mud which is still coating his skin. “You’re still a bit dirty here too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s breath grows heavy as you continue stroking his cock, even when there is no more mud left behind. “You’re growing harder, Yoongi,” you tease him, “Does it feel good?”

Opening his eyes, Yoongi groans at your touch. “You’re such a naughty kitten. I should punish you for being so bad.”

“Hmmm—I think I do deserve a punishment, Sir,” you answer him with a low voice. “But can it wait? Please, Sir. I want to feel you inside me. It hurts. You promised to be thorough, and we don’t have that much time left.”

Groaning deeply, Yoongi grabs your wrist and stops you mid-stroke and slaps your bare bottom to scold you. Once on one side, then once more on the other side to make it even. It draws a gasp out of your lips, while the pain quickly merges into pleasure when he briefly rubs against your tender skin.

“Such a brat,” he says as he steps back in between your legs and presses his cock against your wet folds. “Is this what you want, kitten?” he teases you as he rocks back and forth, rubbing his cock across your hot slit. You feel the tip of his erection pressing at your entrance, and you instinctively move to press against it, hoping that you can get him inside you.

“Yes, please give me your cock, Sir. I need to cum,” you beg him as you rock back against him, enjoying the shudders rushing through your body which brings heat under the cold running water.

“Remember that you asked for it,” he says with a deep groan as he presses forward, finally entering you with one firm thrust. You were already close, already sensitive with the orgasm you reached during the bath and then after while he was cleaning you off from the mud, and it doesn’t take long before you feel it rising back up again even before he starts moving.

The first pulse of your orgasm erupts when he begins rocking his hips. He starts thrusting in and out of you in a rapid pace instead of taking it gently. His rough breathing falls against your neck, with deep moans slipping out each time he pushes his way deeper inside you to make you tremble against his body.

“Did you enjoy the mud bath, kitten? Tell me what you felt while you were soaking in that messy mud,” he asks you with deep grunts escaping his lips, and without even once slowing down. “Talk to me, kitten. Tell me everything.”

“It was,” you moan rather loudly as he thrusts forward just when you are trying to speak. “It felt pleasant. So good. Like the mud was massaging my entire body—” you stop with a gasp as your body starts rocking back against Yoongi in your desperate need to feel more. “Then I felt it moving around my—oh, fuck—my pussy, and it started to feel like it was touching me, rubbing against me.”

Yoongi trembles against you as he feels your walls pulsing around him. Thinking back about the sensation that the mud was giving you draws the same exact reaction from your body as it did before. Only that they all emerge through you more intensely with Yoongi being embedded deeply inside you, his girth rubbing against your walls while you are reminiscing every single thing that you experienced while soaking under the soft, silky mud.

“Then you started touching me, and I felt a lot more,” you continue with a strangled moan. “It felt like there were so many hands and fingers touching me at the same time, while the mud felt like invisible tongues licking all over my body.”

“Fuck, that’s crazy hot,” Yoongi groans, and as he tries to imagine how it must have felt for you to find release while he was playing with you in the mud, he unintentionally pushes forward with one rough thrust, sending you rising against the cold tile wall with its force.

“How did you—oh,” you moan when he shifts, finding a new angle which allows him to reach deeper. “What did you feel while you were in the mud?”

Yoongi opens his eyes at your question, and his strokes slow down just a little as he recalls his own experience. His eyes grow darker when he shares them with you. “It felt warm. You were right about how it felt like the mud was massaging your body, because it felt the same with me. Only that”—he groans as he tries to remember everything and starts picking up his pace—”it felt almost like it was licking and touching me until I grew hard, almost like I was getting an endless blowjob while I was trying to move closer to you.”

He starts moving faster again while being lost in his memory, as if he is trying to bring all the sensations back to his body again. “It felt so warm, almost like how it feels right now when I’m deep inside you.” He pushes forward again with a groan. “Only that this—the real thing—is much better. Way better.”

A sharp gasp slips out of you when he goes back to his rapid thrusts, pounding hard into you like an animal. The sound of your bodies slapping against one another under the running water fills the shower room, while the sound of your cries echoes against the walls around you.

“Yes, this is it. This is how it felt for me,” he groans deeply as he feels your pussy pulsing around his length, followed by the faint spasms of your incoming release gripping his cock with each thrust he is giving you. He reaches down between your rocking bodies, finding your clit and starts stroking and tormenting it until the waves of your pleasure wash over you and you shudder around his hard shaft.

“Cum for me, kitten. Cum on my cock right now,” he commands you with a rough pinch at your clit, and you come undone in a blissful climax while he keeps stroking his cock in and out of you.

Your bodies continue slapping against one another as he rides your orgasm. And he keeps going, continuing his steady thrusts until his body shudders against you as he finds his release, and he slides back into you as deep as he can for the last time as he lets himself go.

The sound of laboured breathes fill the room once you both fall silent in your slow recovery. It takes a moment before Yoongi finally steps back and releases you, keeping his arm around your waist to hold you steady while he reaches out to stop the shower from running.

“I can see now why they said that this therapy would be perfect for a bonding moment between couples. I’ve never had so much fun as I have today,” Yoongi teases you once you are both dry and fully clothed under the robe, stopping any chance of him initiating anything else while waiting for the staff to retrieve you from the shower room.

“I don’t think us getting frisky during the treatment and then after were the things that the staff meant when she talked about couples bonding over the therapy, though,” you respond while rolling your eyes.

Chuckling softly, Yoongi pulls you close to his chest. “Probably not,” he says. “But nobody can blame us for getting the best of it by going a few steps further.”

“Whatever you say,” you laugh at his playfulness, while almost forgetting that the day isn’t completely over yet. There is still a couple of other treatments that you will have to go through today before leaving the spa. Then you will be returning back to the cabin, where Yoongi will make good of his words yet again by claiming what he is owed.

But his illicit games and his punishments can wait. Right now, you just want to make use of all the healing that the spa can offer, and enjoy it together with your loving fiancé while the constant hum of your pleasure is still clinging onto you.

You hold his hand as you wait for the staff to come fetch you before taking you towards the next treatment, already feeling a new kind of excitement along with the contentment now surging through your body.

This trip may have its ups and downs at the beginning, but after what you shared with Yoongi for the past few hours alone, you can already tell that this is going to be an unforgettable getaway for the two of you.

One that you will definitely come to revisit in the future to find your sense of peace.

⤑ Author’s Note | Thank you for reading and for getting this far. Please kindly leave likes/kudos if you enjoyed the story, and also feel free to leave comments and questions if you have any. Any kind of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you again for reading!

#yoongi smut #suga smut #k-vanity #bangtanwhq #bangtansorciere #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #suga scenario #suga fluff #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader

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kisskiss-slashslash · 1 year ago

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Can I request jason voorhees, bubba sawyer, Thomas hewitt, and Vincent sinclair and how they would react to finding a message on the inside of their mask that says "rember, I♡U ~ Y/N" from their S/O other, and maybe another angst version where the find it after the reader died but for now just fluff please?

Yes you can <3 and I did both for all of them. First fluffy, then angsty

So yeah content warnings: Death

Masked Slashers when they discover that their s/o wrote a message on the back of their mask

Jason Voorhees

If he discovers it during your lifetime, he becomes downright giddy. He knows what it means, despite being unable to read. He has seen the same thing carved into way too many trees around camp. But this isn’t harming a tree or defacing the camp, it’s just you reminding him that while he is out there killing people, you are at home, waiting to lovingly welcome him back. And to return the favor, he may carve or write the same thing on something of yours, so you will also always know he loves you. Should he not discover the message before then, however…

His days have become so dark since you left. And since then, he also stopped taking off his mask so much. While you were alive, he had made it a habit to not wear it around you. After all, you loved all of him; there was no way to hide. So now, if he needed to eat or drink, he usually just lifted it a bit and put it back in place immediately after. So it took him a few weeks to discover your message.

Jason never learned to read, but he sees the little heart scribbled next to the message and that says just as much. His heart breaks all over again. For a good while, he just stands there with the mask in hand, bitter tears dripping onto the rough plastic.

Bubba Sawyer

You make this particular mask for Bubba, after watching how he maskes the masks himself many times. It really is a bit gross, but you’d do anything for him, so there you are, carefully stitching the flaps of skin together and finally using a permanent marker to write the message inside. Once he discovers it, he is over the moon. He will immediately drop anything he is doing and come to you to wrap you in a bear hug. Depending on the time of day, Drayton may chase him back to work with some choice words, or just roll his eyes and tell you to get a room.

Bubba has many masks, for every one of his moods. But he rarely swaps them out anymore, now that you aren’t around. While your body has been treated like the rest of the Sawyer-family’s deceased loved ones, sitting upstairs as well-preserved as possible and treated as if still alive, it is just not the same. You aren’t laughing and smiling anymore.

This mask that he wears now has been your work; you had insisted on making one for him a while ago.

When family bath day finally rolls around, he finds himself forced to take it off, and that’s then he finally notices it. A message for him, written inside of the mask, right on his cheek like a loving kiss. The other Sawyers can only watch in bewilderment as Bubba breaks down, sobbing and clutching the mask to his chest.

Thomas Hewitt

Making his human masks is grizzly business, and one he normally wouldn’t want to involve you in. But he remembers you sneaking downstairs not too long ago, citing simple curiosity as the reason.

He will most likely find the message fairly quickly, while washing up after a hard day of work. Once he sees it, he will smile to himself. While his reaction is fairly subdued, he will definitely be extra loving with you for the rest of the day, causing Hoyt to tease him about it.

Now that you’re gone, Thomas just tries to move on with his life, as painful as it is. He still has the rest of his family to provide for, after all.

During his work, he briefly takes off his mask to wipe off the sweat that gathered underneath, only to find the message inside. His heart cramps up at the sight, and he bites down on his lower lip to stop the tears flooding his eyes from making their way down his face.

Carefully, almost reverently, he puts the mask back on a dummy head, now deeming it way too precious to wear. Instead, he grabs another one, but before he can put it on, he freezes, realizing that his one also has the same message from you. Holding back the tears becomes even harder. Another mask. Same thing.

He finds that every single one of his masks has the same message scribbled on the inside. Overwhelmed by it, he sits down at his desk and buries his face in his hands, hoping it will conceal the hot streams of sorrow pouring from his eyes.

Vincent Sinclair

Leaving this kind of message in a wax mask is a bit difficult, but possible. You got yourself some gold foil from a craft store during your last trip to town, and while Vincent sleeps peacefully next to you, you quietly get up and carefully work the message into the wax with the foil. When Vincent wakes up and discovers it, he will look over to you and smile. That day, he works with even more vigor than usual, and come evening, presents you with a small wax figure he made especially for you.

Vincent considered himself almost immune to grief for a long time; even his mother’s death had made him determined to continue her legacy more than anything. But then you suddenly pass away, and he feels like the ground underneath his feet is crumbling.

Then he discovers the message, and he just… shuts down. It takes days for his brothers to coax him out of bed, and even then, he only gets up to stop his brothers from pestering him. Should any victims come to town during that time, he will go after them with the ferocity of a wild animal. In his head he is screaming “Why should you get to live?! With what right are you still breathing while they are gone?!”

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #thomas hewitt x reader

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moondance-r · 2 months ago

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SAGAU-adjacent not-Creator Creator 2

Summary: You knew, viscerally down to your bones, that you did not create this world; Teyvat had no grand creator, no single hand designing its wonders. It did, however, have something of a catalytic agent, without which it would not exist.

You.

[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

It had been an entirely unremarkable day for Diluc until Adelinde approached with a harried look on her face and handed him a slip of paper.

“It came by the Knights’ fastest hawk,” she informed him quietly.

Unrolled, the paper contained only the Favonius coat of arms marking it as official correspondence and a short message written in Jean’s hand, unusually shaky:

Creator sighted by Bard. Come with best harvest, They’re here.

Creator sighted.

A thrill ran down Diluc’s spine. For generations, they had hoped and prayed to see the Creator, and now They had descended during his lifetime. He was excited, but nervous too -- if anything went wrong, their ancestors wouldn’t just roll in their graves, they would burst out of the ground in anger.

“Adelinde,” he said, the tension in his tone enough for her to snap to attention, “prepare the Liberation casks for transport. I leave as soon as they’re ready.”

Adelinde’s eyes widened. “The Liberation casks, Master? But those are...”

“Yes. The Liberator has graced us with Their presence.”

The Liberation casks, named for the Liberator Themselves, consisted of samples of the best wine from every harvest since Mondstadt’s founding. They were first planned to be for the Creator, though as years passed with no sign of Them, the casks that deteriorated in taste were auctioned off for obscene amounts of money, valued as much for their superior taste as for their prestige.

And now he was going to watch all that work pay off.

He arrived to a Mondstadt bustling with activity. Children ran through the streets with armfuls of flowers, while their parents hung garland after garland on every building. As he walked to the Favonius headquarters after arranging for the Liberation casks to be delivered to Angel’s Share, Diluc watched a group of teens be roped into setting up a banner to unfurl across the main street. No one was spared from the festivities.

The Knights of Favonius headquarters was a hive of controlled chaos, and Diluc dodged more than one too-focused knight on the way to Jean’s office. He knocked twice on her door.

“Diluc here.”

“Come in,” was the response.

The Acting Grand Master of the Knights was noticeably frazzled, with clothes askew and splatters of ink on her sleeves. Diluc raised an eyebrow wordlessly.

“Our mutual bard friend alerted me to Their arrival just this morning. They were apparently located off our east coast and have been steadily moving west, and at Their current speed we expect Them to make landfall in another hour or two,” Jean said. That explained why everyone was in such a rush.

“I thought the preparations for it had been made centuries ago?” he asked idly. “The Knights are more inefficient than I thought.”

Lisa pushed the door open before Jean could answer. “The current Mondstadt is different from the Mondstadt of back then after all, of course we’ll need to make some adjustments.” She turned to the other woman in the room. “Jean, I have the ceremony records you wanted. It’s time for you to take a break, don’t you think?”

“There’s no time for that,” Jean said, already flipping through the thick stack of papers Lisa handed to her and making notes.

Diluc sighed, knowing that the Acting Grandmaster was impossible to dissuade when she became so focused. And besides, he wasn’t so dense as to deny the thrum of anxiety in his own chest -- this was the creator of their world they were talking about, the most important personage in existence, during Their first known descent to Teyvat. The mere thought of Their disappointment made him want to rip his heart out of his chest.

* * *

Mondstadt greeted you as a castle town on a lake island, connected to the mainland by only a single bridge. Beautiful yet defensible, you noted. It was yet another indication of this world’s troubled past.

Even across the stone bridge, you could hear cheering and indistinct chatter from a sizable crowd of people of all ages. Beyond the portcullis, a swarm of sparks lit up in your senses, little embers of your power similar to but weaker than the ones in the statue and Barbatos. As your gaze rested on each person in turn, a light breeze blew against your face and Anemo breathed into your ears:

Jean Gunnhildr, human, Anemo, born of Mondstadt.

A blonde woman.

Kaeya Alberich, human, Cryo, born of Khaenri’ah.

A tanned, dark-haired man.

Albedo, homunculus, Geo, created of Khaenri’ah.

A shorter man with pale hair.

Eula Lawrence, human, Cryo, born of Mondstadt.

A woman with light blue hair.

Diluc Ragnvindr, human, Pyro, born of Mondstadt.

A red-haired man wearing the most ornate outfit you had yet seen in this world.

There were more, but you flinched at the onslaught and pressed your eyes shut, causing the clamour to fade into a faint murmur.

“O Sweeping Gale?” Barbatos prompted. You could almost feel the way his attention sharpened, though you shook your head and continued with only the briefest hitch in your steps. He would probably be far too happy if you told him how the world itself was reacting to you.

Focusing on your greeting party wasn’t an improvement, however, as every eye was pinned on you. Jean saluted. “Your Grace, we welcome You to Mondstadt and hope You enjoy Your stay.”

Looking from her serious expression to the way everyone was almost vibrating with excitement, you sadly bid goodbye to any chance of correcting the Creator myth here.

* * *

The festival was a new experience for you, and you did enjoy it, but you had no plans to settle down. A night of meditation revealed that your awakening was linked to the roots of the world. People could access these roots through ley lines, and the biggest and strongest of these was called the Irminsul tree, one of which was known -- or at least strongly suspected -- to be in Sumeru.

You wanted to go there because you needed answers to your questions. Why did you wake now, not during earlier conflicts such as the Archon War or the Cataclysm when Teyvat’s need was arguably greater? And... was Teyvat ready to stand without you, for you to begin the arduous process of detangling yourself from its core? You had already been here for well over 6000 local solar orbits, albeit unaware for most of that time, and you couldn’t stay forever. One day you and Teyvat would walk separate paths; but you would also make sure that it wouldn’t crumble the instant you left the scene. That was what a responsible caretaker did.

However, your mortal body was unable to enter the core, so you could only access Teyvat indirectly through Irminsul. From the map of Teyvat that had been presented to you, the easiest way to Sumeru was to travel over land through Liyue. You were perfectly fine with walking -- you had more than enough time to detour through all seven nations if you wanted -- but Jean protested. Vehemently. In the end you managed to talk her down from a full honour guard to a horse and Diluc as a companion, since his manor was conveniently in the same direction. You had also, with difficulty, managed to avoid having an advance notice sent with news of your imminent arrival, by using the excuse that you wanted to see ‘your acolytes’ in their natural form. For some reason this worked -- you didn’t question it.

(Elsewhere, Venti gave his enthusiastic support. “I want to see Morax’s flustered face!” he crowed.)

Once again, you lamented the abundance of cults in magical worlds. You would have to be careful not to give any inclination that you planned to leave Teyvat entirely.

The journey to Dawn Winery was uneventful, save for a high number of slimes along your route that were, apparently, unusually docile. You’d spent an afternoon happily petting any that came within reach, even as Diluc fretted in his brusque way nearby. As for yourself, you weren’t worried at all; quite apart from your own not insubstantial power, slimes were elemental beings intimately connected to Teyvat, and nothing so aware of the world around them could or would harm you. Their very physiologies wouldn’t allow it.

Unfortunately, this didn’t extend to humans and other creatures who weren’t -- quite literally -- born of the earth, so your mortal journey was still in danger of being cut short. Who knew how long it would take to gestate another body? No, you had to take care of the one you had.

As you came out of the woods and caught your first glimpse of Dawn Winery and its sprawling vineyards, you let out a short, impressed breath. “It’s amazing,” you said quietly. It truly was.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Diluc turn away with a half-hidden smile. “Welcome to Dawn Winery.”

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Tagging: @fantasyhopperhea

Interact with this post here if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oc #genshin sagau #genshin reader insert #my writing #sagau-adjacent verse

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writteninlunarlight-years · 2 months ago

Text

Poet on the Broadcast

This is another one based on a song; it's a more sappier side of Alastor. It was also written for a close friend, @willowaudreykeyes. They gave me this bittersweet idea in an RP that we are working on. I hope you all enjoy it! Song: Rule#46 - Poet By Fish Inside a Bird Cage

TW: AFAB Reader, death, self sabotage, hallucinations, poor living experiences, violence, Hurt-> Comfort

Time was a cruel mistress indeed, an unrelenting thief that snatched away the very things we hold most dear. With every tick of the clock, she mercilessly stripped us of youth, laughter, and loved ones, leaving only echoes in her wake.

You were no exception. You bore witness to Alastor's fall—the haunting shadow of his demise forever etched in your memory. The freezing winds whipped through the snowy woods as you ran, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. Hounds barked, their growls reverberating through the trees, a sinister chorus to the chaos all around you. Gunshots rang out like thunder, each a heavy reminder of the danger that lurked just behind you. Every breath felt like a precious treasure, stolen not just from you, but from the man you loved, who had been a light in your dreary life.

Time granted you fleeting moments of respite, allowing you to catch your breath as you evaded the hounds as your partner wished in his dying breaths. Yet, it also forced you to confront the harsh reality of survival, time and again brushing against death for the sins of your beloved. For the enemies he created and formed in the years he stood by your side.

You lived a modest life, flitting between the opulence of high society and the grit of the streets. Each day was a delicate dance, a balancing act between the world of privilege and the shadows of hardship. But with every birthday that passed, a bittersweet yearning filled your heart—a longing to reunite with Alastor.

Then, just as that desire reached its peak, you closed your eyes letting time take you to the great unknown with the man you lost years ago. Except time no she is a cruel mistress indeed. You were awoken in a different body, younger, in a time that felt both foreign and familiar.

How cruel is time, to gift you this love only to rip it from your grasp again and again? How many lifetimes must you endure, each one marked by the haunting memory of him, always just out of reach?

In this second life, you became a PhD student, a mind lost in the pursuit of knowledge, but also a vigilante in the shadows of the city, fighting for those who had no voice. Yet, the memory of your beloved Alastor lingered, a ghostly echo of a man who was both psychotic and completely yours.

As the years drifted by in this new existence, the lines between memory and imagination began to blur. Why had you been granted this second chance? Was it a blessing or a cruel curse? Was the vision of Alastor beside you, whispered in the dark, merely a figment of a child’s imagination, a way to escape the unrelenting horrors of your reality?

As your birthday came and went once more, a darker fate awaited you. You found yourself thrust into a hellish red landscape, a cruel irony considering you had committed no sins. Roaming the streets of this infernal realm, you quickly adapted, your years spent fighting alongside Alastor sharpening your instincts, allowing you to rise swiftly within the ranks of hell.

Then, four years into your torment, you heard a broadcast that sent shivers down your spine. The Vee's were in an uproar, and you felt an inexplicable pull to the source of their distress. You tuned in, and the voice that emerged from the static struck a chord deep within you. It was a voice you had longed for, a melodic tune you remembered all too well—a voice that transported you back two lifetimes ago, when you would sit by the window at dusk, eagerly awaiting his return.

Could it be? That past life, once dismissed as mere fantasy, began to feel so so close to real. The stories he spun during that late-night special were ones only you knew the other half of, secrets woven into the fabric of your shared existence that you feared were long forgotten to time.

With your heart racing, you began to search for him, following the trail of his voice to a hotel for Hazbins seeking redemption. There, amid a myriad of misfits longing for a second chance, was a figure that made your heart leap—a deer demon who looked so painfully familiar yet foreign, a man shaped by the passage of time.

What is time, if not a relentless force that dulls the senses yet sharpens the soul? It is a cruel teacher, reminding us that every moment counts, that love, once lost, can sometimes be found again.

Driven by hope, you joined the redemption program, longing to get close to the man who resembled the Alastor of your memories. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and as a year slipped by, you found the courage to ask him the question that hung in the air like an unspoken promise.

“Are you Alastor, from New Orleans, 1920s, engaged to Y/N?” The question trembled on your lips, heavy with anticipation. You braced yourself for the lash out, for the fierce anger that had always danced in his eyes.

It was the very fire that had once ignited your passion and fear alike. But instead of a storm, you were met with a soft, bewildered stare. The smile that tugged at his lips was both awe-inspiring and heart-wrenching.

“How do you know about Y/N? Answer wisely, or your screams will be broadcast next for all of hell to hear.” His voice was low, edged with disbelief, and for a moment, the deer demon seemed almost vulnerable—a rarity in any world you knew him in.

“I am Y/N…” Your voice quivered, a fragile thread of conviction woven with longing. You hoped he could see the truth in your eyes, but as his expression morphed from shock to confusion and then to a flicker of spite, you understood that time was still playing its cruel game.

“No, no, you aren’t! Otherwise, you would have found me ages ago!” He stalked over to you grabbing yout collar. He growled in frustration and his grip tightened around your throat, lifting you to eye level, his horns casting ominous shadows. “How dare you pretend to be her? Who told you about that part of my past? Who do you know?”

Steadying your breath, you summoned every cherished memory, every detail only you could recall. The words poured from your honey-coated lips like a sweet symphony, and as he slowly let you down, a fond smile broke across both your faces.

“Lastly, you thought it blasphemous that I would put ice, honey, and lemon in my tea when you made it for me, telling me I might as well not be drinking it anyway.” As you spoke, the memory unfolded like a picture book bare before you, and before you knew it, he had pulled you into a tight lasting embrace.

Was this it? Had time finally allowed you to win? Had you endured enough in this limbo of two unfair lives? This embrace realigned everything that had felt lost for so long, a warmth spreading through your very being.

“I waited for you! I waited for years—ninety long years, my dear!” His voice trembled with emotion as he produced a collection of scripts, each one a fragment of his past, a thread leading back to you. Stories from the early days to the most recent broadcasts, all crafted to help you find him.

“I’m sorry it took so long, Ali… I truly apologize. I would wait a million years to stand beside you. But I am not who I once was. I am broken, scared, and changed by the lives I’ve lived. Would you really want that beside you?” Insecurities threatened to seep into your resolve, but the deeper you delved into the truth of your rough pasts, the more you realized how time had shaped you both.

He looked at you, confusion etched on his face, and then he laughed—a sound free of static, pure and unfiltered. Gently, he pulled you closer, his sigh a whisper of shared pain and understanding.

“You are stronger than you know. When you’re ready to let that strength show, let me guide you. You have every right to be scared; I have walked those same shadowed paths myself. When you’re ready to let go, I will be right here. I will always wait for you.”

At his words, tears welled in your eyes, a torrent of emotions spilling forth. No matter the hardships time had imposed or the years spent apart, you recognized that this love spanned lifetimes—enduring, unwavering. If he was willing to wait for you, then you would fight for him, heart and soul, against the cruelty of time.

Thank you for the support, my Moons~

#x reader #lunarwritings #moons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x you fluff #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor imagine #alastor fluff #alastor #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon

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teapartyprincess4two · 10 months ago

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Full Set is too damn good you write it sooo well. like I actually NEED more matt stories from you 🙏

Small Town Dreaming- M. Sturniolo

pairing: neighbor!reader x bestfriend!Matt

classification: fluff, best friends to lovers (kinda)

warnings: use of y/n, slow build up, small town au

summary: There’s not much to do in this small town but fall in love.

—

Your small town has been boring for as long as you can remember. The town was so small you could probably run down every street in less than an hour. There was one movie theater that played reruns of movies no one cared about, a bowling alley with 4 bowling balls in total, a park with a wooden termite infested playground, and a library with books so old they had mold. Everyone either had a flock of chickens or a herd of sheep, spending their free time tending to the livestock.

One of your favorite pastimes was to sneak up onto the old water tower and just people watch, occasionally pulling out your sketchbook to draw the familiar faces that passed by. No one ever left this town, it always seemed to suck people right back in and keep them here forever. So many people have tried leaving, packing their bags and driving down the main dirt road to freedom. For some reason or another they always turned back though, throwing their dreams out the window on the way.

“One day I’m moving to LA with my brothers,” Matt sighs dreamily, the both of you laying on the trunk of his car as you watch the stars. Without dreams this small, boring town would crush everyone’s spirits. “That’s a good idea,” you say, squinting your eyes as you pretend to squish the stars between your fingers. They looked like fireflies dancing in the sky.

You had a lot of dreams too, most of them involving running away and never turning back, but none of your dreams were written in stone yet. For some reason you felt like you’d end up like many others, too involved in your daily life to ever do something big. You’ve seen it happen to a lot people, your mom included. She was full of dreams and aspirations, but as soon as she got married and started having children it just felt easier to stay.

“What about you?” Matt asks, turning his head to look at you. “What about me?” You say in a teasing tone, hopping off the hood of the car. You were never the type to sit still, plus you didn’t have a definite answer to Matt’s question yet. “What are your dreams?” he asks again, formulating the question in a way that was much easier to answer. It was simple, you wanted to leave, but you were too scared to say it out loud. You felt like if you vocalized it, it wouldn’t come true. Maybe you’d follow Matt and his brothers, you didn’t know yet, but you didn’t want to stay here for the rest of your life.

You take a while to respond so he interjects again jokingly, “or are you staying here forever?” The idea of staying here forever was actually terrifying, but you’re only a junior in high school so it’s easy to push the thought to the back of your mind. “I am NOT staying here forever,” you reply, shivering at the idea of this town becoming your finally destination. “I won’t end up like my mom,” you whispered, shaking your head as you looked at the ground. Matt stays silent as he hops off the hood of the car, walking over to you and hugging you. “It’s okay. You can just come with me and my brothers,” he whispers against your hair as he rubs comforting circles into your back.

The sentiment was nice and it made you smile. “That could be fun,” you murmured, dreaming about a life that seemed so far away.

—

You’re 21 years old now and that conversation feels like a lifetime ago. You’re currently in the kitchen helping your mom prepare lunch for your dad and brothers. “Make sure you don’t cut the tomatoes too thick,” she instructs as she expertly cuts onions beside you. Over the years she managed to refine her kitchen skills, the onions having no affect on her whatsoever. You, on the other hand, are wiping away the involuntary tears with the back of your hand.

“I know how to cut tomatoes,” you reply, squinting so you can see through the tears. Her eyes are trained on you as she piles the onions into the pan. They sizzle loudly, steam rising from the hot pan. Sometimes you wonder why you even bothered helping her if she was going to be so bossy. “Then why are they so thick?” She retorts, grabbing one of the tomato slices from your cutting board and wiggling it around in her fingers. You laugh as you watch the tomato dance back in forth, “fine you do it then.”

She doesn’t second guess it, instead she grabs the knife from you and swiftly cuts the rest of the tomatoes. She’s done before you can even look away. You walk over to the sink to wash your hands before replying, “no one is gonna die from a thick tomato slice.” She sends you a glare as she grabs the cutting board and slides the tomatoes into the pan. “No, but you need to know how to do this stuff for when you get married. No one is gonna wanna marry a girl who can’t cook,” she responds with a tsk, mixing the vegetables in the pan so they become sautéed.

You don’t say anything, you just watch as she tastes a now translucent onion, checking the flavor. “Needs some garlic,” she mumbles, moving towards the cupboard to grab the seasoning. Talking about marriage and relationships with your mom was always awkward because she always found a way to push your buttons. “Speaking of marriage,” she says again, turning the stove off. Now she’s completely facing you, cleaning her hands on a kitchen towel as she continues, “what ever happened to that Matt boy you always used to hang out with?”

You groaned, she brought Matt up at least once a month. “I haven’t talked to Matt since high school, mom,” you reply, rolling your eyes at her inability to remember details you repeatedly told her. She nods her head almost like it’s the first time she’s hearing this as she whispers, “that’s a shame.” The last thing you want to talk about is an old friend who actually managed to leave this town behind, so you decide to wash the dishes in the sink to avoid any further conversation. Hopefully the sound of the running water would drown out your mom’s voice.

You let the hot water run over your hands as you reminisce over all your memories with Matt. There was homecoming, football games, prom night, nights at the bowling alley, sneaking into the theater for popcorn, and of course stargazing. A small smile adorns your face at the memories, you cherished those moments despite them feeling like forever ago.

“He would’ve been a good husband,” your mom says casually, dumping any remaining dirty dishes in the sink before walking out of the kitchen and into the living room.

She was right, he would’ve made a perfect husband.

—

“I’ll be back!” You call out to your mom as you tug your shoes on and grab your coat from the couch. November was always chilly, especially in a town like yours where there were no large buildings to block the wind. That wouldn’t stop you from sneaking up onto the old tower, instead it actually excited you. The rush of being so high up was the most exhilarating thing this town had to offer.

“Where are you going?” She calls back, peering her head into the living room from the kitchen. “I’m just gonna go hang out with a friend,” you comment, not wanting to admit your true destination. She always scolded you when you told her you were going to the water tower, claiming it was dangerous and reckless. “You better not be climbing that old tower,” she gave you a stern look before returning to her cooking.

You roll your eyes, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. If you weren’t allowed to do one dangerous and reckless thing, you’d go absolutely insane in this town. “Bye,” you finally say, dismissing yourself in a sing song tone as you walk out the front door.

The walk is short, the only hard part of your journey being the climb up the ladder. It creaks with every step, the rusty metal leaving your hands orange. Finally you arrive at the top, plopping your bag on the metal floor. You carefully take a seat, making yourself comfortable enough to begin people watching. Your legs swing back and forth as you look toward the ground, you were really high up.

People pass by, most of them by foot and you rest against the metal railing as you watch them. All these people were stuck doing mundane things like carrying their groceries home or walking to a friend’s house. So many familiar faces spark your creativity causing you to pull your sketchbook from your bag to begin drawing.

You see your brothers in the distance playing soccer on an old dirt road and you decide they’ll make the perfect warm-up sketch. So, you work diligently to replicate the figures in the distance, trying to capture their motions. The sketch is coming out good, but your pencil suddenly snaps, interrupting the flow you’d created. “Stupid cheap pencil,” you mumble to yourself, resting it in the crack of the sketch book that lays on your lap. You dig through your bag in search of a sharpener, finding it tucked between an old gum wrapper and a candy bar.

Just as you’re about to turn back to your sketchbook, the wind aggressively blows it off your lap. “No, no, no,” you yelp, trying to catch the book before it can slip away. One arm grabs a hold of the railing as the other reaches for the book that’s too far gone. You groan in annoyance, shoving the sharpener back into your bag and getting up slowly so you can make your way down and get your book.

“Ow! What the fuck?” someone exclaims from below, your book hitting them right on the head. ‘Great,’ you think, quickly slinging your bag over your shoulder and climbing down the stairs. Of course your book managed to hit one of the 200 people who populated this town. “I’m so sorry. I was drawing and then the stupid wind-“ you begin to apologize, climbing down the ladder as quickly as possible. You’re interrupted though, “Y/n?!” Everyone in your town knew everyone, who the hell was actually confused to see you?

“Yeah?” you reply, hopping off the ladder and turning towards the voice. Immediately your eyes go wide at the person in front of you. After 3 years of not seeing him, Matt stood right in front of you holding your sketchbook. He looked so much older than the last time you’d seen him. Small stubble scattered across his jaw, his arms adorned with tattoos, and he held a much more modernized look. “Matt?!” you ask in shock, rushing towards him excitedly. Seeing him after so long felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Oh my God! You look so different!” He exclaims, he’s equally as excited to see you. When you both were in high school you were inseparable. Sometimes you’d let your mind wander and dream about a life where the two of you were married, but that was then and this is now. “That’s what 3 years will do,” you chuckled, taking your sketchbook from him and putting it in your back. “Has it really been that long?” he asks, his eyes examining everything about you.

Since the last time he saw you, you’ve grown a little taller and your hair is much longer. You’ve got a woman-like essence about you that you didn’t have before, he’s sure that every guy in town is fighting for a chance with you. Last time he checked, you were the only girl worth looking at, let alone fighting for.

“Yes, dude! Where have you been?” you punch his arm playfully, earning a slight push from Matt. It felt like he never left, you two picked up exactly where you left off. “Chris, Nick, and I have been in L.A,” he responds, the two of you beginning to subconsciously walk away from the water tower. A gust of wind blows past you two causing you to pull your coat tightly around you.

“Aw, Chris and Nick! I haven’t seen them in so long,” you reply longingly, reminiscing briefly on all your memories with the other two. “Yeah we’re here visiting our parents for Thanksgiving. We should all hang out one day,” he says, the word ‘visiting’ leaving a bad taste in your mouth. It was a gentle reminder that they actually escaped this place and only came back as a favor to their parents while you were stuck here indefinitely.

“Yeah that could be fun,” you say halfheartedly. “Are you visiting too?” he asks, genuine curiosity leading him to push further into your personal life. You gulp, becoming scared to admit the truth to Matt. “Ugh no, not really,” you respond vaguely. “Oh, are you leaving soon?” he asks again, unable to stop himself from prying. He can’t help it, he hasn’t seen you in a long time and he’s curious. The two of you are now outside your house, the walk coming as second nature from all your walks home from school. “I never left,” you admit, an awkward cough following the sad statement.

Matt doesn’t know what to say, he finds it hard to believe that a girl like you never found her way out of this place. The only reason beautiful girls like you got stuck in this town was because of marriage, but Matt shook the thought from his head.

“It’s getting cold,” you say as you look back towards your house, breaking the silence that settled between you two. As excited as you were to see Matt, you needed to escape this awkward situation immediately. The wind was howling dramatically, shaking the surrounding trees and picking up the dirt from the roads. “Oh. Um, yeah. I’ll let you go. We’ll catch up another time, yeah?” he says sheepishly, feeling bad for embarrassing you. You hum in response, waving slightly at him before turning on your heel and hurriedly making your way inside.

“Was that Matt?” your mom asks enthusiastically as soon as you walk inside, leaning against the couch so she can get a better look out the window. Had she been watching the whole time? “Invite him inside!” she exclaims, not even giving you time to answer her previous question. “No, mom! He’s busy!” you lie, coming up with an excuse on the spot and watching from the window as Matt walks home.

“That boy is NOT busy. Marylou told me her boys were visiting,” she replies, rolling her eyes at your lame excuse of a lie. If she knew the triplets were in town, why did she ask if that was Matt? She clearly wanted to catch you flustered and annoyed. “Well he doesn’t want to come in,” you retort, shrugging your coat off and kicking your shoes off.

“You are never getting married, are you?” she asks sarcastically, giving you a blank look before disappearing into the kitchen.

—

Matt was home in a good 15 minutes, walking in to his house to find his brothers on the couch awaiting his arrival. “Did you bring it?” Chris asked, leaning against the backrest of the couch to look at Matt. Matt shrugs off his coat and kicks his shoes off, wondering what the hell Chris is on about. “Did I bring what?” Matt asks in confusion, walking over to the couch and sitting beside Chris.

Chris was now squished in between his two brothers, all three of them watching a random movie to pass the time. They had to resort to the old VCR their mom had because their phones didn’t get any service out in the country. Neither of them wanted to go through the hassle or rewinding the movies, so they were currently halfway through one without any context. It was hard to readjust to a slow paced lifestyle after being in L.A for so long and they couldn’t find anything to do. So, they sent Matt out in search of fireworks, but of course he got distracted along the way and came back empty handed.

“The fireworks, dumbass,” Nick chimes in, facepalming at Matt’s failure to complete the easiest task ever. “Oh, yeah, no. I couldn’t find any,” he lied, still thinking about his encounter with you. When your sketchbook fell on him, he flipped through a few pages and recognized so many of the people in the drawings. Some of the earlier pages were even filled with drawings of him and his brothers.

“Bullshit! We saw them yesterday at the corner store!” Chris shouts, getting up from the couch to go find the fireworks himself. “If I find even ONE firework, I’m beating your ass,” Chris says, pointing a menacing finger at Matt before slipping his shoes on and walking out the door, coat in hand. “Did you go to the right store?” Nick asks, watching mindlessly as the characters on screen converse. He has no idea what the plot of this movie even is.

“Well I tried, but I sort of got distracted,” Matt admits, shifting uncomfortable in the couch. He grabbed a pillow from beside him, hugging it closely to him. “How could you possibly get distracted? The store is 5 minutes from here!” Nick exclaims, looking suspiciously at his brother. Nick knew Matt was hiding something.

“I ran into an old friend,” Matt shrugged, sinking further into the couch and holding the pillow even closer to him. He knew that if he admitted to running into you, he’d never hear the end of it. He’d be bombarded with questions about you, how you’re doing, why he didn’t invite you over. Nick is looking at Matt expectantly, wanting him to spill the details on which ‘old friend’ he ran into, but Matt’s gaze is focused on the tv in front of him.

“Matt!” Nick says dramatically, pushing his brother by the shoulder to grab his attention. “Which friend?!” He finally asks once he’s successfully grabbed Matt’s attention. Matt debates whether or not he should just admit he ran into you, but before he can say anything he’s interrupted by Chris arriving from the store.

Throughout this entire conversation, Chris had managed to successfully find the fireworks and even ran into you on his way back home. You were reluctantly running an errand for your mom, but of course got distracted by Chris. He asked about you, inquiring about your personal life just like Matt had, and then insisted you come over. He said something along the lines of, “Nick and Matt would love to see you! Matt especially.” Chris was completely unaware of your encounter with Matt earlier that day, so in his mind this would be your first time seeing each other after years. So, as to not seem rude, you abandoned your errand and followed Chris to his house. He was carrying so many fireworks that he dropped a few along the way, but luckily you were there to pick them up.

“Guess who I brought?” Chris says dramatically in a sing-song tone, dropping all the fireworks at the front entrance. Nick and Matt look towards the front door, Matt’s mouth going agape slightly at the sight of you and Nick immediately jumping up from the couch. “Y/n?!” Nick exclaims, running over to you excitedly and embracing you in a hug. This was very uncommon for Nick, seeing as he wasn’t usually a hugger, but he hadn’t seen you in so long that he made an exception. “Hi Nick,” you greet awkwardly as he smothers you in his arms, hands still full of fireworks.

“Oh my God, girl. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long,” Nick let’s go of you, holding you by your arms so he can get a good look at you. He noticed all the same things as Matt and Chris, you looked like a woman. “Here,” you admit with a shrug, not embarrassed to admit it anymore. You’ve already gone through this round of questioning twice at this point with both Matt and Chris. “Oh,” he mumbles awkwardly, offering you an equally as awkward smile.

Matt was still watching in shock, what a coincidence that he ran into you earlier today and now you’re in his house. Well, in retrospect, the town is so small that you probably would’ve ended up here anyway. “How has life here been?” Nick asks again doing air quotes around ‘here’ before taking the fireworks from you and dumping them where Chris had dumped the rest. “It’s.. been” you laugh, rocking back and forth on your feet awkwardly.

Nick nods, deciding he’s had enough awkwardness for one day. “Wanna pop some fireworks with us?” he asks, hoping you’ll just say yes and break the awkward tension. You look between him and Matt, wondering if this was the right decision. Matt’s smiling at you, he wants you to say yes so bad. “Sure, why not,” you reply with a shrug, deciding this will be the most fun you’ve had in a while.

Chris appears from the kitchen, lighter in hand. He’s pretending to use it as flame thrower, waving it from side to side dramatically. “Get ready to burn!” He says evily, earning a laugh from the rest of you.

—

The fireworks left long sparks of color in the sky, the booming sound resonating throughout the entire town. It’s dark now and the wind has calmed down considerably, making it the perfect time for childish shenanigans. You and Matt were sat on a pair of lawn chairs, watching as Nick and Chris lit up firework after firework. They would light one, place it carefully on the ground, and then scurry away like excited children.

Matt is staring at the sky, mesmerized at the colorful sparks that flew by. The stars were faint, the light and smoke from the fireworks dulling their luminosity. You also watched the colorful explosions, but you held your fingers out in front of you to squish the stars. You created a game out of it, trying to squish the stars before the colorful sparks reached them.

Matt noticed this and chuckled slightly, reminiscing on the old habit you never seemed to let go. Upon hearing his laughter, you turn your attention to him quickly in confusion. “What?” you ask with a small pout. He smiles sincerely at you, examining your beautiful face as the colorful light from above decorated your face. The strobing lights seemed to only further accentuate your features.

In this moment Matt felt 18 again. He felt like he was seeing you for the first time and realizing he had a crush on you. “Nothing, you just always used to do that,” he replies sheepishly, pointing towards your hands briefly. It was a habit you never realized you had, you mostly did it to pass the time. You don’t say anything, but the silence isn’t awkward. You just smile at Matt before returning to your make-shift game, occupying your mind the only way you knew how.

You felt so comfortable right now. It felt like everything was the way it was supposed to be. It felt like old times, just you and your friends enjoying each other’s company. With each star you squish, you remember all your late nights under the stars with Matt. All the meaningful conversations and deep secrets you two exchanged, both of you becoming closer and closer each time. You always thought you’d end up following them and leaving this town, but life had other plans for you. Sometimes you even wondered what would’ve happened if you had confessed your feeling for Matt, would you two be married by now? It feels so wrong to think about, because you know that if you would’ve confessed he would’ve stayed and never fulfilled any of his dreams. He, like you, would’ve been stuck here.

Matt, on the other hand, can’t stop himself from smiling as he takes in more of your features. You looked so different, yet exactly the same. He still doesn’t understand why such a beautiful girl like you would stay in such a boring place like this. Of course he wondered if you were married, it was a common custom in your town for girls to get married young. Plus there was no a shortage of men waiting for the right moment to ask you on a date. Matt remembers it all too well, you’d always reject potential suitors in favor of spending time with him. He never understood why, but he always found himself feeling relieved when you did that. Maybe he internally wished you two would’ve started dating, but he never gained the courage to confess. He shook the thought of you being married out of his head, trying to focus on all the positive things tonight has to offer instead.

“Matt! Y/n! These are the last ones, come light one!” Chris calls out, waving the remaining fireworks in front of him, enticing you two to join in on the fun. The two of you are pulled from your thoughts, looking at Chris with smiles. Matt jumps up from his seat, jogging towards Chris and grabbing ahold of one of the fireworks. You get up a lot slower, taking in the moment in front of you. You really missed this.

“Girl! Hurry!” Nick rushes you, becoming impatient with your leisurely pace. You smile again, picking up the pace and grabbing a firework. “Ready?!” Chris asks excitedly, lighting everyone’s firework. You nod, excitement and adrenaline filling your body. As soon as he lights the fuse, you each place the fireworks carefully on the ground and run away in the opposite direction.

Lighting the fireworks was so much more exhilarating than just watching, your heart pumping rapidly as you try catching your breath. You’re standing next to Matt who wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, both of you looking up to watch the colorful explosion in the sky.

—

You don’t see the triplets again until a few days later, too busy helping your dad with the yard work to go anywhere. “Why can’t one of them help you?” You groan, looking at your brothers playing soccer in the field across the street. You always got stuck doing chores with your mom or dad while they got to have fun. “Can’t trust those guys to remember their own names, let alone help me,” your dad replies with a grunt, picking up two heavy buckets of water. You do the same, following behind him as he walks towards the pig enclosure.

It was so sunny today that you felt like you were melting. You were sweating underneath your overalls and the boots you were wearing were starting to rub against your ankles. “Fill that tank over there,” your dad instructs with a tilt of his chin, pointing in the direction he wanted you to go. You missed the tank as you tried pouring the water, some of it falling on the ground and creating mud. Your boots sank into the mud slightly causing you to groan in annoyance again. The pigs were oinking and squealing, almost like they were taunting you.

“Stupid fucking mud. Stupid dumbass pigs,” you grumbled, picking the other bucket up and dumping its remnants into the tank. “Language,” your dad warns sternly, only causing you to roll your eyes. He’s definitely said worse than fuck. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, adjusting your overalls in the process. “Are we almost done? It’s so hot,” you ask your dad, hoping he’ll have mercy on you and let you go inside. He doesn’t. “We still gotta shovel along the back to build that fence your mom asked for,” he informs you with no intention of letting you go early. You groan again, of course your mom wanted a fence. All you could do was prepare yourself for the long work day ahead.

Your arms feel like jelly, each pile of dirt you shovel sending you further into exhaustion. The sun was not letting up either, beaming brightly on the two of you. Your overalls were covered in dirt and your sweat mixed with the debris creating a gross mess all over your face and arms.

“You guys almost done?” Your mom asks as she walks over to you two. She’s holding a glass of water in each hand, working carefully not to spill any of it. The two of you stop digging and you’re silently thanking God for the small break. “We still have about 6 feet left that way and another 3 left this way,” your dad says, grabbing a glass of water and taking a few sips. Of course your side was missing the 6 feet, you were a much slower digger than your dad. You down the whole drink in one go, finally quenching your thirst after a hard days work.

“Well do you guys think you could wrap it up? We’ve got a visitor,” she says casually, taking the glasses back as she makes her way inside again. She was not going to stand in the hot sun for a second longer than necessary. ‘Visitor?!?’ you think, as you look down at your dirty overalls and muddy boots. If that’s how dirty your clothes were, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how dirty you were. “We’ll finish up tomorrow after breakfast, shouldn’t take us more than an hour,” your dad says, slapping your back as he follows behind your mom.

You jog behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of the visitors through the window. You can’t see anyone yet, so you just decide it’s probably one of your mom’s friends. If they saw you this messy it wouldn’t even matter. Both of you make your way inside, stomping the mud off on the grass before walking in.

“Y/n! Say hello to your friend, don’t be rude,” your mom immediately says once you walk in, referring to people waiting in the living room. Your mom considered everyone your friend, so you still weren’t too worried. “I’m going,” you call back, slowly walking over to the living room just in case it was someone you didn’t really know. If it was someone you didn’t know, you’d be able to excuse yourself with the excuse that you’re dirty or tired.

“Hi,” you greet plainly, peeking your head into the living room and waving at the unexpected company. “Hi,” Matt greets awkwardly, taking in your dirty appearance. You freeze at the sight of him, why didn’t your mom mention HE was the visitor? That was literally one of, if not the, most important detail of this story. “Excuse her, she’s been helping me out in the yard,” your dad chimes in, wiping his hands on an old kitchen towel before reaching a hand out towards Matt. “It’s nice to see you again, son,” your dad says, taking Matt’s hand into a firm handshake.

“It’s nice to see you too, sir,” Matt responds, getting up from the couch to properly greet your dad. He felt like he was your boyfriend, meeting your disapproving father for the first time. Your dad nods and exits the room, not interested in conversation. All he wanted was a cold shower and honestly that’s all you wanted too.

“I can come back another time?” Matt suggests, realizing he came unannounced and seemingly at a bad time “Nonsense! Y/n’s got time to chat, don’t you sweetheart?” Your mom interjects, listening to the whole interaction from the kitchen. She was whipping up a snack for you two in hopes that Matt would stay longer. She really liked Matt.

“Uh yeah, I got time,” you answered, too embarrassed to admit that you wanted him to leave so you could shower. “I can wait. If you wanna go get changed?” he says, sitting back down on the couch. You want to get on your knees and praise this man for being so considerate, but instead you give him a thumbs up and run to shower and change.

—

After freshening up you return to the living room where Matt is now talking with your mom. She made him a grilled cheese and cut up some strawberries for him, she even sprinkled sugar on them to make them extra sweet. They’re deep in conversation so you wait by the door to listen. “So, Matt, when are you planning to ask my daughter out?” your mom asks casually, unaware of the weight of her words. This sentence alone almost made you enter the room dancing just to have an excuse to shut her up.

“I’m sorry?” he asks, gulping nervously. “You heard me,” she replies, plopping a strawberry in her mouth and looking at him expectantly. “Oh- I- I thought y/n was married?” He says, unsure of what he’s even saying. Matt feels so awkward, he just takes another bite of the greasy cheese toast on his plate to give him an excuse not to talk.

When your mom hears this she laughs loudly, clearly amused with Matt’s assumption, “I wish!” Matt’s caught a little off guard by this comment, were you not married? Or at least spoken for? You wanted to slap your hand over your mom’s mouth before she said anything too embarrassing, but you decide to see where this conversation is going. You lean against the wall, getting comfortable for the eavesdropping you were about to do.

“I’ve been trying to get that girl to date, but no luck,” your mom continues, putting a smile on Matt’s face. He was both happy and relieved to hear that you weren’t taken. “She used to have a little crush on you in high school. And I’ve seen the way you look at her,” your mom won’t stop talking, she just keeps spilling your secrets. This is the first time Matt’s hearing of this, had you really liked him this whole time?

You decide you’ve heard enough, en entering the room with an awkward cough. “Thanks mom,” you say sarcastically, offering her a tight lipped smile. You look at Matt, trying to read his expression while also signaling to him that you want to leave. He gets the hint, dismissing himself politely from your mom. As the two of you are walking out you send a glare towards your mom and she returns it with a toothy smile and a wink.

“Sorry about that,” you chuckle awkwardly, shutting the door behind you. “No, I like your mom,” he replies, beginning to walk down the dirt road. “I know, but she can be a lot,” you apologize, becoming worried that she over shared and maybe scared Matt. “I can handle a lot,” he shrugs, the two of you now walking towards the old water tower. You smile at him, grateful that he’s not making it awkward. Your mom just confessed your crush to him like an old school girl and here he was being a gentleman about it.

When you two arrive to the water tower he signals for you to climb up first, holding your back securely until you’re high enough, then he follows behind you. You arrive at the top, sitting down carefully and patting the spot next to you so Matt will join. He gladly sits next to you, looking over the vast land in front of you. Miles and miles of green grass, crop fields, and only a few buildings and houses scattered in between.

The both of you talk about everything you’ve missed out on for the past 3 years, his stories being about his adventures in L.A and yours being about your life here. “I haven’t been up here in a long time,” he whispers in awe, taking in the scene in front of him as the sun begins to set. He had to admit that this was a beautiful town, despite it being so boring. “Well, you haven’t been here for a long time,” you reply, leaning against the metal railing as you join him in admiring the view.

“I was really surprised to see you that day. I thought I’d never see you again,” Matt says. After he and his brothers left they had zero contact with you and it always felt like a part of him was missing. “Yeah, it was nice catching up with you guys,” you reply, feeling like these past few days were the best you’ve had in a while. When they leave, you’ll just go back to your normal mundane life.

He can sense the sadness in your tone, feeling bad for leaving you here. “I’m glad you got out,” you admitted, resting your face on the arm that laid on the railing so you could look at Matt. “This town kills everyone’s dreams, I’m glad it didn’t kill yours,” you continued, offering Matt a small, genuine smile. If he was honest, he’d be happy staying here forever as long as it was with you.

“I don’t know. There’s one dream of mine that didn’t come true when I left,” he trails off, watching the as the sun disappears along the horizon. The sky goes from orange to purple as Matt feels the sudden urge to tell you something he’s been holding onto for a long time. “I doubt that,” you chuckle, looking up slightly to see the stars slowly come into view.

He laughs too, unsure if he should be admitting any of this to you right now. “I used to have a big crush on you too,” he admits quietly and casually, looking up at the stars too. Your neck almost snaps off as you turn to look at him, he notices this and laughs again. “It was back in high school… Getting a date with you, even just a kiss, was one of my biggest dreams,” he admits, remembering all those nights when he almost told you. “When your mom mentioned you used to have a crush on me it made me think of how different our lives would’ve been. If we ever acted on it, you know?” he continues, looking at you now.

You had a small, sad smile on your face because you weren’t sure if there was still a possibility at a future with Matt, but you were willing to try. “I mean, we can make the dream come true. If that’s okay?” you ask, leaning into him slowly.

“That could be fun,” he whispers, quoting what you told him that one night under the stars. He leans in and captures your lips in his, his last dream finally coming true.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Boop another Matt story for the girlies.

Thank you anon for the nice compliment 🩷🩷 I hope you enjoy this Matt story and that it was everything you hoped for haha.

This took me so long to write idk why. Anywaysss I mentioned im writing a Nick story WELL IM PROBS SCRAPPING IT AND STARTING OVER. I find it so easy to write Nick in my other fics but for some reason when he’s the main “character” i struggleeee.

Okay I’m done now, enjoy reading. k byeeee

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

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shxtodxroki · 11 months ago

Text

𝙽𝚘𝚝-𝚂𝚘-𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊

Summary: Your past friendship with Satoru Gojo is ancient history by the time you’re both well into your teaching years, the man a mere memory from your past you can’t help but reminisce on more often than you should. But when Christmas-time rolls around and you get roped into a faculty Secret Santa event alongside your sister school, your not-so-secret Santa causes old, unresolved feelings to resurface, and gives you a chance to finally rehash and truly release them.

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, this fic was written as a gift so it’s a fem reader instead of my usual gender neutral reader! There’s also a few small descriptive details of the reader’s personality/likes since it’s targeted towards the person I wrote it for, but there are NO physical descriptions of the reader! Geto, Nanami and Haibara are also all teachers in this! (Nanami and Geto work w/ Gojo in Tokyo, while Haibara works w/ reader and Utahime in Kyoto!)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Note: This fic is a gift that I wrote for @planetnini for this JJK secret santa event! :D Hi Nini, I was your secret santa! :D I had a lot of fun getting to know you and chatting with you through asks throughout this event, and I hope you like the final fic I made for you! I tried to take into account some of the things you told me and personalize it a bit, and I’d love to know what you think! <3 Happy holidays Nini and anyone else reading this, if you celebrate any holidays around this time of year then I hope you had a wonderful time, and even if not, I hope you’re having an amazing end of the year! :D

The scent of the town-famous bakery always managed to fill you with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia, memories flooding your senses as flashes of bright blue eyes and teasing grins flashed behind your eyelids in response to the familiar scent. It makes your stomach twist in mild discomfort, pushing the fond childhood memories that spring up back into the crevices of your mind where they belong as you feel a small, long-residing pang of longing.

He had always loved sweets.

Being friends with Satoru Gojo, the honored one who took Jujutsu society by storm from the very moment he was born, was an experience you reflected back on far more often than you’d ever admit out loud. Considering how long it had been since the two of you last had any significant contact, it would seem odd to admit just how often your mind still wandered to him, to the many soft moments and bright memories you shared in adolescence, and to the one true best friendship you had ever known. People have come and gone through your life in waves since then, and you’ve had dear friends who meant the world to you, but nobody could ever come close to the role Satoru had once filled, the way he made your heart feel so full of affection and love that it just might burst. It was the kind of friendship you felt you would only find once in a lifetime, and thus the kind you could never forget. Maybe it wouldn’t sound that ludicrous after all, but you still kept this longing to yourself, and most days, you managed to dull it to a gentle simmer beneath your ribcage as you went about your days.

You have other things to focus on now. A job and your loved ones and the upkeep of your home, all essential parts of your daily life that keep you from lamenting on the mere wisps of memory of the boy you knew. Knowing that he wasn’t far away, living a life far busier than your own but in the same profession at your sister school, did come with the occasional urge to reach out, to reminisce or catch up or ask why your whole friendship had fallen apart in the first place. But you’ve always managed to resist the urge, to fight back the desire to reach out and pry yourself away from the open yet long-ago unfollowed Instagram page on your phone (though not always without help, you had to thank Utahime for keeping you from your nostalgic urges every now and then).

So with all the work you had put into moving on from a friendship you honestly should have long ago, you would admit (at least to yourself) that you were less than excited to find out that you’d be participating in a winter retreat with the sister school where Satoru now taught at. You were even less eager when it was revealed that there would be a staff-wide Secret Santa event between the two schools, and as the days counted down towards the trip, you found yourself wishing that the universe would cut you a break just this once and give you anyone else besides Satoru to buy a gift for. You knew so little about the person he was currently, now that so much time had passed between the two of you, and truthfully, you had no clue if he even remembered who you were at this point. The sting of realizing that he didn’t remember you was a pain you truly didn’t long to feel, and having to get a gift for your former best friend under such uncertain conditions was simply a fate you wished to avoid at all costs.

“Quit glaring, you’re drawing attention to you, and me by proxy.” You mutter to your best friend as she glares daggers into the back of the man you wished to avoid. Luckily for you, the interaction was anything but uncommon for the two, so it was unlikely to truly draw attention to either of you. Yet it still wasn’t a risk you wanted to take, not wanting to face even the slightest possibility of being forced to suffer through awkward small talk with the man who had once known all your deepest secrets.

“How did that idiot manage to become a teacher? His students would be better off with a fucking rock as an instructor, I swear to god.” Utahime grumbles back from beside you, paying no mind to your words as she continues glaring at the man from afar. Her disdain for the man was amplified when you told her of your shared past, but she had held a strong dislike for him from the moment the two had first interacted at school functions, leaving you hopeful that he wouldn’t be phased from the typical distant hostility and annoyance he received from your best friend. These days, Satoru Gojo rarely managed to spare you as much as a glance, and it had been years since he had uttered your name (a fact you were ashamed to admit you had been keeping track of, in the brief and meager conversations the two of you had shared over recent years). The feeling of being forgotten stung deep in your bones, but you outwardly portrayed the same level of unbotheredness and nonchalance he did whenever the two of you would be put in the position to briefly interact, so most of your colleagues (including Satoru himself) were hopefully none the wiser to your inner predicament.

“Alright, everyone come draw a name! And there’s no switching or re-draws unless you pick yourself!” You suddenly hear Suguru Geto’s voice echo through the room, sounding controlled and put-together as always as he drew you from your reverie and back into reality once more. It didn’t take long for the air to grow stuffy as all of the evening’s attendees crowded together around the bag of names, the small crowd still managing to tightly press together as everyone crowded in to select their recipients for this year’s secret santa event.

Some were more eager than others, but the process was still able to remain somewhat orderly as everyone pressed together and took turns grabbing a folded up paper from the bag. The rotation went counter-clockwise, and you watched as your coworkers and fellow faculty went one-by-one until the line reached Utahime to your left. As she plucked a name from the bag, you blurted out a quip that wasn’t meant to particularly be hidden, but one which you really only intended for her ears as a small grin made its way across your face.

“Thank god Gakuganji’s off on business this year, imagine what a nightmare it would be to buy a gift for him.” You laugh at your own comment, watching your best friend’s face light up in acknowledgment of the joke before opening the slip of paper in her hand. The voice you hear responding to you, though, is much lower than that of your friend’s, and the sight of her mouth not moving causes your stomach to drop as you suddenly grow aware of the presence to your right.

“God, I think getting a gift from that geezer would be worse. He’d bring five dollar socks and expect ‘utmost gratitude’.” His voice felt like honey coating your ears, deep and smooth as the scent of his cologne suddenly engulfed your surroundings. You couldn’t believe you had let his presence slip out of your awareness, that you had been oblivious to him standing right beside you even if only for a few moments. You were so used to being tuned into his movements during gatherings like these, doing your best to avoid him whenever possible and to maneuver your way subtly through awkward small talk on the occasions where avoidance wasn’t possible. And yet here he was, appearing beside you without a shred of awareness on your part. And he was joking with you causally, as if the history between you meant nothing to him at all.

He may not remember your history at all at this point.

You could feel heat rising to your face at the thought, the painful stab of acknowledging that you may not have meant as much to him as he did to you causing your form to grow rigid where you stood. You knew you shouldn’t still be so affected by him, so in tune to everything he did and so easily reactive whenever he was near. His quick remark to you showed that he held no similar reservations when interacting with you, and it had been plenty of time to let go of the torch you had been carrying. But you were the one who left the friendship with unresolved feelings you never got the chance to express to him, with an attachment deeper than just friendship. And he obviously wasn’t, which was clearly why he had managed to move on so much faster than you had.

You were thankful as you realized it was your turn to pull from the bag, eager for a distraction so you wouldn’t have to think of a response to Satoru’s remark. You needed to calm down, and hopefully you could occupy yourself with thinking of potential gifts for your recipient through the rest of the night rather than putting so much energy into a man who wouldn’t reciprocate. Your hand plunged in and out of the bag in a flash, just desperate for any name that wasn’t Satoru’s, and you let out a soft sigh of relief as you read the name inscribed on the paper in your hand.

“Yu Haibara”.

Thank god, fate seemed to be on your side this time. Not only did you not pull Satoru’s name, but you were close enough with Haibara, as you saw one another nearly every day, to comfortably pick out a gift you knew he’d enjoy even without the list provided to you. He was easily one of those you were closest to among the participants, second only to Utahime, and despite the melancholy that had been simmering within you throughout the evening as thoughts of Satoru filled your mind, you felt a sudden wave of confidence and excitement as you thought of what you could get him that you knew he’d love. Perhaps this was what you needed, to stop focusing so much on a long-dead friendship by instead putting that energy into pursuing closer friendships with those you cared about now. This was going to be the Christmas to turn around your attitude, you were sure of it.

And in the self-improvement spiral you sent yourself down in that moment, for once you missed the small, almost imperceptible yet genuine smile that crossed Satoru’s face as he pulled a name of his own from the bag.

The next morning, as you woke up and stepped out of your hotel room for the morning after dragging yourself out of bed at the sound of your alarm, you found yourself nearly falling face-first into the floor as you tripped on an unfortunately-placed object directly outside your doorway. The fall caused you to let out a shriek as you braced for impact, and though you were luckily able to catch yourself before you crashed, the event still left a small, tired scowl on your face as you pulled yourself up and took a glance at the item that had nearly left you bruised and sore first thing in the morning.

The sight in front of you, however, quickly melted your annoyance into curiosity as you saw a soft, pale yellow bag obstructing the walkway outside of your hotel door. Your mind was racing for a few moments as it tried to catch up with the morning’s events, and when you were eventually able to recall the secret santa exchange that you had signed up for the night prior, you felt a small giddiness bubbling within you as you grabbed the small bag by it’s handles and returned with it in hand to your room. Perhaps you could forgive whoever had left the bag in prime tripping position, as the excitement of receiving your first gift of the week outweighed any prior frustrations you held.

You opened the bag expecting a small gift to start off the exchange, maybe flowers or a nice snack. Your secret santa had only had hours between the choosing of the names and this morning, after all, and you would perfectly understand choosing to go light on most of the gifts even without the rushed nature of this first morning. So when you stripped the bag of its tissue paper only to be faced with a brand-new copy of a new game you had mentioned in your list of potential gifts, you couldn’t fight back the widening of your eyes in surprise. A brand new game surely wasn’t cheap, and to get it at such short notice felt like nothing short of a miracle. (Or incredible effort on your Secret Santa’s part). Taped onto the game was a note, short and simple:

“You’ve seemed extra stressed the past few days, so why don’t you take the day off and relax? Kick your feet up and have fun playing your new game ;)

- Secret Santa”

The note gave little away of the one who had left the gift, yet their kindness and effort was clear in both presentation and product as you grinned to yourself. Fate truly did seem to be on your side this holiday season, as you had seemingly been blessed with the loveliest secret santa in all existence. While the gift was much more than you had expected, and you had barely even gotten a chance to wake up that morning, you were quick to shoot a text over to Utahime telling her to come over to your room to share your excitement with someone. Though you unfortunately couldn’t play the game yet as your secret santa had advised, since you hadn’t brought your console with you on the trip to Tokyo, you still wanted to enjoy the gift in some way as you silently sent your gratitude towards your mystery gift-giver. You’d have to thank them when they finally revealed themself on Christmas eve, but for now you’d wait for your best friend to arrive so you could brag about your exceptionally generous secret santa and the gift you couldn’t wait to try out once you returned to your cozy home in Kyoto at the end of the week.

On the second day, you thankfully did not wake up to a tripping hazard outside of your door, leading you to assume your secret santa would drop off your gift later in the day. Honestly you were thankful that it wasn’t left first thing in the morning like the day prior, as you had accidentally overslept after staying out a bit later than usual picking out a gift and writing a fun note for Haibara for day one of your secret santa exchange.

You had offered to chaperone a sightseeing day around Tokyo for the students (one the Tokyo students would also be attending, though more on the basis of shopping than sightseeing) alongside Utahime and two Tokyo instructors, and after sleeping through your alarm, you were already short on time as you scrambled to get ready and meet your students on time. Having a gift to open would have only added to your hassle, and now you could look forward to receiving one at the end of the day instead as you rushed to the meeting spot, just barely making it in time.

Utahime and all of your students were already waiting, and you watched as your best friend’s face drew into a small smile as she saw you approaching. Your eyes quickly caught sight of Satoru and Suguru standing beside her, seemingly the volunteers to chaperone the Tokyo students for the day, but you were determined to stick to your new outlook of no longer fixating on Satoru, so you forced yourself to brush past his presence even as he mocked and teased your best friend beside you. The four of you set out with the students in tow, allowing Suguru to lead the way as a Tokyo native (and out of a lack of trust in Satoru’s navigational skills), and you did your best to stop your mind from drifting to thoughts of Satoru as you tried to keep your students engaged and having fun, while also taking some time to chat with Utahime and scan the area for potential gifts for Haibara.

You made many stops throughout the day as you passed through various shopping districts and interesting stores, and it brought a smile to your face to watch your students interact and have fun with one another as well as their sister school peers as they spent the day shopping and chatting altogether. The poor kids were faced with the monstrosities of the Jujutsu world on a daily basis at such a young age, and it warmed your heart to at least be able to give them the chance to simply have fun and act like teenagers every once in a while. For today they weren’t Jujutsu sorcerers in training, they were just kids hanging out with their friends, and the thought made you smile as you, Utahime and Suguru hung back and watched the kids do their shopping and sightseeing (as Gojo had turned his attention from Utahime to Megumi Fushiguro for the time being, much to the young boy’s chagrin.

The day was long and covered quite a bit of land, taking you all through the streets of Tokyo as you reminisced on your youth and saw places you hadn’t visited in years, since leaving Tokyo for Kyoto to become a Jujutsu instructor and get away from your (admittedly not that dramatic) past. Sure, the nostalgia of it all did bring memories of your childhood with Satoru to the front of your mind on occasion as you passed a shop that the two of you used to always visit with your allowance money, or a favorite restaurant you would visit together on special occasions.

But you managed to keep your focus on the students and enjoying the night out rather than letting yourself drown in the memories, and you were proud to say you even managed to be friendly and courteous to Suguru despite your usual awkwardness around your former other half’s new best friend. You were so focused, in fact, that you failed to notice when Satoru’s watchful eyes fell on you and refused to leave as he saw you interacting with his best friend with ease, or the way his expression faltered into an unreadable look at the sight.

As the sun begins to set, and all the adults begin to discuss plans to turn in for the evening, you catch a brief whiff of a scent that sends you hurdling back into your adolescence full-force, your common sense momentarily leaving you as you step out of the ongoing conversation and quickly make your way to a place which was once your sanctuary, your home away from home in your younger years.

Your favorite bakery, a small, family-owned shop whose delectable treats you hadn’t tasted in years was still standing in the same spot it always had been, and the scent of the pastry that had been your favorite since childhood made its way to you as your eyes widened at the sight. You were so caught up in trying to keep yourself from drooling at the delicious scent that you failed to hear your colleagues approaching behind you, nor the way Satoru’s eyes were trained on you once again with the slightest hint of guilt reflecting in them.

“Mmmm, looks yummy.” Utahime praises as her eye lands on the pastry you had been staring down, the two men beside her nodding in agreement. You allowed yourself another moment to stare at the delicacy inside of the shop before turning to face your comrades, though you felt your stomach do a small flip as you finally registered the way Satoru’s gaze seemed stuck on you, and the unreadable look on his face.

“Yeah…. Sorry guys, I just got a bit distracted. We should be heading back to the hotel.” You mumbled out your apology as you returned to your spot beside Utahime, trying to ignore the way thoughts of Satoru once again flooded your mind as you tried to make sense of his strange expression, or the unusual silence he was now emitting.

But there was no way that bakery brought back the same feelings for him that it did for you, and you weren’t even sure if he remembered the time the two of you spent there so long ago at all. You were sure he had long-forgotten your love of that specific pastry as the years had passed, or the way he used to always steal a bite from you whenever you bought one for yourself. Those days had long passed, and you forced yourself to shake off his sudden change in attitude and assume it was a coincidence as the four of you saw all of your students to their sleeping quarters for the evening, before parting ways to get ready for bed yourselves.

Though you were a bit sad to see the sight of an empty doorway as you made your way back to your hotel room alone that evening, you felt your heart rate pick up a bit a your mood turned to something more hopeful when you heard a quick knocking on your door as you finished up your skincare routine for the evening. Of course, your elusive secret santa was gone by the time you opened the door, but the scent that practically smacked you in the face as you reached for another pale yellow bag suddenly had your stomach twisting and turning once more as you felt your suspicions begin to raise.

And as you suspected, inside of the bag you were met with the same pastry you had just been admiring less than an hour prior, the sight making you a bit less happy than it usually would despite your gratitude for the gift as you began to realize that your secret santa had to be one of the other three people you had spent the day with. And despite your hopes that things weren’t as they seemed, the note taped to the side of the bag only caused your heart to sink further as it practically spelled it out for you, so early into the week of secret santa exchanges.

“These have always been your favorite, and now you have a whole batch all to yourself, so you don’t have to share. Though, I wouldn’t mind if you’d be kind enough to slip me a piece ;)

- Secret Santa”

You spend most of the third day - another free day, thankfully - relaxing and trying to distract yourself watching all of your favorite movies and TV shows, doing practically anything to try and keep your mind away from your discovery last night. You did end up eating the pastry that you had received the night prior (at first the thought made you shiver, as the treat felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds with the loaded memories packed within, but the temptation had eventually been too strong to resist as it’s sweet scent bombarded your senses) but you were making it a point to stay in your room for the day unless one of your students needed you, determined to avoid Satoru as you ignored your emotions rather than attempt to process them.

The note he had left the night prior seemed to indicate that the self-depricating idea that you had clung onto for so many years of him forgetting your friendship was in fact false, and the thought alone had your head swimming with conflict and served to bring up more heartbreak than the reality you had created for the state of your relationship with him over the past ten years.

If he had forgotten about you, drifted off to other friends and bigger responsibilities until your bond faded from his mind, it would at least be a pain you were used to. A pain you had desensitized yourself to through the years of pining and pondering of a friendship long lost within the seas of time. But the thought that he may still remember it all, could still recall the afternoons spent together and the secrets shared, seemed to hurt much deeper. Because that meant he had chosen something else over those memories, that they seemingly hadn’t meant as much to him even with the images still fresh in his mind.

It was a painful stab to the gut you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge, so you were content to play the fool for now as you distracted and tried to deceive yourself.

When another swift knock sounded out from the end of your room, late in the evening once more (just after you had returned from your brief venture out of your room to deliver Haibara’s gift for the day), you were truthfully hesitant to open the door at all. You were currently clinging on to plausible deniability that the note from yesterday may have somehow been a coincidence, that Satoru may not be your secret santa after all. But given how willing he was to completely give himself away as early as day 2, you had a feeling that you wouldn’t be able to live in denial for much longer once you saw what your secret santa had left for the third day.

Nonetheless, you eventually worked up the courage to rise to your feet and slowly make your way to the door, staring down the baby-blue bag standing in front of you as if it were a weapon of mass destruction. A few minutes of deep breaths and self affirmations later and you were slowly, carefully removing the tissue paper from the small bag, only to be faced with a sight that instantly caused your eyes to sting with fresh tears.

A mint green DSI, and a small collection of games. An artifact you thought you had lost long ago, likely forgotten amongst some move between houses.

You barely even noticed the tears falling down your cheeks or the way your heart seized in your chest as you reached for the note, hand over your mouth in both awe and devastation as you read the inscribed words.

“Sorry this one isn’t new, I wouldn’t mind spending thousands on you but I thought you’d prefer this. You left it behind, and I haven’t quite found the time to return it yet. Figured you’d enjoy ;)

- Secret Santa”

This was a confirmation of every thought that had been spinning within your head over the past 24 hours, and as you held one of your favorite childhood toys in your hands for the first time in over a decade, you felt more conflicted than ever on how to handle your relationship with Satoru, or what your feelings for the man were at all any more.

The following days went by in a similar rhythm, though the gifts thankfully became simpler and less nostalgic as time went on. (You weren’t sure if you could handle another late-night crying session as the result of any particularly thoughtful gifts).

Day four had left you with some typical teaching supplies, as Satoru had heard you complaining about the lack of traditional lesson plans within the Jujutsu education system and your desire to teach your students at least some of the things they’d learn in a typical Japanese high school environment over a faculty-wide dinner.

Day five, he had gifted you with some skincare products he noticed were running low after showing up unexpectedly at your hotel room in the middle of the day, pleading with you to let him use your bathroom since he had forgotten his room key inside and Suguru was asleep. The two of you hadn’t spoken much, as he was quickly in and out of your room, but he breathed out a silent sigh of relief once he was securely outside your door as he thanked the universe that you hadn’t thought too deeply into his excuse. It would look pretty ridiculous of him to be insistent on the chance to see you for a moment if you had realized that he didn’t need to stay in a hotel in the city he lived in, after all.

Day six had been the most difficult for you to process since the emotional roller coaster of the third day, and it had been the catalyst for you to finally cave and explain to Utahime what you had discovered about your not-so-secret santa, and what he had done since your revelation. You had done your best to keep her out of it, as you knew she wasn’t particularly fond of Satoru on his best of days and had listened to many of your previous venting sessions about your forgotten friendship with Satoru prior to this exchange. But when you saw what awaited you in your bag on the second to last day of the exchange, and the note that accompanied the gift, you threw your efforts out the window as you finally sought advice from your best friend.

In the bag you were greeted with a complete collection of the Haikyuu manga and a small collection of high-quality lip balms (a collection you had been growing well before you lost touch with Satoru), along with a note much lengthier than the others.

“I don’t know if you’re still all that into this series, but I know how much you loved it when we were younger. Figured this would be better than that body pillow I always threatened to buy you, hopefully you’ll read through them and get to ‘experience the story all over again’ or whatever it is you nerds say.

The lip balms I remember you loving for some reason, but I’m hoping tomorrow I’ll give you a reason to use them. We’re supposed to reveal ourselves anyways, and I’ve got some things I’d like to say. So if you’re willing to listen to an idiot like me blab on about feelings and shit for a while, meet me at our favorite bakery tomorrow night at 7.

- Secret Santa”

You knew that you’d have to face him at some point, as you did eventually have to reveal yourself to your secret santa and exchange a final gift to one another. Yet you were unsure if you should go to this meeting or not, if you were ready to face Satoru’s feelings and demand the explanation you deserved for what had happened so long ago, especially in a place that held such sentimentality to each of you.

You had expected Utahime to talk you out of it, almost hoping she would as you went to here and finally explained to her what had been going on throughout this secret santa exchange. Truth be told, you were terrified at the thought of all your feelings for Satoru possibly being laid out in the open, and were hoping she would give you an excuse to bail.

Unfortunately, she did the exact opposite of what you had hoped, and encouraged you to meet with him in the hopes that you’d finally find some sort of resolution for the feelings you had been carrying in your soul for so long, and that they’d finally either be laid to rest or be given a chance to flourish into something much better for you. Curse her and her rationality, and the way she always had your best interests at heart.

It took nearly a full minute of standing outside the small bakery, your heartbeat ringing through your ears like timpanis ringing through your bones, for you to work up the courage to open the door and step inside, pulling off your winter attire as you glanced at the cozy Christmas eve decorations lining the walls. The bakery was quiet on such a late hour the day before a holiday, and it was easy to spot Satoru (early for once, a fact that made your heart flutter the slightest bit in your chest) at a cozy table in the corner, the same table the two of you frequented throughout your pre-teen years. He didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, overjoyed that you had actually shown up as he waved you over to your table. His greeting, however, was incredibly lacklustre compared to the week-long build up of tension and emotions between the two of you as an effortless grin spread across his lips.

“Hey.” Was the only word that fell from his lips as you sat down across from him in the booth, the same careless attitude that had always emanate from Satoru’s very being coming off of him now. But this time you refused to play along, refused to ignore the way he had tugged on your heart strings all week long and make casual, meaningless conversation the way you always did.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, Satoru. You know why I’m here.” You start, face fixed in a stern expression as you fought hard not to let your anxiety peek through onto your features. “Obviously I know you’re my secret santa, but I think we have bigger things to talk about here. Specifically, the way our friendship fell apart.”

Satoru wasn’t surprised in the slightest by the way you jumped straight into the heart of the conversation, he had seen the tension building on your face all week long as you received gift after gift from him. Hell, his own feelings had been much more difficult to contain than usual, with his desire to be close to you, to have you back in his life once more growing by the day. But Satoru was nothing if not unable to admit his emotions seriously, so his relaxed grin remained as he did his best not to let his heart get the best of it.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I did say I had things I needed to tell you.” He ponders gently, taking a bite of a sugary cream puff laid on the plate in front of him before meeting your gaze with his aqua eyes. “Look, I was an asshole teen, and everything that happened was on me. None of it had anything to do with you.”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked, completely amazed that the Satoru Gojo who had never apologized once as a child was currently admitting complete fault. You were stunned into silence at his words, though your face suddenly showed a layer of openness to his explanation as he continued on.

“When we got to high school I got so wrapped up in making new friends and advancing my technique and all that shit. Honestly, I was a total jerk back then, I dunno if you’d have wanted to hang around me anyways.” He laughs at the remark, but you could tell that this was the real Satoru, briefly peeking through his walls that seemed to melt so easily whenever he was around you. “Plus I had always kinda liked you, but it never really seemed like you felt that way about me. So I used my new friends and my status as a way to not have to talk to you, I was just hoping that it would give me a chance to get over whatever weird crush I had because it would just be pathetic for you to find out about it. But then it went on for longer than I realized, and by the time I figured out how much we had drifted, my pride wouldn’t let me admit why I stopped hanging out with you in the first place. Dumb, I know, but that’s really all it was.”

Satoru seemed so casual throughout his entire explanation, as if he was simply recounting his work day rather than delving into the intricacies of his thoughts and feelings and the reasons why your friendship had fallen apart. And his reasons were stupid, a part of you loathed the way younger Satoru had been so stubborn in refusing to communicate his feelings that he split the two of you apart as a result. Yet another part of you felt so incredibly thankful that the split hadn’t been because of something you did, or because he had stopped caring. It was the most idiotic behavior you had ever heard of, yet you were quick to find it in your heart to forgive him when you heard the next words that fell from his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, though it was clear enough for you to hear amongst the white noise of the bakery as he tried to hide the bashful look on his face at his words. It wasn’t often that Satoru Gojo apologized, and in fact it was a sight you had never seen from the man in all your time together, and it took everything in you not to interrupt him with words of forgiveness as he continued on. “I considered doing something lame, like pulling a “your gift is me” or some shit, but I got you a real gift instead. I’m just gonna say that I know for a fact that I loved you back then, and I’m pretty sure I do now. So take this gift, and I’m just the bonus, if you’re willing to take it.”

You were practically on autopilot as you took the final gift of the week straight from Satoru’s hands, no longer hidden beneath any bags or bows as your entire body felt as if it were on fire from within. You were completely unable to muster words at the moment as you took in everything you had just heard, trying to fit what he had said into the puzzle pieces of your own emotions as you glanced at the two tickets Satoru had given you, tickets to a concert for your favorite artist.

“Hopefully you’ll let me go with you, but if you decide to kick my ass to the curb and never speak to me again, then you can at least bring a friend.” He told you as he carefully watched your reaction to your final gift, though Satoru was unable to fully hide the way panic spread throughout his entire body like a plague when he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks in waves. Before he could get another word in or even ask you what was going on, though, your eyes met his once more as your voice wavered with emotion.

“You are a complete idiot, Satoru. I spent years missing you and breaking my own heart thinking that you had just forgotten about me completely, that you didn’t remember out friendship at all. I thought my feelings would just be stuffed down and elft unsaid forever.” You chide him as your tears pour out, though the way your hand sets the tickets on the table before reaching out for his indicates that you have more yet to say.

“You’re just lucky that those feelings hadn’t been stuffed down into nothing yet.” You continue as you sneak your hand over to interlink your fingers with his, relishing in the genuine surprise that took over Satoru’s face at the warm feeling. “And the fact that you actually apologized to me for the first time helped too.” You add on, squeezing his hand gently in yours in order to prompt him to look into your eyes.

“.....Does this mean you do want the bonus?” The man in front of you mutters out after a moment, clearly feeling overwhelmed with how emotionally charged the moment is as he tries to lighten the atmosphere with a joke. And it makes his heart sing in his chest when he hears your sweet laughter in response, a sound he had missed most in all the years apart as the both of you began leaning in from across the table.

“......Yes, I guess I do want the bonus. It’s Christmas eve, after all.” You respond with a smile, before taking charge of the moment as you press your lips into his. The kiss is short and sweet, and you know you’ll have to take the relationship slow as you re-learn each other’s personalities and quirks now that you’ve grown into adulthood. Its’ obvious that it won’t be an easy process, that you’ll both have to put in the work to make the relationship work and move past the mistakes of adolescence. But you also know that there will be plenty more kisses to come, because if your childhood friendship with Satoru and the torch you still carried for him left you with anything, it was the knowledge that, to you, Satoru Gojo was worth the work if you could wake up to that gorgeous, smiling face every morning.

A/N: It’s kind of crazy to believe that it’s already the end of the year, and that this will probably be the last thing I write and post this year. I’ll release a longer post being all sappy over the new year later, but for now I just want to say that I’m so happy I found the motivation and excitement to return to this blog this year and branch out into so many fandoms, I’ve had so much fun writing and posting here and I look forward to continuing in 2024! Thank you all for reading this and any of my other works you’ve read this year, I’ve really appreciated the support and I hope I can continue posting good writing in the future :>

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geekforhorror · 1 year ago

Note

The reader is a senator and has just arrived on Coruscant, her ship has just landed on the platform and she is anxious to see her beloved Anakin (they are not a couple yet) she expects Anakin to be waiting for her when she gets off but it is not him ... It's Obi-Wan and she tries not to be disappointed.

Obi-Wan sensing her sadness tells her that Padmé asked the council for Anakin to be her bodyguard.

Anakin on the other hand is grumpy, knowing that he missed the chance to see you and be the one to be with you makes him feel frustrated.

Obi-Wan and the senator arrive at the senate building in that there are Anakin and Padmé, she is trying to get Anakin to talk to her, you see this and try to look away, Obi gets their attention you have no choice but to approach, Ani turns to look at you and his heart is racing just like yours but your eyes are bright with tears at the thought that Anakin might love Padmé.

The point is Anakin is not going to lose you, he is going to manage to escape Padmé and go to your apartment to confess his love for you.

I hope you like it

lovesick

pairing: aotc!anakin x senator fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n (i’m so sorry for that 🤮), sadness, angst, slight padme slander (still love u bae!), make out session, fluff.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i honestly think this is my best and favorite fic i’ve EVER written

————

You never thought you would make it back.

You had just arrived in Coruscant after being cooped up in your ship for 16 hours straight and you thought you were going to lose it. You had traveled to Alderaan to visit your family despite being in the midst of a war. Your family was excited to see you and told you they were alright. Things were a bit hectic in the city, but what did you expect when there was a war breaking out? At least you were back where you belonged.

You sighed when your ship finally made it onto the landing strip. Before gathering your belongings, you made sure to take a quick stretch because of how demanding the long journey had been on your body. When you finally stood up, you grabbed your luggage that was in the overhead compartment and made sure to thank the pilot. The thing that made you excited the most was seeing your best friend, Anakin, after not seeing him while you were away. Don’t get it wrong, you were glad to be back in the great capital to fulfill your senator duties, but the thought of seeing Anakin filled your heart with even more joy. All you had to do was step out the door before you were reunited with him.

You open the door with a huge smile on your face, but it slowly falters once you see who was waiting for her. It was Obi-Wan. You were obviously glad to see him since he was an old friend of yours, but you felt disappointed at the fact that it wasn’t Anakin. You try to keep your manner a polite one, but the disappointment was still sinking further into your heart.

“Obi-Wan, what are you doing here?” you say playfully in an attempt to conceal your true feelings about the entire situation.

“I had to take Anakin’s place since he’s busy being Senator Amidala’s bodyguard,” he says with a slight smile. You look like a puppy who had just gotten kicked when you heard Anakin wasn’t going to be around. You tried to suppress any and all negative emotions from Obi-Wan, but it must’ve failed when he looked at you with concern.

“I know how you must feel. He’s your friend and I know you must want to see him, but he must put his duties first,” he says honestly.

He was wrong about one thing. He wasn’t just your friend. He was your crush. The two of you had met not that long ago through Padme of all people and you hit it off right away. It was as if you guys had known each other for a lifetime.

“I completely get it, master,” you say to him, understanding where he was coming from.

“Let’s walk shall we?” Obi-Wan asks rhetorically. You give him a nod before making your guys’ way towards the senator building.

—————

After having a rather fulfilling conversation with Obi-Wan, you guys finally made it to the senator building before walking in. You admire the lovely interior of the building and realized how much you missed seeing it. Even though it sounded crazy, you had grown to love the environment around you. Despite all the challenges the job of a senator possessed, you still loved it nevertheless. As you were reminiscing all the memories that had happened in that very building, something snapped you out of your wandering thoughts instantly. The sight of Padme and Anakin…together. It evoked many emotions and you couldn’t help but feel every single ounce of them. The pain, the sadness, and a slight sliver of fear.

You could see the way Padme talked to Anakin with a cheeky laugh and a smile to go with it. She looked at him with admiration and you could feel your heart sink. It gave you no choice but to look away because of the pain it caused. You knew she liked Anakin and he probably felt the same way about the brown haired senator. I mean, who wouldn’t like her? She was pretty, kind, caring… all of the traits of an amazing girlfriend. Anakin seemed to just walk smoothly by her side with his arms laying beside his hips in a nonchalant manner. Yep, he definitely liked her.

All of a sudden, you hear Obi-Wan start to talk to you and you jerk your head toward him to listen to him better. “Let’s go say hi to them,” he suggests. Before you have time to protest, he walks toward them with a pep in his step. You silently groan knowing you now have to follow him since you and him were in the pairs line of sight. This was going to be dreadful.

You notice how both Padme’s and Anakin’s eyes light up with joy the closer you get to them and you brace yourself for the interaction you were going to have with them. You knew it was going to be nothing short of awkward, especially if you couldn’t contain your mushy-gushy feelings in for Anakin during the conversation.

“Anakin, Padme… I didn’t expect to see you guys here,” you say.

“Anakin was just getting some air with me, isn’t that right?” she asks, directing her question at both you and Anakin.

“Yeah…” Anakin murmurs loud enough for you to hear.

“Well, what are you guys doing here?” she asks the two of you in a chipper voice.

“I just got back from Alderaan and Obi-Wan here decided to meet me outside of my ship,” you say with a fake happy tone in your voice as Obi-Wan smiled. You saw everything except the way Anakin was looking down at the carpeted ground with a sad look in his eyes. He missed you for so long and wanted to be the one to accompany you when you got back. Then he became Padme’s bodyguard and told he was to watch over her at all times instead of being with the one person who mattered in his life— you. He hated this arrangement more than you knew and not because he hated Padme. Not at all. He was Padme’s childhood friend and he enjoyed seeing her when he first entered the order. Yes, he harbored feelings for the senator when he was just a nine year old boy and she was the queen, but things were different now. He remembers it as an innocent type of puppy love where nothing came out of it.

“It’s good to see you guys again,” she says with a smile.

“We can say the same,” Obi-Wan says proudly.

You wanted nothing more than to say something to Anakin, but you couldn’t muster up the courage. It was agonizing knowing that you couldn’t form a sentence to the boy you liked when you knew he didn’t feel the same way about you. You could feel the tears start to strain in your eyes and you fought it with every fiber of your being even when it grew to be tiring. Somehow through the pressure, you felt something fall just below your eyelids and you knew you had failed. Tears were now cascading down your cheeks and you could feel the stinging pain that went along with it. Unknown to you, Anakin saw how stained your cheeks had become from your tears and it absolutely crushed him to see you like this. He had a feeling that you thought he didn’t feel the same way about you and all he wanted to do was tell you otherwise. He wanted to tell you that you were the most pretty, selfless, and caring person he had ever met. Similar to your situation, he had words to say, but just couldn’t get them out of his throat. You knew you had to get out of here as soon as possible if you were crying this soon into the conversation.

“Excuse me senator, I just realized I have somewhere to be. If you don’t mind, I have to excuse myself,” you say to her.

“No worries,” she replies.

“It was nice seeing you guys again. Take care,” you say with a faint smile before walking away from the group, knowing damn well that was the absolute worst and most awkward way to remove yourself from that situation. However, you knew it was for the best because of the toll it would’ve taken if you didn’t do so. You just needed to be alone right now.

“Hmm… that was rather odd,” Obi-Wan says with a confused look on his face.

————

It had been hours since you left them and returned to your apartment, which made Anakin puzzled. He was still pondering all the possible reasons you had cried and couldn’t come up with a solid reason. The thing that troubled him the most was seeing you in such a fragile state. He hated how he seemed to be the only one to notice how distraught you were yet did nothing to comfort you. He hated himself for it. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way about you since it was forbidden by the code he swore to. Plus, attachments and overwhelming feelings were seen as leading a Jedi over to the dark side. Anakin felt conflicted. The thought of never being able to fully have you suffocated every ounce of his soul. You were the tiny bit of light in his life that hadn’t burned out yet and he didn’t want that to change. Anakin knew he should be worried about other things like protecting Padme at all costs especially since he’s also in the same room as her right now.

Things had never been so boring with her like they were right now. The both of them were currently watching one of her holodramas and he could feel himself fighting the fat urge to fall asleep if it meant he wouldn’t have to watch this shit. To his surprise, Padme didn’t have the same endurance to stay up as late as him which became pretty evident as she was now yawning up a storm. He silently thanked the maker for letting the ball fall into his court in this moment.

“I think I’m going to go to bed now if that’s alright with you, Ani” she yawns.

That fucking nickname. He absolutely hated when she called him that. She had called him that when they first met as kids because it was normal, but he never thought he would hear her use it again. Quite frankly, he didn’t want her to call him that. The only person he would let call him that was you. Only you. And instead of being around you to hear the name fall from your lips, he was stuck with her.

“That’s probably a good idea,” he says, technically not lying. She nods at his comment before walking away, now entering her bedroom. He sighs when he hears the door shut, being happier than ever. The quaint atmosphere around him is deafening and he doesn’t know what to do to kill time while she’s asleep. He thinks of every possible option yet comes up with nothing. Reading? Not his thing. Watching sappy holodramas? Absolutely not.

The only thought that remained in his head as he was slumped over on the couch was you. He was imagining how he would make things right, tell you how he really felt, stuff like that. It was driving him mad. He never wanted anything more… not in this moment. Uninvited thoughts of all of the good times were flooding his mind. The times you guys laughed up a storm until it hurt, telling each other about your guys’ days, comforting the other when it was needed. Those were the highlights in his life despite not knowing you for that long. You were the best thing that happened to him and he couldn’t deny it at all. He knew he would be an absolute fool if he let you get away knowing that you were the one. With that in mind, he knew what he had to do even if it meant going against the orders of the council. He couldn’t be bothered to give a damn when you were restlessly in his thoughts. He had to see you. Right now.

He got up from the couch and quietly walked over to the front door before opening it and making his way to your door. He was feeling uneasy about the entire thing and he didn’t know why. He was truly into you— that much he knew. What he didn’t know was the territory that came with it. His entire life would change forever if he went through with admitting his true feelings for you. He would have to constantly lie to the council, sneak around with you, risk getting caught, and so many more unthinkable things. But through all of these thoughts, one thing became abundantly clear to him. He would do it all for you.

Anakin finally breaks out of his thoughts and timidly knocks on your door, feeling his heart race faster than ever. He was scared.

————

You were a mess sitting on the couch. After the interaction you shared earlier, you had become an emotional wreck. Here you were, shamelessly eating ice cream from the tub and watching your favorite holodrama in your comfiest silk pjs in an attempt to distract yourself from the pain. You were having such a great time until you heard a set of knocks against your apartment door. You wondered who could possibly be here right now at the dead of night. You groan before getting up from the comfy couch and make your way towards the door. You open it slowly until you were met with a familiar figure. It was Anakin.

“Anakin, is everything alright? What are you doing here?” you ask him.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

You hesitate for a second, but then remember how he’s always there for you when you need someone to talk to. He made you feel better when you were feeling down whether it was with his witty jokes or his contagious laugh. You knew you owed him.

“Of course,” you say with a faint smile. He steps into your apartment with an awkward stride, which was unusual because he always had a carried himself with confidence.

“Nice place you got here,” he says, now wandering around your apartment. He was deflecting.

“Ani,” you call out.

“Yeah?” he questions.

“I can tell something’s bothering you. Tell me and I’ll listen,” you say.

You can hear his breath hitch at your proposition. That much is clear. Clearly whatever he had to say was slowly eating away at him and it hurt you to see the once confident Padawan now reduced to a turtle hiding in his shell.

“It’s not that easy,” he mutters softly.

“Ani, you know you can talk to me about anything, you know that right?” you reassure.

“But this is different… It’s about you,” he finally admits.

What?… What could that possibly mean?

“About me?” you question.

“It’s complicated,” he says.

Come on Skywalker, just say it already.

“I think I can handle it,” you say with trepidation.

He sighs heavily with glints of sweat forming underneath his robes, nervous but also ready to get this over with.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

You almost look shocked and you can’t help but take a second to process his words. Anakin Skywalker, the chosen one, was in love with you? It sounded crazy just thinking about it. You felt like you were dreaming, but with the desire to never wake up. You felt your heart flutter in your chest but also quiver at the same time. It was so much to take in.

“Y-You’re in love with me?” you stammer like a fool.

“I have ever since I met you,” he admits.

“What about Padme?” you question.

“Padme? Nothing’s going on with me and Padme,” he clarifies.

“I see the way she looks at you, Anakin,” you say with a sad expression planted on your face.

“Is that why you were upset earlier? Because of Padme?” he asks, concerned for your wellbeing.

“It doesn’t matter,” you let out.

“Well it matters to me. I always care about the way you feel,” Anakin says to you.

“Then you should know how I feel right now,” you begin with dread filling your body before taking a rather shallow breath. “Truth is… I’m in love with you too,” you confess.

“You are?” he asks with confusion evident on his pretty face.

“Maker, Ani… Of course I am. I mean, why do you think I was sad about Obi-Wan greeting me instead of you?” you say.

That nickname.

“You’re not the only one,” he admits. “I wanted to see you return more than anything in the galaxy”.

“I did too,” you say softly.

That felt good to get off your chest.

“The only thing I want more than that is you,” Anakin pleads with tears threatening to spill from his gorgeous blue eyes.

It hurt to see him like this… so vulnerable and raw. Because of you.

“Trust me, I do too… It’s just not possible with the council and everything,” you counterclaim.

“I don’t care about the council,” Anakin tells you straight up.

“I can’t let you throw your entire life away for me even if we both want each other. I mean, you would be expelled from the order if they ever found out,” you say in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

It was truly bittersweet. Here you guys were, finally admitting your mutual feelings for one another before it was ruined by the fact that the council would never allow such a thing to occur. For makers sake, couldn’t they let you guys to be happy? The whole attachment rule seemed to be entirely stupid to you guys because it felt like the two of you weren’t allowed to express yourselves through romantic feelings. In short, it fucking sucked.

“They would never find out… I wouldn’t let them,” he claims.

“I don’t know about that, Ani… It’s all too risky,” you say back to him.

“I would risk anything and everything for you,” he says softly.

“Are you sure? I mean, you committed yourself to the Jedi code for life…” you stammer.

All of a sudden, he leans in closer to you as to answer your question before softly kissing you on your lips. You should be pulling away right now… it would be the right thing to do, but your feelings felt more right. Finally overcoming hesitation, you accept the kiss and maker, it was everything you’ve ever wanted in a kiss. You had imagined kissing him multiple times, but the real deal felt better than anything your mind could’ve pictured. It was soft but also full of passion. You felt like you were going to pass away, but if you were going to, at least you were doing something you loved with the boy you loved.

The two of you fall deeper into the much needed kiss which was fueled by all of the built up emotions you guys had held in for what seemed like forever. It was nothing short of bliss. He finally breaks the contact before smiling at you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he finally says to you with a fat smile on his face.

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