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ja3yun · 24 days

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Stretch it Out | P.SH

instructor!sunghoon x ballerina!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, mirror sex, pet names (sweatheart, good girl), bad ballet references bc idk what i'm talking about, slight mention of self doubt, not proof read, anything else lmk! wc: 7.4k REQ: ballet intructor!sunghoon helping ballerina!reader stretch and you know where the rest leads to 😼 a/n: hi! i took this request and shuffled it around to make it this! hope this is okay anonnie and i am also so sorry for the late posting of it! i've been working on so much lately and with my little break i didn't do much writing. as always, comments, reblogs, and likes are all welcome!

Applause echoes through the spacious studio as one of your fellow dancers finishes receiving her critique from Mrs. Yang. Her routine was strong, though it seems she needs to work on her turnout - something you hadn't noticed. Perhaps it’s because your nerves are clouding your perception; after all, it will be your turn once she's finished.

The Annual Exhibition is less than two months away, and this will be your first time presenting your completed routine for approval in front of an audience - especially Mrs. Yang, who is more than just an instructor to you; she’s your role model, the person you’ve looked up to throughout your entire ballet journey.

Throughout your high school years, you dedicated your evenings and weekends to ballet school, working tirelessly just for the chance to apply to the National University of Arts and audition in front of Mrs. Yang. For months leading up to this moment, you poured everything into perfecting your pliés and pirouettes. Blisters marred your feet, and exhaustion settled deep in your bones, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was proving yourself worthy.

“Y/N, you’re up,” Mrs. Yang’s voice echoes through the studio like a haunting ghost.

Following her words, you get up and shake off any nerves you have, all too aware of the impact performing badly will have; she could cut you from the exhibition or tell you to scrap the routine entirely, and both of those are not an option for you.

Now, as you step forward to take your place at the centre of the studio, the weight of the moment presses down on you. Every muscle is tense with anticipation, and your heart races as you prepare to dance.

The music begins, and you launch into your routine. At first, the nerves are overwhelming - each movement feels too stiff, too calculated. But as you glide into an arabesque and sweep through a series of pirouettes, something shifts. The familiar rhythm of the dance takes over, and your body begins to move almost on its own, flowing through each step with a grace you didn't know you possessed.

You’re hyper-aware of Mrs. Yang’s presence, of her eyes following your every move, but instead of faltering, you find yourself sinking deeper into the performance. Each développé stretches to its fullest extent, each sauté feels lighter than air. Your breathing steadies and the tension in your muscles transforms into power and control.

As you close the final sequence with a grand jeté, landing with a precise yet delicate touch, you can feel the room holding its breath. You finish in a graceful reverence, chest heaving but mind calm. In this moment, all the hours of hard work, the pain, and the sacrifices feel worth it. You've given everything you have.

But as you glance at Mrs. Yang, it doesn’t look like she’s as satisfied with your performance as you are. Her face is stoic, unreadable, but you’ve been in her class long enough to decipher even the subtlest of her expressions. The slight raise of her right eyebrow sends a wave of dread crashing through you. That’s never a good sign. Her eyes cling to you with the intensity of an unwanted gaze, leaving an uncomfortable knot twisting in your stomach.

She remains quiet for a few minutes, the silence stretching unbearably as though she’s gathering her words. When she finally speaks, her tone is clipped, measured. “It’s good, modern, and meets the criteria.”

You brace yourself, knowing that a ‘but’ is coming.

“But,” she continues, and you wince slightly, “you are not sharp enough. I mean seriously, Y/N, how many times do I need to pull you up for this? Do you not want to improve?”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You don’t want to disappoint her. You gave everything you had in that performance, even though it was just a run-through. But it’s clear that it wasn’t enough.

You bow your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Yang’s irritation sharpens. “Then for the love of God, can you listen to me this time?” She stands up, her movements precise and deliberate as she walks over to you. Her voice is firm, tinged with exasperation. “This exhibition is crucial to your future career. It’s what sets you apart from the others, and yet you seem to lack such basic skills. Even the first years are forming lines better than you.”

Her words slice through you, each one a reminder of the standards you’ve failed to meet. The sting of her tone is almost unbearable, but you know deep down that it comes from a place of faith. She nitpicks because she sees potential in you, potential she wants to help you realise. Each six-month review she’s had with you, she’s made it clear that she believes you can make it far in this world.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Yang,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“Apologise to yourself, not to me.”

A chorus of snickers drifts from the edge of the room. You glance over to see a group of girls, giggling and holding in laughter, their eyes full of condescension. The sound pierces through your already fragile self-belief, making you shrink into yourself, every snicker chipping away at whatever confidence you had left. Doubt begins to creep in, gnawing at the edges of your resolve. You start questioning whether you’re truly cut out for this, whether all the sacrifices you’ve made have been for nothing.

Before you can spiral too deeply into your own thoughts, Mrs. Yang’s fingers press firmly against your cheek, gently but insistently turning your face to meet hers. “You can’t do this on your own, so I’m assigning you a coach.”

“But you are my coach,” you reply, your voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes, but I don’t have time to give you hours of one-on-one training,” she says, rolling her eyes as if that statement should be obvious. She strides back to her seat, preparing to evaluate the next girl in line. “I have someone in mind. They’re very fluid and pointed in their gestures. They should whip you into shape. I’ll book you an out-of-hours studio for the foreseeable.”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You stand there, rooted to the spot, unable to fully process what she’s just said. Sure, she’ll still be your instructor during scheduled lessons, but this means that on top of your gruelling 12-hour days, your endless rehearsals, and the constant pressure to perfect every move, you’ll now have to spend extra time with a new coach.

It’s overwhelming. The thought of adding yet another layer of intensity to your already packed schedule makes your head spin. Your body, already pushed to its limits, protests at the idea of even more hours in the studio. Your heart sinks as the reality of the situation sets in. How will you manage it all? How will you balance the expectations of not one but two demanding mentors?

You want to succeed, to rise to the challenge, but a part of you is terrified that you’ll crumble under the weight of it all. The path ahead, already steep and treacherous, has just become even more daunting.

As Mrs. Yang calls out the name of the next dancer, you force yourself to step aside, the familiar sting of exhaustion settling into your bones.

You can only hope that this new coach makes it worth your while.

_____

The long day of classes has left you drained, every muscle aching with the residue of endless rehearsals and critiques. The last thing you want to do is spend more time in the studio, yet here you are, trudging down the empty hallways of the performance centre with your gym bag slung over your shoulder. The familiar scent of rosin and sweat lingers in the air, and you can't help but feel a pang of dread at the thought of more practice. Your mind buzzes with the memory of Mrs. Yang’s words earlier this week, her disappointment, and the pressure of living up to expectations weighing heavily on your shoulders.

As you push open the door to the studio, your eyes fall on an unfamiliar figure - a boy standing with his back to you. He’s tall, strikingly so, with broad shoulders that taper down into a lean, athletic frame. His dark hair is tousled, falling just above the nape of his neck, and he’s dressed in loose joggers and a fitted white tank top that highlights the sinewy lines of his muscles.

You hesitate in the doorway, momentarily taken aback by his presence. The studio had been booked for you, and the last thing you want is a confrontation with a stranger. You clear your throat softly, hoping to catch his attention. “Um, hello?” you say timidly, your voice barely above a whisper. You hope that a gentle approach will encourage him to leave without any fuss.

The boy whips around at the sound of your voice, and your breath catches in your throat. His face is nothing short of breathtaking; sharp, elegant features softened by a small, almost shy smile. His eyes, a deep, captivating brown, seem to sparkle with quiet intensity as he takes in your appearance. For a moment, you’re struck by how impossibly beautiful he is, like a sculptor’s masterpiece brought to life. He seems too perfect, too unreal, and you feel a strange flutter in your chest as you meet his gaze.

“Hi,” he says, his voice smooth and warm, like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. He’s still studying you, and you can’t help but take the opportunity to do the same, noting every detail of his flawless face - the way his lips curve slightly upwards, the sharpness of his jawline, the softness of his eyes.

You blink, trying to regain your composure. “I don’t mean to be rude,” you start, hoping to keep your tone polite, “but my teacher booked me this room for a few hours.”

He raises an eyebrow, his small smile never fading. “Four hours to be exact, yeah. She also booked you…me.” The confusion must be evident on your face because he adds, “I’m your coach, Sunghoon.”

“You?” The word slips out before you can stop it, and you instantly regret how incredulous you sound. The last thing you want is to offend him, but the shock of the situation has thrown you off balance.

“Yeah, me. Why?” His tone is still light, but there’s a hint of defensiveness in his voice, and that sends you into a mild panic. You quickly shake your head, trying to salvage the situation.

“No, no, I’m not trying to say anything negative,” you stammer, holding up your hands as if to ward off any misunderstanding. “It’s just… I’ve never seen you around the performance centre, let alone the ballet corridor.”

He nods, seeming to understand your confusion. “That’s because you’ll find me in the sports centre.”

You take a moment to size him up, your mind racing as you try to figure out what sport he could possibly play. He’s too lean to be a rugby player, his legs too slender to be a footballer, but he’s tall enough to be a basketball player. You consider the possibility of him being a rower or maybe a gymnast, but nothing quite fits. He’s a mystery, one that piques your curiosity.

As if reading your thoughts, he interrupts your internal questioning. “I’m a figure skater.”

The revelation surprises you, and you can’t help but blurt out, “Oh.” You pause, trying to piece together why a figure skater would be chosen to coach you in ballet. Placing your bag to the side of the room, you turn to him again. “So why are you coaching me?”

“Why can’t I?” he counters, his tone holding a subtle challenge that makes you feel slightly defensive. “Mrs. Yang said you’re having trouble looking elegant and punctuated in your movements. Skaters have the same problem.”

You nod slowly, but a part of you is still sceptical. “But you guys have ice and skates. I have a wooden floor and ballet pumps.”

A laugh escapes his lips before he quickly covers his mouth, a look of apology flashing across his face. “Sorry, it’s just…what does that have to do with anything?”

You frown, still not entirely convinced. “You guys have blades to move you. I have to coordinate my legs to move me. You guys can think about fluidity and movement.”

He crosses his arms, his expression becoming more serious as he regards you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “Do you know how ridiculous you sound? We have to balance on a tiny blade and have every chance to slip or crash from a jump.”

His words hang in the air, and you suddenly feel a bit foolish for your assumptions. Of course, figure skating requires immense skill and precision - maybe even more so than ballet, given the added challenge of balancing on ice.

“Okay, fair point,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. You also hate it when people underestimate the skill and energy it takes to perform ballet, and yet here you are doing it to him about his own sport.

He steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze. “I know you were expecting some ballet genius to help you but our arts are similar. It’s about control, balance, and grace,” he explains. “On the ice, every movement needs to be both powerful and delicate. The same applies to ballet. You need to find that balance between strength and elegance. That’s where I come in.”

You nod slowly, beginning to understand his perspective. The way he speaks, the passion in his voice, makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, this might actually work. “And you think you can teach me that?”

“I know I can,” he says confidently, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, that is.”

There’s a challenge in his words, one that you can’t resist rising to. You’ve always prided yourself on your work ethic, and you’re not about to let anyone doubt your dedication.

“I am,” you reply firmly, meeting his gaze with determination.

Sunghoon starts the session by having you go through your routine. His eyes are sharp, missing nothing as he watches you move across the floor. You’re acutely aware of his presence, the way his gaze seems to weigh on your every step, every turn, every jump. It’s unnerving at first, but you push through the discomfort, focusing on executing each movement with precision.

When you finish, he steps forward, nodding thoughtfully. “You’re good,” he says, and the praise sends a warm flush of satisfaction through you and a blush to your cheeks. “But you’re too tense. You’re overthinking every move, and it shows. Ballet is as much about feeling as it is about technique. You need to let go a little.”

You frown slightly, not entirely sure how to do that. “Let go?”

“Yeah,” he says, moving to stand beside you. “Your muscles are too tight, your movements too calculated. It’s like you’re afraid of making a mistake, so you’re holding back.”

You look down at the floor, his words hitting a little too close to home. You’ve always been afraid of making mistakes, always felt the pressure to be perfect. It’s something that’s been drilled into you since you first started dancing, and it’s hard to shake.

He must sense your hesitation because he steps closer, his voice softening. “Hey,” he says gently, and you look up to find his eyes full of understanding. “I get it. But if you keep holding back, you’re never going to reach your full potential.”

There’s something in his voice that makes you want to trust him, something that makes you feel like maybe he understands you in a way that others don’t. You nod slowly, taking a deep breath as you try to let go of the tension in your body.

“Good,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. “Now, let’s try something different.”

_____

For two hours straight, you push your body to its limits, executing each movement with precision and determination. Sunghoon’s voice fills the studio, giving you sharp, pointed instructions that you follow without question. But as the minutes tick by, the atmosphere begins to shift. The calm, encouraging demeanour he started with fades, replaced with a growing tension that seems to coil around the two of you, tightening with each correction he makes.

“Extend more,” he snaps as you move through a series of arabesques. His tone is snappier now, the softness from before replaced with something harsher. “You’re still too stiff.”

You grit your teeth, focusing on stretching every muscle to its fullest, making sure each line is as precise as possible. But no matter how much you try, his dissatisfaction only seems to grow.

“Again,” he commands, his voice laced with frustration. You try to push your discontent down, channelling it into your movements, but the more you try, the more his critiques seem to cut through you.

“You’re losing focus. How are you going to perform on stage if you can’t even manage this in practice?”

The sting of his criticism hits you deep, and you can feel your confidence waver. Are you really that bad? You’re hitting the moves correctly, focusing intently on your lines - the very aspect of the performance Mrs. Yang had criticised you for. You’re doing everything he’s asking, so why is he still so frustrated? Shouldn’t he be pleased that his coaching is starting to take effect?

You execute a pirouette, landing with precision, but the instant your foot touches the ground, Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the air. “No,” he says sharply, shaking his head. “You’re not following through. Where’s the energy? The intention?”

“I’m trying!” The words slip out before you can stop them, frustration bubbling over. Your chest heaves with exertion, and you meet his eyes, desperate for some sign that he understands how hard you’re working, how much you’re giving.

But his expression remains hard, unreadable, and that only fuels the growing tension between you. “Trying isn’t enough,” he snaps back, stepping closer, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You need to do more than just hit the moves. You have to feel them. Right now, you’re just going through the motions. There’s no passion, no fire.”

His words cut deep, and you feel a flare of anger mixed with hurt. “I’m doing exactly what you asked,” you retort, unable to keep the edge out of your voice. “I’m focusing on the lines, on the form. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes,” he says, his frustration palpable, “but you’re missing the point. It’s not just about form; it’s about bringing the movements to life. Right now, you’re nothing more than a marionette, moving because you’re being told to, not because you’re actually feeling the dance.”

The comparison stings and you can feel yourself reaching boiling point. You’ve been working so hard, pushing yourself beyond what you thought you were capable of, and yet here you are, being told that it’s still not enough. A part of you wants to shout at him, to tell him that he doesn’t understand how hard this is, how much pressure you’re under. But instead, you swallow the words, letting the irritation simmer beneath the surface.

Sunghoon’s gaze softens, just a fraction, but it’s enough to make you feel the weight of his expectations even more acutely. “I know you can do better. Mrs. Yang told me you’re one of her best students,” he says, his voice gentler now with the content, though no less intense. “That’s why I’m pushing you. I need you to push yourself. You’ve got so much potential, but something’s holding you back. What is it?”

His question hangs in the air, heavy and probing. For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. Why are you holding back? Is it the fear of failing? Fear that you’ll never be good enough? Or maybe, deep down, you just don’t believe in yourself.

The silence between you stretches, thick with hostility. Sunghoon steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming, the heat radiating off him nearly suffocating. You can feel the intensity of his gaze, a challenge flickering in his eyes, daring you to shatter whatever invisible barrier is restraining you.

He’s so close now that you can see the tight set of his jaw, the way his eyes blaze with a fire that sends a shiver down your spine. The frustration is palpable, a tangible force crackling in the air, making it feel electric, charged with something both exhilarating and frightening.

With a firm but gentle touch, Sunghoon places his hands on your shoulders, turning you to face the mirror. He steps in behind you, closing the space between your bodies. “Look at yourself,” he says, his voice low and resonant. “See how tense you are?” His large hands slide down from your shoulders, tracing the line of your body. “Every muscle is knotted up. You can’t perform at your best unless you loosen up. Stop overthinking. Just…let go.”

Your eyes meet his in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and in that instant, the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Then, almost instinctively, his fingers press into your sides, firm and commanding, gliding up your waist and torso with deliberate slowness. The sensation sends a wave of heat through your body, and your breath catches as he lifts your arms, stretching your upper half with a fluid motion that leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“Feel this,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the nape of your neck, sending another quake over your body. He holds your wrists above your head with one hand, the other pressing into your lower back, making you hyper-aware of the heat emanating from him. “See how good that feels?”

Using his knuckles, he circles the bottom of your spine, dissolving any knots and doubts from it. You resist the urge to moan but your eyes roll to the back of your head as you push your hips into him, aching for more of his magical touch. Out of all the massages you have ever had, this tiny glimmer of one beats them all.

His breath spreads over your skin, and his fingers tighten slightly around your wrists as he holds you in place. Once you bring your eyes forward, he locks in with yours in the mirror. His piercing stare is intense and your heart quickens, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

“You like that?” Sunghoon asks, the smirk plastered on his face as he feels you grinding onto his growing boner. He can see you wanting to let go in the reflection of your eyes as well as the neediness in your breaths, giving him all the consent he needs to take this further.

As he releases your wrists, his hand trails down your shoulders and back to meet the other. The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your top, firm yet tender. His fingers glide along your spine, coaxing your body to arch into the movement, a soft sigh escaping your lips. His touch is skilled, knowing exactly where to press and where to ease, melting away the tension in your muscles, leaving you pliant under his hands.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers, the edge in his voice betraying his awareness of the effect he’s having on you. The connection is almost too intense to bear. But you can’t look away, drawn to the magnetic pull between you. He slides his hands over your sides and across your lower abdomen, fingers digging slightly into your muscles, the pressure both soothing and intoxicating as he massages your belly and hips.

You instinctively begin to lower your arms, the proximity making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. But his grip tightens around your waist in warning. “No, keep your arms up, sweetheart,” he says, his tone demanding, the instructor in him resurfacing.

Resting his hand flatly on your stomach, his fingers spread as he pulls you flush against him, your back meeting the solid expanse of his chest. The contact makes you acutely aware of every point where your bodies touch, your heart hammering in your chest as your breath catches. His hands linger at the waistband of your leggings, before slowly, his hands dip down, fingers brushing against your skin, exploring with deliberate, teasing slowness. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity through you, your skin tingling under his touch.

His hands move lower, the anticipation building with every inch he covers. You can feel your muscles trembling, your arms still stretched above your head as he asked, but the effort to maintain the position becomes increasingly difficult with every passing second.

His fingers find your folds, slipping between them with an agonising slowness that leaves you gasping. The sensation is overwhelming, your body instinctively moving with his fingers, but he’s quick to remind you of his control. “Keep your arms up, be a good girl and listen,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a quiet authority that leaves no room for disobedience.

The smirk on his face is unmistakable as he watches you struggle to comply, the tension between following his instructions and giving in to the intoxicating pull of his touch almost unbearable. His fingers continue their slow exploration, teasing and tormenting you with a skill that leaves you trembling, your resolve weakening with every passing moment.

Impulse begs you to let your arms fall, to collapse into his embrace, but his gaze holds you in place, that smirk still playing on his lips as he watches you battle with your own desires. The contrast between his command and the sheer pleasure he’s coaxing from your body is dizzying, leaving you on the edge of surrender.

Yet, despite the intense need coursing through you, you force yourself to keep your arms raised, stretching above your head, the effort only adding to the thrill coursing through your veins. His fingers move with deliberate intent now, pressing deeper, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body that make it almost impossible to think, to breathe.

Sunghoon’s fingers expertly play with your pussy, two of them circling your sensitive nub with a maddening precision that leaves you dizzy. “Do you feel how exhausted your arms are?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of smugness, as though expecting an answer despite your obvious distraction.

Nodding, you squeeze your eyes shut so tightly that white spots dance behind your lids, a kaleidoscope of fleeting lights against the darkness. The burn in your arms is a sharp contrast to the way your hips instinctively move, undulating in perfect sync with his skilled fingers. It's a delicious torment—the strain in your muscles somehow amplifies the pleasure coiling low in your belly, turning every sensation sharper, more intense.

Suddenly, his lips are on your neck, a gentle press of heat that sends a shiver cascading down your spine, threatening to unravel you completely. The warmth of his mouth on your skin is your undoing, and before you can stop yourself, your arms give way. You collapse forward, hands scrambling to find purchase, seeking him instinctively as if he's the only thing keeping you grounded. Your fingers dig into his arms, nails biting into his skin as you cling to him, desperate for stability in the storm he's unleashed within you.

"See how loose you feel?" His voice is a murmur against your neck, each word a hot, teasing caress. "How your body wants to move on its own, to give in? That’s how your performance should be."

As if to punctuate his point, his fingers slide inside you, the sudden, intimate invasion tearing a sharp gasp from your lips. Your hips buck against his hand, craving more, driven by the need he’s ignited in you. His other arm tightens around your waist, holding you close, anchoring you to him as his fingers continue their relentless rhythm, each stroke designed to push you further, closer to the edge.

The atmosphere around you thickens, every breath heavy with the electric tension between you. The heat radiating from his body seeps into yours, an overwhelming presence that consumes you, making it impossible to think of anything but the here and now. The scent of him - musky, intoxicating - fills your senses, making you feel lightheaded, dizzy with desire. You can feel the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against your lower back, a solid reminder of his own need, adding fuel to the fire already burning within you.

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, more urgently, more demanding. "Even your pussy is so tight," he murmurs, his tone more observation than criticism. "Do I need to open this up too?"

Your laboured breathing is your only response, mingling with the slick, rhythmic sounds of his hand moving inside you. The coil of pleasure in your core tightens with every thrust, winding tighter and tighter, the pressure building until you feel like you might shatter from the intensity of it.

Your hands clutch at his arm, desperate, seeking something solid to hold onto as your legs threaten to buckle beneath you. His fingers curl inside you, finding that perfect spot that sends your vision spinning, a raw, needy moan escaping your lips. The feeling of his hard length pressing against you, coupled with the masterful way his fingers work you, has your entire body humming with sensation, alive with the need to surrender to the pleasure he’s offering.

Sunghoon’s mouth returns to your neck, lips brushing over your sensitive skin, his teeth grazing lightly as he sucks, sending another jolt of arousal through you. "That’s it," he murmurs against your skin, his voice a low, rough command that vibrates through you. "Let go. Feel it. This is how you should be."

His words wrap around you like a spell, breaking down the last of your restraint. Your body moves with his, falling into the rhythm he’s set, lost in the heat and desire pulsing between you. Every stroke, every touch, draws you deeper into the abyss of pleasure, until all you can do is let go and let him guide you.

“Fuck, Sunghoon,” you manage to mewl, your voice trembling, breathless, as you throw your head back, letting it rest against his chest.

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him, the sound reverberating through you, adding to the fire already blazing in your veins. His lips trail up to your ear, his tongue flicking against your earlobe, a playful, teasing nip that sends another shiver racing down your spine. “That’s it,” he whispers, his voice thick with a mix of amusement and desire. His fingers curl inside you again, hitting that spot that makes your entire body jerk in his hold, another gasp torn from your throat. “You like this, don’t you? You’re such a perfect student, so eager to please.”

All you can do is nod, biting down on your lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill over. He hums appreciatively, his hot breath brushing against your ear, the sensation sending another ripple of pleasure through you. “Good,” he purrs, his voice low and commanding, like the instructor he is. “You’re a quick learner when you want to be. You respond so well to guidance.”

Without warning, his hand shifts, thumb finding your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your hips jerk involuntarily. Your vision blurs, stars dancing before your eyes as the pleasure crashes over you in waves, each one pulling you deeper into the sensation. His fingers move with expert precision, relentless in their pursuit of your release, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

In the mirror before you, Sunghoon’s eyes lock onto you, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he relishes in watching the pleasure contort your face. "You’re moving perfectly, not overthinking, just feeling how you should," he murmurs, almost to himself, pride evident in his voice.

Just as you feel yourself teetering on the brink, he slows his movements, dragging out your pleasure, keeping you suspended on the edge. You whimper with need, the desperation in your voice only making him grin wider. His lips brush against your ear, his voice a dark, seductive whisper that sends your brain into orbit. "You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? Be a good dancer and let go, show me how well you can perform."

It’s not a question; it’s a command. And with one final, skilled stroke, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiralling into a climax that tears through you, leaving every atom in your body shaking with intensity and your muscles instantly tensing, just to relax once again.

As the tremors subside, you feel his hands shift, fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings. “We’re just getting started,” he murmurs, a hint of something dark and promising in his voice. Slowly, he pulls them down, the fabric dragging against your skin, heightening your sensitivity. “You’re still tight,” he observes, voice low, almost thoughtful. “We need to work on that.”

He positions himself behind you, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the cool air against your bare skin. Pushing his joggers and boxers down to his thighs, he lets his hard cock spring free, your body shielding it from the mirror in front of you, but as he drags it along your folds, you get a sense of the thick, long shaft he is about to impale you with.

His hand moves to your hips, guiding you, adjusting your stance, and your hands find home on the mirror in front of you, fingers splaying across the cool glass. “Arch your back,” he instructs, voice firm yet gentle, as if this were just another rehearsal. “Relax into it…let me in.”

With a measured, almost calculated precision, he enters you, the sensation of him filling you completely making you gasp. In the mirror, your reflection catches your eye, your mouth falling open as you watch him disappear inside you. “Oh god,” you moan, the image of your bodies coming together, the way he stretches you, only intensifying the sensation. “Sunghoon…”

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you, pulling you deeper into the moment. “Look at yourself,” he commands softly, his breath hot against your ear. “See how your body opens up when you let go? When you stop fighting and just let the movement happen? That’s how you get perfect lines.”

His pace is slow at first, methodical, every thrust a deliberate stroke meant to coax your body into submission. Your eyes lock onto your reflection, the sight of his hips moving against yours, the way your skin flushes with arousal, captivating. “Fuck, your pussy is sensational,” he breathes, a hint of strain in his voice as he pulls back slightly, only to push deeper. “Almost as good as your allegro.”

You let out a broken moan, your gaze flicking between his intense expression in the mirror and the way his muscles are contracting in his arms as he firms his grip on your waist, focusing on pounding into you with fervour. “Sunghoon… more… please…”

Each movement of his hips is like a masterclass, each squeeze from his hands and twitch of his cock only making your body ache for more. “Don’t hold back,” he whispers, his grip on your hips tightening, pulling you closer. “Let your body respond to mine.”

Your eyes widen as he leans forward slightly, the angle allowing you to see more of him in the mirror, his jaw tightening with every thrust. “Feels so good,” you manage to gasp out, your voice breathy, desperate as you push back against him, trying to take him deeper. “Please, don’t stop…”

The mirror reflects the sheen of sweat forming on your skin, the way your body arches into his touch, how every line of your form matches the rhythm he’s set. Your body moves with his, every thrust pushing you closer to that edge again, every word sinking deeper into your mind. His hand slides down your stomach, fingers finding your clit once more, adding that extra layer of stimulation that has your legs shaking. “That’s it,” he coaxes, voice rich with approval. “Give in to it. Let your body move the way it wants to…the way it needs to.”

“Sunghoon… oh, god… I’m gonna-” Your words cut off in a whimper as his pace quickens, the pace he sets becoming more intense, more demanding, each thrust designed to unravel you, to push you past your limits.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs into your neck, his gaze flickering up to meet yours in the mirror, watching how your breath fogs up the glass in front of you and your fingers claw down the flat surface in an attempt to grip onto something tangible. The sight of you coming undone in the reflection only seems to spur him on, his hips snapping against yours with renewed vigour.

“Sunghoon, I-” you try to speak, but the words dissolve into a moan as he thrusts deeper, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur and stars dance before your eyes, the bell of his cock kissing the sensitive spot inside your walls.

“Show me,” he commands, his voice like a conductor’s baton, directing the crescendo. “Show me how beautifully you can fall apart.”

Sunghoon’s arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling your trembling body back against his chest. The new angle allows him to thrust even deeper, the motion sending shockwaves of pleasure through you, each stroke of his cock searing itself into your memory. You feel completely filled by him, the sensation overwhelming as your reflection quakes, your body obeying every demand he silently makes. Your muscles clench around him, and as your head falls back against his shoulder, you cry out his name.

The mirror captures every detail - the flush of your skin, the arch of your back, the way your mouth opens in a silent scream as another intense climax rips through you. This one is even more powerful than the last, leaving you utterly undone, your body shaking in his arms as he holds you steady.

As the waves of pleasure begin to ebb, your eyes lock onto the mirror once more. You see yourself as Sunghoon sees you raw, vulnerable, but also strong, capable of surrendering and finding beauty in letting go. For a moment, all you can see is the perfect dancer he’s crafted, the one who’s learned to trust the rhythm and fall apart beautifully.

Chasing his own release, he begins to buck his hips in a fast, sharp manner, aware that two orgasms on your end could make you extra sensitive. Your pussy milks his cock as he cums deep inside of you, his nails scratching your hips and down your ass, as he moans out your name, chanting it like a hymn during confession.

His chest heaves against your back and he kisses anywhere he can on your neck and shoulders to ground himself in the present, bringing himself down from his high.

As he slowly slides out of you, his arms never leave your body, keeping you close. He gently lowers you to the ground, sitting you down and holding you against him. Your body feels like jelly, completely spent, but his embrace is comforting. He presses soft kisses to the back of your head, his breath warm against your damp skin.

"You did so well, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tender, full of pride.

You tilt your head back slightly, looking up at him with a small, exhausted smile. "I don’t think I’m supposed to be this relaxed when I perform at the exhibition," you manage to say, a breathless giggle escaping your lips.

Sunghoon chuckles along with you, the sound vibrating through your body where you're pressed against him. He shakes his head, brushing a few strands of hair away from your sweaty face. "No, you should have some feeling in your bones," he agrees, wiping the moisture from your brow with the back of his hand. "But do you see how, when you let yourself do what your body wanted, you felt a million times better?"

You nod, the memory of the intensity still fresh in your mind. "Yeah…I did. It felt different…freer."

"Exactly," he says, his eyes softening as he gazes at you. "That’s how ballet is supposed to be. You can’t bring emotions to an audience if you’re too busy concentrating on getting the next move right."

"But Mrs. Yang always talks about perfection," you counter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "She says, ‘You need to be perfect to achieve perfection.’ She repeats it all the time."

Sunghoon sighs, a look of understanding crossing his features. "It’s the same for us," he admits, his tone tinged with a mix of disdain and resignation. "Every skate has to be better than the last, or else you’re a failure." His voice carries the weight of someone who’s heard those words too many times, who’s internalised them and yet knows there’s more to the story.

"But perfection isn’t something you learn from a textbook. It’s not something you can force." He pauses, looking down at you, his expression thoughtful. "You need to find your own colour, your own style. That’s where true perfection lies - when it comes from within, not from trying to meet someone else’s standards."

You hold his gaze, the truth in his words sinking in. For years you have tried to live up to Mrs. Yang’s expectation that you lost your real love for the art. Or maybe, not lost the love, but rather buried it under the weight of being perfect.

"But…what if I never find it? My colour."

Sunghoon’s lips curve into a small smile, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your flushed skin. "To be honest, you’re better than most. You’ve got the skill, the technique, but you’re holding yourself back because you’re so focused on being perfect." His eyes bore into yours, sincere and encouraging. "You need to let your posture breathe, stop worrying about being flawless, and just…dance. That’s what’s holding you back - then you’ll find it."

His words resonate deeply within you, stirring something that’s been buried under layers of self-doubt and external expectations. "So I just need to let go?"

"Exactly," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "Let go, trust yourself, and let your body move the way it’s meant to. Just like we did there."

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight on your shoulders lift just a bit. "I’ll try," you whisper, the words carrying more determination than you thought possible.

Sunghoon smiles, a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture so tender it nearly makes you melt. "That’s all anyone can ask for," he murmurs, his voice reassuring.

You nod, feeling a newfound resolve build within you. As you sink deeper into his embrace, the world around you seems to blur, leaving behind the certainty that you’re ready to let go, to embrace the dancer you’ve always been meant to be.

After a moment of quiet, Sunghoon pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on your hips, grounding you. "How about we get you cleaned up, and then we run through it again?" he suggests, his tone light yet purposeful.

You smile, the idea of starting fresh with this new perspective sparking a sense of excitement in you. "Yeah," you agree, your voice steady. As Sunghoon helps you to your feet and fixes your outfit for you, you feel your heart burst with determination and adoration, both for ballet and the man in front of you.

You’re going to have to thank Mrs. Yang for this by giving the most passionate performance at the exhibition.

Maybe Sunghoon can keep coaching you until then. You do need to work on your flexibility after all…

---

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#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #aj writes #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

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writingsbychlo · 9 months

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BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy

summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.

word count; 8928

notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?

Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction.

Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat.

“Good day?”

“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”

“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations.

A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”

Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.”

He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there.

“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.

“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?”

The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official.

You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment.

It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games.

Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”

Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time.

Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either.

“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”

Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”

“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics.

You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.

“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side.

“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised.

The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you.

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”

The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.

The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over.

You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.

“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”

“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you.

A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.

Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.

The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room.

Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests.

Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled.

The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one.

You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it.

“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.”

She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately.

“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had.

“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of.

He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white.

You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness.

“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her.

“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”

Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you.

Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;

“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”

Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you.

“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return.

“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye.

“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go.

“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath.

“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”

He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.

The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you.

He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.

Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass.

He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course.

As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate.

Men did love a little attention, after all.

Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.

You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.

“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.

As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”

“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down.

“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar.

“It is, I think.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere.

When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”

You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”

“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”

“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.

“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”

“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.

“The theatre, then?”

Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”

“And you, Elliot.”

Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed.

You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.

You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch.

As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone.

To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through.

He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat.

His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low.

Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover.

Until, Theo spoke up.

“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.

“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.

“When?”

“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you.

“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”

“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”

“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”

“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”

Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”

“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”

“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”

“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.

You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth.

“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”

You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from.

You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair.

“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”

Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend.

“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.

Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after.

Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know.

It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”

“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”

Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one.

“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”

“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”

Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk.

You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return.

“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”

“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”

He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”

“That is up to your cousin.”

“Touché.”

You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing.

He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night.

As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”

“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”

“He’s not even here to listen!”

“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”

A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.

“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered.

Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”

“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”

It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you.

“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment.

“Yes, sir. That is correct.”

“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”

You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.”

You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them.

“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”

Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…”

Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away.

“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.

Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip.

You’d spoken to Draco’s parents.

They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment.

It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”

“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”

“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”

“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.”

Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”

The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”

Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps.

It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”

“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”

His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…

“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.

“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”

He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”

“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”

“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”

He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.

When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye.

“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”

“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”

Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you.

“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features.

“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all.

“‘We’?”

“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news.

“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”

“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more.

“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”

“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted.

“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.

“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”

“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes.

“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”

You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats.

Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left.

“Where are we going, Dray?”

“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice.

Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food.

The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face.

“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”

“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”

He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile.

“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow.

“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”

His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”

“You never gave me any other indication!”

“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”

The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side.

Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.

“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”

“Yes. I told her days ago.”

“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”

As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”

“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”

“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”

“Blaise.”

“The bracelet?”

“Theo and the Notts.”

At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”

“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”

“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Dray.”

He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy/reader #draco malfoy/you #harry potter #slytherin boys #tom felton #draco malfoy x y/n

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

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How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: All characters are 18+, this post is explicit smut. As if you couldn’t tell that from the title

A/N: Funny story, I forgot I already wrote this same concept last year… but since I didn’t realize until I finished writing this… imma post it anyways. But if you’d like to see my original thoughts on this topic, you can see them here with an additional 2 characters lol

Gojo Satoru

He is relentless, especially when he’s in the mood to go down on you. These little moods of his will have him between your legs for hours, multiple times a day. You always like to joke that he knows when you’re ovulating because somehow these little moods seem to fall in sync. If Satoru goes more than three days without you, it’s like he’s going through withdrawals. He’s skilled with his tongue, he’s able to move it in ways and speeds you didn’t know a man could. Typically he’s a tease, he’ll edge you until you have an orgasm so pathetic you can’t even call it one. Ya know, the kinds where you come and don’t feel that satisfaction, just the pulsating ache of needing more. But recently, Satoru discovered how much more fun it is to overstimulate you. He loves the way your finger’s bury in his hair and try to tug him off as he sucks on your clit until you’re sobbing and begging him to ease up. He’ll keep your thighs spread wide, large hands effortlessly keeping them in place while they desperately try and close. He’s also the type to see those “pineapple make’s your cum sweet” articles and come home with enough pineapples to feed a village. He’s not even embarrassed about his reasoning, even if it’s just a myth, his sweet tooth can’t pass up the opportunity. Satoru loves your natural taste, but you surprised him with edible lubes in various fruity and sweet flavors one night… you still recall seeing the sun rise.

Geto Suguru

He’s a god at eating pussy and you can’t convince me otherwise. Suguru has always been about your pleasure over his, not to say he doesn’t have his selfish moments, but your pleasure is just so much fun to him. He loves the noise, the facial expressions, the smell, the taste. The first time he went down on you, you were convinced he was lying about it being his first time. The ability just came naturally to Suguru. Like Satoru, Suguru loves to tease you. He’ll focus all of his attention on your dripping entrance, only stimulating your clit if his nose bumps it. He loves the way you squirm, his nails leaving crescent shaped nail marks in the plump flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. He loves your breathless gasps, his long hair tickling your thighs as he eats you out, only adding to the stimulation that’s making your toes curl. Suguru loves to make you beg, pulling his mouth away from your cunt to just barely flick his tongue over your clit. He’ll stop all together just to taunt you until you’re sobbing, begging him to do something. He has a whole album on his phone dedicated to you, most of the content being videos of him eating you out, some he even made you take just so he could see the camera shake with your effort to keep it straight and hear your noises better. He puts on a show for you, slurping and sucking and moaning just to feel your thighs tremble as you moan with him.

Nanami Kento

Eating you out is a stress reliever for Nanami… so it happens like very fucking day. Lord help me this man will spend hours edging you, cheek pressed into your thigh as he lazily licks and nips at your cunt. He can’t think about anything but you when he is between our legs, moaning and whining his name like a beautiful lullaby. He’ll let you cum eventually, but for the time being you are completely at his mercy. Nanami is the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, especially on nights where he comes home late and you’re already passed out in bed. He’ll make out with your cunt honestly, licking and sucking and nipping at your folds until he can’t tell if you’re wet from his saliva or your own arousal. The answer is both. He doesn’t care for any of the fancy shit, so don’t bother with flavored lubes or eating particular fruits to try and alter your taste, he just wants you and you alone. I feel like this man has a scent kink so the smell of your arousal honestly gets him going even more. He prefers eating you out in bed, mostly because he’s tired and nothing feels better to him than laying on his plush mattress while using your thighs as his pillow. He’s a whore for face sitting by the way, even less of his energy needs to be put into that, especially when you’re grinding your cunt against his tongue. Nanami’s other favorite thing to do is use his tie to bind your wrists, that way you really can’t interrupt him.

Fushiguro Toji

I had to restart Toji’s so many times because I got too aggressive. Listen, this bummy ass bitch will eat you out till the sunrises and he will make a fucking mess of you while he does it. Toji will eat you out and finger fuck you until you’re screaming. He’ll give you a “break” by stuffing you full with his dick and then get back to work eating you out again after he blew his load in you. Filthy bitch. He’ll eat you out anytime, anywhere, any position. He’ll never turn down the opportunity and depending on your relationship with him, this bitch may even charge you for his services. Which is just another way he likes to tease you, watching you whine and squirm while you cough up the money he wants. He’ll call you pathetic as he gets on his knees and basically rips your underwear off of you, commenting the whole time about how much of a whore you are… like he ain’t selling his body to you rn. This man will somehow make you feel inferior, but you can’t be bothered when his tongue is lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Toji will make sure your thighs and your cunt are swollen, bruised, overstimulated, and sore by the time he’s done with you. Your cunt is puffy from his sucking and biting, thighs littered in dark marks and teeth indents. He'd go as far as to find a marker and write “cum dumpster” on you if he was really in the mood to see you sob.

Ryomen Sukuna

Listen, you thought Toji could be mean? Sukuna is ten times worse. The thing is, the king of curses actually likes to eat pussy but he won’t admit it. But that is not to say he can’t live without it, Sukuna is selfish and really only prefers things that pleasure him in the process. But, when you’re sobbing, pathetically begging him to go down on you, he may just crack. Especially if you’re looking at him with watery eyes, swollen lips from sucking him off, your neck littered with bite marks and bruises. Oh, and, if you’ve made him cum, he’s more likely to agree and indulge you. If you manage to convince the king of curses to go down on you, don’t expect him to be easy on you. His nails are digging into the flesh of your thighs, blood dripping slowly as he eats you out with so much force it’s borderline painful. He’s using his tongue and his teeth, nipping at your folds and even grazing your clit with them until he can tell your sobs are a breathless mix of pleasure and pain. If we’re talking true form Sukuna, I promise you he won’t stop until you’ve blacked out. He’ll use one set of arms to hold your waist while the other set keeps your thighs spread. He’s forcefully dragging your cunt over the long tongue that protrudes from his stomach, occasionally stopping just to hold you still as he spreads you open and stuffs you with the same tongue, watching you yelp and moan as he toys with you.

Okkotsu Yuta

If you look up the definition of “pussy drunk” you’ll see a picture of Yuta. This man cannot go down on you without becoming delirious. Your body puts him in a trance, he can’t even explain the way you make him feel. Yuta is all about body worship and his favorite way to go about it is having his face shoved between your legs for hours. He’s just as vocal as you are while he eats you out, groaning and whining against your cunt until the vibrations are making your eyes roll back as you cum again. He’ll be kneading your thighs as he eats, squeezing them like stress balls and hitting nerves that send sparks of electricity all the way to your toes and all the way up to the base of your neck. Without even trying, Yuta will manage to overstimulate you until you’re unironically going cross-eyed, fingers twitching as they bury in his hair and try to pull him off so you can catch your breath. Yuta is still a bit shy when it comes to being intimate outside of the privacy of your home. But that doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom and eat you out against the bathroom stall. In this sense, he’s almost cocky when someone unknowingly enters the bathroom only to see two sets of feet in one of the stalls. Not to mention the noises are echoing. Yuta lives to see your eyes going wide from embarrassment as he doesn’t stop, your noises are uncontrollable as he tongue fucks you. The poor bastard who entered the bathroom with the intention of properly using it just muttered under their breath and walked out.

Itadori Yuji

Yuji is eager, so, so damn eager. He wants to do anything and everything that brings you pleasure so when it comes to eating you out, he’s determined to be great at it. Yuji is the type to ask you for “practice” or “lessons” which is just his way of indirectly asking if he can eat you out. Most of the time, it’s an offer you can’t refuse, because as fate would have it, Yuji isn’t bad at anything. He’s so praise focused, eyes glued to your face as he flicks his tongue along your folds and waits for you to tell him he’s doing good. He’ll slow down when your praise isn’t coming fast enough because he wants you to beg. Yuji is a sucker for adding fingers to the mix, as much as he loves making you cum with just his tongue, he sees no point in limiting your pleasure for his own confidence boost. Kind of contradictory since he likes when you beg. Yuji is also the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, just slowly lapping at your cunt while also rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to not wake you up until you’re coming. He finds it so pretty when you wake up gasping, completely unable to restrict any of your noises as you orgasm. It’s important to mention that Yuji is a sucker for 69-ing and face sitting, he loves, loves, feeling your plush thighs caging in his head. He can’t get enough of the way your body settles so nicely into him, no longer afraid of “suffocating him” by sitting all the way down on him.

Fushiguro Megumi

He won’t admit it but he loves to eat you out. Megumi is shy at heart so even if he’s been with you for years, he can still get embarrassed when telling you how badly he wants to go down on you. He’s focused when he does get between your legs, hands gripping your thighs or hips while his tongue laps greedily at your cunt. Megumi loves to tongue fuck you, just because he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you cum but enough to make you embarrassingly wet. He’s a bit mean at first, not willing to let you come until he feels you’ve earned it. He’ll stop abruptly just to sink his teeth into your inner thighs, not stopping until you’re gasping as the pain turns bruising. He’ll admire the teeth indents he’s left on your skin while his nails are scratching down your other thigh, tongue moving to wiggle against your clit until your hips are bucking. Megumi finds toys to be very hit or miss, but he’s found a love for stuffing you with a vibrator while putting all of his attention on your clit. Megumi’s preferred method of “torture” depends on his mood, either he’ll edge you until you’re begging or overstimulate you until you’re crying. He’s very private when it comes to these things… unless he’s jealous. Much like Yuta, he will not hesitate to drag you somewhere private while out in public to remind you of who you belong to.

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sanatomis · 3 months

Text

⋆౨ৎ˚ ──── 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄.

it's been on your mind for a while now. and, even though he's a little confused at first, it takes satoru very little time to warm up to your enticing offer.

დ content. fr3e use kink, cursing, female!reader, fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, consensual somnophilia, deepthroating, cum-swallowing, mentions of satoru eating it from the back <3

დ notes. second attempt at posting this on tumblr, don't mind me. it's crossposted on ao3 bc my previous attempts at posting all failed miserably (it never showed in the tags ://)

Satoru is confused. It doesn’t take you much time to notice that your softly spoken words have him quite rattled, as the results of them can so clearly be observed on his face. There’s his nose that scrunches up cutely, and a little tilt of his head to the left which comes accompanied by a few snowy strands of hair shifting across his forehead. A small furrow of his brows, the soft gnawing on his bottom lip. He’s thinking about it; mulling over your offer.

Three times, he tries to say something. His mouth opens once, twice, and it’s futile. Not a word escapes, and he takes a sharp intake of breath. You almost believe that, if you weren’t currently seated opposite him, he’d smack the side of his head a few times to make sure it’s still screwed on right.

“So, I just. . .” The third time really is the charm, it seems. Though, he never quite manages to finish what he was going to say.

“Just put it in, yeah.”

You finish it for him, you’re sweet like that. It does really seem as if he could use the help.

“Wh—whenever I. . .”

There’s a little voice in your head, chiming and chattering about how all of this is weird. It makes you nervous, and your fingers itch to play with your necklace to fight it.

“Whenever you want,” you confirm. It’s as if your heart has suddenly moved to your throat.

“Wha—what if you’re asleep?”

“I said whenever you want, didn’t I?”

He almost lets out a little squeak at the words you so casually give him. They surprise him, as they do you. Your last sentence wasn’t one spoken by your mind, and you shift in your seat as if it’d shush the part of you that did.

It’s as if you’re telling him what you’d eaten for breakfast this morning, not giving him permission to slip, bully and sheat his cock into your needy cunt at any given time of the day. Without needing to ask, too. Satoru can fill you up, stuff you full, and dump so much of his cum into you until you’re overflowing, and he can do it whenever he feels the need to—because he’s Satoru, and you love your Satoru.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a hint of apprehension laces his voice. Your heart almost swells at his concern, at his hesitancy and need to confirm your wishes; even if you’ve vocalised them so bluntly. “Maybe, think about it for a little long—”

“I have,” you interrupt him. As gentlemanly as he’s being, there’s no mistaking the darkening of his eyes. The pretty, baby-blues making way for something sinister. You suddenly don’t feel so nervous anymore. “I have thought about it. Way too much, and for way too long.”

A string of curse words tumble past his lips. They’re hushed, and quick, and from the way he, too, shifts in his seat you gather that he’s hard. Painfully so, if the bulge forming in his pants is anything to go by. Your relationship has existed long enough for you to know that drops of his pre-cum are staining the fabric of his boxers already—always so messy, your Satoru. The mere thought has you wanting to take him out, to put him in your mouth and lap at the sticky, white beads falling down his length.

“Please,” you plead softly, and watch how he stifles a groan at the needy, saccharine sound of it. You want more, more of that sound. Right next to your ear, preferably. “Use me, Satoru.”

There’s little you want more than that, little that arouses you more than that. The thought of Satoru taking you whenever he wishes, abiding by his whims and allowing him free-reign over your body—it instils a heat into your stomach, into your core. It makes you feel filthy, like a cheap whore picked up from the street; but you’d be his whore, and suddenly it all starts to feel like a dream. It’s Satoru. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. He’ll be gentle, and he’ll be kind, and he’ll stop as soon as you utter your safeword, and he’ll love you so much, even if he fucks you as if he doesn’t.

You have half a mind to ask him again, to plead, to beg for it again, as it almost feels as if he didn’t quite hear you. But, as soon as you open your mouth to do so, he immediately latches his lips onto yours. It’s messy, and sloppy, and entirely fueled by the frantic state his mind is currently in—but you don’t complain, and never will.

His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at the same time, and you feel him almost buzzing with excitement. Your teeth clash against one another at the force of the kiss, your tongues greedily seek the other out, and saliva gets swapped from your mouth to his, and vice versa. It’s dirty, and sticky, and almost brings you back to your high-school years, when he’d been all clumsy hands and feigned confidence on the night you’d lost your virginity to each other.

Satoru pulls back from your kiss first, and a small smile falls over his lips when he notices you chasing him. “Wait a minute, sweets,” he murmurs, forehead against yours. His breathing is heavy, as is yours, and you don’t want to wait a minute—you want him, now, tomorrow, and each day after that. “Are you. . .” He chuckles when you kiss him again, and again, and again. You only stop when he holds your head in place. “Are you completely sure about this?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Mhm,” you hum, and caress his cheekbone with one of your thumbs. Satoru melts in your hold, as he always seems to do. “‘S you, ‘Toru. I’m completely sure when it’s you.”

He lets out a shaky breath. There’s a storm of emotion behind his eyes, but all of them point to the same conclusion—he loves you. So much, you might even get sick of it one day; he’d told you as a joke, one born out of fear. But you won’t. You never will. And you think he’s starting to realise it, finally.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your forehead.

It’s delicate, and loving, and so opposite from the way he buries himself into you over, and over, and over again a mere five minutes after that. Satoru’s needy, and impatient, and so pent-up from your previous conversation that foreplay gets thrown out of the window.

He bends you over the couch first, that cute little ass of yours jiggling right in front of his face as he mounts you from behind. He slips in easily, with a pussy as wet as yours, and a cock as leaky and hard as his—the lack of foreplay almost goes unnoticed. Almost, of course, as the sheer size of him never fails to elicit a hint of a burn as he stretches you out. Nevermind that you take his cock daily, or that your walls are bound to carry his shape after the many years you spend with him.

The sounds that decorate your apartment are filthy, lewd, and borderline obscene, but you’re thoroughly obsessed with them. The slapping of his balls against your ass, the squelching with each passing thrust, the deep groans and choked whimpers Satoru releases next to your ear just like you wanted. Even your own moans, your own babbles, and your own whines add to the experience; the combination of sounds. And you love it, because it’s you, and it’s Satoru—and it’s the two of you together.

It doesn’t end after Satoru cums, nor does it after you do. The agreement between the two of you that was made tonight seems to have done a number on him, and he takes you a second time. On the balcony, where he puts you on display for the world to see as he fills you over and over again. And a third time, in your shared bed that’s never been safe from his affection and blatant desire towards you. And a fourth time, in the shower that was initially meant to clean you up, he decides to dirty you even further.

If this is the reaction he gives to the mere idea of using you whenever he pleases, you long for the time that he actually does.

It’s well past midnight when Satoru finally decides he’s done with you. You’re curled into his side, a shirt that’s way too large for you (but one that you swore you didn’t steal from him) covers your figure. You’re asleep. Tired, exhausted, and completely knocked out. He smiles. You’re so cute. A love-sick expression is stuck to his face, and it may very well become permanent if he stays looking at you.

One of his fingers reaches in-between your thighs, gently scooping up the remnants of his release. Satoru almost coos at the way your nose scrunches up cutely when he starts to finger it back into your pussy. It allows his digits to slip easily through your folds, and she sucks them in as soon as he reaches your hole. His cum doesn’t leak out this time. Not yet, anyway, but even if it does, he’s more than willing to repeat the process.

He sighs. Mind full of thoughts, but at least his balls are empty now. There’s a little huff escaping his lips, and he’s amused at his own comment. Satoru shakes his head, but the small smile remains nonetheless. Strong, yet gentle arms pull your body tighter against him.

You’re delicate, and sweet, and so precious to him; and he will do his best to take care of you. Use me, use me, use me. He kisses your forehead, his own eyes falling shut.

He will most certainly try to.

The very first time Satoru entertains the idea of indulging in your offer, is on a day where you’ve decided to wear his favourite lipgloss. It’s so shiny, such a cute shade, and makes you look so beautiful, but above all—it’s sticky. It’s sticky, and easily smudged, and he knows from experience that everything feels so much filthier when he steals a kiss from you with it on.

Without meaning to, thoughts of you wrapping those glossed lips around his dick, creating a mess made-up of spit, cum, tears, and thus that delightful stickiness from your lipgloss, enters his mind. The coloured shade will leave a perfect ring around his length, there’s no doubt in his mind. Your pretty face will be all dirty, smudged stains near the corners of your mouth courtesy of his fat cock. You will be a sight for sore eyes.

You’re talking to him, but Satoru can’t seem to listen. He’s enamoured by your lips, your soft-looking, plumb, and very glossed lips. He briefly feels pathetic, knowing that a mere make-up item has the ability to make his head spin to such a degree—but he doesn’t, as he quickly realises it only does so because it’s you that’s wearing it.

Fuck, he really wants to stuff his cock into your mouth.

Five, six, almost seven seconds pass before the realisation kicks in. If he wants to put his cock in your mouth, then he can. Satoru’s body moves on its own before he gets a chance to think about his actions, as is often the case with him, and it's not long before his large hand finds its new home on the back of your head. He falters briefly, watching how you quiet down, how your eyes widen slightly, but continues as he’s doing when you make absolutely no move to stop him when he gently guides your head down, and down, and down—until you’re right where he wants you.

A small gasp leaves your lips when he puts you on eye-level with his crotch. It’s quiet, and he almost didn’t hear it, but it makes him pause nonetheless. The hand on your head loosens its grip, and he hesitates as he looks down at you.

“Is this oka—”

The sentence never gets finished, forever interrupted by a sharp hiss as you take his cock out of his pants with such unabashed eagerness. It slaps against his abdomen, leaky tip staining the fabric of his shirt. Your previous conversation is all but forgotten, it seems, as you don’t waste a second in taking his hard, aching length almost entirely into your mouth. It all happens so quickly, and Satoru’s mind almost can’t keep up. All he did was think about filling your mouth, and now he’s actually doing it; the fat tip prodding near the back of your throat.

His hands are shaky, he notices, and so is his breathing as a small whine escapes when one of your hands goes downwards to play with his balls. “Fuck!” he curses, caught by surprise at the boldness with which you reached for that part of him. In his startle, his hands return to the back of your head, and your words make their impromptu return to the very front of his mind.

Use me.

He will, then.

Satoru isn’t at all gentle when he does. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he pushes you down onto his cock until your nose brushes against the soft, white hairs near his pelvis. Your poor little mouth is struggling, he can see, but he can’t seem to pay much mind to it; the sounds of you gagging around his thick length are too much of a pleasure to hear. The way he pushes you up-and-down nears the realm of brute force, and still you eagerly suck, and suck, and suck.

A particularly loud groan echoes through the room when he steals a glance at your small form kneeling between his legs. It seems he knows you well; you are a sight for sore eyes like this. There are tears in your eyes, and some of them have already fallen down your hollowed cheeks; hollowed, to make space for him. Your mouth is filled to the brim with his cock, and even though he can see you fighting for breath, you never make an attempt at catching it—as if you wouldn’t dare to deprive him of the please your throat gives him.

Satoru catches himself falling in love all over again.

He fucks your face harder, and harder, and harder the closer he gets to the edge. Deep groans, and slurred curse words join your symphony of muffled moans, and his hold on your head slowly starts to falter.

“‘M close, princess,” he mumbles, but that’s about all the warning he gives you. A few seconds later, he cums down your throat. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t need to. Not because you’d given him permission to use you as he sees fit, but simply because he knows you’re utterly obsessed with him doing so. “Fuck, f—fuck, look a’you, hm? Gonna take all of it like a good girl? Don’t waste it, m’kay? S’all for, fuck, for you.”

It’s something he’s done countless times before, but Satoru swears that each time he spills his cum down your throat feels better than the last. Thick, sticky ropes fill your mouth, and you hum around him when it keeps going, and going, and going. You’re struggling to take it all, and he huffs in amusement when bits of it start to drip down your chin. His thumb catches it, and he quickly places it back in your mouth, forcing you to open it wider to accommodate both the digit and his slowly softening cock. You happily do so.

He pulls out of you shortly after, with his chest heaving as he recuperates. His entire focus is on you, you, and you as he watches you wipe your mouth and swallow the last of his seed. There’s a smile on your face. It’s kind, and gentle, and innocent; almost as if he hadn’t just fucked your mouth and dumped his release down your throat. Satoru is utterly bewitched as he watches you, captivated by all and every little thing you do, and he cooperates as you tuck him back into his pants.

And then, as if nothing at all happened, you sit down next to him again—and you speak, you continue talking, finishing the story he’d interrupted with his need to be sucked off. Your voice is hoarse, and your cheeks are still stained with dried tears, but you pay neither of those facts any mind. It makes all of this look so. . . mundane. You were speaking, and then you were between his legs, and now you’re speaking again.

Satoru’s heart starts to beat even faster for you. Fuck, that’s so hot. This time, he decides to try his very best to listen to your tale about some co-worker of yours that pissed you off this week. He pitches in every-now-and-then, adding a low ‘huh,’ or ‘mhm’ to keep you occupied, and he almost feels guilty—guilty, because all his adrenaline-filled mind can think about are the future possibilities of using you.

“And, wanna know what’s the worst thing about the situation? It was my idea to get donuts for everybody! That harlot didn’t even want them initially.”

Satoru’s downward spiral is inevitable, and he finds himself falling victim to it more times than one would consider healthy in a mere seven days. He very quickly learns that he’s thoroughly obsessed with the notion that allows him to fill you up anywhere, and at any time. To him, it’s one of the highest honours.

There’s such confidence, such unwavering faith encompassed in your view of him. There has to be, if you’re willing to allow him such a thing. Thinking about it almost causes a cute pink hue to colour his cheek. . .you really do trust him a lot, huh?

He’s never been able to tell you ‘no’ before, and he certainly isn’t about to start. So, he dutifully listens to you and abides by your delectable request. To satisfy you, of course. There’s absolutely no other reason for his actions, and the way he breaches your dripping cunt with his leaky tip, all while soft breaths leave your lips, and your pretty eyes are peacefully shut, is simply to indulge you.

Use me. Use me. Use me.

Satoru curses, the crude words that tumble past his lips being plenty colourful. One of his hands settles on your hip whilst the other hikes your (or rather his) shirt up to provide him with better access. It’s your fault, really, that he’s currently sporting one of the hardest boners of the century. You were waiting for him, weren’t you? Waiting for him to return and bury himself to the hilt in that sweet, sobbing pussy of yours.

There’s no other reason for you to fall asleep with nothing but his shirt on. Not even panties covered your cute little cunt, your sticky folds fully on display and welcoming him home. Satoru wants to bury himself in it—in a multitude of ways if he’s being truly honest with himself. For now, though, he’ll stick to simply one.

“Shh,” he coos into your ear, delicately rubbing soft circles into your upper thigh with his thumb. You whine faintly, feeling his cock fight its way past your walls. He splits you open, stretching you just wide enough to slip inside. Your nose scrunches up cutely, and he almost rouses you from your slumber. “‘S me, really need you, baby.”

And that’s all he has to say. It’s me. It’s your Satoru. A gentle whisper of those words, and he gets to use you as he pleases. All of his previous worries, all of the near-boiling anger he felt at his previous meeting with the higher-ups washes away as soon as he sinks himself balls-deep into your pussy. Satoru groans deeply at the feeling, and gentle, stuttered declarations of love are babbled into your ear with each slow drag of his cock along your walls.

The garbled mesh of words that he deems too important not to say, even despite their poor enunciation, only ceases to exist a few minutes later—when he spills his heavy load into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. No, into that sweet cunt of his. Because, that’s who it truly belongs to, no? It’s his, to use, to spoil, to worship. You’d offered it to him so kindly, after all. And, well, Satoru has never been the type of person to turn down a gift.

. . . You unknowingly create a monster. It seems that even the mere idea of being allowed to use you as he pleases has him tip-toeing around the line of borderline insanity. As each time he sees you, he wants you. . .and each time he wants you, you let him.

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing at that moment. Even if you’re speaking, and he suddenly feels the need, no, the simple want for a blowjob. And even if you’re asleep, resting after what must have been a long day, you still allow him to slip his aching cock into you to satisfy the craving he’s had for hours.

Even if you’re busy setting the table, you don’t push him away, and you still allow him to bend you over the wooden surface, to sink to his knees and lick, suck, and kiss around his pretty pussy with his tongue. Simply because he wants to do it, and you really do so, too.

. . .And even now, when you’re cooking dinner.

There’s a certain cuteness about the way your brows scrunch in concentration, about the way you gently bite on your bottom lip as you prepare the food for the two of you; it nearly makes him feel guilty for feeling the secret desire to ruin such a lovely, innocent view. The word nearly is important, however, as he’s acutely aware of your need for him to do exactly that—and so, any sense of wrongdoing melts away, similar to snow underneath the sun.

He’s not quite sure what it is that you’re cooking, but it smells delectable. There’s an array of spices, herbs, and vegetables strewn around the counter, and Satoru knows he’ll be eating like a King in a few minutes. As for right now, though, there’s a different craving, a different type of hunger slowly making its way forward. He fears it won’t be one that’ll be sated by your lovely culinary skills.

“Smells good, baby,” he mumbles. It doesn’t take him long to settle himself behind you, large hands gently coming to rest on your hips. He sighs in the crook of your neck, and nudges the skin with his nose. “What’cha making?”

You answer. He knows you do, as he feels the vibrations of your voice underneath his lips, the soft hum feeling quite soothing as he kisses along the column of your throat, but Satoru can’t find it in himself to focus on the words you give him. His ever-loose hands roam eagerly down your body, and the previous loving, and delicate kisses along your neck turn sloppy, wet, almost, as Satoru dips one of his hands underneath the waistband of your panties. There’s a grin forming on his lips, one entirely too big and full of confidence.

“‘M startin’ to think you’re just always wet for me, pretty girl,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, fingers entirely coated in your slick the second he’d sunk them into your dripping cunt.

Your cheeks heat up, and you try to stifle a moan when he, so very, very slowly starts to move his fingers in-and-out of you. “I—I am,” you admit, and clench around his digits just as he’s about to take them out; as if it’s a last resort to keep them inside. “F’you, Satoru. Just for you.”

“Hm?” He hums, and almost huffs in amusement as he sees you trying to continue what you were doing so desperately, as if you weren’t being fucked on your husband’s fingers. Just for that—he rapidly thrusts his fingers back into you, harsher, deeper, and so much quicker. “Just for me, yeah, princess?”

“Y—Ah! Yes, yes,” you squeak, one of your hands seeking out some semblance of support from the kitchen counter. “Only for you.”

There’s an embarrassing sound hitting your ears, as each thrust of his absurdly long fingers is accompanied by your wetness squelching around them. You struggle to speak, to breathe almost, as he fucks you on his fingers. Satoru stretches you out, curling his fingers to find the spot he knows will leave you with those pretty tears falling down your cheeks, and to hit it over, and over, and over again.

There’s such a heat gathered between your legs, such a pleasurable source of warmth, and Satoru suppresses a groan as he’s once again made very aware of that fact when your walls clench around his digits. His cock twitches, and he lets out a shaky sigh as he grinds it against your ass. “You are, aren’t you? Hm? C’mon, baby, don’t be shy. . .be a little louder.”

You aren’t shy. You haven’t been for a while now. There’s a certain hotness in the way you moan so unabashedly, so utterly shamelessly whenever Satoru gets his hands on you in such a way—it’s as if you can’t ever get enough of him. It never fails to harden his cock even more, to make his balls feel achingly heavy until he ultimately empties them inside your tight little cunt. And you know so, which is exactly why you do it.

“‘M not,” you rasp out, one of your hands coming to rest on his wrist. The back of your head falls against his shoulder as you choke on a moan, seeking some very necessary aid to stay upright. “Please, I. . .’Toru, please.”

In all honesty, Satoru isn’t quite sure what you’re begging for. He knows it’s one of two options: either to cum on his fingers, or for him to push his thick cock inside your pussy already. There’s no desire to ask, however—he’d much rather make that decision himself. The hand that wasn’t currently burying three of its digits knuckle-deep into your pussy busies itself with his belt-buckle.

There’s a pitiful whine falling from your lips, one that’s released immediately upon the removal of his fingers from your cunt. “Shh,” he coos in your ear, instantly soothing your upcoming tantrum. You stifle the complaint you’d prepared for him, the feeling of his fat tip prodding near your too-eager hole quickly puts an end to it. “S’okay, pretty girl, just wanna feel you cum around my cock, s’all. . .Think you can do that for me?”

You nod, and rapidly so. “Mhm,” you hum, and open your mouth when he presents it with his soiled fingers. You clean them, suckling around them until each bit of your sweetness is gone. “Want to—really wanna cum around your cock, ‘Toru.”

“Of course, you do,” he breathes, and captures a quick kiss. And another. And another. And one more. It makes you smile, and that, in turn, makes him smile. When he does pull back, there’s as much love as there is lust dancing in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less of you, princess.”

Satoru is often greedy. There’s no such thing as savouring something with him—if he’s enjoying himself, he’ll be as gluttonous as he wishes. The exception is you, of course, as you always are to him. There’s no greater feeling than savouring you. It’s why he, more often than not, decides to fill you up slowly. To let his cock drag along your walls, to let your soothing warmth engulf him inch, by inch, by inch, until his firm balls press up against your ass. He does so this time, too.

Your long, drawn-out moan as he fills you up slowly sounds as if it were gifted to him by the Heavens, and Satoru’s cock twitches inside when he hears you mutter a soft fuck as you struggle to adjust to him. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve taken his cock, but the sheer girth of him still stretches you out—as it always does. Your husband loves you dearly, however, and waits. . .one second, two seconds, three seconds, and he doesn’t get any further before his self-restraint falters.

Satoru nearly pulls himself out of your cunt completely, only for him to fuck himself back inside so deeply—it has you place both palms of your hands on the counter to steady yourself. It startles you, as he hears you choke on a moan, but he continues. His movements are quick and rough, animalistic even, as he pounds into your cunt.

“Sa—ngh, Satoru, wait, I. . .” You interrupt yourself with a moan, the feeling of his tip near your cervix too sharp for you to properly finish a sentence. He’s so deep. It feels as if he’s in your womb, in your stomach—it feels as if he’s everywhere. “Fuck, I. . .f—fuck, ‘Toru. . .”

“Hm?” He breathes out, a groan slipping past his lips. “Want me to, fuck, you. . .” His rapid movements dial down. The self-control needed for it is enormous, but you’d asked him to wait—so he will. Some beads of pre-cum drip into your cunt, as if his cock was upset that he’d suddenly slowed down. “Wan’me to go slower, baby?”

“No,” There’s a small whine near the end of your sentence. It’s the absolute last thing you wanted him to do, even if you originally asked him to wait. “No, don’t, please, keep going. Need—need more.” You feel Satoru wrap both hands around your hips, as if he’s preparing for something. “Harder, please. . .”

“Harder?” He asks, and you don’t need to see him to know there’s currently a sense of smugness ruining his pretty face. “How hard do you want it, huh, sweets?”

Little more than the tip remains inside you, and there’s not a moment for you to mourn the loss of his entire girth—as all air leaves your lungs when he immediately thrusts back into you with a newfound vigour, with such force that it has you bend over the kitchen counter.

“Like, ah, like this, huh? That how you want it, angel?”

You don’t answer—you’re not able to, as Satoru uses the entirety of his thick length to steal your ability to speak coherently. Once again, you’re acutely aware of the sheer size of your husband. Satoru is tall, and big, and he likely isn’t even aware of it. It certainly doesn’t seem so, as he heads no mind to the way your feet are starting to lift off the floor. Each deep thrust has you inching further up the counter; his hands on your hips nearly holding you up and off the floor as he rocks into you from behind.

There’s little you can do, except take it.

The kitchen is filled with sounds that definitely do not belong there. Your wetness is prominent, the sound of it borderline embarrassing, and Satoru’s balls slap against your skin with each thrust. He’s relentless, and you want to cry. The good kind of crying; the kind that often comes accompanied with mind-numbing pleasure. You hiccup, and sniff, and try your best to stabilise yourself against the counter.

Though, your efforts prove futile once Satoru brings one of his hands to your front. You choke on a whimper as he cruelly pinches your clit, toying with it, flicking and rubbing it in the way he knows will get you off.

“T—Toru,” you warn him. “I—I’m. . .”

“Mhm,” he hums in acknowledgement, not letting up even for a second. There’s a featherlight kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Me too, princess. S’okay, let, shit, let go for me, yeah?”

And because he’s Satoru—your Satoru, you comply. It hits you all at once, and you’re suddenly very grateful for both your husband holding you upright, and your expensive kitchen counter for adding some extra support. You’re still breathing heavily, coming down from your high, when Satoru hits his own. It’s a familiar feeling, but one you’ll never grow tired of nonetheless.

You sigh in content. His cum fills you up rapidly, and to the brim. It’s hot, and thick, and trickles out of you even with him still inside—simply because there’s so much of it. The both of you are out of breath, and because of it, choose to stay within each other’s hold for just a little while longer.

Satoru could—and would—stay in this position for the rest of his life. . .but he’s quite sure that you’ve put a lot of effort in today’s dinner and he doesn’t want it to be for naught. With a deep sigh and a quick kiss to your cheek, he goes against every fibre of his being, and pulls out of you.

A shiver trails down your spine when he does so, and you let out a soft sigh in content. You’re still recovering, he notices. There’s a trail of his cum dripping out of you, though he wastes little time to push it back inside. Satoru takes matters into his own hands, and decides to place your panties back into place for you, too. It gets soiled by his seed rather quickly, but that’s a problem for later.

After smoothing down your skirt, he tucks himself back into his pants, as well. He’s by your side as quick as he can, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple.

It’s only then that he properly takes notice of all the stuff that’s been thrown around the kitchen. Pots, pans, vegetables, spices. It seems you really were busy.

And, as if he hadn’t just finished fucking you silly, he smiles.

“So, what are you making?”

#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru #sigh here we go attempt 209401 #please let it show in the tags this time #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader smut

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yuuuhiii · 4 months

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≡ should we kiss ?

includes : asking bestfriend!tr boys for a kiss, fluff, suggestive, hinting for something more???

notes: haven’t posted in a while! I’ve have so many whips but I can’t finish them AGH!

ken <𝟑

You’ve been hovering around Ken for hours. He said you guys would go check out that new fast food place that opened near his work. But he’s been tinkering with his bike ever since. You don’t know why you think of this and you don’t know why you tell him, but you do. You sigh for the millionth time and he smiles. “I’m almost done, I know you’re hungry.” He screws another bolt. “It’s not that.” He quirks a brow, “Then what is it?” You get up from your spot and plop down next to him, your hands resting on your knees. “Can I kiss you?” To his dismay, his cheeks redden every passing second so he turns away. “No!” He yells the tips of his ears and the nape of his neck flush red as well. “Jeez, you’d think since you’ve been raised in a brothel these things wouldn’t affect you.” You roll your eyes and he glances at you. Your lips are pulled in a pout and he can’t deny that they look so plump, so kissable. “Fine.” He mumbles, you hear him, but you tease him. “What was that?” You lean closer. “For fucks sake, I said fine.” He turns to you. He’s embarrassed but he looks cute like this. You lean in and place a peck on his lips, smiling against them. You pull away and smile widely again. “Can we go eat now?” “Y-Yea.”

takashi <𝟑

Takashi was your comfort person. In no way did you ever not feel safe around him or protected. He always attended to your needs and no matter how busy his schedule was, he always made time for you. As you walk into his studio, you’re rethinking everything all over again. However, when his eyes meet yours, your thoughts dissipate. At the sight of you, he immediately lightens up. He gets up quickly making his way towards you. “Hey you, I missed you.” He goes in for a hug, to which you gladly return. “I did too.” You smile and he gazes down at you with love . “Can you do me a favor?” You begin to blush and this interests him. “Of course, what is it.” His hands have drifted down, now clasped in yours, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. Maybe it was a little touchy for two best friends but neither of you minded it. “Can we kiss? I-I wanna practice, it’s been a while ya know?” You look down and he grins, it's a little unsettling. He seems amused and playful. “As long as you don’t kiss anyone else.” He whispers and when you’re about to question him, he kisses you. His lips are soft and he holds the nape of your neck with such gentleness. His lips move slow and agonizing against yours, leaving you wanting more. That’s when you feel his tongue prod at your lips making you jump back. “Takashi!” You squeal, red as a tomato. He laughs, swinging your intertwined hands, satisfied.

manjiro <𝟑

Now Manjiro has been your best friend for as long as you remember. Despite him going through a lot he had his moments where he’d be relaxed and not so monotone. Manjiro was a playful person at heart, you wanted to do something to bring it out. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him. See his face when you popped the question. The moment he sees you he sighs in relief. “Finally you’re here let’s go eat.” He moves to grab your hand and lead you out but you stop him. He turns around a little irked. “What?” He’s close to pouting. “Can I have a kiss?” You pucker your lips and he blinks. You didn’t even have enough time to register his lips on yours, the shock had you on autopilot. When he pulls away, you’re blushing. “You kissed me.” You say breathlessly. His brows furrow. “Yeah I was wondering when you’d finally ask me.” You’re still confused. However, he stands up straight, looking genuinely confused. “Are we not dating?” He blinks and your jaw drops. “D-Dating? You never asked me out? You never told me you liked me!” You flush and a small blush forms on his cheeks as well, more out of shame. “Shit, well I don’t know. Let’s go talk about this when we’re eating.” He rushes out, pulling you along with him. You both had a lot to talk about.

haruchiyo <𝟑

The line between best friends and something more was definitely thin for you and Haruchiyo. At least he’d make it thin. All of the time he’d make teasing remarks, and be touchy with you. You never questioned anything because you were comfortable with him. However, there was definitely something more. There had to be right? Why else does he stare at you with such admiration while you’re doing mundane tasks? You’re over at his house as he’s editing a YouTube video of his. You had just made him snacks and go to place them on his table. “Eat something, it’s been hours.” You swear you can see his eyes twinkle as he stares at you. Then your eyes glance at his lips, so pink and a little chapped. He notices your staring and blushes yet his brows rise. You bite your lip and break your gaze but he isn’t backing down. “Hey.” He calls out and you look at him again. Your mouth moves before you can think. “Can I kiss you?” He doesn’t hesitate with his answer. He pulls you towards him, straddling his lap. His hands rest on your waist as your lips connect, the both of you fitting like a perfect puzzle piece. Your hands embrace his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. It was a needy kiss like the both of you had been waiting for this moment. And maybe you both were.

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viulus · 1 year

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So I haven't been updating anyone on my BotW progress, not really, but I felt like doing that right now.

Last night I finally made my way up to my first Devine Beast (Vah Medoh), and with that I also got to see the first flashback with Revali, and... I think he deserved to die in the Calamity, actually

#vu's posts #botw #literally as soon as the cutscene finished i just kept saying #'what's that dude's name again? rivali or something? yeah fuck him he deserved to die'#he's SO annoying man #and i also kept saying to myself 'oh no is this gonna be A Trend with link flashback characters'#'where the girls adore him and the guys are having a metaphorical dick-measuring contest with him?'#'i do NOT need that comp-het in my life no thank you'#no but yeah fuck that bird bitch. i'm glad he's dead 😂💀#also adding him to my barfo list brb #ALSO. i CANNOT for the life of me figure out how to turn on the last three terminals in medoh 😵#there's one room where you gotta roll a remote bomb in #but like. i cannot get enough momentum going for it to roll far enough #i tried using a cube bomb and blowing that up next to it to give it some speed. that didn't work #also tried firing bomb arrows at it from that small hole. that just made the bomb fly off in a random direction #and then the room with the two fans? i have no idea what to do there #the first terminal in that room is on... but the second one? i have no idea how to open the door to even get to it #i thought that maybe the fan that can't be moved needs to be messed with? i tried stasis and bomb arrows on it #but to no avail #i genuinely have no idea how to progress 😭#probably gonna just give up on medoh for now and do something else... i might figure it out eventually #va4 rambles in the tags

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spectorgram · 27 days

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FAN BEHAVIOR

characters: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake summary: batboys with a celebrity! reader content/warnings: fem! reader, fluff

DICK GRAYSON

You’re an actress who has had a meteoric rise, moving from doing small, one-off parts in TV shows to becoming a breakout star on a particularly popular series to being cast in major movie productions

Your stardom is still a little surreal to you and when you’re invited to a wayne enterprise charity gala, you contemplate not going — what business do you have being somewhere with people far more famous than you? But when you tell your agent this, she gives you a look that says you’re insane for even considering declining

You’ll forever be grateful that she urged you to do so because that’s where you meet Dick

He’s standing with Bruce Wayne, chatting with some frequent donors, dressed in a perfectly-tailored navy blue suit when he sees you out of the corner of his eye and he lights up. He approaches you first with that megawatt smile and introduces himself with an extended hand and says, “I’m a huge fan! I’ve been watching your stuff since you were in Legends of the Kingdom!” And the rest is history

Dick goes to every red carpet event you invite him to and he makes it a point to attend every private premiere screening and public opening night

He definitely shushes anyone who talks during your movies or TV shows and does not care if people think he’s obnoxious.

You’re definitely the ‘it couple’ and your faces are plastered constantly on magazine covers and two-page spreads

There are people who try to sow discord in your relationship and their go-to is either pointing out how different you are to Dick’s former girlfriends; that you’re not his type, that this isn’t going to last, etc., or that you’re not talented enough for the fame you have or to be dating Dick Grayson

It definitely gets to you and does nothing to whatever lingering imposter syndrome you harbor but Dick is such a grounding force, reminding you that it’s all just noise and that he loves you completely and unconditionally

At home, he likes to rewind your scenes in shows and movies, and it flatters you as much as it flusters you

He also likes to read through scripts with you when he can and his voices for the various other characters bring you to tears from laughter

So many intentional and unintentional thirst trap couples pics. Like, a selfie you post one morning — Dick is shirtless and you’re in one of his old t-shirts and its sliding down your shoulder and showing your collarbone and you’re both laying on your stomachs in your shared bed, hair sleep (and sex) tousled with the morning sun making both of you look like you’re golden and glowing

JASON TODD

You meet Jason as Red Hood first when you’re running from the paparazzi but you don’t know it’s him

They chase you down a couple of blocks before someone tugs you into an alleyway and you’re about to scream for help when you see who it is. Red Hood shields you as the paparazzi pass and when you ask him why he helped you, he simply says, “I hate the paps and you looked like you needed a hand.”

Once he’s sure the coast is clear, he walks you back to your hotel using the back alleys of Gotham. You make several attempts to strike a conversation up with him in the first few minutes of your walk but what seems to catch his interest is when you start rambling on about just finishing Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment.

You’re disappointed when you arrive at your hotel and you’re rush inside to find a pad to scribble your number on but he’s gone when you return, disappearing into the night

It’s by chance that you meet him again (unbeknownst to you), this time in his civilian identity as Jason Todd. You’re in disguise at a bookstore in Gotham when you bump into him and spill his iced coffee all over both of you, apologizing profusely and offering to buy him another drink, which he accepts. (His voice is oddly familiar to you but you can’t put your finger on why)

You two keep in touch and start dating privately. The long-distance is difficult at times given your very different and busy schedules and Jason is pretty cagey about what he does but you both make time for each other as much as possible

He tells you that he listens to your music during his workouts and in the background while he’s doing stuff around his apartment. He hums along too.

He recommends your songs to anyone who listens, which raises suspicions in the Batfam, and it obviously doesn’t take long for them to figure out that he’s dating you but he makes them promise to keep it to themselves.

Whenever you have a concert in Gotham, which you make a point to do frequently, Jason is in the VIP box, bobbing his head and mouthing along to your songs. When it ends, he’s right there backstage with flowers and a thermos of tea for your throat

Your relationship goes public when fans capture of video of you two leaving one of your concerts together, Jason’s leather jacket draped over your shoulders

You eventually move to Gotham to be closer to him and the two of you spend every free moment either of you have together, making up for lost time.

You still try to keep your relationship as private as possible but fans eat up any crumbs they get, including the occasional selfie of you both

He is your biggest inspiration for songs and also your biggest help. You love bouncing ideas off of him and he likes sitting with you when you pick at your guitar strings and mumble a half-formed melody

(You eventually do find out that he’s Red Hood when he tumbles through the window of your bedroom, bleeding profusely, and you have to take his helmet off to assess the damage)

TIM DRAKE

You’ve known Tim since you were kids given that your parents ran in the same social circles

You started out as a child model in department store clothing catalogs. Tim did some shoots with you too but while his parents eventually stopped auditioning him for such jobs, you continued until the present day, and you’re now a well-known supermodel

You two have been friends forever and the internet laps up your interactions together. There are compilations of videos and photos of the two of you at banquets and red carpet events and memes with text like “when will someone look at me like that?”

Before you two even started dating, there were articles about a supposed romance and sexual tension between you two. In interviews, you would vehemently deny anything asked about it and reiterate that you two are just good friends

At some point, however, you start seeing your childhood friend in a different light. He’s kind, brilliant, funny, attentive, and very handsome. It’s not that you didn’t know that before but it’s different now. You find yourself shying away his casual touches and suddenly conscious of your actions around him — did you laugh too loud? Is your hair in your face? Does he know how you feel? Can he tell?

You don’t want to ruin your friendship, as cliche as it sounds, so you did your best to keep your feelings under wraps, which resulted in you distancing yourself. When Tim would text to congratulate you on your latest Vogue cover or runway show, you would simply shoot a simple ‘thanks!’ text back instead of the usual ‘THANK U’ followed by five heart emojis.

He confronts you about it one day and you’ve never really been a good liar in front of him so you tell him, bracing for a gentle rejection but instead receiving a kiss.

You made a hard launch post with him on Instagram and received hundreds of DMs of people saying they were vindicated in believing that “friends don’t look at each other like that”

Tim is in the front row at every single runway show you have, dressed impeccably in an expensive suit. He takes pictures of you and visits you backstage with your favorite sweet treat.

After fashion shows and other events, you return to his apartment to let your hair down and put your feet up. You do your skincare routines together, sheet face mask and all, and snuggle on the couch for some TV or just to hang out and talk endlessly

You’re very active on social media with him and you two have a lot of couples posts together. When you both have time, you do Instagram lives where people watch you two make dinner together or answer some questions from viewers. A fan favorite is when you choose outfits for each other.

During a runway, you blow a kiss at Tim in the audience and the camera zooms in on his face, where he just watches you with a lovestruck expression and bright red ears — it’s in almost every video compilation that’s titled something like ‘15 minutes of Tim Drake being a simp’

#✶ nove writes #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #nightwing scenario #nightwing imagine #red hood scenario #red hood imagine #red robin scenario #red robin imagine #dc comics imagine #batboys x reader

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nana-gumi · 7 months

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devoted f.toji

pairings: fushiguro toji x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, arranged marriage, illness, inaccurate descriptions of heart disease (just did some research lol), megumi is 5 years old, mentions of abuse, some kissing, mentions of pregnancy, drinking, toji is giving mixed signals, suggestive themes, lots of cursing, happy ending. wc: 18k

a/n: this was a filo au that i posted on tiktok, but due to problems posting on tiktok, the story wasn't finished and now here it is with an ending!! sorry for the long wait my tiktok readers 🥹 i'm sorry if the ending did not meet your expectations :') will post the angst ending soon

despite the years his past wife died, he still couldn't move on. it's up for the fate to decide if you could change him.

happy ending | alternate angst ending

being an outcast in your family is the worst. you were forced to marry someone who's like you.

toji fushiguro, an outcast in his family and both of you were forced to marry each other. you've heard rumors about him. mostly bad ones. his father's company is famous after all.

toji have a son from his deceased wife. the time you met his son, megumi, you thought the kid will hate you but it was the opposite. he welcomed you, even told you that he was happy he finally has a mother.

you and toji never really interacted with each other that much, only if needed, like family gatherings or when megumi is around. who would want to show a kid that you're not interested with each other, right? but when it's just the two of you, both were completely a stranger to each other. there were times were you wanted to start a conversation because sleeping in one bed was awkward especially when there's no conversation at all.

you did start a conversation at some point but toji's presence was intimidating enough to shut you up. as time passes by, you're getting used to his presence. he seemed to be scowling at all times but you noticed that, that's just how he is. you continued to interact with him until you and him finally got comfortable with each other, where good morning and good nights were exchanged. but then you've grown attached to the man, especially his son.

when you asked toji why his last name is fushiguro, he told you that it was his deceased wife's last name. toji still refused to bring back his last name which is supposed to be zenin. he told you that his family once forced him to use zenin again but toji simply ignored them. even though toji was an outcast, none of his family couldn't argue with him so he kept the last name fushiguro while you stick with your own last name.

being an outcast, you didn't feel any love from your family and the simple things toji showed you made you feel loved. that night he let you borrow his jacket when it started to snow unexpectedly, those times where he makes extra coffee for you, he would even let you hug him if you have nightmares and most of all, he defends you from your family.

that's what you loved, no– love about him. but you wonder, does toji feel the same? and the answer was already obvious. toji only accepted the marriage because he doesn't have a choice. they will remove him from the business his family owns and he doesn't want that because he needs money for his son, megumi. he promised his deceased wife that he'll take care of megumi after all.

and you adore toji for that. sometimes you think, will toji cherish you the same way he does with his deceased wife? even if his wife died many years ago, he still have the love he has for her, as if she's still around to feel it.

you were currently laying on the couch as you hug yourself for warmth. it wasn't an argument with toji, but you just want to be left alone for now. the words "i love you" accidentally slipped out of your mouth, and you didn't mind if toji doesn't reply and you just hoped he didn't reply to it at all.

"i love you, toji." you whispered, enough for him to hear and his eyes looked guilty as he looked away from you.

"you shouldn't." toji replied. "you'll just hurt yourself."

"i know."

"you know we're married only in papers, we already decided to be just friends." you already know that, but you couldn't just hold back anymore, and of course he would say that. toji thinks no one could replace the love his deceased wife showed and gave him. she was there at his lowest point, she comforted him, told him the words he doesn't know he deserves to hear and toji just couldn't open his heart to love someone, at least not anymore. his wife was enough, megumi addressing you as his mother is enough, even a part of toji doesn't want it.

you glanced at the ring he's caressing on his finger. it should be the ring you placed on his finger on the wedding day but instead, it was the promise ring his wife had gave him. your heart couldn't ache anymore. you're so used at the empty feeling that it doesn't hurt you anymore.

"i'm sorry.." you mumbled as you excused yourself, deciding to just sleep on the couch. there you've grown to realize that being attached with toji fushiguro was the biggest mistake you'll ever done but you'll never regret.

you woke up with a shuffling beside you. you opened your eyes and saw megumi with his small blanket on his hand as he frowned at you.

"mama, it's cold." megumi said as he hurriedly draped his blanket above you.

"it's fine, megumi." you smiled at him as megumi tucked his small body on your arms.

"mama, did papa make you cry?" megumi asked and you pinched his nose as you disagree with his question.

"no megumi, mama fell asleep here while watching." you said.

"okay, i love you mama." megumi said and it has been minutes since he said those words and you were still silent that it made megumi look up at you.

"mama, i love you." he repeated with a hushed tone.

"i―" it was as if you choked on something as you embraced the child. "i love my baby too." you muttered.

after that conversation with toji, everything feels weird as if it's reminding you of your place, that you were forced to marry toji to strengthen your family's bond with the zenin's.

"papa loves you too." megumi mumbled and you just hoped it was true.

toji's mother suddenly visited that day without a notice and toji wasn't around. his family doesn't really hate you but there's always a weird atmosphere around when you're close with them. just when his mother asked where toji was, he suddenly came back from work.

you knew he went here in rush, and the way he wrapped his arms around you as his lips came in contact with your forehead made your heart flutter. but you reminded yourself that it was only for a show. his mother smiled at the scene as toji sat beside you on the dining table.

"what brings you here, ma." toji asked in an annoyed tone.

"i just wanted to visit my grandson." you excused yourself a bit as you made your way towards the kitchen to make them something to eat and drink, and when you came back, the question you and toji were avoiding got asked by his mother.

"when do you plan on having another child?" she asked.

"no plans yet, we're to busy to have another child running around. megumi is enough."

"it's been a year since you're both married. why not give it a try?"

"ma―" you cut toji off before he could say something harsh to his mother.

"we did try it, ma, but it didn't really work so we decided to just wait for the right time." you answered, lied for toji and his mother seemed to buy it.

"ok.. but i am getting old, toji. we need to see a female granchild too." she said before excusing herself to go to her grandson who was playing. toji huffed at her mother's response as he stood up from the chair.

"i am sorry about that, toji." you said because as much as possible, you wanted to avoid answering that question too. toji sighed as he left the kitchen to get changed and when he went back to the living room, his mother was about to leave.

finally. he thought.

"just give it a try." toji's mother told you as she went inside her car.

"why'd she go here without informing me." toji muttered as megumi sat between you and him on the couch, showing the chocolate his grandmother gave him.

"i was surprised too."

"that's fine, thank you for covering up for me." he said as he stood up from the couch and took the chocolate on megumi's hand while carrying him. megumi whined in surprise as his father carried him like a sack of rice as you slowly followed behind.

"papa!" he exclaimed, kicking and punching but it was no use.

"come on, we don't want mama to get mad for eating to much sweets at night." toji said. he wasn't talking about you, you know that.

he placed megumi down beside the refrigerator as he placed the chocolate inside.

"too much sweet is not good for you." toji said as he carried megumi once again.

you just finished washing the dishes as you walked past megumi's room, and their muffled voices made you eavesdrop at their conversation, and you maybe you just didn't.

"megumi, why are you being so stubborn? you don't want mama to get mad right?"

"mama doesn't get mad at me!" megumi yelled as you smile a bit at his words.

"megumi, did you already forget your real mama, hm? she'll be sad in heaven. you want that?" toji said and his words was like a needle that was continuously poking at your chest.

"huh? but mama is here." megumi said, pointing at the door.

"look, (name) is just a replacement for your mama, but your real mama? she loves you, her love for you couldn't be replaced by someone."

"even (name)?" megumi said, and the way he addressed you by your name, you admit hurts. you took a deep breath as you felt a sharp pain in your chest. but that's fine, you're already used to it.

"yes, now go and sleep okay?"

"okay."

megumi started acting awkwardly towards you the next day, he was trying his best to avoid your gaze, maybe even you. he would stutter through his words between calling your name or 'mama'.

"bye bye, (name).." megumi looks away at you as he held toji's hand.

"bye bye." you replied as you forced a smile and megumi looked back once at the front door as they finally left the house.

"papa, i don't want to see mama sad." megumi said as toji placed his seatbelt. megumi might be a kid but he can clearly understood human emotions. when he called you by your name earlier, he saw how your smile disappeared but then you covered it up by a forced smile, and you just let him call you by your name.

"she's not sad-"

"yes she is."

"you don't understand, megumi." toji said and megumi only kept quiet because he knew arguing with his father is useless.

megumi jolted awake. he fell asleep after being in school the whole day as he searched for your presence. he had a dream, a really bad one and he found you in your and his father's room, talking to someone in your phone. megumi heard a sob coming out of you. you said something that megumi couldn't quite hear as you finally ended the call. he watched as you wiped your tears with your palms and took a deep breath. megumi silently close the door as he went back to the living room, sitting patiently as you appeared on his view.

"oh, megumi. how was your sleep?" you asked as you kneeled infront of the boy. megumi observed your eyes, they were a bit red.

"it's fine, mama." you were taken aback. he's calling you mama again. you smiled as you cupped his chubby cheeks.

"are you hungry?" you asked and he nods as you guided him on his feet. he didn't let go of your hand.

"mama, i love you. you're my one and only mama." you felt megumi's small hands squeeze your big ones, as if he's reassuring you of something.

"i love you too, my one and only baby. now let's go and prepare dinner!" megumi noticed that your mood shifted, and he was proud of himself that he was the one who brought a smile on your face.

it's unusual for you to wake up with toji's arms around you. you knew toji didn't do it on purpose, he was drunk last night and you just want to indulge the moment, even just for a minute or even seconds. you felt toji moved and you immediately stood up from the bed.

why do you feel guilty? it's not like you and toji were cheating on his wife. but that's how you felt. toji was still sleeping as you sighed, placing the blanket above him as you went out of the room.

"good morning, mama!" megumi greeted as he closed his ipad off.

"morning, 'gumi. what do you want for breakfast?"

"anything you cook!" he answered as he sat on the kitchen stool, watching you prepare the ingredients you needed.

"pancakes or rice?"

"rice!"

"okay." you laughed at his energetic response.

"mama can we buy art materials later? my teacher said we'll do arts on monday."

"sure, let's go out after we eat."

toji heard you and megumi talking as he arrived the living room. and just as he was about to enter the kitchen, your body bumped on his chest.

"oh, i was about to wake you up. breakfast is ready." you said, about to went back to the table but toji held your arm to stop you for a moment. he placed his other hand behind his head as he looks away.

"did i said something weird? last night." he asked as you look at him for a moment before you shake your head left to right. toji sighed in relief as he let go of your arm, both of you sitting on the kitchen stool. you look at toji, and he looks at you, but you couldn't meet his eyes as you smiled at megumi and place the food on his plate.

you just finished brushing your teeth as you were disturbed with a loud thud outside the bathroom.

"toji? are you there?" you called.

it was as if your soul went out of your body for a second, toji appeared infront of you. a curse slipped out of your mouth as toji's weight fell on you.

this was your first time seeing toji drunk, even your first time encountering a drunk person and you really don't know what to do so you tried your best to pull him with you in the room since he was so heavy.

once you opened the door of your room, you and toji fell on the ground. does his wife encountered this event a lot of times? if so what did she do?

toji was whispering something. you couldn't quite hear him as you placed your ear close to his mouth, the smell of alcohol getting stronger than it was and he was apologizing. you were confused as you move away from him.

"toji, i can't carry you anymore." you said, trying to wake him up as toji's eyes slightly opened.

"my wife." he whispered, you don't know if that certain beat in your heart was because he called you his wife or maybe because he mistook you of his wife.

and the next words he uttered is what you didn't expect as he suddenly placed his hand on your cheek and you were completely frozen in your spot as he continued to speak.

toji's hand finally slipped from your face as his head fell on your shoulder and you sit there, processing the words he said just a minute ago

he didn't mistook you as if wife, he indeed called you his wife and it warmed your heart.

"mama?" you were out of your thoughts when you felt megumi's hand above yours. "are you okay?" he asked as you look at him and then at toji.

"i'm fine, what was it again?" you asked, facing megumi as he smiled at you.

"papa will go with us later!" he said.

"oh? is that so?" you said as you look at toji, waiting for his answer.

he laughs at your reaction.

"looks like you don't want to?" he joked.

"it's not like that! it's always just me and megumi, since you're always busy.." you responded.

"yeah, today's a day off." you cursed internally. you have an appointment to the doctor today, you thought taking megumi with you would be fine, but toji? what reason should you tell him? you couldn't possibly say that you have a family meeting. no, you don't even have someone you can call a family, except for this two. plus toji would be updated if there's a family gathering.

maybe you'll ask the doctor to move appointments.

"are you sure? though i'm not sure when my schedule's gonna be clear again, (name)."

"it's fine choso, i can wait, just update me."

"sorry about that, i'm busy these days plus yuuji's been wanting attention too."

"is that so?" you said as you smile. "i want to meet him soon! looks like he's a good kid."

"soon, i'll bring him to the hospital with me."

"okay, see you next time then?"

"yeah. and (name), don't stress yourself too much, it's bad for the heart." you smiled at his words.

"of course, thank you. bye."

"who's choso?" startled by the voice, you immediately hid your phone behind you.

he was eavesdropping.

toji raised his eyebrow at your reaction as he opened his cabinet.

"a friend of mine."

"really? didn't know you have a friend." toji said in a voice you couldn't recognize, it was as if he's mocking you. you scoffed at him, deciding to just ignore his words.

you were about to leave the room but toji's voice stopped you.

"if you're starting to date someone, don't inform megumi about it. or he'll be sad." he said, mumbling the last sentence as you left. did toji really thought you were dating someone even if you're married already?

sure everything is one-sided, but you just don't have it in you to date someone, not when toji already has your heart, your everything. even if he doesn't know it. but you think it's better for toji to assume that choso is something in your life than choso just being an appointed doctor.

toji was too drunk when he got home and he think he just saw his deceased wife, but when he approached the person, it turned out to be you.

toji noticed that he was at the bathroom and felt your hands on his arms as you place it on your shoulder. he felt drinking that day, he wanted to forget everything or maybe when his wife appeared on his dream last night, the words he told her. he didn't want to wake up that night.

toji already forgot her face, her voice, how her hands felt on his. he already promised that they will meet again. in next life or in another universe. it doesn't matter where, as long as he could meet his wife again. but his wife told him in his dreams that he should move on, and he couldn't just do that.

toji did saw your efforts. he saw how you care for him, especially megumi. but he couldn't just stop himself from comparing you to his wife on his mind. no one could ever replace his wife. toji squinted his eyes, he saw you trying to pick him up.

"toji, i can't carry you anymore." but your words was a blur to him.

toji's hand twitched and moved on its own as he sat up from the floor.

"i'm sorry, i can't." he muttered as he placed his rough hand on your cheek, observing your eyes as he leaned his forehead on yours. "i can't love no more. i can't love you the same way. i'm sorry."

toji was the man of your dreams.

he might not know it but toji saved your life, he saved you from the hands of your greedy parents.

"i can't love you the same way, i'm sorry." the way he said those words were filled with guilt.

sometimes you put yourself on his place. if you were the one that has a past lover who died, of course it'll be hard to move on, especially when that person made you feel love and gave you the world.

toji was miserable back then, not until he met her. she fixed him. just like you and toji, you met him and he fixed you. the only difference was they loved each other. she loved him and he loved her, while you love him but he was stuck in the past.

there were times where you watch him sleep, not in a bad way, but just want to admire him where you whisper your love for him. he won't hear it of course. his dreams must be more entertaining than the words you're whispering to him.

toji's words that night made an impact to you. everything he does for you, you started viewing it as him just doing it for kindness and not for love. maybe toji just doesn't want to hurt you further because he knew how badly your family treated you back then. you were on the same page after all.

now you realized that maybe it was bound to happen, that being married with toji is enough, being a mother figure to megumi was enough. he already did enough for you, for taking you away from your hell life. you'll just pay him back by doing what you should for him and megumi.

you'll just love him silently. you'll bury your feelings deep inside your heart that only you, yourself knew. maybe wait for him to finally acknowledge you. but you knew it wouldn't happen this time around.

for now, you'll just watch him love someone who wasn't even around anymore.

toji was showing you a picture of his past wife because you asked him to see her. she looked a lot like megumi, but a female version. now you know why toji fell in love with her. even in the picture, it was already obvious that his wife was kind and a loving person. but you're kind and a loving person too, aren't you? the universe is so unfair.

"this is when she was 7 months pregnant." toji said as he pointed a specific picture. you smiled at his words as you continue to listen to him. but toji suddenly went silent all of the sudden and closed the album as he cleared his throat.

"why, did you want to see it?" he asked as he placed the album back inside his drawer.

"just curious, she looked a lot like megumi." you said as you lean your head on your knees, facing him. "how did you meet her?"

"it was an arranged marriage too." he said. "i wasn't really favored with it but i don't have a choice." toji smiled. how can a person like her make him smile like this when you can't? "she was simple, i suddenly fell in love with her." toji said with adoration in his voice as he looked at you.

you sighed as you lay flat on the bed and started stretching your arms.

"ah, i wonder if someone would love me that way too." you sighed as you turned your back on him.

"you will, but that couldn't be me." he said straightforwardly as if reminding you that you couldn't change his mind anymore and it made you curl yourself on the sheets.

"are you and that choso dating?" toji asked as you turn to face him. he was leaning his back on the headboard with a laptop on his lap.

"no? why'd you assume we're dating?"

"you've been going out a lot these days, i just thought."

"are you okay with that?" you asked.

"of course." and he didn't even hesitate which hurt you more. "i mean, maybe he's the one you're looking for?" toji said as he closed the laptop, the surroundings being engulfed with darkness, the bright moon outside being the only source of light.

but you're already here. you wanted to say those words but you already knew what he'll respond to it. toji lay flat on the bed as he placed his arms behind his head while you were still facing him.

"not gonna answer my question?"

"oh? what was it again?"

"i said maybe choso is the one you're looking for."

"toji-"

"i just want what's best for you, y/n. you know, i can't really.."

"toji, i already know that. choso is just a friend, nothing more, nothing less." you said followed by a sigh. "at least just let me be by your side." you whispered, hoping that he heard even just a bit of it.

"if you insist, but i already warned you." toji said.

"i know.." toji was just beside you, but he's far within your reach. has it always been like this? every night, you and toji always ends the day with a conversation, same question with the same answers and toji will end up with his back facing you. every night, you couldn't sleep. only whispering those three words to him hoping and praying that he'll hear it and say it back.

every i love you's that was whispered were left hanging on the air. sometimes it was tiring, thinking of the words toji said that maybe he wasn't really for you and you weren't the one for him.

"good night." you mumbled.

"good night." he replied and everything was dark.

i love you, toji.

those words you utter to yourself every single day and night, hoping that he'll say it back, maybe just once, and it might heal the void inside your heart. but not a single day he said it back.

toji felt guilty but he shouldn't be feeling this way. you were just married on papers and already agreed that being friends was enough. yet he couldn't help but watch as you curl yourself, as if seeking for a comfort he knew he couldn't give you. he apologized on his mind, he couldn't say it out loud because he knew how it would hurt you more, so he just stayed silent.

toji switched off the lights as he lay comfortably to the side with your back facing him. he doesn't know how long he's been closing his eyes but sleep just couldn't take over him.

"i love you, toji."

he froze on his spot and his body tensed as he heard you whispered those words. he then felt your fingers caress the scar on his lips.

"i'm sorry if you ever feel guilty for not returning my love for you. but always know that i understand you." you whispered and your touch disappeared on his skin as he felt your warmth get close to him. "i'll keep waiting, maybe someday.." minutes passed, toji was still waiting for you to say something but you were already silent.

he opened his one eye and the first thing he saw was your back, there were a space between you and him.

is it always this far? are you always this far from him? toji doesn't know. he tried to reach for you but he stopped himself. and then again, another apology had slipped on his mind. he couldn't say it back, not when he swore to only say those words to the person he loves.

toji finally closed his eyes as the sleepiness take over his body. he knew that the one for you, who'll cherish you, love you like how you deserve it will eventually come and toji was already certain that it wasn't him.

it was really true that first love never dies now that you've experienced it and toji was enough proof. you couldn't stop loving him the way he couldn't stop loving his past wife. how can you even wish someone to just die when they're already dead? it was weird but were you too cruel for that?

you just hope that someday, toji will look at you the way you've always been wanting and craving. you'll wait, even if your and his hair turns white or even if you only have enough time to live.

"just this once?" you whispered as toji held your cold hands as he placed it on his cheek.

toji closed his eyes as he placed your hand back on the bed, hospital bed.

"i'm really sorry.." he whispered back and it was enough for you to hear it.

a small laugh left your lips. it's so hard even to laugh now.

"that's fine, at least thank you for being here."

"i'll say it if you want."

"don't say something you don't mean, toji." you smiled at him.

"yeah, i guess so."

you sit up from the bed as you wake up. it was just dream, but it felt to real for it to be a dream.

you couldn't help but cry as you cover your mouth as you felt a hand on your back.

"what's wrong? another nightmare?" toji asked. even in your dreams, in your death bed, toji still didn't love you. even in your deathbed, toji still couldn't love you the way you wanted it. maybe it was sign that toji doesn't have to know your condition.

he doesn't need to know.

"it's nothing, let's go back to sleep?"

you went out again. toji heard you talking to someone on the phone, he guessed it was choso. he didn't mean to follow you but he still did.

toji ended up following you on a hospital and he was confused. are you sick? toji asked himself, but you always looked fine.

he anxiously tap his finger on the steering as he waited for you on his car and it took you more than 30 minutes to finally come out of the hospital again.

why does that doctor have to send you out? even placing his hand on your back.

toji watched you enter your car. he waited for you to leave before going out of his car to enter inside the hospital.

he was hesitant as he finally arrived the front desk.

he cleared his throat as he faced the lady infront.

"is there a patient named (name)?"

"(name)?" the nurse repeated as she looked down the lists but your name wasn't there. "i'm so sorry but there is no patient named y/n here."

"ah, mr. fushiguro. did (name) send you here?" toji turned around at the voice and he was met with the same doctor he saw outside the hospital. toji's eyebrow furrowed as he fully faced him. "i'm choso by the way, y/n's doctor. i guess she already told you?"

"mama?" you heard as you enter the front door.

megumi approached you as he embraced you.

"did you just woke up?" you asked as both of you went back to the living room.

"a while ago.."

"where's your papa?"

"i woke up when he left."

"he left? but he said it's his day off today." you mumbled as you recalled his words. "anyway, what do you want for breakfast, gumi?"

as toji entered the house, yours and megumi's muffled voice can be heard at the front door. it looked like you and megumi is having fun. toji finally entered the kitchen and saw you with megumi baking a cupcake.

"papa!" megumi exclaimed as he jumped down the stool to approach his father, the icing on megumi's clothes being transferred to toji's clean ones.

"welcome back, toji. where have you been?" you asked and it suddenly smelled like cigarettes.

she looks fine. toji thought, but he was trying to stare at you as if it'll reveal something.

"toji?" you called him with concern as he snapped out of his thoughts.

"just went out. who's that for?"

"mama said she wants to try baking!" megumi answered.

"is that so?" toji said as megumi hummed in response.

toji looked at you once again, but his stare was making you uncomfortable. there's something weird about the way he looks at you and it was scaring you.

"i'll rest for a bit." toji said as he left the kitchen.

"mama, did you and papa fight?" megumi asked as he approached you.

"no megumi, he's just tired." you smiled down at megumi to reassure him and he warmly returned your smile.

toji didn't left the room that day.

you lay down beside him, still minding the space with both of your backs facing each other.

you heard shuffling behind you but you paid no mind to it. and when you turned your body to the other side, you were surprised to come face to face with toji.

"hey." you started as you slightly move back to create more space. "are you not hungry? there's still left over from the kitchen.

"i'm fine." toji replied with a low voice as you nod at his words.

"good night, toji." you said as you went back to face the other side again.

you were waiting for his reply but minute passed, he was still silent so you took a deep breath and sighed while closing your eyes. but the moment you closed your eyes, you felt him move close to you. he tucked his arms below your body and then the other above you as he easily pulled you close to him.

"good night." he replied as you look up at him with shock. did he just initiate a physical touch? he's not drunk, right?

"mhm." you simply replied, still surprised. toji didn't move away after that, he stayed still and so were you.

"are you drunk?" you asked that made toji open his eyes.

"i'm not. why asking?"

"well, it's- is this okay with you?" you asked and your voice was too small that toji almost didn't catch it.

you were out of words. it was weird for toji to act this way, especially when he's not even drunk. does he need something from you?

it hurts to think that he's only being affectionate because he needs something from you. either way, you'll still do what he'll ask you because you love him.

"are you not comfortable with it?" the way you immediately stopped him when he was about to remove his arms around you was a desperate move, but you didn't want to lose this chance because it might not happen again.

"no, i like it.. it's just, we've never done this before, shouldn't you be the one who's uncomfortable with this? i mean-"

"shh, let's just stay like this." toji murmured as he pulled you a little more close to him. his warm breath fanning on your neck.

you smiled but if felt like something was missing. you felt complete but at the same time you're not. you placed your hands on top of toji's that was around you as you give it a light squeeze.

"toji." you called his name in a whispered tone as you heard him hummed in response. "i'm not her, toji."

you didn't know why you even said those words. toji was hugging you but there were possibilities of him thinking his wife on you. because why would he suddenly do this if not for that?

as those words left your mouth, the warm presence that was comforting you suddenly disappeared. you weren't even surprised when he did that, just a tiny bit of ache in your heart.

heh, i knew it. but it's fine, i still loved it. you thought to yourself as you ended up curling your own body again, seeking for the comfort that was there just a while ago.

maybe someday, toji will hug you again, but that time, you hope he'll do it as him thinking of you, not while thinking of his deceased wife.

"i'm choso by the way, (name)'s doctor. i guess she already told you?"

"hah?" toji rasped in confusion as he looked at choso. so this was choso and he's a doctor.

not bad. toji thought.

"then why are you here, mr. fushiguro? your wife left just 5 minutes ago."

"i know." toji replied.

choso raised his eyebrow at the man in front of him.

"do you perhaps need something from me?" choso couldn't help but ask because the way toji looked at him was different.

"yes, i want to talk to you."

both of them ended outside the hospital where there were no people around.

toji slammed his hand on the wall, slightly embarrassed as he watch the doctor laugh in front of him.

"what's funny." toji rasped.

"sorry, sorry-" choso replied as he pants, he never had a good laugh these days. "mr. fushiguro, are you assuming that your wife is having an affair with me?"

"i didn't mean it that way, i was just asking if you and (name) have something."

"mr. fushiguro, ms. (name) is just my patient, i'm sorry if it came off that way." choso said as he leaned his back on the wall. "plus i know my boundaries, i wouldn't go with a married woman, y'know." toji calmed his body as he leaned his back on the wall like choso did.

"she's always talking to you on the phone, that's why i assumed."

"(name) told me a lot about you."

"i'm hoping it's the good ones."

"not even once your wife badmouthed you, mister." choso replied as he offered toji a cigarette to which he declined.

"she's not sick, is she?" toji asked.

"mhm, your wife was diagnosed with arrhythmia."

"arrhythmia?" toji faced choso at his words.

"her heartbeat is irregular, mr.fushiguro. are you not taking a good care of your wife?" choso tried to joke him but he didn't expect toji to stay silent. "well, i hope she's not lying when she said she doesn't smoke and drink?"

"no, she doesn't." toji said.

"anxiety or any emotional distress can cause this. are you perhaps having a lot of fight? her condition has been like this for a long time now."

"no, we don't fight." toji said "is it harming her that much?" toji asked

"for now, it's not. but if she doesn't take a good care of herself, it may lead to a heart failure."

"how to avoid this?" choso looked at toji in disbelief. did you seriously kept it a secret to your husband?

"toji." you called him as he was about to leave the house. "i'm sorry about last night." you said.

you frowned as you heard the front door close. toji was ignoring you. you felt guilty for saying those words last night but you just couldn't hold back anymore. it was hurting you. why would you say that when toji only wanted to be close with you?

you sighed in defeat as you turn around, continuing the dishes you were doing.

you knew how toji hated it when it's about his wife, yet you still brought it up.

"toji!" you scolded.

it was yet another night where he came home drunk, you're almost starting to get used of this scenario.

"i said don't touch me!" he yelled back as you stumbled back a bit from the force of his push.

you were getting scared. not even once toji had yelled at you, this was the first time. was the words you said really did have an impact to him? now you feel more guilty than you were. you were scared that toji would start looking at you the way your family did.

only because of the stupid words you said.

"toji." you said in a more calmer tone as you guide him on his feet.

"let go." he mumbled.

"i will. let's go to the room first, okay?" you sighed in relief when toji did what you said without saying anything.

"mama.." toji's voice must've woke megumi up as he look at you with concerned eyes.

toji shrugged his shoulders to remove your hand on his shoulders as he kneeled infront of megumi.

"megumi, mama's not here anymore." toji said.

you were taken aback but megumi was more surprised than you were that he started crying.

he was pushing toji away from him as he cry.

"i hate you!" megumi yelled as he finally free himself from toji and hugged your leg.

"it's okay, 'gumi. go back to sleep." you said as you kneeled on megumi's level while he cried in your shirt.

toji stood up by himself as he entered your shared bedroom, closing the door with a force as you flinch in surprise.

"mama." megumi cried.

"it's fine now, he's just tired."

"you say that a lot of times." megumi said as he wiped his tears. "let's sleep together, mama." you look at your room door as you nod at megumi.

maybe toji needs to have his time alone for now.

you were humming a lullaby as you sing megumi to sleep.

you already sang the lullaby 3 times already and just like you, megumi couldn't sleep at all. he knew you were crying but he decided to not talk to you.

megumi pretended to be asleep as you finally stopped humming.

he heard you took a deep breath as you pulled his small body close to you.

"night night, 'gumi." he heard you whispered as he felt the dip on his bed beside him disappear.

megumi squinted his eyes and saw you walking out of his room as the door finally closed leaving him inside his now dark room.

megumi sat up from his bed as he silently followed you.

he was tiptoeing as he followed you to the kitchen.

you were sitting there, a glass of water between your hands as you stare at nothing.

you were too drained as you wiped the remaining tears your eyes could release.

megumi was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear you walking on his way, but before you could caught him, he showed himself to you.

"megumi?" you called him, slightly surprised at his presence. "what's wrong?"

"um water, mama." he said as he noticed you smile a bit before giving him a glass of water.

"all good?" you asked as megumi tucked you and himself on the blanket as he hug you. he nods in response as he sighed in content.

"mama, i will tell papa tomorrow to say sorry." he said.

"it's fine, 'gumi. he's just tired and mama understands." you said as you brushed megumi's hair with your fingers.

"okay, i love you mama."

"i love you too, now go back to sleep you have school tomorrow."

when megumi woke up the next morning, you were still sleeping beside him. he kissed your tear stained cheek as he went out to start his day.

he found his father on the kitchen counter, holding his head with his hand.

toji noticed megumi's presence as he immediately approached his son.

"where's your mama?" toji asked as he placed his hands on megumi's shoulders.

megumi noticed that his father was restless, but he deserved it for yelling at you last night.

"say sorry to mama, papa." megumi said.

"ha? where's she?"

"in my room. mama was crying because of you!" megumi yelled, he almost wanted to cry as he recalled your unreadable expression last night. "i saw mama drink so many medicine, papa." megumi muttered.

toji massaged his temples as he made his way to megumi's room with megumi following behind.

toji slowly opened the door and sighed in relief as he finally saw you.

megumi's small blanket couldn't even cover your whole body as toji approached you and gently carried you to the bed, transferring you to your shared room.

"let's not wake up mama for now." toji said as he pats megumi's head. "i'll drive you to school."

"papa." megumi called as he fixed the seatbelt of the front seat. toji hummed in response as he waited for the street lights to turn green. "do you hate mama?" megumi was hesitant at his question.

"no." toji responded plainly.

"but you always make mama cry." megumi mumbled. "you always say that she's not my mama and it's hurting her. i always see mama cry, i just stay quiet." toji ignored his son as he started driving.

toji went back home after sending megumi to school and you were still sleeping.

he sat on the bed as he tried to recall anything that has happened last night but he couldn't remember anything.

he felt you moved as he look at you. you were finally awake.

you saw him as you sit up from the bed.

"good morning." you greeted as you rubbed your eyes.

toji was waiting for you to say something about last night but you didn't and instead smiled at him as you stretched your body.

"megumi!" you exclaimed as you realized that you were supposed to send him to school.

"i already drove him to school."

"ah really? thank you." you said as you finally relaxed your body. "then, what do you want for breakfast?"

has it been always like this? toji asked himself as he watched you prepare breakfast.

is it always like this the next day when he came home every night he's drunk?

you were all smile but this was the first time toji noticed that it was forced. is it really always like this?

toji wasn't the one to get nervous but when he recalled the nights he came home drunk, he couldn't recall anything.

he must've said or did something hurtful to you that you do not wish to tell him the next morning.

megumi was always a witness to it but you always tell him to stay quiet.

"i'll go out later." you said as he snapped out of his thoughts.

"okay. want me to accompany you?" toji noticed the way you immediately declined his request and there, he exactly knew where you're headed.

toji watched you drink the hot chocolate in your mug.

"(name)." he called.

"mh?"

"i'm sorry. if i ever did something last night."

not just last night, every time he comes home drunk, toji would say something hurtful and you were even convinced that he means some of it.

the first time he came home drunk, he told you he couldn't love you the way you love him and that was fine for you. but second time he came home drunk, he said the words i love you, but it wasn't for you. he said i love you but not your name in it. the third night he came home drunk, he compared you to his wife saying that you couldn't replace the role of being megumi's mother and you know that.

megumi was there and he cried with you saying that he loves you and don't listen to what his father said to you. but then it happened again. he watch his father get mad at everything, including you, his mother who just wanted to help him get to bed. he knew his father wasn't in his right mind because he was drunk. he cried with you again that night.

megumi got used to seeing you hiding your sobs from him. he already saw you cry silently or sometimes you just sit there to stare at nothing. megumi once caught you breathing heavily on the bathroom and there was a blood on the sink. you told him that it was nothing and megumi was just a kid, of course he would believe you that it was just nothing.

but as megumi continues to grow, he's starting to think that his father hates you. he started observing the two of you and there was nothing wrong with your relationship, except when his father is drunk. don't get megumi wrong, he still loves her real mother but you were the one who raised him. he haven't seen his mother once, only in pictures.

"(name)?" you snapped out of your thoughts as you looked from your plate to toji.

"i said i'm sorry." he said.

"it's fine, you were drunk."

"so i did said something, huh." toji cursed under his breath as he heard you laugh.

"don't worry, it's not that deep."

it was. but remembering it will only hurt you more.

you've been having nightmares these days and you don't know if it's a sign for something. every dream you had was weird. there were times where toji would appear in your dreams. sometimes he hates you and sometimes, he loves you that you don't even want to wake up anymore.

you were currently sitting inside a hospital room as choso stood meters away from you.

"are you even taking a rest like i told you to?"

"yes."

"then why is your condition getting worse?" choso's words made you look at him, he was writing something on a paper.

"really?"

"really. (name), i am telling you this now, you'll suffer the consequences if you don't listen to me."

"but i do take rest."

"taking rest isn't enough, you should avoid your heart from getting tired. have you experienced panic attack these past few weeks?"

"n-no."

"you're lying."

"i'm not."

"your husband's worried, you know." you don't know why choso words made your heart clench, but you just hope his words were true.

"really?" you said as if you weren't convinced. choso looks at you and back at the paper as he sighed.

"i'll add another medicine, make sure to take it on time."

"why do we have to do these things?" you said as choso looked up from the paper to you.

"what do you mean?" choso asked as he raised his eyebrow at you.

"i mean, isn't better to just wait until it's over?" choso got silent, clearly surprised at the words you said. you noticed his reaction as you released a nervous laugh. "what am i even saying.." you said as you laughed at yourself.

"are you even hearing yourself?"

"i know what i said, choso. but don't worry, i was just joking."

"not a funny one. you just don't know it (name) but your husband's really worried."

"if you think your words would calm me, it's not working."

"huh?" you stood up from the seat before choso could say something.

"i guess we're already done here?" you said as choso nods.

"(name). take a proper rest."

you fell asleep the moment you got home and when you went downstairs, it was messy.

the television was on full volume and megumi was nowhere to be seen. toji was on the kitchen sleeping, there was a consumed bottle of liquor beside him.

"toji." you shake him to wake him up but it didn't work at first try so you did it again.

he was awake all of the sudden as he look around the kitchen. toji was drunk again as you thought of the things that happens every night he came home drunk. you hope he would just stay silent and wouldn't say anything anymore.

"let's get you to bed." you said as you helped him stand up but before you and toji reached the room, you fell on the floor as you entered the room. and the scene was so familiar to you.

"(name)." he called as you snapped out of the memory. "(nameee)." he called again.

"i'm here." you said.

"you're here?" he said as he touched your face as if he doesn't believe you. "you're really here." he said as he smiled and embraced you.

and you, you were taken aback, but you just let him.

"why did you leave me?" he said.

there he goes again.

"hey, look at me." he said as he held your cheeks with his thumb and pointer finger.

why does looking at him hurts.

"don't ever think that i don't love you, okay? i'm so grateful that you're here.." you were waiting for it. for him to call his wife's name but you didn't expect that he'll say yours. "if i started loving you, are you going to stay?" he said and you were speechless. "i'm sick of people leaving me." he mumbled as he embraced you. "i don't want you to leave. i promise, i'll love you like how you want it. i'll do it, i'll move on from her but in exchange, don't ever leave, okay? we'll heal you, you'll be fine."

what was he even talking about? it's not like your leaving or something, right?

you sighed, brushing off his words as you placed him on the bed.

"don't force yourself to love someone, toji. go to sleep, i'll look for megumi."

you were about to leave the house as you heard sobs coming from the house. and when you followed the sound, you were surprised to see megumi who tucked himself at a kitchen cabinet.

"mama!" he said as he embraced you.

"megumi, what are you doing inside the cabinet?"

"i'm hiding." he frowned as you wiped his tears.

"from who?" you said with a soft voice to calm him.

"mama.." megumi mumbled as his voice slightly cracked. "papa said you'll leave us."

"he said that?" you said as you kneeled into his level and he nods at your question. "he's lying." you said as megumi sighed in relief and embraced you once again.

"papa said you'll leave just like my real mama." megumi pulled away from the hug as he saw your surprised expression. "it's not true, right? mama."

your forced a smile as you pinched megumi's cheeks.

"of course, mama won't leave. never."

"toji, can you drive megumi to school today?" you muttered as you saw toji who was about to leave the room.

"what was that?" toji asked as he closed the door once again and approached you. you sit up from the bed and your vision started to spin.

"bring megumi to school." you said followed with a small cough.

"yeah sure." he hesitantly said.

"thanks." you mumbled as you lay back down on the bed.

"you okay?" toji asked as you felt him sit on the bed.

"i'm fine, must be a fever." you said but toji wasn't convinced and placed the back of his palm on your forehead to your neck and you were burning. toji was about to say something but he felt your cold hands on his.

"i'm fine, don't worry." you assured him with a smile as you let go of his hand and faced the other side. you were burning but your hands were too cold.

"i'll be back." toji said, immediately leaving the room as you heard the doorknob clicked.

toji was back after sending megumi to school. megumi insisted on seeing you before leaving but if he found out you're sick, toji knew megumi wouldn't want to go to school anymore. you weren't in the room when toji entered.

he started looking for you around the house and the kitchen was the last place he expected to see you. he sighed in relief when he saw you sleeping on the table with a glass of water in your right hand. toji's eybrows furrowed as he silently approached you. he can hear your soft snores as he went closer and closer.

"(name)?" he said in a whispered tone and you woke up within a second as you look around.

"oh?" was the only word you let out as you felt toji's hands on your shoulders. "i fell asleep."

"what are you doing here?" he said as you tried to stand up but you failed. you don't have the energy even to stand up.

"i got thirsty but i got tired before i even drink water." you said as you finally drink the glass of water.

"you should see a doctor." toji suggested.

"i'm finee." you said as you let toji guide you back to the room.

slowly, you sit from the bed as toji helped you to lay down. he placed a blanket above your body and went straight to the bathroom inside the room. he went back with a wet towel and a bucket of water as he started wiping your face with it.

"thank you." you whispered, even your throat was hurting. toji didn't respond as he continued on his task and after that, toji took another towel and placed it above your head.

"toji." you called as he stopped at the door he just opened.

'can you stay please?'

how badly you wanted to ask him to stay with you, but the dreams you had before started replaying in your mind. maybe you shouldn't. "it's nothing." you said as you pulled the blanket above your chin.

toji seemed to notice your distress as he silently closed the door and approached you again.

"i will be back. i'll just buy you food." he said as you covered your whole body with the blanket.

"okay." you said and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling.

do you have to be sick for toji to look out for you? maybe being sick is not that bad after all.

toji came back after five minutes, it's not that you're counting though, you were just bored.

"where did you go?" you asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"i'll just order, what do you want- i mean, you can't eat anything for now, let's just order a soup." toji looked at you as he heard you laugh at his words.

"there's no need, toji. it's not that hard to cook a soup." you said as you sit up from the bed, only for toji to push you back down on the bed as you let him place the blanket above you.

"don't be stubborn."

"toji, don't tell me you can't cook a soup." you said.

"it's not like that, okay? i just-" he paused for a moment before turning his back on you. "you seemed like you want a some company, that's why i am here." he said.

speechless, that's how you describe yourself now.

"is that so?" you said as you watch him scratch his head.

"i'll do this on my own way, okay?"

"okay. but let me, i know exactly where to order a good soup."

"this looks plain as hell." toji said as he opened the soup you ordered.

"but it's delicious, and why are you complaining?" you said as you raised your eyebrow at him. "i'm the one who's gonna eat it, not you!" you exclaimed as toji huffed in response.

toji started pouring the soup on a bowl before placing a chair beside the bed. and for a moment, you look at him and he looks at you.

"it's fine, i can do it myself." you said, trying to reach the bowl on his hand but he moved it slightly away from your reach. he hesitated for a moment before taking the spoon on his finger.

"ahh." he instructed.

"toji, this is embarrassing." you muttered as you move away from the spoon.

"how are you gonna get better if you're being stubborn?"

"just let me!!"

"tch, let me handle this." he said as you, again, tried to take the spoon from him but it was useless so you did what he said as he slowly placed the spoon with soup in your mouth.

it was quiet as toji continues to feed you, until it's the last spoon of the soup, you suddenly let out a cough as the soup dripped from the corner of your mouth and to the duvet.

"oh." you mumbled as toji reached out for the tissues. "sorry." you mumbled as you started to wipe the soup on the blanket and then the corner of your mouth. "we have to change blankets, i guess."

it was too sudden that you didn't have time to process everything when toji leaned close to you. you can feel his hot breath on your cheek as he pressed his lips on the corner of your lips, with him tasting the soup he just fed you.

you were sure you were losing your breath as he pulled away as if nothing happened.

"ah, sorry." he said as if he just didn't kiss you. he started to gather the paper bag of the soup earlier and took the blanket on your hands. "i'll get a new one." he said as he finally left the room.

why is he acting so normal when you're there sitting on the bed, trying to calm your speeding heart at the moments earlier.

you cursed under your breath as you hide your face with your palms.

why are you even embarrassed when kissing is normal to a married couple? it was normal but it was unusual for toji to act like that, you haven't even hold hands with him but a kiss? that's way more unexpected.

toji gently closed the door of the room as he leaned his weight on it.

"fuck." he muttered as he clutched the blanket on his hand.

seeing you wipe the soup on the blanket with that smile on your face urge toji to do that. he himself didn't expect it too. he cursed once again before proceeding to the task in hand.

you were startled when the door opens.

it was toji carrying a new blanket.

"i'll pick up megumi soon." he said.

"what about your work?"

"i took a day off." you hoped he did because you were sick. "you can't be left alone." he said as if he just read your mind.

"oh. thank you."

"not a problem. make sure to do the same when i got sick too." he joked, but it didn't fail to put a smile on your face.

"of course, i would love too! but i'm not saying that i want you to get sick!"

"mama!" you can hear megumi's voice from afar as he finally entered your room, throwing his lunchbox bag somewhere as he approached you.

"megumi, don't get to close." you said.

"mama! are you okay?"

"megumi, stop yelling." toji said as he entered the room, picking up megumi's lunchbox bag he threw minutes ago.

"you said mama is not sick!"

"megumi, don't yell at your papa." you said as megumi finally faced you, his face turning into a frown as he faced his father once again.

"i'm sorry, papa." he muttered.

toji was impressed that you could make megumi easily obey you. a thing he couldn't do when megumi was 3 years old.

"come on, change into your home clothes." toji said as he carried megumi like a sack of rice.

"i'll be back, mama!" he said before he and toji disappeared from your view and toji came back after a minute before closing the door with a sigh.

"come and rest." you said as you pat the empty space beside you.

toji sat beside you as the surroundings became quiet. he cleared his throat as he took the plushie megumi bought you and squeezed it.

"i'm sorry." he said.

"why?" you said, completely confused at the apology he just uttered.

"earlier. i didn't mean it."

oh.

"w-well, it's fine." you said as you conceal your stutter with a cough. "it's not like i'm complaining.."

"ha?"

"i mean- don't get the wrong idea!" you said, trying to find the right words. do you say it's okay, i liked it? or it's okay, i enjoyed it? "but.. did you regret it?" you asked, and the tension suddenly became heavy.

he was quiet and must be thinking about it.

"i did-" he paused, and that small pause sure made you nervous. "not?.." toji said in a questioning manner. you felt nervous and relieved at the same time.

"what about you?" he asked and you were more than confident at your answer.

"no. if i'm being honest, i really.. liked it." the last sentence were whispered.

"was that your first kiss?" he asked and you only hummed in response. it was true that toji was your first kiss, even if it was just a peck, his lips still touched yours.

you felt toji shift on the bed as he faced you.

"come closer." he said and you hesitated for a bit as you finally faced him and crawled a bit closer to him.

you were looking anywhere but his eyes as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. and then he's leaning close again.

"tell me to stop and i will." he mumbled, forcing you to look in his dark blue eyes.

"toji, are you sure about this?" you mumbled as you clutched your pajamas under the blanket. "don't do something you'll regret, toji."

he cuts you off by finally kissing you and it wasn't just a peck like you expected it.

he continued and deepened the kiss, until you're laying on the bed and when he finally pulled away, his hands was between your head as you clutch his clothes on his shoulders.

"toji-"

"shh.. i do not regret any of it."

"i need to confine you for 15 days, so i could monitor you properly."

"but i am resting!"

"yes you are, but it's not enough. it's better if it's being observed that you're taking a rest."

"is there another way?" you said as you clutch your phone in your hand. "i actually don't know how to tell my husband." you said as choso looked at you.

"but i already called him. he said he's on his way here."

"huh, what do you mean?" you said, completely surprised that it made you stand up from the chair. "he doesn't even know that i am sick." you said. "choso, i told you to keep it a secret right?"

"i'm sorry, he accused us of having an affair. i needed to." and then there was a knock on the door, and you knew who exactly it is. toji entered the room and you look away from him.

"take a sit, mr. fushiguro." choso said as he instructed him to sit beside you. you weren't looking at him but you can feel toji's burning gaze at you. choso left the room for a moment and being alone with toji became suffocating right now.

you suddenly felt his hand above yours. you thought he would judge or even get mad at you but you but he didn't.

"we'll talk later, okay?" he said as choso finally came back.

"15 days? if that's enough. as long as you treat my wife." toji said. he's doing all the talking while you sit there in silence and.. he really did call you his wife.

toji thanked choso after that as he held your hand and pulled you with him. you gave choso a last glance, a glance as if he just betrayed you and he was looking at you with his apologetic gaze, and there, you and toji left the hospital.

"when did you found out?" you asked.

"a few weeks ago. i followed you." toji said as the signal lights turned red and there was a faint sound of music in the background. "why didn't you tell me?" he asked and you hesitated for a moment as you sit up straight on the front seat.

"choso said it wasn't that life threatening, that's why i thought i don't have to tell anyone." you were mumbling that toji almost didn't understand your words.

"not life threatening but now you need to be confined for 15 days?" toji said and you went silent. "do you not trust me?" he suddenly asked and you immediately disagreed at his words.

"no!" you said. "sorry, i just don't want to be a burden and.. i thought you wouldn't care." you said, whispering the last sentence as you wait for his response. and he didn't respond anymore, until both of you reached the house.

"toji, i'm really sorry." you said and he finally looked at you.

"we're in this together, why would you think i wouldn't care?" he asked and you frowned.

"i'm sorry toji. i just didn't have enough courage to tell you because.. it's because of your wife."

"my wife?" he scoffed, raising his eyebrow as you nod.

"i don't know how to tell you because all you could think of is your wife!" you were frantic as you explain, trying not to say the wrong words because it might trigger him in some way as your emotions get the best of you. "i thought you wouldn't care because i'm not her." you said as you look down on the ground, trying to hold the tears that was eager to come out.

"but i do care, this is not about her. this is about you."

"you don't understand it, toji." you said.

"then i apologize if i came of that way, that you thought i wouldn't care because all i think of is my wife." toji said, emphasizing the words with sarcasm. "but you're my wife too, my wife now." he said, the sarcasm dropping on his voice.

"but i'm not the presence you've been wanting for, i know my place, toji. you reminded me a lot of times already." you said.

when did talking about your illness turned into fighting over his deceased wife?

toji sighed at your response and you took a step back when he stepped forward.

"i'm sorry, i want to be alone for now." you mumbled as you went to your shared room.

you and him were fine just last night? what happened now? it was all because of your stubbornness. it was obvious that toji was worried and cares for you but you're pushing him away.

you couldn't help it, you aren't used at him caring for you. you're mistaking his kindness into something, that maybe he's saying all of it out of pity or guilt.

that's right, now you realized why toji was weird the past few weeks. it's because he already found out and he just didn't tell you.

toji forced the door open with a key and he saw you sitting at the edge of the bed. you didn't even notice him until he sat beside you.

"i'm sorry." you said at the same time.

"sorry, i involved her again." you said as you felt toji's hand at your back.

"i didn't know you felt that way." he said.

"it's okay. i know how hard it is to move on from someone." you said as you held his free hand. "this will be the last time, toji." you said.

"what do you mean?" he asked.

"i'm not dying." you said with a laugh. "what i mean is this will be the last time i'll involve her. i finally realized it, toji. that no matter what i do, i still couldn't do anything for you to love me the way i love you." toji was about to say something but you cut him off. "but it's fine! like you said, we're married only in papers. i think i'm getting it now."

he was silent and you felt his touch disappear on your back.

"i just want to sort everything out before i stay in the hospital for 15 days." you mumbled as you sighed deeply. "sooo, friends then?" you said, the same exact words he told you before you two got married by force. but you saying it hit something in him, it made his chest ache.

he felt your hand take his and shake it, as if both of you just had an agreement. you didn't even wait for his reply as you finally sit up from the bed and started packing some clothes you'll be needing and he could only watch.

"don't worry, it'll only be 15 days. mr. fushiguro can still visit everyday but only around 10 AM to 5 PM." choso said as he glanced at your way.

"choso, did you know there was a theory that being hospitalized will only worsen your state. what if that happens to me?" you said.

"that's a lie, you're here not to worsen your state but to heal you."

"but what if? you know, everything is unexpected."

"why'd you even ask?"

"i don't know. i guess i'm ready?" you said and choso was looking at you with his judging expression. "just kidding." you said as you laugh.

"think of the people who cares for you. be strong for them because they're waiting for you to come home." choso said and megumi was the only person you could think of.

"my son." you said with a smile.

"yes, megumi's waiting for you so stop with your negative thoughts."

"ok, i will."

"mama!" your mood shifted as you heard megumi and he finally entered the room.

he was on his school uniform as he approached you, his upper body leaning on the bed as he tried to reach for you. you leaned close to him as megumi's small hands held you by your cheeks.

"mama, why are you here?" he asked as he frowned.

"mama needs to stay here for now but don't worry."

"why?"

"megumi, don't ask too many questions." toji said.

"it's fine." you said.

toji was watching you and his son interact.

megumi was still mad at him but megumi just didn't show you. toji mentally slapped himself as he recalled the happenings yesterday.

it was megumi frantically looking for you around the house.

megumi was running around the house as he call for you.

"where's mama?" he asked toji as he pants.

"she'll be staying at the hospital for now." toji said.

"why? is mama sick?" megumi said as he approached his father who's ignoring his question. "papa!"

"megumi, you won't understand. and yes mama is sick. now stop asking."

"why is mama sick!" megumi yelled, asking questions, eager to know the answers.

"she needs her heart to be healed. there, now go to your room megumi, you have school tomorrow."

"heart?" megumi muttered as he forced himself on his father's sight as toji sighed. "it's all your fault!" megumi yelled and toji ignored him. "you always make mama cry! now her heart is sad because of you! you always get mad at mama when you come home drunk!"

"what did you say?" toji said as he held megumi by his shoulders.

"i hate you! i wish it's you in the hospital not mama!" megumi said before he could even realize his words as toji let go of megumi. toji sat back on the couch and megumi ran out of the living room.

megumi cried to his sleep as he craved for your presence.

megumi was laying on top of you as you lull him to sleep.

"say sorry to your papa later, okay?" you said as megumi sniffed before nodding.

toji went to buy foods outside as megumi told you everything he said last night.

"it's not your papa's fault why i am here. remember that."

"mama get home soon, okay?"

"of course." you said as you pinch his nose. "stop crying now."

after some minutes, toji finally came back as you and megumi ate the food he bought.

megumi sat at the back seat as he hug his knees.

"i'm sorry, papa." he mumbled. "mama told me what i said is bad. i'm sorry." toji kept quiet as he drives.

he carried megumi who fell asleep at the back seat to his room, giving him a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

toji thought megumi was right, that maybe it was better that it was him in the hospital and not you. he didn't want to lose anyone anymore and toji hoped that he isn't too late.

he was blaming himself.

he already considered himself as a curse, because if he started to love someone, something bad will happen to them. worst is they disappear from his life.

is it a right choice to finally love you?

maybe not.

first week of your stay in hospital wasn't that boring as you thought it would be.

toji would visit you at the starting hours and will bring megumi from school at the last hour, though megumi always sleep on top of you since he wanted to be close to you.

toji would sit there in silence as you hum megumi a lullaby he once heard his son humming while doing his assignments.

toji knew megumi were attached to you but he didn't knew he's that attached to the point that megumi always cry every night, looking for you and will end up sleeping beside toji occupying the space you usually lay at.

"mama, i counted and it's 8." megumi said as he sat on the hospital bed beside you.

"that's right, 7 days more and mama can go home."

"but 7 days is too long." megumi said as he frowned.

"it's not if you stop focusing on it."

"okay, i will not!" you and megumi laughed at the same time and he kneeled towards you as he started wiping your under eyes with his thumb.

"mama, are you sleeping enough?" megumi asked.

"i am. it's just so boring here when i'm alone." you said as megumi embraced you.

"don't worry, mama. i will pray so you can go back home."

"thank you, 'gumi."

"mama." megumi whispered after a minute of silence as you hummed in response.

"papa is not sleeping well." megumi said as he look around as if someone was there to listen but it was just you and him since toji left when someone called him.

"why?" you asked.

"papa misses you, mama."

"he does?" you said as megumi frantically nods.

"he said it to me!" megumi exclaimed excitedly.

megumi was sitting on the kitchen stool as he stared at the cereal on the table.

he hates cereal, he loves the food you cook for him but since you weren't around, he needed to eat it for now.

"stop crying megumi. she'll be back soon." toji said as he drink his black coffee.

megumi wiped his tears as he sniffed.

"i miss mama." megumi mumbled followed by another sniff and toji sighed as he sat beside his son.

"i miss mama too but don't worry, okay? let's have faith and be strong for her too."

"okay. but papa if mama is back you better not make her heart sad again." megumi said as he waited for his father's response and minutes passed, he noticed his father was spacing out. "papa?"

"oh?" toji snapped out of his thoughts as he smiled at megumi. "of course."

"bye bye mama." megumi said as he look away from you and you knew he was holding his tears back.

"come here." you said as he slowly approached you. "don't cry, you'll be back tomorrow, right?" megumi nods as he wiped his eyes with his sleeves. "bye bye." you said as you kissed his forehead before he went back beside toji as he held toji's hand.

you made an eye contact with toji "see you?" you said and he only nod in response.

why are you expecting something when you and toji already settled everything as friends.

toji looked at you for the last time before he and megumi left the room, leaving you alone again.

what are you even expecting? it's not like he would do something.

you just hope that he did something though. maybe a kiss on your forehead? or just a simple words of affirmation, but nevermind.

you sighed as you hug your knees, you should stop thinking about something that'll hurt your own feelings, you didn't want to worsen your state more, do you?

as if it was a coincidence, choso entered the room with papers in his hand.

"hi." you greeted as choso entered the room.

"how are you feeling?"

"nice, i guess?"

"good job, there's a lot of progress." he said.

"wow really?!" you said excitedly.

"yes, you don't have to stay for another 7 days. did your husband left already?"

"they just left."

"call them back so you could finally go home with them."

"mama, do you hate papa?" megumi suddenly asked as he looked up at you, both of you laying on the couch with book in your hand.

"why are you asking that question? of course i don't."

"really? but why do you and papa always fight?"

"we aren't fighting, megumi. that nights you saw him getting mad was because he wasn't in his right mind and he was drunk."

"oh, okay." megumi said as he lay down back on your chest as you started playing with his hair again.

"i love your papa so much, 'gumi. more than i love myself." you whispered as you smile.

toji is currently helping you with the laundry since he couldn't force you enough to take a rest.

"take a rest." toji said for the nth time as you wait for the laundry to finish.

"i'll just finish this." you said.

toji sighed, another attempt to force you failed and he could only wait for you.

he was getting impatient as he stand just at the door. he couldn't leave you alone, he's worried something might happen if he lose sight of you.

the same lullaby you're humming for megumi can be heard at the background as he watch you attentively.

but a sudden gasp left your mouth, your humming getting interrupted as you felt him hug you from behind.

"just take a rest." toji said.

"i'm almost finished." you said, an unexplainable feeling stirring in your system. it was as if you're uncomfortable at the physical touch he just initiated.

weren't you craving for his touch? now that he did it, why are you complaining?

"come on. i'll finish that. listen to your doctor, will you?" toji said as he held you by the wrist and pulled you going to the room.

"do you know what you'll do?"

"yeah, i do the laundry before." he said.

"okay, let me know if you're done."

you've met toji before, back when you were in middle school. maybe he doesn't remember you but you remember him.

that time when someone was making fun of you, he involved himself and protected you. it wasn't really a fight, it was just him pushing them away that made them run away from the scene.

"thank you." you mumbled and when he looked back at you, you noticed a band aid on the side of his mouth that was already red in color. he only looked at you as he walked away. but before he could get away, you held him by his hand. he made an irritated expression that scared you for a moment as you stutter through your words.

"i have a band aid here." you said as you look at each pocket of your clothes until you found it in your hoodie. toji was watching with an unimpressed look as he stand awkwardly. he hissed in pain when you removed the band aid from his lip and replaced it with a new one.

"there." you said. he didn't even thanked you as he left and when toji saw his reflection on a random store, the design of the band aid was really, embarrassing.. a hello kitty design.

you were at the middle of college when your parents told you to stop. they had arranged a marriage for you that you didn't even want. you didn't want to stop college, you wanted to be free but they wouldn't let you. when you met your soon to be husband, you thought he was familiar but couldn't place your finger with. you were sure that you saw this man somewhere, you just couldn't recall where.

the scar on the side of his mouth made you curious as you stare at it and it suddenly made toji self-conscious.

"ah this scar?" he said as your eyes shifted from his scar to his eyes. you were on your first 'date' with toji. the one both of your parents said to get to know each other more.

"i got this from abuse." he said straightforwardly as you laugh nervously.

"um.. did it hurt?" you asked.

"no." he said as he placed his hand near his scar and as if something slapped you mentally, toji's current position reminded you of someone. that kid from the playground, the one who defended you from the bullies, the one that you gave the band aid you just bought because you accidentally scraped your knee, but you gave it to him. toji noticed you genuinely smile at him followed with a wholehearted laugh.

"what's wrong?" he asked and you only shake your head in response.

what a coincidence. who would've thought that the kid you kept on searching for, the reason why you stayed at the playground for who knows how long, hoping to see him again was being married to you? what an unexpected turn of your life.

getting to know each other means getting to know everything in your life. personal or not. it was as if that 'date' made your heart full and ended up being broken in the end. toji was the kid you've been looking for, for a long time now but then he suddenly told you that he was already married and they had a son together.

he clarified that he only accepted the marriage because he didn't have a choice. he told you he just didn't want to disobey his parents and megumi just need a presence of a mother.

"being friends will do." he said as you hesitantly nod.

you didn't even know why you suddenly remembered the past.

"(name), where did you put-" the words died in toji's throat as he opens the door, only to find you standing at one of his drawers, a folder in your hand as you continue to stare at the paper.

the folder was immediately snatched at your hands as toji placed it back on his drawer.

"that's–" you gasped.

"no, listen–" toji mentally cursed himself. he forgot to throw the divorce papers he requested back when it's the first month of your relationship. he forgot to throw it when he was cleaning his drawers the day you were at the hospital

you looked at him, and he hated that look in your face as another curse left his mind. what should he say? how should he explain it.

"well, if that's what you want."

"no." toji said as he moved close to you but your instinct told you to step back and you did. "that was, that wasn't.." he was stuttering through his words as he heard you sigh.

your heart was aching but you have to ease the pain. you didn't want to go back to the hospital again.

"it's fine, toji. you don't have to explain." you said as you sit at the edge of the bed.

"that was before. first month of us being married." toji explained and the small shift of your mood got unnoticed by him.

"is that so?" you said, looking up at him. "maybe i did something you didn't like to ask for divorce papers, huh." you chuckled as you recalled the first month of your marriage. it was megumi finally addressing you as his mother.

toji admitted that day that he didn't want megumi calling you 'mama' but he didn't want to wipe the genuine smile on his son's face so he just let him call you his mother.

"i'm sorry." he said followed by a strong curse.

"why?"

"fuck, i'm sorry. i didn't- that was before. i don't want a divorce now." toji said and the ache in your chest suddenly disappeared as you gave him a teasing grin.

"why? don't tell me mr. fushiguro is finally starting to love me." you joked and it was clearly just a joke, but the tension suddenly changed. he wasn't laughing at your words but was looking straight in your eyes with something in it.

"i'm just joking.." you said as toji finally looked away from you. he couldn't stop cursing mentally. he was lost in his thoughts and didn't feel you moving close to him and when you were about to place a hand on his shoulder, to simply get his attention, he suddenly held you by the wrist.

"toji, what's wrong?" you asked. he started gripping your wrist tightly and both of you were interrupted by the knock on the door.

"papa! lala wants to talk to you on the telephone!" megumi yelled as you look at the door but when you look back at toji, he suddenly leaned close to you, giving your lips a peck, as if it was to reassure you and suddenly he was at the door.

you were frozen in your spot as you watch him close the door, your hand flying to your lips and caress it and instead of an ache, your heart was beating with happiness.

it was one of those nights where toji couldn't sleep again. it happens when something is bugging his mind. he was staring at the ceiling with a deadpanned expression and your shifting caught his attention. both of you were surprised when both met each other's eyes.

it suddenly became awkward.

toji sat up from the bed as he leaned his back on the headboard. you stayed at your position as you stare at the ceiling. there are questions that wanted to be answered, but you think staying quiet would be the best option for now.

toji side glanced your figure, and there were space enough for another person to fit. has it always been like this? now toji is sure that it has been always like this.

toji doesn't know what to do as he continuously stare at you until you finally look at him. (his gaze was burning holes into you.)

there, you sat up from the bed too, doing what he did as you cleared your throat to ease some of the awkwardness that was around.

"can't sleep?" he asked.

"yeah, what about you?"

"can't sleep." you chuckled at his response as you bend your knees close to your chest. why is it starting to get cold?

"about the divorce-"

"i already told you that it was before.. i have no intention in pushing the divorce."

"why?" you asked and toji thinks he doesn't even know why. you were itching to know the reason when toji could've pushed through the divorce long ago.

"why? don't tell me mr. fushiguro is finally starting to love me." you recalled those words you said last morning and to your side, it was clearly just a joke so you removed that as one of the reasons why.

"was it because you found out i was sick?"

"no." he felt embarrassed on how quick he disagreed with your question. "i mean-"

"hm, what could be the reason.." you mumbled as if you're talking to yourself and toji couldn't help but observe you.

"it's best if we sleep for now." toji said as you hummed in response and started tucking yourself at the duvet, facing the wall. you weren't even surprised when you felt him pull you close to his chest. it was as if you're expecting him to do that. and he really did and there, you faced him as you wrapped your arms around his figure with your face hiding on his chest. toji inhaled your shampoo as he sighed in satisfaction.

"will this help you to sleep?" you asked as you look up at him. toji looked down at you with that stupid smirk on his face.

"i could ask you the same question." he said as he chuckled when you went back to hide your face on his chest.

"it will." you whispered but toji surely heared it clearly.

"then that goes the same for me."

"mama loves to cuddle." megumi said as he looked at toji's plain expression. megumi copied his father's expression after looking away from him, continuing the assignment he was doing.

"that's all?" toji said as megumi scoffed at him.

"you asked me what mama likes the most!" megumi argued as he fully face his father. "that's the most, mama loves cuddles!"

"okay okay, stop yelling." toji said when he heard your footsteps approaching them.

"good morning, mama!" megumi greeted as he ran towards you to hug you.

"good morning, megumi." you said, looking at toji as you nod at him.

"morning." he said as megumi pulled you on the table at the living room, showing his little drawing to you and toji.

"what's that?" you asked as megumi smiled.

"this is mama," megumi said as he pointed at you. "this is papa and this is 'gumi."

oh. it was a family drawing. your heart started beating through your ears as you look at megumi.

"my teacher said our assignment is to draw a family!" megumi exclaimed excitedly as he faced you and toji.

family? could you even consider yourself as one of their family? megumi could've drawn his real mother, why did he have to-

your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a hand on your back. you looked back and saw toji looking at you, it was different, the way his eyes calmed you. you awkwardly smiled at him as he pulled you close to his side while placing his other hand on megumi's shoulder.

"what's this?" toji asked as he pointed at a drawing which is color white and black.

"it's my dream dog! i want white and black." megumi said. your heart was racing as you feel the warmth of toji's palm on your side.

"why is mama carrying a stick?" toji asked as megumi huffed.

"so she can beat you when you hurt her again." megumi said as you laugh, finally joining in their conversation.

"that's cruel, megumi. i couldn't hurt your papa." you didn't even feel when toji already removed his hand on your side as he watch you and megumi, a smile making its way on his face.

"there.." you said as you dropped the pencil at the table.

"wow!" megumi exclaimed as you revealed some changes in his drawing.

"what are you holding, mama?" megumi asked.

"roses, mama loves roses." you said as you pat megumi's head.

"oh okay! then 'gumi loves roses too." megumi said as he grinned at you.

"but there are many types of roses." you said as you fixed megumi's disheveled shirt.

"really? what's your favorite among them, mama? megumi asked.

"the purple one!" you said as megumi nods at you.

"why not red, mama? red is famous one right?"

"yes, but i love purple more. because it means love at first sight." you said as you bump megumi's nose with your pointer finger.

you watch him look to the side as you follow his line of sight. he was looking at his father. you forgot that toji was even there as you look away with embarrassment. clearing his throat, toji stood up from the couch as he brushed his hair with his fingers.

"i'm gonna prepare for work." he said before leaving as megumi watch his father disappeared from his sight.

"mama, is papa your love at first sight?" megumi asked when his father wasn't around anymore. you smiled as you recalled the very first day you laid your eyes on him.

"he is." you said with admiration in your tone. "did you know i met your papa when he was a kid?" you said.

"really? what's he like?!" megumi asked with excitement as he leaned close to you.

"hm, he's still the same.. but he saved me from bullies." you said as megumi kept quiet, wanting to know more. "i scraped my knee but i gave my band aid to him because his lips were bleeding."

"is that why papa have a scar?"

"i guess?" you said as you ruffled megumi's hair. "it's just a secret between us, okay?" you whispered as megumi nods at you.

unbeknownst to you, he heard everything you told megumi as he recalled that day where he first got the scar on his lip, that hello kitty band aid. so it was you, huh.

toji left after eating breakfast and it was past lunch when you heard a knock on your front door.

but you weren't expecting visitors, who could it be?

you were surprised when you're met with, no one. but there was a bouquet of purple roses on your doorsteps.

you picked it up as you read the note.

'this is for you, i hope you like it.'

you bit your bottom lip to suppress the smile but it couldn't be helped.

you inhaled the scent of the roses as you finally went inside the house.

"thank you for the roses, toji." night finally approached as toji looked up from his laptop and to you.

"what roses?" he asked as you look at him in disbelief.

"that- you, weren't you the one-" toji suddenly laughed as he closed his laptop.

"i'm just kidding." he said as you glared at him.

"not funny!" you said, almost embarrassed when you stammered with your words just a minute ago.

"did you like it?" toji asked as he started preparing the duvet.

as if it was already planned, you move close to him as he finally covered both of your bodies with the duvet. "i love it."

toji's arms automatically made its way to wrap securely around you.

"how's your check up with choso?" toji asked as he switched off the lamp.

"he recommended me another medicine."

"huh? why? i thought you're getting better?" toji asked as you silently laugh at him.

"yes i am, it was just a vitamin, i mean."

"ah, is that so?"

"mhm."

"sleepy already?" toji asked in a teasing tone and you only further hide your face on his chest. "goodnight." he mumbled.

"i love you, toji." you mumbled against his chest. "you can say it back when you're ready." you said as you look up at him and toji lightly smiled at you.

"i'm almost there.." he mumbled.

"i can still wait.." you said as you looked at him with glint in your eyes. toji let you kiss him on the lips before you went back on hiding your face. he chuckled as he pulled you closer with his hand behind your head.

it was a random night, a random song that was being played on the radio can be heard as you sit down on the couch of the living room. the lights were all closed, the street light outside being the only source of light inside your home.

toji wasn't home yet and megumi is already sleeping in his room.

your head almost fell on the couch when the click of the door woke you up.

toji sighed as he closed the door.

"i'm home." he muttered, but didn't expect to see you approaching him in the dark.

"welcome back." you greeted as you took his bag on his hand, guiding him on the living room.

"have you eaten?" you asked.

"ye-"

"let's eat together, i'm hungry!" you exclaimed as you held him by his hand, guiding him to the kitchen. well maybe eating dinner for the second time wouldn't hurt. toji thought.

"megumi?" he asked.

"already sleeping." you replied with an almost sleepy voice as toji sighed.

"you didn't have to wait for me." he said as he stand beside your almost sleeping form. "let's get you to bed." toji said and carried you in a bridal style.

"toji.. let's sleep." you said as he unbuttoned his almost tight polo.

"yeah, i'll just changed my clothes."

"hurryy."

"did you drink?" toji asked as he lied beside you.

"no."

"why are you being clingy?" he asked.

"miss you." you mumbled, wrapping your arms on his figure. "did you miss me?" you asked and toji couldn't help but smell you.

you didn't even smell like alcohol.

"i'm not drunk, i'm just sleepy." you said as if you just read his mind.

"alright."

"you didn't answer me yet."

"i did." he said as you squealed in happiness.

"okay, good night. i love you." you mumbled.

toji gaze softened as he pulled you close to his chest.

"good night." i love you too.

it was late at night again and toji was still not home. megumi was sent back home by a school bus last afternoon.

you haven't eaten yet. you were waiting for toji so both of you could eat dinner at the same time again and the door clicked as you stood up from the couch.

"i'm home." toji mumbled.

"welcome back!" you exclaimed.

if yesterday you were sleepy, today you have a lot of energy. you took the bag from toji's hand as you walked ahead, only to be pulled back when toji held your wrist, placing a kiss on your forehead as he loosened his tie.

it sure caught you off guard as toji walked past you as if nothing happened.

"well, have you eaten?" you asked, almost stuttering.

"yes." he responded and you mentally frowned.

"okayy." you said as you help him remove his blazer.

"what about you?" he asked, but before you could answer, your stomach growling did it for you. embarrassing.

"well, i guess eating dinner for the second time wouldn't hurt, right?" he said.

"hi, welcome back.." you slowly said as you took toji's bag in your hand.

"i'm home." he muttered, walking past you but suddenly he went back and give your forehead a kiss before removing his watch.

"bad day?" you asked, helping him remove his blazer.

"yeah, i think i couldn't eat dinner with you tonight." he said with a frown.

"it's fine! you go and rest." you said, giving him a smile of reassurance.

toji frowned once again when you made your way to the kitchen. you were humming a song but you were stopped when you saw toji sitting at his usual spot. you blinked twice at him as he sighed.

"well, i got hungry." he said, not looking at your way.

"okay! i'll re-heat some more then." you exclaimed with a smile and toji couldn't help but mirror it.

"thank you for the food."

another bad day.

you noticed it the moment toji entered the house with a slumped shoulders.

"welcome back." you greeted, doing the same routine.

"i'm home." he responded, hooking an arm around you before placing a kiss on your.. lips? "what's dinner for today?" he asked as he started unbuttoning his polo. "(name)? what's wrong?" he asked.

"w-well, i made your favorite." you stammered as you made your way infront of him, helping him remove his blazer.

toji made his way first at the kitchen, taking a mug from the cabinet and it caught your attention.

"coffee?" you asked as he nods and suddenly, you placed a hand on his back.

"take a seat. i'll make you one." you said.

"i can do it myself."

"just let me take care of this, okay? you're tired from work." you said, turning on your back to make him a black coffee when you suddenly felt his weight behind you.

"thank you." he mumbled before going back to sit and it made you proud of yourself.

"welcom-" you were cut off when toji harshly kissed you, his hand flying at the back of your head as he pushed you, until your body collided with a wall. "toji-" you mumbled through his kisses as you pat his shoulder. "can't breathe!" you said as he finally pulled away, with him leaning his forehead on yours as both of you catch your breaths.

"bad day again?" you asked but he only clicked his tongue, continuing his task on you, the food you made being forgotten as he carried you and made his way on the bedroom, and also not forgetting to lock the door.

thank goodness it was saturday today.

your whole body was aching and toji was out of sight as you sat up from the bed.

"mama?" megumi's voice can be heard at the door as he knocked three times before opening, only to see you on the ground. "mama!" megumi exclaimed as he approached you. "papa help!" megumi yelled as he struggled to help you stand up.

"megumi look out for the food in the kitchen." toji said as megumi followed what he was instructed.

"it hurts." you said as toji easily carried you, placing you back on the bed.

"guess i went rough last night." he mocked.

"shut up!"

"i'm home." toji said as he entered the house. you smiled as you approached him.

"not a bad day anymore?" you joked as he laughed, hooking a hand around you as he placed a kiss on your lips. you were used to it now.

"yeah." he replied as both of you did the usual routine.

after the dinner, you were quiet. it was unusual for you to be silent.

"toji-"

"what's wrong?" he asked, cutting you off. the night you both shared was 2 weeks ago, you were supposed to have your period 2 days ago but none came.

"i'm late." you said, starting to get stressed. "i'm scared, what if i ended up being pregnant-"

"then that's good. megumi will have a playmate. is it not?"

"but-"

"it's okay." he said, taking your hand on his and you were surprised when he removed the wedding ring on your finger, placing a new one. "wear this from now on." he said, placing a new ring with a rare design on it.

"thank you.. i love it but, why?"

"i want to get married again." he said, looking straight in your eyes.

"but we're already married." you said as you frowned.

"but for real this time." he said with a smile. "you know, before, i wasn't-" he paused, he couldn't say it but you already understood what he was saying.

"i understand." you said as you laughed.

"will you marry me again?" he asked and you couldn't contain the big smile that was on your face.

"i would love too!" you said as you embraced him, with him spinning you around.

"i love you (name).. thank you for staying with me and megumi. thank you for not giving up on us.. on me." he said and you couldn't help but tear up.

finally. it's finally happening.

"i love you too." you responded with a shaky voice as he wiped your tears with his thumb before finally connecting his lips with yours.

it was worth all the wait.

#nana.gumi #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk angst #toji x you #toji angst #toji fushiguro angst #megumi angst #fushiguro angst #jjk #toji smut

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