#if it feels right then i'm just cutting a chapter off and releasing it into the wild | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pepperonidk · 1 month ago

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ii. the song's about to start (can you feel it?) || to.you

↳ "... i'm about to fall for you.''

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoox gn!Reader Summary: Creative constipation. That's what Wonwoo calls the feeling he gets when he realizes he wants to write about how he feels about you. What exactly does he feel about you? That's... inconclusive, he thinks. Warnings: alcohol mentions, cursing Songs Mentioned: partners in crime - finneas, (only) about love - grentperez, buzz - niki

A/N: I'll be releasing a new chapter every day until Christmas, as a gift. :)

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

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Mingyu is the worst person to have in the car when all you want to do is think.

The thought popped into Wonwoo’s mind as he swatted at a wandering hand reaching for the volume dial on his dashboard. A groan sounded from beside him and Wonwoo rolled his eyes in return. Mingyu was a regular in the front seat of his car, and to his dismay, felt much too comfortable touching everything he could on the dashboard. His chair was leaned back absurdly far and the vents on the air conditioning seemed pointed in every which direction.

“Wonwoo, I like this song,” he huffed as he reached forward to mess with the volume again. His drunken clumsy hands turned the dial much too far until Wonwoo adjusted it back to a reasonable level. With a sigh Wonwoo gave in and looked forward to his later drive home in silence.

He tapped his fingers against the wheel as Mingyu sang along. Croaked, more like. Mingyu had a melodic singing voice, but that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone hearing him right now. But Wonwoo was used to this, and although he pretended to be annoyed by it, he really didn’t mind. He liked this song too and he hummed along, quiet enough that Mingyu wouldn’t notice.

“You couldn’t look any more like a lover Or a partner in crime Or something of mine”

The song ended and Mingyu reached over to turn the volume down. Wonwoo was thankful, but realized if the radio volume went down, Mingyu’s would have an inverse effect. He looked over at Wonwoo whose eyes were trained on the dark and empty 3 a.m. freeway ahead of him.

“You know,” Mingyu began with a smirk in his voice and Wonwoo tensed, steeling himself for whatever nonsense would escape his friend’s lips. “Seungcheol said he saw you dragging Chan’s friend upstairs earlier.” Wonwoo’s hands grew tighter on the wheel and Mingyu didn’t miss the flush of red that appeared on his cheeks as Wonwoo remembered the brief feeling of your skin on his. He shifted his glasses higher up on his nose bridge. Mingyu’s laugh was grating, Wonwoo thought.

He chose not to say anything. A mistake, really, as now Mingyu, the yapper, had found an opportunity to fill in the blanks with his own speculations.

“Mr. Jeon, I never took you for the frat-party quickie type,” Mingyu continued, laughing to himself. “Especially not with people you write songs about.”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo huffed. “It wasn’t a quickie, I was–”

“Oh so you took your time,” Mingyu cut him off with a playful slap to his shoulder. Somehow he felt his face heat up some more. Wasn’t Mingyu drunk? How was he this perceptive? Thankfully, they weren’t too far from Mingyu’s home.

“We were looking for those two other idiots that hang around Chan,” Wonwoo tried to speak up over the sound of his friend’s guffaws.

“I’m just teasing, you grump,” Mingyu finally relented. He waited a beat before continuing. “But that new song of yours was definitely about them right?”

Wonwoo thought for a second before answering, even though he knew Mingyu already knew what he’d say. He simply nodded in response.

“Knew it,” Mingyu spoke again. The teasing lilt in his voice was soon replaced by something softer. “It’s been a while since you’ve written anything new. It felt new.”

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asked curiously. He’d always had a particular style when it came to writing songs, and Mingyu had known him long enough to see it become what it was. He didn’t particularly intend to write anything different, he just… wrote as he always did.

Mingyu leaned against the window, thinking to himself. “I’m not really sure myself,” he finally answered after a beat. “It just felt more like you, I guess.”

The last time Wonwoo wrote a new song was when Joshua was still part of their band.

Last spring, right as the trees were beginning to turn into various shades of light pinks and pastels, Joshua asked them all to stay after practice to talk. It was an unusual rehearsal from the start, and Joshua seemed nervous much unlike his usual calm and collected self. His dark hair was ever so slightly disheveled and he wore pajama pants instead of his nicer trousers that he usually wore to save time before heading to his office internship after practice.

Joshua clumsily missed notes that he had never missed before, and Wonwoo was more shocked than anyone else to see the founder of their band fumble around like he’d never held a guitar before. So when it came time for them to talk, Wonwoo was intrigued and surprised again when he finally spoke.

“I’m moving,” Joshua blurted out without his usual level of tact.

“You’re–”

“What–”

“Moving–”

Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Wonwoo all spoke at once and Joshua let out a sigh of relief that melted into a soft laugh, as if a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

“Moving? Where?” Wonwoo asked again.

Joshua nodded with a sheepish smile before explaining. “You’ve all met my girlfr— fiance before. We’re both graduating next semester. She got accepted to a music conservatory overseas and my internship offered me a position at their branch in the same city, it just feels like the stars were aligning. It all feels like a sign.” In the many years he’d made music with Joshua, learned his cues and learned his melodies, he saw that Joshua spoke with a twinkle in his eye that Wonwoo had only ever seen when he spoke about his partner.

“I’m sorry to announce I’m leaving the band like this,” Joshua continued. “But I’ll help you find a replacement before I leave. In fact, I already have someone in mind.”

That’s how they found Chan, a friend of Joshua’s fiance who played in the university orchestra with her. They watched his end-of-year recital and sat through his flawless performance of a cello concerto by Saint-Saëns. It all happened rather quickly after that and without even auditioning, the passionate but impulsive sophomore had become their new bassist.

After going out for a round of drinks at the local pub to celebrate Joshua’s news, Wonwoo found himself outside on the patio, resting his elbows against the railing and thinking about all of this until a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Wonwoo,” Joshua called as he moved to stand beside him. “What’s on your mind?��

He turned around to glance over at his friend. Joshua looked happier now, like he was constantly basking in the glow of something bright, and Wonwoo supposed that in a way, he was. “What does it feel like?” Wonwoo asked vaguely, but Joshua knew what he meant, as he usually did.

“It’s… hard to explain,” Joshua replied with a faraway smile. Wonwoo looked at him and waited for him to continue. “At first, it felt like… well you know, right before a show when we first turn on the amps? There’s a buzz, but it feels electric. It’s a little bit like that, anticipation because you know something good is about to happen.” Wonwoo nodded thoughtfully at Joshua’s response as he continued. “Now it feels so big… like exploring space, if space was safe and warm.”

After a slight chuckle, a wave of silence washed over the two of them until Joshua spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?” Joshua glanced over at his friend.

“I will be,” Wonwoo answered. “Will you?”

Joshua turned around to face the window and smiled to himself as he watched his fiance laugh at something Mingyu and Seungcheol were saying. “I think so,” he said quietly. “But I’m happy to be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo agreed. “Me too.”

When Wonwoo came home to his apartment that night, he reached for his guitar. He strummed quietly as he felt the familiar wash of inspiration take over him. A soft melody seemed to untangle itself into something that made sense in his head and soon, lyrics came along with it.

“Take my hand and come with me to another place We can walk around the universe tonight.”

He hoped he understood what Joshua had told him. Love as a concept was simple enough to put into an analogy, but difficult to really get, but for his friend, he’d try. He sent Joshua off later that spring with the lyrics and sheet music folded neatly in an envelope, a gift from Wonwoo to the happy couple and felt satisfied leaving it at that between the two of them. And so it was, until Joshua asked him to play it at his wedding six months later. It was his first time singing a song without the rest of the band, but it didn’t feel as scary as he imagined it to be. It was like having a conversation, or writing a letter to his friend. To Joshua.

He hadn’t written a song since then, not until he met you. Mingyu was right and the realization had heat seeping into his cheeks.

“Something something Halloween party,” Mingyu recalled the lyrics to his song, snapping him out of his thoughts. “That line about living in a VHS was pretty cute, what did you say to them to make you think of that one?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo replied and that was an answer enough on its own.

“Oh Wonwoo,” Mingyu cooed as he ran a hand through his hair and shifted to find a more comfortable way to drift off for the last few minutes of the ride, content to let Wonwoo have a reprieve from the teasing.

After dropping off a drunk Mingyu and driving back to his apartment, he couldn’t decide whether to grab his notebook and pen or his guitar. This was a rather frustrating dilemma to have. Usually, he’d feel something akin to lightning and either a simple line or a melody would come to him and he’d grab whatever vessel he needed to bring it alive.

The song he wrote about you two weeks ago began as lyrics first. He had watched you walk down the sidewalk in your pumpkin costume and groaned to himself as he realized half of your entire conversation was him saying, “cool.” He walked back into the party and through a sea of stupid costumes to find his guitar case and fished out the worn brown leather notebook that he always kept with him and grabbed a pen.

“I want to erase the things I said, but I’ll probably say them again. Wish I could hit rewind and not be so in my head.”

With a few tweaks and a chorus, it had become a song, and Wonwoo was proud of himself. It wasn’t until after he had finally set his pen down and saw he’d written the words “I wouldn’t have let you go leave me,” that he wondered if he really felt that way or if it was just a good line.

At the next party, when you told him you liked the song, the song he wrote about you, he felt something else, and he wondered what to call the flutter he felt in his chest. Attraction, maybe? He learned about the feeling of attraction in class, how the spike in your heart rate and cortisol levels can be read as attraction in the right circumstances… or stress in the wrong ones. With his adrenaline running high after his performance, he decided that the evidence presented was too inconclusive to be labeled one way or another.

Now, he decided to grab his notebook to look back at the page he’d scribbled on, to see if something could give that final push for lightning to strike. He scoured the margins, looking through the various doodles and squiggles and crossed out words. It was incredibly frustrating, Wonwoo thought, to have the desperate urge to write, but not know what to write. It’s probably because he still couldn’t figure out how he felt about you. Anxiety? Attraction? It was something new, but not something he knew how to explain. All he knew was that he wanted to write about you.

Nothing came to him even after flipping through his book, so with a sigh, he gave up and flopped onto his bed. His eyes fluttered shut and hoped inspiration would find him in his dreams.

The next morning, Wonwoo woke up feeling unrested and uninspired. He was expecting to wake up with that familiar whisper of a new melody or a new lyric in his ear, but instead he woke up to the sound of thunder outside. He ran a frustrated hand down his face. Creative constipation, he thought to himself.

Then as he settled into his seat for his psych class, he found himself so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you call his name. His gaze was fixed on his lyrics notebook in front of him until you reached out and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder. The contact snapped his attention towards you and he felt a haze begin to clear.

“Wonwoo?” The tone in your voice surprised him. It was soft and laced with concern. “You okay? I’ve said your name like three times now.”

“Yeah,” he shook his head as he muttered quickly. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

He watched as you gave him a kind smile, tilting your head. “I hate to break your concentration, but my usual seat has been… taken over.” He watched as you nodded your head towards the row in front where Soonyoung, who was hunched over his laptop, was completely oblivious to the girl in your seat who was leaning toward him with a hopeful, dazed grin. “We’re picking project partners today and I think she’s trying to get Soonyoung to pick her.”

Wonwoo scoffed at the scene in front of him. “She’s wasting her time. I’ve never seen him pay attention to anything in this class that wasn’t a Fortnite stream.”

“Harsh, but accurate,” you agreed with a chuckle. “So can I…?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” he scrambled to move his backpack off the seat so you could settle into it. He watched you sit down and when you smiled at him he suddenly felt his cheeks heat up. He awkwardly tried to bring his gaze back to his notebook, not knowing what to say, but waiting for you to continue the conversation.

After a beat, you continued. “So,” you leaned in conspiratorially. “Think she’ll succeed?”

He thought for a second before answering, his lips twitching as he did. “Not unless she pays him in… Robucks.”

“V-Bucks,” you corrected him with a playful grin.

“Right,” he twirled his pen in his hand, as if needing something to fidget with. “That.”

You chuckled in amusement. “Well, if she steals Soonyoung, I’ll settle for Chan. We’ve been project partners since we were little, so I’m used to picking up his slack.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow at you. “And if Chan gets taken?”

You simply shrugged as you smiled at him playfully. “Then I guess I’d be stuck with you.”

His pen slipped out of his fingers and he blinked at you, his glasses sliding down his nose. “Me?” he echoed.

“Yeah, you,” he blushed as you laughed at his surprise. “Unless you’ve already made plans?”

“I don’t know anyone else in class,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Neither do I,” you replied easily. “Looks like we’re a great match already.”

For a beat, Wonwoo caught himself just staring at you, unsure of what to say. The tips of his ears felt red hot, and he looked down at his notebook again, scribbling in the margins. “Sure, a good match,” he repeated.

“So what is it that had you thinking so deeply?” you asked as you pulled your laptop out of your bag.

Wonwoo paused for a beat, wondering how to reply. He wasn’t particularly fond of letting people into his writing process. It felt too intimate. Even Mingyu and Seungcheol had only ever looked into his notebook once and then decided it wasn’t worth being on the receiving end of Wonwoo’s death glare (not to be confused with his usual resting neutral glare). For some reason, he felt as though you wouldn’t be too much of a threat to his creative process.

“I have to write about a feeling,” he began tentatively. “But I can’t really figure out what it is.”

“Oh is this for, like, an essay?” You asked. You tapped on your chin as you thought about what to say.

“Yeah, something like that.” “What’s the feeling?” you continued to ask. Wonwoo found himself intrigued at your willingness to help him, but remembered how quickly you relent to offering your notes to Soonyoung and Chan when they miss something. He figured it’s probably second nature for you.

“Honestly, I’m not too sure myself,” Wonwoo answered honestly but still nervous that you’d see through his flimsy details.

He was aware of how vague his answer was, but this was the closest thing he could tell you without divulging his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure how much of a help you’d actually be. Songwriting, Wonwoo recognized, was not something that everyone could do, but it was something he did well. He had a knack for being able to step into someone else’s shoes and write about their feelings. Like some sort of twisted empath, he could write a damn good love song without ever having been in love. He figured whatever higher being created him thought it would be funny to have such a stoic man only be able to express himself through a melody, like he was in some goddamn musical.

The other members of his band had a bit of experience writing as well, but their styles were different from Wonwoo’s. They had a special knack for writing songs that sounded like them. Mingyu’s songs were always more upbeat and catchy, good for parties, and a little quirky. Seungcheol’s songs were much more focused on the rhythm and had fewer lyrics. Chan, although only having written a couple of songs so far, definitely had a more angsty, grungy vibe. It was only from Joshua’s leadership that they all learned to blend their styles into something cohesive.

Most people outside of the band assumed that the majority of songs were written by Mingyu or Seungcheol or even Chan now that he was part of it. But surprisingly, Wonwoo was the real lyrical mastermind behind No Name, although he never opts to correct anyone who thinks otherwise.

“Just write it down,” you replied as if it was the most simple answer. “Even if the feeling doesn’t have a name, you’ll get the point across.” When you looked over to see Wonwoo eyeing you skeptically, you continued.

“Not all feelings have a name,” you went on. “Like the feeling when you’re about to turn a door handle into a surprise party you knew about, or like when you get the first cup of hot coffee for the season because it’s finally cold enough outside for it. It’s like you know it’s the start of something new, something good.”

Wonwoo could see warmth flashing in your eyes as he watched you list these feelings. It reminded him of Joshua’s words that night. Something about anticipation…

There it was. Lightning. His head shot up as you spoke and you turned to him with wide eyes. You watched as he reached for his notebook and began scribbling into it madly. Before you could ask him more about it, the sound of the professor’s voice filled the room. Wonwoo, however, did not lift his head.

“It’s the feeling of the first coffee run in autumn – can you feel it?”

The last part was a question for himself.

Sure enough, today was the day project partners were being assigned and although Wonwoo spent the majority of the class writing madly into his journal, his ears perked up at the announcement.

“Since you’re all adults and there’s over 60 of you in this class, it’s easier for everyone to just partner up with their current desk partner.” Wonwoo turned and met your eyes and you both let out a sigh of relief. He was glad it was you.

He managed to set his pen down as the professor continued to explain the assignment. “This project is about relationships,” he announced as he walked down the aisle to hand papers out to the class. “For the rest of the semester, you’re going to be getting to know your partner and hopefully yourself, quite well. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can leave the class with a new friend.”

The both of you turned your heads at the sound of Chan groaning as he looked over at Soonyoung. Soonyoung looked wistfully at the girl who stole your seat, finally giving her attention. Unfortunately, she was in a separate desk cluster. Wonwoo was thankful that things worked out the way they did.

Wonwoo watched you stifle a chuckle at the two in front of you and pass him the worksheet. He scanned over the paper. It was mostly blank, save for a few sentences of instructions and two sections of items to note.

Under the first section were three items: First impressions of your partner? Who do you think you are? How do you think others see you?

The second section simply stated: At the end of this project, reflect on your earlier impressions and see how they’ve changed. What’s changed about how you see your partner? How they see you? How you see yourself? What social theories or effects do you believe may have affected this change?

“You get out of this project what you put into it,” the professor stated. “The more time you spend with your partner, the more change you’ll see in any or all of the criteria. However, if you decide not to spend any time with them after the initial meeting, you still have some theories to write about.” He chuckled to himself as he scanned the students’ faces.

He continued on. “There’s no criteria for how much or how you spend time with your partner outside of being safe and respectful. But I suggest you do things together that mean something to you. Be intentional with the time you spend together.”

Wonwoo’s previous feelings of relief had suddenly dissipated as quickly as they came. This was a rather intimate project, and although the questions seemed simple enough, being in this class for the semester taught him nothing was ever psychologically simple. He snuck a quick glance over at you, busy writing your name on the top of your paper and writing down quick reminders to yourself in the margins of your notebook where you had neatly organized your notes from class. Your cheeks were pink, and so were the tips of your ears. He was sure his were too.

He looked down at his own notebook, filled with nothing that could help him on an exam. But he had half a song written down.

It wasn’t until the professor had dismissed the class and Wonwoo was setting his things back in his bag that you finally turned up to look at him with your phone out towards him. “Before you head out, can I get your number?” you asked.

“Sure thing,” Wonwoo reached out for your phone, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours in the process. There was that flutter again, but Wonwoo was ready to chalk this one up to stress. Until he caught a glimpse of your tinted cheeks and suddenly he was at a loss once again. He focused back on the phone long enough to put his number in before handing it back to you, letting his fingers brush yours once again. For research purposes, he had said to himself. Results still inconclusive.

That afternoon, Wonwoo sat at his desk with the worksheet in front of him. The first question seemed easy enough to answer. He didn’t need to think too hard before writing a response.

First impressions of your partner:

He thought back to his first time seeing you in class. Did that even count? All he ever saw was the back of your head and the way you would raise your hands to rub at your temples at the end of class as you slid your notebook for Soonyoung and Chan to take pictures of. He picked up his pen anyway. Begrudgingly kind, he wrote.

The first time he really saw you was that night at the frat party. You were quick to laugh at his jokes, and quicker to add on. And later, he watched as you danced with Soonyoung, who Wonwoo watched get shot down by a girl who was clearly more interested in the girl with her, even in your stupid pumpkin costume that stood out like a sore thumb. There was something about you that drew people in, he realized. Charming, good friend, obnoxious.

He thought about when you finally left that evening to go study. Hard-working, warm.

The next questions were a lot more difficult to answer.

Who do you think you are?

“Annoyed, mostly,” he muttered aloud as he forced himself to try to think. Although he had a knack for writing about other people, he wasn’t a huge fan of introspection. A musician, he wrote simply. I’m good at what I do, and I do what I’m good at. Simple. Blunt. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, he thought.

How do you think others see you?

This was such a dumb question, Wonwoo thought to himself. He never really cared about how other people saw him. Mingyu always said it was one of his charms, especially on stage, and he agreed. His Twitter DMs seemed to agree as well. But a question was a question, and he wasn’t going to hurt his stellar grade over a dumb question. Charismatic, quiet, intense, cold.

He finally set his pen down and picked up his phone to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey Wonwoo, are you free this evening?

Before Wonwoo could feel confused at who the hell would be so bold as to message him like this, you quickly sent a follow up text with your name and Wonwoo scoffed. He was amused. He saved your number before replying to you.

Wonwoo: Sure Wonwoo: Did you want to do something?

He didn’t wait long for a response as you quickly texted him an address and a time. The campus cafe, which thankfully was near his apartment, at 7 p.m. so he still had a few hours before he had to meet you. He pulled out his lyrics notebook and looked back at what he’d written during class. It felt like it was coming together and Wonwoo felt content as he grabbed his acoustic and began to strum absentmindedly, trying to figure out what his words sounded like in a melody. It was something simple, but he was happy with it. Mingyu was right, this song felt like him.

For the first time in a long time, he was writing about himself.

When Wonwoo walked into the cafe promptly at 7 p.m., he let out a soft sigh. The smell of pastries, cinnamon, and coffee wrapped around him like a comforting embrace and he took a moment to appreciate the smells of autumn. He scanned around the cafe and found you sitting at a booth by the window, staring out at the street. Now that October had passed, the jack-o-lanterns and skeletons had been replaced with the warm glow of fairy lights and other various holiday decor. As he walked towards you, he found himself catching his breath at the warm glow the lights left on your skin. Pretty, he thought to himself. When you finally turned your head and caught his eye, you smiled at him with a wave. As pretty as he thought you were looking away from him, it had nothing on the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him.

“Hey Wonwoo,” you greeted as he finally made it to your table. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck and slipped out from his coat, setting them both neatly beside him on the leather seat of the booth. “I went ahead and ordered a little bit before you got here. Figured you’d look forward to something warm to fight the cold.” You gestured at the cream colored mugs that sat on the table and Wonwoo cautiously inspected the one in front of him. The steam still rose from its contents and the smell of Earl Grey tea made his shoulders relax. He wasn’t a coffee person.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo replied softly. “How’d you uh, how’d you know I prefer tea?”

You blushed as you looked away. “I was a little nervous,” you began, your attention once again on the sights outside. “I texted Chan on the way here and asked what kind of drink you preferred.”

Wonwoo felt himself blush and was thankful that you weren’t looking directly at him. He scoffed before taking a sip of his tea. Seems like Chan pays attention. “Nervous, huh?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as teasing as it did.

You finally turned your attention back to him. “Yeah,” you chewed your lip. “This is kind of an intimate project. Did you see the questions? It felt like some sort of first date survey.”

He nearly choked on his next sip. You were right, and now that you had pointed it out, Wonwoo couldn’t help but fixate on the idea. A first date, he repeated to himself. He hoped the mug hid his blush.

“We don’t have to think of it that way,” you quickly added. Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your panic. “I mean, not that it would be terrible, but this is for class so I think we can keep it professional and then be friends, which I guess would not really be prof-”

“You’re rambling,” Wonwoo cut you off. He felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about all of this, but he also took note of how you said it wouldn’t be terrible for this to be a date. He let out a sigh and set his mug down. “There’s no pressure at all. We can spend as much or as little time together as you’re comfortable with, and how we spend that time doesn’t have to be anything in particular. We could study, talk, or just sit here in silence too, if you wanted.” He hoped of course, that he’d see you more often, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He knew people saw him as somewhat unapproachable. Even people who scream his name at performances seem to tense up and freeze when they see him on campus. He didn’t want you to be one of them.

To his credit, his words did seem to have an effect on you and he watched your shoulders begin to relax as you reached for your own mug to take a sip. “Thanks,” you began. “Sometimes I get too in my own head. But you’re right. No pressure.”

Glad that you were finally more relaxed, he let a beat of silence sit comfortably between the two of you. When he first met you at that party, you seemed a lot more sure of yourself, not that you seemed unconfident now, but more that you handled interactions with new people in a charming, easy way that he couldn’t. It made him relax knowing he wasn’t the only one who tends to overthink things. He made a mental note to write that down for his assignment later.

It was much easier to just talk after that. Wonwoo felt he had finally redeemed himself after that night where all he could say was “cool.” He was a man of few words… but not that few.

You told Wonwoo about how you’d met Chan, Seungkwan, and Hansol. How Seungkwan had come up to you at recess in elementary school after you had just moved to town and asked about the book you were reading. He was the first to speak to you, and Hansol was the first to drag you along to their adventures. Chan, who was your next door neighbor (and the same age as you), had declared himself your older brother when he found out you didn’t have one. “Everyone should have a big brother,” he had decided at 9 years old.

Wonwoo told you about the band, why it was called No Name in the first place. He and Joshua had started the band in high school with his best friends and kept it going since they somehow ended up at the same university. Mingyu wanted to call themselves The Four-Eyes “because it’s funny. Because you wear glasses.” And when Wonwoo nearly pounced across the table, Seungcheol suggested The Cherry-pops which Wonwoo hated even more. It wasn’t until Joshua broke up the argument and shoved Mingyu back to his seat on the couch that Joshua decided, “If we can’t decide on a name, then we go with No Name.” And that was that.

Wonwoo had found himself smiling at the memory, and chuckled at how long ago that was. Now, somehow, he had become the leader of the band, filling in Joshua’s role as a singer and at times, a mediator.

It was easy to be nostalgic with you, but maybe it was the tea, or the fairy lights that set him up. It wasn’t until both your mugs were halfway empty after a refill that Wonwoo remembered to ask. “So why a cafe?” he asked curiously.

Your eyes lit up as you began to speak. “Oh, right,” you began. “Remember how we were talking earlier about feelings that don’t have a name and I mentioned the first coffee run in autumn?” Wonwoo nodded. “Well, I finally had some time today, and I thought I’d invite you to join me so you could feel it firsthand.”

Now that it was November, it was well past Wonwoo’s first run to the cafe. In fact, he’d been here at least twice a week since September.

“I know that it’s really late into the season,” you spoke again as if you knew what he was thinking. “And I’ve had plenty of coffee since September. But I’d just been so busy that I hadn’t had a chance to actually sit down inside a cafe and enjoy a cup of coffee.” You smiled as you looked down into your mug.

This is nice, Wonwoo thought to himself. “So what are you feeling?” Wonwoo probed as he recalled your words from earlier. Something new, something good. This was definitely that.

“Like life is about to fall into place.”

Later that evening, Wownoo found himself itching for his phone to text you.

It had only been an hour since the two of you parted ways after he walked you to your car, but he already found himself thinking about when he would see you again. You were easy to talk to but you didn’t mind when he only had a few words to say either. It felt easy. He hadn’t been on many first dates but he knew that none of them had him feeling this way afterwards… Not that this was a first date. Right?

Wonwoo: Hey Wonwoo: Are you free tomorrow? We can meet again if you want.

Tomorrow? Wonwoo had sent the message before he could think too hard about it. He shoved his phone under his pillow and walked out to the kitchen of his apartment. He grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the island, running a hand down his face. He took a sip and began to pace back and forth.

Like a phone toss when it’s risky but you hit send.

He ran to his desk, momentarily forgetting about the phone, and wrote down the line. And another one. And another one. Until finally, he had a song. He took a deep breath before reaching under his pillow for his phone.

Coffee Addict (psych): I’m not busy :) where do you want to meet?

He thought for a second before an idea popped into his head.

Wonwoo: You know the music studies building? Meet me on the basement floor.

And so the next day he found himself sitting on the floor across from you in a cramped practice room with his hands clasped on his lap. He’s not really sure what had come over him last night after asking you to meet him, but he can’t say he regretted inviting you either. In fact, he woke up bright and early, feeling that flutter again as he thought of seeing you.

“This is cozy,” you joked as you looked around. The room really was cramped, and with a standing piano against one wall of the room, it made it feel even smaller. He wasn’t used to sharing this space with other people, but he didn’t really mind sharing it with you.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry it’s cramped, I know,” he acknowledged. “I just… I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” you asked. “What is it?”

Wonwoo looked up at the piano before standing up and offering his hand out to you. A buzz in his fingertips. A flutter in his stomach. He sat down on the piano bench and patted the space beside him to his right. The bench was wide enough to fit both of you, but Wonwoo didn’t miss the feeling of your leg pressed against his. Before he could overthink himself into a panic, he stretched his fingers over the keys and began to play.

“It’s the anticipation when the amps turn on Just cables and crackle. It’s the first flicker of the neon sign It’s the words stuck in your Adam’s apple.”

He glanced over at you before continuing on to the next verse. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, but you watched as his fingers moved across the keys.

“It’s a bumblebee on a blossom The first coffee shop run in autumn.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide as you recognized your own words.

“The song’s about to start, can you hear it? The door’s about to open, can you feel it? The flower’s about to fruit, can you see it? I’m about to fall for you.”

A buzz. A flutter. He knew what this was.

“About to fall for you.”

A/N: a fun fact about this chapter: Chan knows everyone's favorite drinks. It sounds sweet, but he learned it's an easy way to get on their good sides when he's late for practice.

Also I gave myself butterflies when writing this chapter hehe

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wordsarelife · 8 months ago

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𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: theo and you get your happy ever after

warnings: i don’t think there are any! let me know if that’s not true :)

note: here it is!! finally the epilogue is here! i loved writing this series so much!! please let me know what you thought of this chapter and/or the story in general!

!!!make sure to keep your eyes on the extras that are coming tomorrow (and feel free to request drabbles/ fics on future or past situtations in the don’t blame me universe, or questions you still have!! i will be thrilled to answer them!!)!!!

word count: 3.9k

note: not really happy with the outcome of this chapter, but whatever..

previous chapter | masterlist |

"mommy?“ a voice called and your head snapped to the side. "can you give me one of those paper towels?“

you rolled your eyes smiling at his antics and nodded, before you threw one in his direction.

"mate, you know i love you, but please stop acting out your mommy kink on my girlfriend“ theo hit mattheo's shoulder.

"well, y/n is the closest thing i have to a mother right now" mattheo argued dramatically "she takes care of me when i'm sick, she cuts apple slices for me—"

"—we've been on tour for two months" theo shook his head "it's not like you're never gonna see your mum again, get a grip"

"it's alright" you smiled. "i don't mind"

mattheo nodded "see?"

“yeah, whatever” theo shook his head “just get ready, please? we start in ten”

after the concert a few months ago, cursed legacy had gotten their record deal. dave had been impressed by their show, he wanted them to play opener for the rest of the following tour leg.

as soon as the school holidays began you joined them, traveling around the country.

theo and you couldn’t be happier. everything was going great and you were ready to tackle life together.

since the concert, theo had not stopped writing songs and they were only a month away from releasing their second album, soft death.

he was always talking about how you were the muse behind most of the songs. and you had to admit that they had never had so many love songs played (or written) before.

during the tour they had made many new fans, their followers growing while were getting more and more attention. they were already playing a few songs from the new album constantly and about you was a fan favorite. your favorite was echoes of devotion, which theo had written for you. it was the second song they played every night.

“see you later” mattheo took a look to his phone, checking the time, before he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek and quickly walked away.

theo rolled his eyes before he turned to you and gave you a long and passionate kiss, before he too took off after mattheo to get on stage.

you collected your things, before you started walking. you already knew that it would be hard to feel normal again once you were home in a month and college would start. how could you ever live a normal life after being treated like royalty?

you took your stage pass and walked in the direction of the tents. you hadn’t seen the rest of the band in hours. the reasons were simple enough. draco and blaise had made it their personal chore to walk around the venues before every show, claiming something about a good luck charm they absolutely needed. they had asked you to accompany them on a few occasions, which you did but quickly regretted after they spent the entire time talking about their hook ups from the night before.

they had already adopted the rockstar life style.

quite the opposite of that was enzo. he spent hours in the back of the bus, or in his hotel room, talking to april on his phone. she had come to a few shows, but she couldn’t be there constantly because of work and so they had decided to face time or text in any given moment. you rarely saw the boy without his phone.

april had been scared that their relationship would not last. she had feared that enzo would quickly realize how limiting a relationship was when there were a few hundred girls basically licking the ground on which he walked.

you had told her that enzo wasn’t like that, but you could still understand why she was feeling that way and promised to keep your eye on him.

enzo had done nothing more than proof the both of you terribly wrong. most of the time he did not even look into the direction of other girls, let alone talk to them.

that the rest of the band was busy could’ve been to your and theo’s advantage, making it possible to enjoy time for only the two of you, if there hadn’t been matt, who made it his personal task to follow you around like a lost puppy.

you loved him, you really did. during the time the both of you had only grown closer, going back to the sibling like relationship you had once had, but at times you wished he was anywhere else.

especially that one time when theo and you were making out on the couch of the tour bus and mattheo came barging in and acted like he didn’t know that he had just interrupted something, before he planted himself in the middle of theo and you and started playing star wars on the tv.

"good evening!" enzo's voice roared through the microphone, after they had come out and played only angel. the crowd cheered. "the next song we're gonna play is about a very special someone. our front man's girl to be exact. he's a very smitten man, so naturally, this is a very emotional love song, feel free to hold up your flashlights.. here is echoes of devotion!"

the crowd cheered once again, while you clapped your hands, your cheeks as red as the curtain next to the stage. theo's voice was always what started the song, he looked just as cheesy as you did, even if enzo had made it a habit to say the same lines every night, you and theo were still flustered about his words.

my love, like orpheus, i'd come,

to tread through shadows, my body numb,

but truth be told, in my hearts embrace,

i fear i'd falter, lose the race.

the music only set in after that. a steady and slow beat that was always responsible for your shiver as it guarded his voice through the chorus.

for i'd turn back, just like him,

my gaze would brake, our future grim,

your fading form, in shadows deep,

my love, too strong, my soul to keep.

the song was balancing right between breaking the crowds heart and animating them to sing along. it was the perfect mix of love and heartache, often making your eyes swell with tears, when you saw theo react the same way.

the song had a special place in both of your hearts. for one part, it was comparing you and theo to your favorite myth, which theo had done knowingly. and second, it reminded you both of how hard love could be, how even loving people deeply could led to hurting them.

it was one of the first songs theo did not sing entirely on his own. the second verse was accompanied by background vocals of the rest of the boys, making it sound almost dreamy and ethereal.

like orpheus, with his lyre's song,

i'd sing to you, all night long,

but in that moment, with fate's cruel twist,

i'd choose your eyes, and lose what's missed.

the second chorus was a little different to the first one, deeper, as theo had said.

for i'd turn back just like him,

the current stronger than we swim,

i'd face the darkness, lose my way,

for one more look, i'd gladly pay

"i don't understand" theo's voice was only above a whisper, making sure no one could hear you both in the treehouse. it was far too late for both of you anyway.

"what?" you had asked, looking up from the ipod in your hand.

"orpheus, that's his name, right?" the boy brushed his hair back, revealing his forehead. he hadn't gotten a haircut in ages, exclaiming something about girls finding him more attractive that way. you had spontaneously laughed at that prediction, considering you were the only girl he talked to. but the boy was fourteen and suddenly very interested in appealing to the opposite gender.

"what about him don't you understand?" you had the same tone in your voice your mother did when she would explain something to you and your brother.

"well, why does he turn around?" theo shrugged his shoulders, as he turned, facing away from you, to continue to paint doodles on the wall of the tree house. "he could've saved her if he had been stronger, if he had loved her enough he could've made it"

"it's not about that, theo" you had mused "orpheus looked back because he loved her so much, because the only way he could've saved her was if he had loved her less. but he didn't"

"i don't know, pixie" you send him a look upon the name, which he obviously couldn't see, your annoyance bouncing off of the back of his head. "i would be able to save you" his simple statement made the air freeze between the two of you, hitting deeper than it had been meant.

"then you don't love me enough" your voice was only a faint sound, but loud enough to make theo stop in his tracks.

without him noticing the irony of the situation, he turned around to look at you, his blue eyes crashing into yours. the softness in them almost made you shudder, asking yourself if the way you were feeling about him was totally normal. you did not have much experience with boys, but theo was different anyway, he was not like them, he was yours, without any requirements.

"no, i think i do" he whispered back, realizing that the quick act of him turning around had come right after you had simply doubted his love. he knew in that moment that it would never take much for him to turn around for you.

maybe it was the quiet of the night, or teenage hormones mixing up in the air, you weren't really sure later, but theo leaned across the space between you, gently grasping your lips with his, connecting them in a featherlight kiss.

there was no sound in the little room. there were only theo and you. and only your lips were touching.

for you're the melody that guides my soul,

through tempests wild and rivers cold,

i'll brave the depths, defy the night,

to hold your hand in morning light.

so here i stand, before your eyes,

with trembling heart, and no disguise,

to say, my love, in honesty,

i'd turn for your like orpheus for eurydice.

later that night, after the concert was finished and the band was saying their goodbyes, ready to leave the stage, you were waiting for theo behind the stage.

blaise and draco came down first, each of them ruffled your hair, before they walked away to find snacks.

enzo winked at you, holding his hand up for a high-five, which you gladly accepted.

matt plastered both of your cheeks with kisses, laughing deeply as you tried to slap him away.

all of the boys (except for theo of course) had grown to be like your brothers, but enzo and matt stood out the most. enzo was like the little brother you never had, especially because of his relationship with april.

mattheo had been protective of you ever since leo had brought you with him the first time at the age of five. he had looked out for you ever since, often joining forces with leo, when he forbid you from doing something.

even if you sometimes acted annoyed at him, you knew deep down that you needed matt, just as much as you needed your organs to survive. he had been (unlike theo at certain times) a constant in your life, you had never quite managed to get rid of. matt had made it clear to you that he wouldn't leave you alone. both of you were everything that was left of leo for the other.

you could see it in the way matt acted, when he would text you the most random things or when he was lifting you off the ground after he had predicted you would miss the single stair in front of your feet.

and he could see it in your face, as you scrunched your nose when you found something disgusting or when your eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. or sometimes, in the rare moments when his heart ached the most, when you would laugh, and immediately stop, as you both realized how much it sounded like your brother.

it was impossible for either of you to forget leo, if you had still so much left of him.

the cologne was the first thing that entered your nose and just a second after, theo rumbled down the stairs, heavy footsteps echoing over the instruments that were already being played on stage.

he was wearing a white shirt, he had gotten it himself, your name written over his heart with a cursive lilac thread. his hair was messy and a little bit sweaty. you remembered the heat of the stage lights from the night of the concert months ago and your skin burned.

his jeans were dark and loose, you had joked that he needed to wear skinny jeans, because he was in a boyband. you had to search for a picture of harry styles, for him to believe that that used to be a thing.

his face lit up when his eyes fell on you. he pecked your lips, as he threw an arm across your shoulder. another kiss to your hair following.

"my dad messaged me" you said as you walked further behind the stage.

theo perked up at that "will he meet us for dinner?"

"yeah, yeah" you rolled your eyes, uninterested in talking about the boring information. you grinned, as you halted in your step, taking his hand in yours, as you almost jumped up and down from excitement. "we will probaly see a whole lot of him in the future"

theo raised his brows, confused what you were hinting at. your smile grew bigger as you could see the realization set in on his face.

"cadence?" he asked, not quite believing it.

you quickly nodded your head, your excitement resulting in a giggle, as he threw his arms around your body, pulling you close to his chest.

theo had applied to the college months ago. your father had just texted you to tell you that he was in. the mail was only being sent out the coming week and he wanted theo to know. that's also why your father had a lot of connections in the music world and was friends with dave fraser, the guy that had given the guys the record deal. he had worked at the college for the past twenty years, it was a big one, similiar to juilliard, but stationed in england.

while theo would go there, you had applied to many schools close to his (which included, but was not limited to oxford and camebridge). the acceptance letter for camebridge had come last week and the joy on theo's face had been incomparable.

"so it's happening" theo muttered in your ear "we'll both stay"

"i'm going nowhere" you assured, as you intertwined your hands, leading theo back to the tour bus, that would start driving to it's next destination in only a few hours.

"me neither, for now we have seen enough of the world to last us for a few years to come"

"are you joining in?" matt asked when the two of you entered the bus. the rest of the boys were sitting around the table, matt sorting poker chips and enzo's phone was propped up in the middle of the table, april's laughing face on it's screen.

"hey guys!" april smiled.

"hey stranger" you giggled.

"mate, could you please grab the cookies y/n's mum send her?"

"hey, those are for me" you protested.

matt shrugged "well the bus was only for us and i'm still sharing it with you"

you sighed, before you gave theo the okay to get them.

"only two more weeks and you're coming home" april was close to screaming of excitement "it's so boring without you guys. i even began missing blaise"

"hey!" blaise protested, as he grabbed the phone and turned it in his direction, so april was able to see the offended expression on his face.

"yeah, sorry" april muttered "now turn me back"

actually, even if you enjoyed all the special treatment you were receiving on this tour, you couldn't wait to go back home. you couldn't wait for life to be a bit more normal again, even though you were sure that it wouldn't take long before the boys would have their own concerts.

you couldn't wait to watch them grow, but for now, you savored every moment, as long as they still belonged solemnly to you.

"who's gonna start?" mattheo threw the last of the chips down, looking between the rest of you for help.

"i thought you read the rules" draco exclaimed confused.

"well, no" mattheo shook his head "blaise was supposed to"

blaise shook his head repeatedly, claiming to not have been part of mattheo's scheme. the boys began fighting, pointing at each other accusingly.

theo and you exchanged a glance, before you suggested to play a few simple rounds of uno, which everyone agreed on and quickly quieted down.

now everything was finally right and if you could talk to her, you would like to tell your younger self that everything would be alright one day and that she didn't have to be as scared of the future.

a few weeks later, when you were back home, theo helped you pack your things up in your room.

the rest of the tour had gone by in a breeze, and even if all of them decided to concentrate on studying at their respective schools, the band still existed and even dave fraser promised that the career of cursed legacy was far from over. soft death had already been recorded and was coming out in two weeks.

"what's that?" theo asked as he fished a folded piece of paper out of your backpack.

"oh" you furrowed you brows. "i thought i had thrown that away" you shrugged.

"well, what's on it?"

"after i first listened to pixie dream girl, april made me write down my feelings and burn the papers. she was scared that i would do something i would regret" you send him a look.

"okay..but why do you have it if it got burned?" he pressed.

"because i wanted something to remind myself how i felt about all of this"

"am i allowed to read it?" theo asked expectingly "it probably won't be nice"

"i don't care" you shrugged "go on"

theo unfolded the paper, his breath hitching as he read the words you had written. he looked up in surprise and you smiled. "that's—" he mumbled, but couldn't find the right words, surprise and love making it hard to concentrate.

"not mean?" you helped.

theo grinned, before he folded the paper up again and put it in his pocket "i want to keep it"

you smiled and nodded.

and after all this, you stupid stupid boy, you had written that day, you are still the only one my heart wants to know.

you and theo kept your eyes on each other, not one of you daring to look away. you could see every version in him, every stage of his life was readable from his eyes. even that night was readable and you wondered if the was thinking about the same thing you were.

"what was that?" you had asked, your voice raised above the normal whisper.

"what?" theo muttered, feigning innocence. you would've almost believed you had imagined the kiss, but the lipgloss on theo's mouth was telling a different story.

"you kissed me"

"ugh, no?" theo shook his head, crossing his arms defensively.

"ugh, yes?" you outstretched your hand, pointing to his lips. "there, cherry lipgloss"

theo rubbed his mouth in a quick gesture, getting rid of the evidence "where?" he asked, fluttering his eyes.

"right there!" you insisted, fighting back a laugh at his attempt to play it cool.

theo smiled softly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of fondness and mischief. "okay, fine. maybe i did."

your heart raced as you struggled to find the right words. "why?"

his expression softened, and he reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "because... i wanted to."

"okay" you nodded, your voice only above a whisper. "but friends don't—“

"i know" theo had interrupted you. "i'm sorry"

something had shifted between you that night in the tree house, or at least for theo it had. it was like you were the only girl that mattered, like you were the only one that mattered. something about that scared him immensely.

you waited for him to say something. to explain to you what it meant for you, for your friendship. but his eyes were as big as yours and his mind wandered twice as fast. "we are friends" he muttered finally, as if to remind himself.

you nodded, taking it as answer enough.

the years turned faster than the pages of a book, you grew older, stayed inside your rooms when it got dark outside and you and theo never spoke of the night in the treehouse again.

neither of you had known what to say so you rather said nothing.

theo's last words to you that night, replayed themselves over and over again in your mind for the years to follow, even if both of you continued being friends normally.

"i couldn't help it" he had muttered, right after both of you had climbed down the ladder and were ready to go your separate ways.

you smiled at his honesty, as you held back a giggle. you couldn't see his face in the dark, the candle in the lantern you had brought with you had burned down completely, but you had a feeling that he felt the same mix of awkwardness and simple happiness you did.

"will you do that again?" you asked, feeling brave now that he was unable to see your face in the darkness.

air escaped from his nostrils, as he stifled a laugh at your question. "i'm not sure" he said.

"okay"

the air between you was quiet and still and you turned around before you softly walked the path between both of your houses in the direction of the balcony you had climbed down a few hours ago.

the sound of his voice had you stop in your tracks.

"but if it some day comes over me, and maybe it will.." he paused, seemingly searching for the right words.

you listened to him attentively, as your heart fluttered at his implication. it was like you could almost see the colour of his eyes, even if he was standing a few meters across from you, his body standing out against the light of the lantern down the street.

he was standing, his body facing in your direction and simply knowing that he was looking at you made your tummy churn. was this what friendship was supposed to be? or was it something different? was this love? did love really feel like that or where you going crazy?

theo cleared his throat, as he raised his voice so you could hear him clearly over the distance between you "just... don't blame me"

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zoropookie · 10 months ago

Text

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-four — not friends. (💋)

[[ ALL WRITTEN CHAPTER ]] tw: lots of swearing, slight violence

Hu Tao didn’t think it was going to be this thorough working with Heizou.

For the past thirty minutes since four o’ clock in the morning, Heizou’s been doing nothing except making sure everybody in the group they came with was asleep. Checking all of the rooms and making sure they were accounted for while Hu Tao stood at the crook of the doorway in front of where Scaramouche was sleeping.

She truly wanted to find it funny, being the prankster herself. But she wasn’t laughing. “If you’re going to be patient with this, we may as well wait until he wakes up.”

“You can’t interrupt a crime scene like this. They’d just apprehend you.” Heizou whispered back, as quiet as the stillness in the night, continuing to trace his own steps back to the other rooms.

Hu Tao’s patience wore thin as she clenched her teeth, trying to contain her frustration by grabbing his arm and clawing her manicured nails into the meat of his forearm. “This floor is about to be a crime scene if you don’t fucking lock in, buster. You’re about to ruin it for both of us!”

"Ouch- alright, alright. Let go." Heizou winced, taking her silent warning.

With a begrudging nod, Hu Tao released her iron grip and approached the door with cautious steps, Heizou holding his own phone with his camera open at the ready.

She paused, turning to him and pointed a finger. "Remember, we're just looking. Don't accidentally send anything to anyone."

"Don't need to tell me twice, I feel grimy just doing this."

"And not kidnapping the kid?"

"You want me to be a child predator so bad-" Heizou was able to finish his sentence until he was cut off by a rustling in the distance.

"What are you guys doing?" A small voice asked from afar.

The both of them froze, slowly turning their bodies towards the source of the noise. Even when the hallway was as big as it was, the sound didn't seem to echo through the stillness of the night.

But the rustling stopped once a silhouette appeared from under a blanket and began to rush towards the other two. Hu Tao's heart damn near fell out of her ass, flinching at how fast Nahida came into vision.

"Holy shit," Hu Tao held her hands up in faux defense.

Heizou squinted at the girl before crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you doing awake, Nahida. Growing children need their sleep every night."

"Spare me the patronizing, Heizou. What are you guys doing in front of his room?"

"Wow. I didn't even know what 'patronizing' meant at that age." Hu Tao puffed her cheeks. "Maybe you're right, Heizou. My bad."

Heizou narrowed his eyes, reveling in his victory for a bit until he cleared his throat. His demeanor shifted into a nonchalance. "We were about to talk a walk. Just happened to be in front of someone's room."

Nahida raised an eyebrow, "At four in the morning? Sneaking directly towards his room?"

"He has the better patio view." Hu Tao chimed in. "You know how it is, sometimes you just need a little bit of fresh air."

Nahida was obviously not buying it. "Right." She said with a drawl as she looked at Hu Tao and Heizou dubiously. "And I'm the Empress of Snezhnaya. Don't act like I don't know that you two are plotting to take Scaramouche down."

"Foiled again," Hu Tao gritted her teeth. "Okay, we wanted to see if he had anything on his phone. Who wouldn't be curious? That guys a briefcase of suspicion, and I'm going to open it."

Heizou cringed, shooting Hu Tao a glare before sighing. "Yeah, Nahida. This would be a huge step in my investigation."

"You're unbelievable." Nahida responded with a disappointed frown. "If you really were curious about whether Scaramouche was doing something, it'd be less of an issue to just...oh, you know, ask him yourself? Not invading his privacy?"

"Now you know me directly asking a question would cramp my style." Heizou huffed. "We're not going to do anything except gather evidence. If there is none, we're out right away. Okay?"

There was something that was aching in Nahida, almost as if no matter what were to happen if she let them do this, things were going to go entirely wrong. With or without this happening, there was no keeping it at bay.

"Just be careful." Nahida looked in between them, sighing as her expression softened by a lot. "Whatever you find, handle it responsibly. I'm sure he's been through a lot of trouble with his own people already. We don't need more of it."

Hu Tao saluted. "No unnecessary risks. Gotcha."

Within an hour, they found themselves sitting in the corner of Scaramouche's room, looking through his phone. The soft glow of his phone casting a shadow on their faces. Every now and then, Heizou would take photos from his camera of what he'd think would be evidence for the future.

The both of them fell silent, hardly making an effort to talk to each other as they both became too interested in the contents. For some reason, seeing his life so formulated and established made it harder for Hu Tao to go through it.

"I think I'm done." She whispered before sighing, leaning back against the wall. "He's not even that bad of a guy. Ei is just a publicity demon."

"You're giving up?" Heizou looked at her.

"Yeah. I thought I would be happier to look through his things, but it seems like..." While Hu Tao was taking brief glances, her eyebrows raised at a certain detail that she missed while she was sitting there. "Wait a minute...what's that?"

"Huh?"

"He has a second account." Hu Tao pointed at the screen once she swiped the menu to Twitter. "See? It's the little circle with the 3d girl on it."

"You can make second accounts linked to your main?" Heizou scrunched up his nose. "I guess that would've been nice to know when I posted my abs on social media and the office job I tried applying to found it."

Hu Tao stared at him for a second, wanting to respond, but shook her head and continue scanning through his feed. "Sneaky little fucker." She laughed in disbelief. "I mean, I guess not- it's all just random posts too. He's not following anyone on this ac-"

Once Hu Tao tapped on his icon, her eyes widened. There was a mountain sized chill that came coursing through her body. One that she thought she'd never experience ever since (Y/N) cursed the entire Inazuma group out on their livestream.

Justsofamous338. An account from the series of accounts from Justsofamous.

"Oh my go-" She stopped herself from being too loud. "Oh my...fucking god. Heizou..." She said, her breath failing her.

"Jackpot, eh?" Heizou murmured, staring interested at the screen.

Her hands visibly trembled as she pressed the messages, her eyes glued to the screen. There were no messages from this account in particular, but the fact that he was even signed in was indicator enough. "He posted on this account two times. Both cryptic, but he definitely knows that you're looking for who he is."

Heizou was genuinely in disbelief that they both were met with a side of the sleeping Scaramouche that they didn't know about until now. How? How was somebody like that so capable of what he said to (Y/N)?

Either way, Hu Tao felt herself come to a boiling point. And with that pent up anger that she's yet to know what to deal with, she hardly slept for the rest of the night.

You didn’t know where you were for a good minute.

Despite how long you were out for, there was a nagging feeling inside of you that you should wake up soon after all the stress left. Your eyes fluttered awake, leaving your body to be wracked by the copious amounts of physical exercise you did the night before. If there was one thing you hated doing in the morning, it was waking up in general…and hurting.

But even with your pain and disorient, you still managed to regain your consciousness. The memories of the previous night, and how embarrassing they were, flooding back. You put your head in your hands, groaning in a miserably agony. “Why did I say that?!” You yelled.

“Stupid, so stupid. What the fuck?!”

It hung heavy in your mind, eyes dulling. You weren’t about to let it ruin your day, but the more you sat alone in the room that used to have Tohma and Ayaka’s sleeping bodies, the more you wonder if you’re in the backrooms or not.

After a few moments of looking at the groovy texture and the zig zags of the clock, you felt your resolve return. You put on your socks and slip ons, heading towards the sliding door and opening it…

Only to be met with Scaramouche on the other side. You almost screamed, but not because of him. It was because of how the barely cooked meat of the Shoyu ramen in his hands was touching the rest of the ingredients.

“Ah yes, my reminder of the unfortunate appears again.” You murmured grimly.

“What?” Scaramouche couldn’t help but let out a small scoff.

“Nothing. Morning, Kuni. Didn’t take you to be the type to wake up on the dot.” You tilted your head. “Something’s gone awry.”

“I wanted to see how you were doing in there. It’s almost one in the afternoon.” Scara said, holding the ramen outward towards you. “Breakfast. It’s really hot, so be careful.”

“I already had breakfast, Kuni.” You said, eyeing the ramen warily.

“You just woke up.”

“Yeah?” You contested with the same amount of attitude he gave you. “It’s called eating in your sleep. I’m good off your red ass meat. You didn’t even cook it.”

“You don’t eat it when it’s red, dickhead. You put it in the broth to cook it. That’s why it’s a conversational dish.”

“Spoken as if you want to have…conversation with me?” You asked as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Man, just say you have it hot for me already. This is embarrassing.”

“You wish, chucklefuck.” Scara said disgustedly as his violet eyes moved from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He couldn’t get past how ridiculous your pajama set was. “Lightning McQueen?”

“Limited edition. Like my crocs too?” You put your hands in your pockets, sticking one leg out so he could look at the full set easier. “You can afford a house in this day and age, but I can afford something you’ll never be able to get a day in your life without pulling out a mortgage. Eat that.”

“I’m sure I can live without it.”

“Nobody can ever live without the kachow in their life.” You snickered, motioning him over to the table. “Thanks for the ramen.”

You couldn't shake off the weird feeling around you as you sat down with him at the dining table. Tohma and Ayaka were already out of bed somewhere, and none of the rest were around to your knowledge.

You found yourself lingering in the ruminating thought, dipping the meat in the broth for a minute. "Hm," You mulled, "Long start to the day, huh? Were you the first awake?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." He shrugged, "I wanted to make sure everyone was accounted for."

"Ooh, the hospitality." You smiled. "Looks like you're already ahead of everyone else. Always on top of things."

"Are you impressed?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Impressed? Slightly. Planning to take advantage of it? Quite." You tried to keep your tone casual in case it was just you that felt this way. "Hey, uh...sorry about last night."

As he looked up, meeting your gaze, you almost wanted to look away. You could tell that he was trying to think about it. "What did you do last night?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to broach the topic. "...If you forgot about it, it probably wasn't even that important."

Even though the both of them sat in a comfortable silence, it was suddenly broken by Hu Tao busting through the doors of where she was "sleeping". Whatever was solidified as peace throughout their silence was destroyed, as there was now obvious tension.

Her eyes darted between the two of you, and you could practically see the metaphorical gears turning in her mind as she approached. She was visibly stiff, lacking any lax in her jaw. "Nice to grace us with your presence Scaramouche. Or something like that." You exchanged a hesitant glance with her, sitting back in your chair once you put a piece of meat in your mouth. "Did you just wake up? Why are you all clammy?" "No." Hu Tao hissed. "You thought you were fucking notorious, didn't you? Thought that you could just decide to coexist with us, huh?"

"What are you on about?" Scaramouche's brows furrowed.

"You tell me, Justsofamous." Hu Tao's voice was almost gravelly and aggravated, tossing her phone with all of the evidence popped up in her photos app. A storm was live and raging inside of her veins, turbulent and fierce. "Yeah, thought you could hoe us all out with that one? Playing with us like some fools, taking advantage of our obliviousness. Fuck you."

Your mouth twitched in disbelief looking at the said photos, looking slowly back at Scaramouche.

His face didn't say anything particularly outstanding, but there was something wrong about how he looked rather than his neutrality. Your heart began to beat with an extra pulse than you were accustomed to, trying to keep the adrenaline at bay.

"What's she talking about?" You asked him, holding the chopsticks in your hand with a tighter grip. "Scaramouche?"

"Scaramouche is Justsofamous, and him and Aether are like this." Hu Tao locked her fingers together. "They never stopped talking to each other. In fact, he's literally in the same group chat as all of our ops. Crazy, right?" Hu Tao shouted, causing the rest of the group to come out from where they were to see the scene.

You faltered in your look, feeling your entire being be worn down by the sudden outcome of your morning. "Scaramouche, say something." Tears formed in your eyes, entire face intense. "Say something..." You whispered.

But even though he was being put on the spot, there was no other way he could put it other than a small sigh in the end. "Surprise." He sat back, staring at you dead in the eye with uncertainty.

You became molten lava on the inside. Your hands were trembling with the same mixture of rage that burned within you like hot coals. And then all of a sudden, it was like all of the things that he called you, the blatant way he talked to you before he even knew you, his lack of hesitance when he poured coffee on you. The way he insulted you proudly, despite being in the wrong. He wasn't betting on being your friend, nor even an acquaintance. You knew, and you still gave him the benefit of the doubt.

He was taunting you.

In the grip of your emotions, your vision went red. Like a tempest unleashed against your body, you raged. The tears streaming down your cheeks were bitter, you were being crushed by a boulder of betrayal. "You...YOU!" You could barely make out your words from how choked up you were.

You rose from your chair in a flash, your chest ragged and heaving as you knocked the Shoyu ramen on the ground, the crash of glass and the food slightly burning you. "You fucking asshole!" You screamed louder and louder, and began coming closer and closer towards Scaramouche, pushing him.

"You got a fucking kick out of it, didn't you?! You LOVED acting like the savior, just so I could get comfortable. Fuck. You. You cum gargling piece of fucking shit!" You started pushing on his shoulder to intimidate him. "Tell me how much you loved getting under my fucking skin! Huh?! TELL ME." You screamed in his face, but you couldn't even bare to listen to him.

Your cries strangled your throat as Tohma held you back. You noticed Scaramouche's face pale, trying so hard not to break his composure but now refusing to make eye contact with you. His expression betrayed him, and you knew that he regretted it, but unsure of whether he meant it.

Did it matter anyway? You destroyed everything in your path, from paintings to throwing furniture around. Nothing was left untouched until Tohma held you back. His grip on your arms tightened, his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos. "Hey, calm down. It's not worth it."

You were almost beyond reason until then, you dropped to your knees despite all the force keeping you from it, and you sobbed violently. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You said with a full voice, screaming again, this time in a lot more pain your heart could exuberate. "You're rotten, Scaramouche. You're fucking rotten."

Having everything shattered in you wasn't fair, you knew it, and so did he. It's why he stared down at you with a flicker of vulnerability, a crack in the facade of his own indifference.

And no matter how much he wanted to respond, to defend himself, he couldn't. Because in the end, maybe all that this situation was destined for was damnation.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks @liuaneee @yumejo89 (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

#zoropookie #hhab #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year ago

Text

A Perfect Score - Chapter 5 - Ice Princess | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: Moving on to the North, before the match with Cregan and Sara, everything comes to a head | Word Count: 7.2k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* jealous!aemond, swearing, degradation, heaps of sexual tension, one room in the hotel trope, aemond being a sexual menace, a lot of dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, creampie, mild angst

A/N: *me barking writing all the warnings* I ain't got nothing else to say I-

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

“What the fuck was that?!” El shouts over the video call, making you cradle your face in your hands.

She’s showing you her front camera, tapping on the TV in front of her as she rewinds the footage of your routine at Casterly Rock. She must have replayed that specific part about ten times now.

She taps the screen harshly, “Look at that! You’re fucking blushing, you whore!”

“El, please” you reply, exasperated.

“Is that a fucking bruise on your leg”

"El!" You shout over the phone, making her press her lips together in a mischievous grin.

"Did you get a bit too cozy?" She teases,

"Fuck off"

"You both look completely different. Also that triple spin, that was fucking perfect"

"Thank you" you say flatly, rolling your eyes, remembering doing it in the routine.

You don't remember the time between the dressing room and getting on the ice. Just the steady hum of the crowd's applause as the announcer welcomed the representatives of the Crownlands.

"Performing second is Aemond Targaryen with his not-so-new skating partner, who proved herself significantly in the deciding match for the Championship tour"

"They were both very icy in that performance. Let's see if anything has improved"

You run over all the jumps and spins, in case your mind is so preoccupied that you've somehow forgotten. Smoothing down your hair and your skirt, desperately trying to hide any proof of his fingerprints, you take your spot in the middle of the ice.

For this routine, it begins with Aemond facing you, and when he pauses to a halt before you, you meet his gaze briefly, feeling the warmth creeping up to your cheeks.

Before he left the dressing room, he looked nervous. But that facade is gone. He looks deadly serious, and you hate to admit that the look he's giving you, performance or not, is so piercing and purposeful that it's almost exciting. Arousing? No, focus.

At the other match, his touch had been calculated, firm and almost rigid. His movements were largely the same, as you had pointed out only the day before. But now, his touch is so whisper soft it's almost undetectable. His fingers dance across your bare skin, a path of goosebumps left in their wake. Except this time, his eyes barely ever leave yours, fully aware of the effect of his touch and a ghost of a smile lob-sided on his face.

Every single touch of his hands on your waist to lift you, every hold to lunge into a jump together and every shared gaze never fails to have your stomach roll pleasantly inside you, settling between your thighs where Aemond had touched you not a moment before.

You come together, skating backwards for the triple spin. His hands brace your waist, and you swallow anxiously.

"Remember to tuck your arms in" he whispers, you nod, running over what you need to do, "you've got this"

"I'm seeing a stark difference in attitude in this performance. Perhaps our icy couple are starting to warm up"

Taking a steadying breath, Aemond does as he needs and flings you in the air, ready to catch you once you've done one, two, three spins, before taking your hand once you land.

Right leg, push…

You can't help but smile when you land it. That's the best feeling in the world, when the crowd applauds.

"She's done it! Another graceful landing!"

You release the breath you'd been tightly holding, gliding through the rest of the routine with Aemond to the view of the stands, some of them stood and some seated in applause.

It's only when you are stopped, with Aemond's arms around your middle and feeling his hurried breath against your back, that you can finally form a thought. Your heart beats furiously in your chest, lungs dry.

"Well done" he breathes, hot against the shell of your ear. The praise goes straight to your core.

"Oop, I saw that look. Perhaps the Ice Prince has an Ice Princess in his sights"

"Oh come on, look at the way he's looking at you!" El beams over the video call, tearing you from your thoughts, "I swear to all the gods, if y'all don't smash-"

"Can I have one conversation with you that isn't about fucking please?"

El pulls a face, "What can I say. Hoes United. Are you kidding me? Ice Princess? He better be calling you princess between the sheet-"

"Goodbye, El"

You hang up, heaving a large sigh, staring forwards at the bed with your packed duffle bag, ready to depart once again in the car with Arryk.

It was clear as day, the difference between you and Aemond. The attitude.

The commentators dubbed you his 'Ice Princess', a nickname which you hate immensely. Several reporters had flocked to the hotel you were both staying in, all hanging around Arryk's car waiting for a chance to speak to the famed 'couple'.

The match was a success at least, no doubt because of the 'warming up' to one another, as the commentators graciously put it. You received good scores, marginally better technically than Johanna and Jason but ultimately winning most on performance, the former of which wiggled her eyebrow at you as she hugged you in congratulations during scoring.

She didn't dare say anything. The cameras would pick it up, no doubt.

A seasoned pro in that respect.

As per usual, you and Aemond were hauled into the back of Arryk's car provided by Hightower Management, sat together on opposite ends.

Also as usual, Aemond had his airpods shoved inside his ears, turned away towards the window. Usually, you'd be able to hear the music blasting through his earphones. But you couldn't hear a thing.

Perhaps he just wanted to be left alone.

His hands were clasped tight in his lap, his left leg bouncing. And you had to turn away towards your own window to stop staring at him in his sweatpants, feeling your face and neck get hot just thinking about what happened between you two.

The journey to Winterfell was several hours. You couldn't possibly be faster getting out the car and grabbing your stuff, walking straight past Aemond to go into the foyer of 'The Lone Wolf', a humble yet large hotel in the heart of Winterfell. Owned by none other than the Stark Family, so the idea of seeing Cregan before the match sent anxious flutters in your stomach.

"Good morning, Miss" the receptionist says with a polite customer service brimmed smile.

"Hello, uh, should be some rooms booked under Hightower?"

She nods, her fingernails clicking against the keyboard, "Just let me check for you…"

You ignore the white-haired male in your periphery, leaning against the desk by one of his forearms, one airpod now safely tucked away. When you spare a brief glance, he's not looking at you, but at the woman as she types quickly, flexing his fingers on the desk. You swallow thick at the closeness, sidestepping an inch.

The lady pulls a face.

"I'm afraid there seems to have been an administrative issue with the booking…"

Your skin starts to erupt in worry, "what issue?.."

The receptionist meets your eyes, her lips drawn flat in apology, "There is only one room on the Hightower booking…"

You go cold all over, staring back for a long moment without saying anything.

"A twin?" you ask,

She shakes her head, "a double.."

Your hand braces your forehead, leaning against the desk, "Fuck"

An awkward silence passes before you ask, "there aren't any other rooms?"

"I'm afraid not. We're full because of the skating match in a few days"

Aemond bites the inside of his cheek, his face stoic, "Is there a sofa? In the room?"

She reluctantly nods, "Yes but only a 2 seater-"

"That's fine" Aemond says immediately, holding his hand out and clapping the keycard in his grasp. He sighs and turns to you, smirking slightly at the horrified look on your face, "Let's go then, business partner"

You feel like you stand stock still, frozen into place, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of sharing such intimate space with Aemond.

I've got to be the most fucking unlucky person in Westeros.

By the time you catch your breath, having checked to see if Arryk had already left (which unfortunately he had), you're walking hurriedly to the room, standing before the numbered door for a moment as if to psych yourself up for the next day and a bit that will be inevitably be spent in extremely close proximity with Aemond.

The hotel room is luckily wide, with an en-suite situated in the corner as well as a wide curved window that looks out over the roof of another building. Aemond shucks his bag onto the sofa, his well muscled back moves as he unzips it and pulls his belongings out.

He barely moves his head, "You gonna unpack or just stand there?"

Hot embarrassment combined with subtle anger nips at your insides. You pull your lips into a flat line to hold you back from retorting and huff your bag onto the bed, pulling off your jacket.

Aemond won't stop you from getting comfortable.

"Will you fit on that 2-seater?"

Aemond shrugs, still busied with unpacking, "I've slept on worse"

Usually, unpacking is a time for relaxation, making a home of the hotel room. But here, with Aemond, it feels like you're on guard the entire time, methodically grabbing the more intimate items of clothing and putting them away as quickly as you can.

Suddenly, the shorts you're wearing feels just a bit too revealing, the hem lapping at your thighs barely. Every now and then, you feel his gaze on them, setting every hair on edge. But when you look back at him, he just does that little lob-sided smug smile, pretending to be busy with something else.

You push your palms over the skirt of your dress anxiously, feeling a nervous sweat coat them "Okay well…" you murmur awkwardly, "I'm gonna…to go downstairs for a bit"

You're barely turned, hand on the door when Aemond chuckles, low, in his chest, "Desperate to get away from me, hm?"

You freeze, not daring to turn back. All you can hear is the soft press of his trainers on the carpet as he turns away, and you just know he's looking at you.

The inside of your mouth is so dry.

"I know what you're thinking, I can see it on your face" he muses quietly, his voice edging closer to your back as you're frozen on the spot, "I know you've been thinking about what we did, in the dressing room"

No I haven't.

Yes I have.

Fuck.

As much as the thoughts whizz around your head, they don't make the connection to your mouth. You can feel how close Aemond must be to your back, and your fingers tighten over the handle of the door.

"You have, haven't you?" He grins darkly, his voice an octave lower, quieter, more calculated, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it"

Your breath is stuck in your ribs, arousal pooling slowly in your belly, like the calm tide of the ocean sweeping in to wet the sand.

You feel his breath against your neck and ear, blowing the hair at the side of your face. His mere presence behind you.

"See you tonight"

Almost as soon as he says it, you're out the door, pushing it shut behind you forcefully. Shutting out the feeling that you desperately want to disappear. The mere memory of his hands on your bare thighs that day sets urgency in your core, hands clenched tight at your sides.

But more than anything, the way he kissed you, was the feeling you remembered the most. You recall moments after he'd rushed out, touching your kiss-swollen lips, willing the feeling of them back, realising just what line had been crossed.

Aemond Targaryen was an infuriatingly good kisser. Just like the way he moves on the ice, he's smooth and deliberate, taking his time. And it translated in the passion of that moment, the way his hand had grasped the back of your neck, and the other had spread your legs to accommodate him standing between them…

…How his hardness had pressed against your clothed core.

Aemond had been aroused.

Everything you thought about him, about how he felt about you, could very well be misplaced.

You don't know how to feel about that.

It goes against everything you thought. Everything you believed.

And he still hasn't apologised. He'd said pretty words, all but those two you really needed.

Nothing would happen until he did. You'd make sure of that.

Torture him right back. It's the least he deserves.

Prick.

The hotel bar is better than anticipated, with several tables and chairs, even stools that line the front of the large oak counter on one side of the room. You don't usually partake in drinking, or at least much. But every now and then you feel you deserve it.

And right now for example, it's taking the edge off.

The large glass windows show you just how dark outside it already is, with the streetlights beaming through the single glazing. The North is different, obviously, but you didn't quite consider the weather.

Your muscles ache from doing your cardio, choosing to train on the ice tomorrow instead, the day before the match with Cregan and Sara. The hotel gym was nice, and each time you went into the hotel room to change, you worried about running into Aemond.

But luckily he was nowhere to be found.

Where he'd gone?

Not your problem, you surmise.

You were dressed once again in black, but nowhere near as flashy as the after-party from weeks before, but still a nice enough dress that it completely didn't work with the use of a bra. Hightower Management had organised a small get-together of the skaters currently in the North, as a way of showing support, despite all of you being quite literally competitors.

This includes the Singles skaters.

With that, they insisted you and Aemond look presentable.

You were there early, as a means of…avoiding Aemond in the hotel room. With so far, success.

A few figures begin to leak into the bar area, a few you don't recognise, but then a sea of silver-hair you actually would like to see.

Baela and Rhaena, clad in equally stunning blue dresses, bound up to you with gleaming teethy smiles. You stand excitedly meeting them in the middle, a shared female squeal of excitement is the only sound emitted.

"There she is!" Baela shouts, and both the twins envelop you in an equally tight hug.

"Jesus, guys there's only one of me, bit looser please" you joke, pretending to be out of breath.

They pull back, their silver curls sitting loose with silver accessories, "Our Ice Princess!" Rhaena jabs with a mischievous smile.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "Don't you fucking start, I've had enough of that"

Baela laughs, "had enough of your Ice Prince as well?"

You give her a warning look and the twins hold back their smile, dropping the subject as per your glare. Knowing how you can get.

"How is Pairs?" Rhaena asks,

You sigh, "Different" is all you respond, "How's Singles? Rhaenys giving you a hard time?"

They both groan comically at the same time, "is she? When is she not giving us a hard time? She's our grandmother"

You laugh, sipping your drink, "Ah yeah, forgive me, I do forget sometimes she's a gilf"

"She's not a gilf!" Baela retorts, making you snort a laugh. Almost dropping the glass in your hand.

"Who's not a gilf?"

You all turn and beam, "Jace! When did you get here!" Baela throws herself at him, as does Rhaena as soon as her sister lets go. Sometimes you forget they're cousins, they look so different.

"Hi Jace" you smile, "How have you been?" You ask giving him a hug, which he returns with one hand politely on your back.

"Alright, competitions kicking my ass though"

"Oh dear" you pout, faking a sad face and patting his shoulder, "You'll get over it"

"Thanks, you're so kind" Jace grins.

Over his shoulder you spot him, lurking in a corner with a phone pressed to his ear.

Aemond.

He's dressed all in black again, hair in a loose bun, with a button down and dress pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a chain that glints beneath the collar. You swallow at his expression.

He doesn't look pleased in the slightest.

But annoyingly, he does look good.

His eye flits from you and Jace, before realising that you're watching him, to which his attention falls entirely to you. You wonder if he's actually on the phone since he doesn't say anything.

"There she is. The Ice Princess" Cregan Stark obstructs your view for a moment and you smile politely.

"Hi, Cregan-umf"

Your outstretched hand in greeting is completely ignored as Cregan pulls you into a hug, his massive form completely swallowing yours.

"You're in the North, we hug here" he laughs, the vibrations rumbling through your chest, his hand politely in the middle of your back to gently squeeze the hug for longer than you'd think.

Your eyes immediately go to Aemond, over his shoulder. He hasn't moved an inch. But he's hung up his phone, slapping it on his thigh to shove into his pocket. You can't pin down what that look is, but the muscle in his jaw tenses when he looks at Cregan, softening into a smirk when the Northerner pulls away.

Your throat feels tight.

"I know you've been thinking about what we did, in the dressing room"

He doesn't look away, eyes trained on your body. Unabashedly raking over it.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it"

"Drinks!" Baela announces, dragging you luckily to the bar, breaking your staring competition with Aemond.

As the night progresses, you get to know Cregan and Sara. They couldn't be more different from one another, despite being half siblings. Sara has a fire in her belly, and a competitive eye, whereas Cregan is like a big, muscly Northern golden retriever. He looks like the kind of guy who lifts at the gym in one breath and in another would be having afternoon tea with his grandmother.

The duality takes you off guard multiple times during the night.

Jace and Cregan at least seem very close, having trained together multiple times. They're like long lost brothers, the way Cregan has him in a soft headlock as they wobble back to the bar, is proof enough.

Sara leans close to you, "Is he always like that?"

"Who?" You ask, sipping the drink you've been nursing for hours. Not wanting to get drunk in the slightest.

She nods to the corner, "Your Ice Prince. Aptly named by the way he stares at you"

You follow her line of sight, your core instantly clenching at the sight of him. Perhaps you hadn't really realised it before but several of his top buttons are undone, showing more of his skin at a formal event than he had previously.

You swallow, "Oh, uh, yeah he is. Ignore him"

Sara smirks, "Girl, he wants to fuck you. Can you not see that?"

You turn urgently to her, cheeks ablaze, "That's not true"

Sara hums smugly, "Denial is a river in Egypt. He looked like he wanted to tear Jace's head off when you hugged him"

"Jace is just a friend"

"Oh good, so he's available?" Sara raises her eyebrows.

Now it's your turn to smirk, "Are you after him?"

She shrugs, "he's not bad looking. Guy like him might look harmless but I bet he's freaky between the sheets. With a massive c-"

"Sara!" Cregan interrupts, seeing your screwed up face, clearly having heard everything, "Can we have a moment alone?"

She doesn't even need a second, before she prances off in Jace's direction, giving him the big eyes. Cregan leads you to the bar by the small of your back, and you can't tell if he's oblivious to how intimate that is, or if it's intentional, but when he does it you can't help but look in Aemond's direction, who's being hounded by Baela, but clearly not listening.

Cregan smirks in Sara's direction, "Poor guy. Being in Sara's sights is never good"

You laugh, "She'll eat him alive"

"Quite literally I think" Cregan chuckles in return.

There's a pause as you lean against the bar.

"How's life with the Targs?" He asks, one large hand encircling a pint glass effortlessly.

You shrug, "Has it's trials and tribulations, but otherwise they've treated me well enough"

Cregan looks around before leaning forward, murmuring in a hushed manner, "All I would say is, be weary of the big guy"

You cock your head, "You mean Otto?"

He points his finger like you've hit the nail on the head, "Yeah, him. I heard he's a right fucking stickler"

You nod, "He's very particular" you smile, reassuringly, "I manage though"

Cregan is about to open his mouth when Aemomd steps forward, his tall stature rivaling Cregans as he makes himself known. The Northern man fakes a smile, nodding in greeting, but neither says anything.

Before you can inquire, Aemond's hand encircles your forearm, "We're leaving"

"What?" You ask wide-eyed, wondering from where this rudeness has come from.

Aemond tugs you away, and you wave goodbye to Cregan as well as Baela and Rhaena, whose eyes you catch across the room. Sara wiggles her eyebrows.

Aemond doesn't reply, so you fight against his grip, to no avail, "Aemond let go of me. Now"

It's clear Aemond is not listening, and if he is, he doesn't show it on his face. He even stops by the lift, pressing the buttons hurriedly, but once he sees which floor it's coming from, he grumbled and drags you instead up the stairs.

"Aemond, what the fuck is wrong with you!"

"Not having that northern cunt cosying up to you" he murmurs low, dragging you up the four flights of stairs to your floor. Luckily there's nobody there to see you both, it's so late at night.

His face is stoic, lips flat in a line, seething underneath.

"Are you fucking for real? Let go of me!"

It's only when you're in the hallway, stood before the hotel room door that you manage to pull your arm free of him.

"Are you fucking deaf?" You quip angrily, "what the hell was that Aemond?" You push against his chest as hard as you can, but he's built like a fucking brick wall and doesn't move an inch. Doesn't even lose his balance a little.

He doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Do I have to repeat myself? I'm not your fucking girlfriend Aemond! Stop treating me like one"

"You'd rather me let you have the likes of Cregan fucking Stark trying to get into your-"

"So what? What right do you fucking have to boss me around like you own me?" You retort, "besides he was just being nice!"

Aemond chuckles, "Oh yeah, just being nice. He only had one thing on his mind" he smirks, his gaze raking over your dress, "dressed like that, who knows what he was thinking"

"Excuse m-"

Down the hall, a room clicks open, the shadow of it moving barely before Aemond tugs you inside the hotel room out of view. He shuts the door and locks it quickly, his fingers once again curled around your forearm.

"I swear to god, if you grab me more time-"

Aemond scoffs, releasing and facing you, dwarfing you with his form as he approaches, "Or what, princess?"

You swallow, backing up somewhat when he takes his calculated small steps towards you. His chest level with your eyes, you see the chain poking out beneath the undone buttons, the slightest bit of skin…

"Don't call me that"

"Who can blame Cregan fucking Stark anyway? With you dressed like that" Aemond responds, invading your space even further.

Your throat goes dry, "What?.."

"The second I saw you in that flimsy little thing, all I've been able to think about, is how I'm going to take it off"

Through your fierce blush, you clench your hands, your core doing the same involuntarily, "you're delusional"

He hums a laugh, "You're cute when you're trying to be angry, princess"

You feel how short your breathing is, how your chest goes all tight. It feels like being hunted, when he looks at you like that. That mischievous glint in his good eye.

"What is your fucking deal, hm?" You retort, feeling a last rush of courage, "Does it give you some sick satisfaction making my life hell? First you hate me, then you're indifferent, then you're hating me all over again and now you're acting like th-"

His hand claps around your waist, squeezing painfully, tugging you towards him in a deep, near-desperate and dizzying kiss. Much like the first one in the dressing room, it's urgent, his lips prying yours apart to slip his tongue into your mouth, humming deeply at the contact with yours. His other hand quickly finds the back of your head, anchoring you with him and chests touching only barely.

Everything dissipates, he's a good fucking kisser annoyingly, and he sucks briefly on your lips, making the blood rush to them so that they're swollen from his attention.

Your brain, lost in the brief act of passion, kicks in finally and your hands push him away. Your lips part from each other with a wet click, your face noticeably flush. Aemond too, looks slightly flushed, but wears a smug expression.

"What the hell was that"

"You reciprocated" he answers matter-of-factly,

"In your dreams"

He hums, "So stubborn. Are you always like this?"

"Fuck you"

"In the dressing room, you were so intent to continue" he replies, stepping forward slightly from when you'd pushed him, "If we weren't due to perform, nothing would have stopped me from fucking you right on that table in your sparkly little get-up"

You can't deny how the air gets sucked out your chest when he says that. Hate and lust are head to head inside you, battling for dominance.

"You'd like that wouldn't you…"

It's the way he says the words, so low and calculated, with that lazy smirk. His lips just as kiss bruised as yours, the few strands of hair that fell from his bun, disheveled.

All of your pent up hormones from not having slept with anyone for ages, the memory of what he did in the dressing room, as well as the sight of him right here, giving you that fucking look…

Every fucking look he's given you the past few weeks.

The memory of his hand on your thigh, squeezing.

Every hand against the small of your back…

…something snaps.

"Fuck it" you whisper, advancing on him again, both hands cupping the sides of his face and kissing him fiercely again, putting all those bottled up emotions, good and bad, behind the intensity of it.

You feel him smile smugly against you, his hands rested on your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress, "Fucking knew it" he murmurs between the breaks of both your hateful kisses.

One hand sliding round to the back of his head, you card your fingers into his hair, inevitably ruining whatever style he had it in, to pull him closer to you, intensifying the neediness of his lips against yours. You swear he moans at the tugging of his hair, but you don't even hear it, too concentrated on his teeth as they nip at your bottom lip, nursing the area with his tongue afterwards.

A full body shudder erupts through you, sending a gush of arousal straight between your legs. It makes you feel weightless.

As if that weren't enough, Aemond's hands drop, cupping and kneading the flesh of your ass, squeezing near-painfully. The unexpectedness of it makes you gasp into his mouth as he pulls your core that bit closer to his hips, where you can feel the evidence of his arousal hard in his dress pants.

Your hands can't help but explore him as well as he is for you, running across the planes of his well-muscled chest, feeling them strain under your touch like he's holding back. Your fingers run over his chain, dipping to undo the buttons with dizzying speed.

"Eager, are we?" He whispers cockily between kisses.

You shoot him a scathing look, punctuating your words with the rough undoing of more buttons.

"Do you ever shut up"

He doesn't reply, too entranced by the softness of your touch on his bare pale skin as it's revealed button by button. His own hands trace up your middle, over your ribs and straight past your breasts to the straps of your dress, tangling his fingers into one and them and pulling it over your shoulder. Not quite enough to expose any intimate part of you.

Fuck, he's teasing you.

His lips migrate past yours, his nose ghosting over your cheek to your neck, where his lips tease the sensitive skin with open-mouthed kisses, teeth nipping at the space where it meets your shoulder. It's rougher than anticipated, and a soft breathy moan slips out, only serving to spur him on.

His one hand on our waist pushes you back, your knees hitting the mattress sending your body against it. He follows you, cushioning the fall and looming over you, using one of his knees to edge your legs apart for him.

In the heat of it all you've managed at least to get his shirt entirely open, shifting the fabric from his shoulders, shamelessly appreciating the shape of him. Your fingers trail that little bit of hair leading beneath his belt, feeling how the muscles of his abdomen flex with the contact, hearing the whisper of a low moan in his throat.

It's only when your hand begins to massage the very obvious and, you hate to say it, impressive bulge of his erection, that Aemond lets out a shuddered quiet moan, his breath fluttering against your neck.

You smirk, "Eager, are we?" You tease, echoing his previous words.

It's like a switch flipped and Aemond rights himself slightly, one hand taking both of yours and pinning them above your head in a very sudden act of dominance. He revels in the shocked look on your face, his black shirt now forgotten on the floor.

"Keep them there. You won't like it if I have to ask twice, Princess"

His voice send a bolt of pleasure to your core, and you visibly swallow nervously, watching his hands dip to your thighs and pushing the fabric of your dress up to your hips.

You jump in your place as Aemond's hands brace your thighs roughly, parting them and bringing his lips to the sensitive skin on the inside, trailing them up slowly, teasingly, to place an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed core.

"You have no idea what you do to me" he murmurs against you, wrapping the hem of your underwear around his fingers and tugging them off your legs. The motion, as quick as he does it, leaves your lungs breathless for a moment as he descends and kisses the now bare skin on the crease where your hip meets your thigh.

"Aemon-"

Aemond's tongue swipes through your slick folds and he groans low at the taste which sends a deep thrum of want through your core, making everything seem just too much to bear. Too much and yet too little all at the same time.

"Fuck, baby…"

You can feel your thighs shaking against his grip as he keeps them parted for him. It halts every thought in your mind, back arching off the bed as he delves deeper, his tongue parting your folds to fuck you with the wet muscle repeatedly. It feels like he's trying to discover places inside you, as deep as they may be, to make you fall apart.

The angle has your lips parted with hurried breaths, head thrown back against the bed, struggling to keep quiet with the way his nose moves side to side against your aching bundle of nerves.

"Fuck…Aemond…"

It feels like as soon as the pressure begins to build in your belly, he comes away, his lips glistening with your slick, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. His eyes gleam with mischief.

"What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"

Before anger even has a chance to reach you, he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep inside you, instantly curled up trying to find that sweet spot inside. Your thighs shut around his hand, effectively trapping him there, a slew of desperate moans filling the silence in the room, as well as the wet smack of his hand as he fucks you with his fingers.

" - ah, fuck, Aemond - "

He grins, "Fuck you're soaked for me…" he muses, increasing the intensity, pistoning them inside you, "...come on, baby…"

He finds that spot with infuriating accuracy, aided by the thickness and length of his fingers, stretching your pussy as he watches them disappear, covered in your arousal.

Your back arches impossibly, thighs squeezed tight. And he smirks in victory.

"There it is…"

Logic, reality, everything is just absolutely gone. Mind blank, and all you're able to think is just him. The pleasure he is giving you. His words. It's all just too much.

The coil in your belly threatens to snap at any moment, the pads of his fingers bullying your g-spot mercilessly. So much you can feel your slick soak his hand and the insides of your thighs.

And just like that.

It's gone.

Your crane your head to him, looking up as he kneels between your legs, outright moaning as he swipes his digits through his lips into his mouth. Tasting you.

Your clit throbs at the lewd action, as well as the fact he's enjoying it so much. Feeling your face flushed and heat bathing your skin.

His hands drop to his belt, "You look so fucking perfect like this" he says, the sound of the leather slipping from his dress pants sending a bolt of arousal back to the place you need him most.

"Don't look at me like that" he smirks, his fists closing around the buttons, "the first time I make you cum, it's going to be on my cock"

You would think of some kind of quip, but Aemond tugs his underwear down, his cock springing free, and his hand coming to stroke himself to full hardness. The motion has you captivated, and inadvertently makes your thighs press together.

Aemond is big. Perhaps bigger than anyone you've had before. He is slightly curved, leaning slightly to the right, and as he strokes himself, his thumb swipes whatever precum comes out his weeping pink tip all over his cockhead, sighing softly at the relief of it. Your breath is momentarily stolen once you realise how his large hand encircles it, making it clear how thick he is on top of all that.

Annoyingly, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen.

As a last ditch attempt to keep up appearances, your eyes meet his.

"What makes you think I'd let you?" You challenge, "you've not apologised to me yet"

Quite unexpectedly, he smirks, laughing lowly.

"Oh, Princess" he whispers, one hand pulling the rucked up fabric of the dress at your waist and removing it, tearing the fabric over your head and leaving you entirely naked and exposed. The sensation of the fabric and cool air has your nipped harden to attention, and Aemond sighs appreciatively as he kneads one breast in his palm.

He leans down, his tongue darting out to tease the skin around your nipple, "I am sorry" he muses condescendingly, before closing one nipple around his lips, tongue swirling against it. You're unable to do anything but press your lips together to stifle a moan.

Aemond pays special attention, lapping at it like a man starved, humming and pleased at the reaction he gets when he grazes his teeth over it. He pulls off with a gentle pop, kissing the valley of your breasts, his cock hanging heavily against your thigh. So close, and yet still feels so far away.

He reaches away for a second to go for his wallet on the bedside table, but your hand moves quickly to capture his wrist. His piercing gaze looks down at you questioningly.

"I'm clean…" you say, face hot with embarrassment, "...and I'm on birth control"

Aemond grins wolfishly at the admission, leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck, "Someone's prepared"

You gasp when he drags the head of his cock up your folds, parting them only slightly.

"You just want it raw, don't you?"

From this action alone you can feel how wet you are, and when he taps his cockhead against your clit a few times sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, it's obvious when it smacks wetly against your skin.

"Now baby, it's just you and me. I want to hear you when I fuck you. Understood?"

You nod, dizzy from just how much he's teasing you.

"Just fuck me" you plead, annoyance colouring your tone.

He laughs through his nose and your mouth drops open when he pushes into you, splitting you open on his thick cock, slowly working his way inside.

"I'm going to fuck that little attitude right out of you"

Fuck.

Aemond bottoms out inside you, stilling for a moment for you to adjust but also for him to catch his bearings. He breathes in shuddered bursts against your neck, his stomach flexing and fists tightened either side of your head.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight…can feel you squeezing me…" he moans softly against your ear, pushing himself as far inside you as he can possibly go. It has your eyes fluttering shut as his length tucks against that sweet spot, filling you aggravatingly perfectly, the walls of your pussy stretching deliciously to take him.

"Shit-Aemond…" you mewl as he shallowly fucks himself into you a few times, craving friction, craving what glimpse you saw of him earlier, "...please…"

Resting on his forearms, one hand ventures to your thigh to spread you further apart as he pulls almost all the way out.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely"

All air seems to be stolen out of your lungs and replaced with warming bliss as Aemond's slams back inside, his hips immediately pressing with a loud smack against you as he thrusts ceaselessly, holding both of your thighs in his palms.

With every harsh push inside, a soft, moan-like breath slips from your lips. Gods, when was the last time someone fucked you, as in properly fucked you, like this? Probably longer than you'd like to admit. That Highgarden guy left you high and dry, and even the guys before that, they probably thought girls had one hole, so knew little about how to pleasure you.

It's clear Aemond doesn't share this trait, and your thought process is immediately zipped from your past sexual encounters to right now as Aemonds thumb begins to deftly gather your arousal on it to circle around your clit, setting every nerve alight.

"Stubborn and a brat?" He muses, applying a delicious amount of pressure to that needy bundle of nerves, "I thought I made myself very clear, Princess. I want to hear you"

He punctuates his demand with two particularly harsh thrusts, your arousal sounding almost pornographic in nature.

Whether you want to or not, your lips part more to let your sounds of pleasure fill the room, the ceaseless sounds of your fucking alongside it. Your hands fist the bedsheets and Aemond hums appreciatively watching your breasts and body move with every motion.

He rewards you by increasing the speed of his motions, practically fucking you into the mattress. It's here that is the first time you see Aemond let his face show what he's feeling. That smug, cocksure smirk he has worn since arriving back at the hotel room drops, and his jaw slackens, his eye hooded to look down at you with reverence.

"Fuck-baby, I can feel you, you're going to cum for me aren't you-" he moans, his hips never letting up their pace, "shit-feels so good. Been dreaming of this for fucking weeks"

"Aemond-" you moan softly, turning your head, closing your eyes, feeling all exposed to him when he looks at you like that. The pressure in your gut is absolutely set to explode, and you feel that coil tighten impossibly.

Your throat tightens as Aemond leans down, his hips hitting the flesh of your thighs as he continues to piston his cock inside you, the chain around his neck dangling arousingly above you.

You feel him grab your face, turning you to face him, your eyes slightly hooded with pleasure but looking right at him. It's so intimate, it makes your skin feel like it's on fire.

His expression is serious.

"I want you to look at me when I make you cum"

Your hand joins his wrist, guiding him to your neck, and his jaw slackens again when he realises what you want. His fingers wrap around your neck, palm against your windpipe, and he just holds you there, feeling your pulse fluttering against his touch.

All you're able to utter before falling off the edge of your pleasure is, "fuck-"

Blinding white pleasure courses through your veins, your heart hammering in your chest, feeling every single thing Aemond is doing but ten times more sensitive. Being edged twice before certainly didn't help. Every thrust inside, brushing against your sweet spot, the way his thumb continues to press circles against your bud, has your orgasm extended in a long drawn-out shattered moan.

Aemond buries his head into your neck, his arms enveloped around you, letting your bud finally have a reprieve. Your thighs begin to shake as Aemond fucks you through it, overstimulation rocking through your entire body with the incessant bullying of his length against your sweet spot.

"It's alright, baby, I've got you" he whispers, his own tone strained. You can't help but sigh fondly at his words.

"Fuck-where-"

"Inside me…please"

Aemond feels you tighten impossibly around him one last time before he stills, hot ropes of his cum painting your walls and leaving an unmistakable warmth at the deepest parts of your core. Aemond says nothing, but moans helplessly against your neck and you feel his all-body shudder through your hold on his shoulders.

He fucks you shallowly, aching for the last moments of friction just as your orgasm subsides, replaced with a manageable dull thrum, practically able to fell your own heartbeat, and his with his presence inside you. The drag of his cock through your sensitive walls has breathless pants spilling from your mouth.

The silence stretches as Aemond stills, his cock softening within you.

You don't have time to consider what at all he's thinking, as he presses a chaste kiss to your jaw, significantly softer than anything you've both done since arriving back to the hotel room. It shocks you, the intimacy of it.

What had you expected him to do? Get up, pull on his clothes and leave?

Maybe.

You had no expectations with Aemond. So for him to do this, had your chest constrain almost painfully.

What did this mean?

Did he just want a quick fuck?

Had he done this with Floris?

What did it mean for your partnership?

You're almost disappointed in yourself that these are the first thoughts on your mind.

And yet despite the pleasure running hot through your veins even still, as Aemond props himself up to look down at you, his chest heaving with hurried breaths, there's something on his face, in his expression, that you just cannot read.

There's an uncertainty in not being able to read him.

And underneath that hum of pleasure, through your rapid heartbeat, there lies something that hurtles you deep away from it all.

Doubt.

Taglist 1 (Bold means I could not tag!)

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meimi-haneoka · 11 months ago

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Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card Special Chapter: Comments and Analysis

WELCOME BACK, CCS FAAAAAAAAAAAANSSS!!!!!

Oh my god 3 months went already by from that December 1st and chapter 80, didn't they?? Feels like yesterday 🙈But we're finally here, finally ready for the release of the definitive, last SPECIAL CHAPTER of Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card!!!! After this, no more CCS for at least a while!!

Why do you see me so euphoric?? WELL, THERE IS MORE THAN ONE VERY GOOD REASON 😂 But let's not jump the gun and let's introduce this post properly: this time around, I won't be posting pictures to "illustrate" the analysis/commentary, because this special chapter was treated differently from the other ones. It didn't get, in fact, a free release on CLAMP's Youtube channel, in any language, and wasn't even uploaded for digital purchase on Comic Days like all the rest of the chapters. The only way to obtain it was via the April issue of Nakayoshi, either with the physical or digital version. Since it is clear to me their intention to keep this gem of a special chapter away from the internet jungle, and since lately I used only the screenshots from Youtube to illustrate my analysis, this time around I won't be posting anything (aside from the color page, which was released by the official account themselves).

AND! I won't be mixing analysis and summary, because I have already conveniently prepared some screenshots with a detailed summary of the chapter for the people who were curious to know, but didn't get to see the chapter yet or did see it but couldn't read Japanese. I have already posted these screenshots on my Twitter account, and I'll put them here too under the cut (please don't repost them around or in other social media), so you can immediately get a broad view on the content of the chapter (I don't have to point out translation mistakes, haha 😅), and then, afterwards, I'll write my commentary. And there is SO MUCH to say!!

But before starting, we can't break the tradition right at the LAST ROUND of our chapter commentaries, right?? So off we go, with the GIF OF THE MONTH!!

Yes, I think this is the GIF that can represent this chapter the most. 😂

The Color Page

This special chapter is composed of 33 pages, and of course I can't avoid starting my commentary precisely from the color page!!

I admit it, I hoped for a color spread with the four main characters of Clear Card (hence, including Kaito and Akiho too), but since the other two appeared with their own color page just in chapter 79, we'll gladly take this single color page with SyaoSaku too!! ❤️ The JP text reads "We've been together till now, and we will always be! Featuring a long-awaited special chapter!!" Syaosaku look absolutely adorable....and so, so happy!! Looking at us, from a wreath made of cherry blossoms, of course dressed in their image colors pink and green, in a "pair look"...I think their shiny smiles conquered the hearts of the entire fandom (saw many comments about it) and it is certainly a perfect introduction to a chapter that is, indeed, completely made of this happy, leisurely, warm atmosphere. I feel like it tastes even better, after all the anxiety they made us go through, right? I'm pretty sure that was CLAMP's goal all along, giving us this little reward after all the hard situations they've put their characters through. This color page looks like Sakura and Syaoran are saying "goodbye" to us, holding their hands in a lover's hold, but seeing them so cute and happy definitely soothes the sad feeling 🥲 Until we meet again...hopefully!

Letters From Around The World

But it's when the chapter starts that we get our first surprise: the time skip is of one entire year!!! We left our little heroes at the end of the first year of Tomoeda Middle school, ready to go in spring break and then start the second year...here, Sakura says she's in her spring break of the next year, ready to become a 9th grader!!! I almost couldn't believe they actually went that far, I knew from CLAMP's podcast that there was a timeskip, but I expected just some months! Although....I have to say the characters don't look that different, Mokona said she made them a tiny bit older and she kept true to that, because it's barely visible! 🤭 But if you compare them with how they looked at the middle of the story, of course the difference is visible.

I was so happy to see that the chapter started right away with a letter from Akiho: a letter or a videocall was definitely among the type of content I wanted to see in this chapter, because of course I still was quite preoccupied about the difficult journey Akiho and Kaito embarked on, so I wanted to see how they were faring. The amount of letters Sakura accumulated over the span of this year tells me that they moved around quite a lot, and she had always something to share with her "long-distance sister" 🤭 Kero praising Akiho's skills and even feeling some sort of "reverence" for her insane talent to find all the crazy and rare books was so funny and nice!! 😂Sakura is adorable, feeling all proud about the talent of her "sister" 🤭 Loved that they actually mentioned the place where Akiho and Kaito are currently at!! (cause they didn't reveal where they'd go first, in chapter 80, and I guess we'll never know). I appreciated SO SO much that they let us see that Akiho didn't drop, but actually continued to practice her sewing skills like she was doing before everything went down the drain with the Alice in Clockland play: moreover, finding out later that this skill is also helping her greatly with the true ambition of her life made me incredibly satisfied. How cute of her to send outfits for Kero and Suppy, even from far away??

I was quite surprised to find out that Akiho sends all the rare books to Eriol, and then laughed my as* off at Kero saying he's selling them off (the way Kero phrases it in JP makes it look a QUITE shady activity 😂). This shows there's a continued collaboration between the "group" in England and YunaAki, and it's very nice. They're not only "taking" support from Eriol, Akiho also does return the favor, providing Eriol with the books he needs.

And then....got really emotional to know that Kaito wrote a letter to Sakura, back when they left one year ago 🥲 I DID feel like some kind of acknowledgement or apology from Kaito to Sakura was missing from chapter 80 (but honestly, with everything they had to explain, where they could fit that?) and so this little mention completely fixed that sense of "he made a mess and barely managed to apologize to Akiho before leaving". Kaito isn't an ass*ole so of course he would've done something like that, and a letter seems perfect for an introvert boy of few words like him. I imagine the letter wasn't really long either. The little moon on the sealing wax...❤️The fact that Sakura is storing that single letter together with Akiho's letters in a specific box makes me almost cry. She cares for those two so, so much! 😭 Sakura wishes to receive more letters from Kaito and I really hope he will open up to her along the way, because he could benefit ENORMOUSLY from her advices and perspective! Also THANK YOU CLAMP for giving us a little "still" of those two next to eachother from the moment when they were leaving Tomoeda, with the suitcases and all 🥲that last faraway shot of all four of them together in chapter 80 was so great, but I wanted to see them like this too!

The SyaoSaku Date

Aaaaaand then we get to the long awaited, craved, coveted SYAOSAKU DATE!!! 🤣 I can't count how many people I've seen wishing for this....to be honest I was going to be ok with any kind of sweet moment between the two, but gotta admit that a carefree afternoon watching a stage play and then taking refreshment at a café gives this sense of normal, complete fun that was missing a bit for them. They are dressed in a very fancy way (loved that Sakura isn't wearing her usual long one-pieces but something different, with puff shorts! A sign of her growing up?) and even though they're not exactly wearing a "pair look" (too corny, maybe?), they are well matching eachother's outfits. And of course we find out that Tomoyo made Sakura's cute outfit and even the decorations on Syaoran's collar! The fact she was the one asking Syaoran to wear them at the date is kinda funny, like some sort of guidance into looking like a couple, thanks to the matching decorations! Tomoyo really takes care of everything....yes....everything. 🥲 The mention of Sakura's wedding dress of course made me go "OH MY GOD" and made me realize that if Tomoyo is already mentioning that.......we aren't *that* far away from that day (I always imagined SyaoSaku marrying early, since they're soulmates and got together so young!! 😆). Truly an emotional, sweet moment that was reinforced by Tomoyo's tender expression in the flashback. Her resolution to devote herself to learn to design even normal everyday outfits, or date outfits, everything that could accompany her dear Sakura everyday, reminded me that Tomoyo found her very own way to be with Sakura, and she's perfectly content with that. Tomoyo's happiness is seeing Sakura happy, and she will do anything to achieve that. ✨

Syaoran and Kaito's Friendship

And then my blushy blushy Sakura changes topic and suddenly throws me on the floor in a fit of laughter, because seeing Syaoran's confused look while he was trying to make sense of the pictures Kaito sent him on his phone WAS HONESTLY PRICELESS. 😆 My god, how long have I wished to see them like this? Moving their timid steps into a friendship (since their girlfriends are like sisters and Sakura literally saved Kaito's derriere), being their awkward dorky selves...they surprisingly get along so well and Syaoran doesn't seem to hold resentment towards him, which is GREAT for me!! He's learning from Sakura to just let go of hard feelings, when you've found out the person who acted in an oppositive way was just in a very desperate situation and had actually no ill intentions. And that makes me incredibly happy. Kaito needs all the support he can get, to make the right decisions in his life, and I can totally see him finding a particular connection with Syaoran, due to how they're both moon boys, who would give their life for the person they love. I think precisely for this, precisely because Syaoran can understand to a degree Kaito's situation and behavior, he wouldn't feel judged and would feel more free to establish a connection with him. I was k*lled with laughter and endearment when I saw that Syaoran felt confused, but still tried to understand Kaito's peculiar way of communicating with him 😂 And guess what? I think he doesn't realize it, but he's totally starting to get it! 😂The way our wolfie boy snaps that picture IMMEDIATELY as the cat passes by, and how he only framed the ear, really shows how in the end he's speaking "the same language" as Kaito 😂 Seeing Sakura so excitedly think to herself that the two became such good friends made me scream "SAME SAKURA-CHAN, SAME!!!" 😂 All in all, seeing these two having such a relaxed, comfortable date talking about their friends and stuff that happened lately made me completely feel that one year that elapsed, and now they act totally like a couple that's been dating for quite some time. 😊 Ooooh thank you sensei, really. Thank you so much for this scene. 🙏

The Moon Is Really Beautiful, Right?

BUT! The real reason why CLAMP will always have my heart and my gratitude is hidden in the next scene. 😂

Oh my god, the screams I've belted out when I saw them. And when I've read THAT. But let's go in order, let's go in order and not jump the gun! We're in Germany, Akiho and Kaito now seem to be living in an apartment in a nice building! They're still talking in keigo, and still calling eachother "Akiho-san" and "Kaito-san". 😊

Kaito SMILES genuinely at the picture Syaoran sent him!! And answers, to an observant Akiho, that he's having fun!! 😭HIM! The one who couldn't understand what was fun in interacting with others!!! He looks honestly so radiant and happy, a sign that his mental recovery is going strong. And that he's slowly expanding his "trusted people" network. 🥲🙏Also, he looks younger than ever!!! 😂

It made me INCREDIBLY HAPPY to see that Akiho didn't drop the "hobby" she had started in chapter 26 (ages ago!!), remember this scene?

I remember how much I loved to know she had started learning how to do this, because together with my friends, at the time, we all thought this could easily become her aspiration in life......and guess what?? CLAMP confirmed she wants to take on a job revolving around books and book repairing!! This is all canon!! T___T oh my happy tears.... There's a sense of pride in seeing that this journey for Akiho isn't only revolving around finding the cure for Kaito's shortened lifespan (which hurt his body terribly) and restarting his "stopped time", or finding Momo and the Alice in Clockland book, but she's also got the mental resolution to do something for herself, for what she wants to do in life, something that is completely disconnected from Kaito. Again, I cannot reiterate enough how this girl doesn't have an unhealthy codependent relationship with Kaito, and she's completely capable of thinking about her own future, aspirations and wishes. She wants him with her, and she could never live happily without him, but the love of her life isn't the only thing that exists for her. It is incredibly satisfying to see her working hard for her own future, where she'll be able to contribute (especially financially) to their livelihood. I can see Kaito helping her and assisting her with that. The other day I was dreaming away with my friends about Kaito and Akiho managing a "book cafè" together somewhere, how impossibly sweet that would be?

Seeing this volitive, ambitious, strong-willed Akiho once again filled my heart immensely. And I wasn't the only one, apparently.....

Oh god, you have no idea of the SHRIEKS I belted out when I saw Kaito saying "the moon is really beautiful, right?" in full daylight. Like. It is absolutely unmistakable at this point what kind of love he feels for her, and while I always knew, I'm sure the character took his own sweet time and personal introspection to reach that conclusion. If you remember, I've always said it and reiterated it at the end of chapter 80: Kaito won't understand things overnight, it will take a long time. And one year, at that age, is enough of a long time to come to terms with one's feelings and understanding what exactly they mean. They lived all that time together as two "equals", no more butler/boss bullsh*t, so they had even more opportunities to see eachother's true colors. And Kaito couldn't help but fall even more in love with Akiho, to the point that seeing her working so excitedly for her future made him gently overflow with that feeling....and said that sweet quote of Natsume Soseki that we all know, by now, what it means. I think the mere fact that what made his heart explode was seeing her so independent and strong, is a good sign that Kaito's love for her is the healthy and supportive kind, too. He doesn't love her and feels attracted to her soul because she's a weaker, younger, malleable being that he can dominate (as a toxic relationship would portray), but at the contrary, because she's free and strong and wonderful on her own. The more he sees her shining, the more that feeling grows. Throughout this scene, he looks at her and talks to her in such an intensely sweet way, you can totally see he's smitten with her.

The most popular reply to someone who confesses with "the moon is beautiful" is the equivalent of "I could die for you/I can die happy now", in Japanese. And Kaito had been unconsciously replying that way, with his actions, the whole damn time during the serialization of Clear Card. But since he took it way too literally, things were really heading to tragedy. Nobody wanted him to die for real, and yet, subconsciously, that was the only way he had found to give outlet to an enormous amount of feels that he couldn't express (because it wasn't appropriate, and nobody would ever love him, and he only caused her pain, and he had to let go of Akiho anyway at the end of it).

So considering all of THAT, this "I love you very much" he said now (he added とても, "very", like Akiho did ❤️) in this way, makes me think even more "yes, you finally understood what was the best way to convey it!" and therefore, it represents another character development for our moon boy. 🥲

There's debate over whether he had already understood what Akiho had meant, in chapter 48. I stand firmly by my convinction that, even if he was informed of the Japanese folklore tale around it, he quickly dismissed it as "no, she's meaning it literally for the moon", since he couldn't really believe that anyone would ever take interest in him, and was sure he would've always been alone. Otherwise, if he really understood and believed that Akiho was in love with him, I don't think he could've ever said that "I thought you didn't need me to be happy". It doesn't make sense. But everything that happened at the fake moon, and all her angry tears, and all her resolution to find a way to cure him, made him finally see that she really meant it in that way. ❤️So his own acceptance and introspection could finally start, and....it brought to this. ❤️ If you want to know more about the popular phrase "the moon is beautiful, right?", I invite you to check my first Clear Card Trivia post, focused on the literary and musical references portrayed throughout this story!

And LOL, I couldn't help but noticing several things in how this scene played out: first, he immediately "runs away" blabbering about the breakfast being ready, a very similar way to how he "ran away" in chapter 52 when Akiho could see right through him and was trying to express her support and feelings to him. This is definitely an indication (taking into consideration also how he acted when he was little) that the reason why Kaito walked away back then, slamming the door, had a sprinkle of embarrassment embedded in it, too. Yeah. I mean, look at the face he's making here, just before he notices, puzzled, that his hand is shaking:

He's smiling so tenderly, among the pain he's feeling because of his poor health. He even laughs! He's happy he heard that! But he just couldn't stay hearing any longer, back then. Now, in this scene of the special chapter, he literally throws "the bomb" and runs away without hearing her answer or reaction 😂😂😂this is definitely embarrassment, and I'd like to think there's even a hint of teasing streak that I've always seen between the lines in his personality. It came out particularly with Syaoran and Momo, but Akiho isn't excluded from this dynamic! 😂

And excuse me, but Akiho's reaction literally made me roll on the floor laughing!! 😂The poor girl is probably so used to live abroad, and Japanese folklore isn't probably coming up immediately in her mind anymore, despite it's a phrase SHE used HERSELF back then! 😂Or maybe it's because she didn't really expect it from him, and so she took a moment to connect the dots. Either way, it was extremely funny! And I can't absolutely avoid pointing out how our girl isn't blushing like mad anymore, but just slightly.... I mean. It must have been quite clear to her too, by now, that her feelings were in some kind "reciprocated", be it for what Sakura said back at the fake moon, his decision to go back to her, and his decision to reveal his true name, hence giving her his most vulnerable part of himself... This isn't a shock for her, and she probably waited patiently, patiently, for him to finally say something like this. So maybe, more than embarrassed, she's surprised that the day finally came! 🥲 Goodness. This really puts all my worries to rest, Akiho will truly be happy. And it makes total sense that CLAMP made him say this now, and not at the end of chapter 80. As I said, more time was needed. This entire scene leaves me with a sweet, soft, comfortable feeling, and it's totally how I've always imagined their relationship to be. Also....no more of that "he loves her as a daughter/sister" crap, not canon-wise at least. 😊

One last thing I have to point out about this scene, which curiously reconnects everything together, is that recently CLAMP have announced the themes to which their upcoming exhibition will revolve around: among them, there's LOVE (of course!), and among the decorations surrounding the featured character on the key visual (Sakura, for now, but there's at least another one coming!) there are a couple of birds too. Birds are, in this sense, a symbol of love in CLAMP's language. I couldn't really help but noticing all the birds flying outside the window next to Akiho, the moment Kaito says that "the moon is really beautiful, right?". Basically, CLAMP were trying to scream it all over the place, however they could. 😂

"Momo-san?!"

It was so nice to see Yukito and Kero-chan gossiping about Touya right in his face, with the complete intention to tease him 😂in that sense, Yukito really seems like a sweet and harmless character, but don't be fooled! His teasing power is over 9000!! 😂Touya's killing glare made me crack up! He's so done for, now that both Kero and Yukito can tease him in the open! 😂😂😂

But please, please, let me scream about MOMO!!! Oh my god I would've never accepted a special chapter that didn't feature her!! Aaaaahhh I'm so glad to see that she's fine 🥲 The conversation between her and Sakura made clear to me that she isn't that free to move how I imagined her to be. Certainly, she decides where to go and who the book stays with (and when to leave), but the impartiality imposed on her role doesn't allow her to act freely like she wants, unless she pays a price. And she decided to pay a price, not to see Akiho and Kaito, but to go and thank Sakura herself first. Because, as her "those kids" suggests, she of course still feels some kind of maternal instinct towards them, and as any mother would do, she wants to thank Sakura from the bottom of her heart for having helped and saved those two. Even her body language (the position of her hands) portrays that. And excuse me, but I A B S O L U T E L Y loved how CLAMP clarified once and for all, addressing directly the complaints of their own fandom, that Sakura wasn't forcingly dragged into a matter that wasn't related to her. Everything she did, she decided to do it because she felt it touched her personally. From the moment she became Akiho's friend and came to care for her, everything that happened and everything that she was involved with was related to her too. This wasn't "somebody else's business" anymore. Because Akiho is one of her most beloved friends, no matter how "fast" that happened. Some relationships bloom almost immediately, because the connection is just that strong. And so, this turned into just another expression of "your happiness is my happiness", with Sakura acting according to what her heart suggested. As Kaito is Akiho's most beloved person, Sakura couldn't help but care for him too, because doing so would've made her friend happy, in a wonderful "circulation of love".

Special mention for the scene with pregnant Lilie, oh my god I didn't really expect this either. How long ago I wrote that Tumblr post about cosmos flowers and the origin of Akiho's name? A couple of weeks ago? It's like CLAMP answered my curiosity, with this scene. I still keep my interpretation in my heart, but I also love the logic "it is a flower that keeps the same name in many countries". Of course. "Wherever you'll go, you'll always be your unique self". (And now I want to cry, mama's heart is so big😭) The way Lilie keeps her hands over her womb made me tear up. The ring isn't there anymore, a sign that she probably already gave it to Momo (understandably, since once Akiho would be born, she wouldn't really have much time left). The baby bump isn't that noticeable, probably because she's at the beginning of her pregnancy. Who knows if she kept seeing little Kaito while she was pregnant. 🥲Who knows if in the scene where she's telling him about how wonderful it is to have something you love, especially a person, she was already pregnant with Akiho. 🥲

Momo and Sakura's final words made me understand that Momo cannot go back to Akiho and Kaito till the circumstances and the moment is right. Whether it depends on Akiho's wish, or the right cosmic arrangement, it's surely not in the short term. Especially considering the limited scope of Momo's agency. It cannot come from Momo (unless she pays a huge price), it needs to come from them, strongly enough. I also want to think that, again as an acquired mother figure, Momo wants those two to find their own way, identity and figure out their relationship on their own, without her interference. I'm sure she's keeping an eye on them from faraway, though. 🥲Even though this still feels bittersweet because I wanted to see them reuniting in canon so badly, it gave me lots of hope for the future. Momo is just waiting for the right moment, and she'll be ready to embrace them when the time is right. Maybe, who knows, we'll see that reunion in another series or in a special publication in the future?

The End

And then....the final scene 🥲NOW it is finally clear what Ohkawa meant in that one Twitter Space, when she mentioned that there was a reason why they never featured Sakura's birthday!!! THEY NEEDED TO KEEP THE EXCLUSIVITY FOR THIS!! 😂 I'm so glad they did, really...it's so sweet to see her reaching 14 years old (the "standard age" of many shoujo heroines! 😂) and seeing Syaoran giving her a present, with that strikingly sweet smile full of love...but most importantly....the breathtaking final double spread 🥲🥲🥲🥲 The way she pulls his hand close to her chest, to her heart, while saying that Syaoran will be forever and ever her most important and special person.....really, this chapter is meant to k*ll us all with feels!🥲and I love how CLAMP keep finding ways to portray their physical displays of affection without resorting to the classic, most wanted (but also probably considered not appropriate yet) "kiss". The very final page is a direct parallel of a page from chapter one, where Sakura was going to school alone and looked back down the street to admire the cherry blossoms in full bloom.

Now, she's not alone anymore, but actually hugging the love of her life on her special day! Really, what a wonderful and fulfilling way to give the final touch to this amazing story! 🥲 Her very last line also contributed to this. Sakura leaves us again, 24 years after the first ending, with words of positivity for the future, and love for her important people. This wraps everything up nicely, but it still keeps things quite "open-ended", hopefully in the eventuality to return to this wonderful series in the future. Sakura is growing up, as CLAMP wished, and it might be possible to see her dealing with more "grown-up" situations, magic and non-magic wise. But one thing is for sure, her relationship with her loved ones will always take top priority. ❤️

Well well well, we came to the end of this looooooong commentary for this special chapter too. I can't help but thank once again all of you who followed my posts all these years, and commented with your POVs on the story.

As I've said multiple times, Cardcaptor Sakura gave me so much ever since I was a kid, and this sequel was no exception. This special chapter, in particular, overflowed with things I wanted to see, and I'm sure I'm not the only one thinking so. I once again want to congratulate CLAMP for wrapping everything up nicely, and thank them from the bottom of my heart for these almost 8 years of emotional journey. 🙏

See you around with my other tumblr posts, and let's look forward to the release of volume 16 on April 1st, and hopefully, news about the anime sequel of Clear Card!!

#cardcaptor sakura #card captor sakura #clear card arc #ccsakura #ccs spoilers #sakura kinomoto #syaoran li #akiho shinomoto #yuna d. kaito #syaosaku #yunaaki #special chapter #translation differences #how come this post is so freaking long even without translation differences?#well dammit I had A LOT TO SAY #and even some itches to scratch #aaaah the satisfaction #😊so happy

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mushies-stories · 2 months ago

Text

Bringing you back

Akatsuki x F!reader

This chapter: Hidan- The begining.

summary: You were on a mission that didn't tell you enough information before it was to late. met with Hidan, an Akatsuki member much to powerful or you to fight against. you don't have much to fear, so long as you let him have you and bring you back to the base.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! MDNI, unprotected sex, swearing. Hidan? let me know if i forgot any!

word count: 2222

You knew now you never should have taken the job. What was asked was far beyond what anormal shinobi could. Now here you are, trapped with one of the world's worst criminals. Your weapons are used or taken and your Jutsu useless.

“Good try, but you definitely aren't winning against me.” The man known as Hidan taunts with a wicked smile. “With a weak body like this?” he runs his eyes over your body, keeping you easily in place with your hands secured above your head with one of his own.

You scowl up at him. “Trust me, if I had more information I wouldn't have taken the job.”

He laughs and swings his scythe, aiming above your head and into the tree, securing it in place there. “That so? Didn’t wanna come out and play with me then? Well since you're here, you might as well anyway, right?” You looked up at him, confusion written across your face. Hidan’s free hand comes to cup your cheek. “Can't let a pretty little thing like you go, can i?”

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean?

Hidan leans down so his face was level with your own. “Well, unless you want to die I see the only way to let you live is to get some in return for sparing your life, right? You think that's fair don't you?” he says.

His eyes bore into your own, they almost seemed to put you in a trance. “Wait, no way i'm no-” Hidan leaned down and into the crook of your neck, he bit into the soft flesh causing you to stutter. “Hidan, that hur-ah.” He gives you another sharp nip before he begins sucking at the same spot. You struggle against his hold on you but he just won't let go. “Hidan, please.” you beg softly. You don't want to admit it but he was making you feel good and you couldn't let that happen.

Fingers trail from your cheek to neck and down to your breast. One large hand feels you up through the fabric of your shirt. Your hips jerk forward a little and your back arched a bit, pushing your chest even more into his hand. “Eager little thing aren't you?” He chuckles against your neck. “Where did all that fight go, get too turned on from just a little bite?” you wanted to resort back, words were on the tip of your tongue, but Hidan suddenly yanking your shirt up and shoving his face into your cleavage cut you off before you could even start. He pulls back enough to pull your bra down and take one of your nipples into his mouth. He didn't torture you for too long, pulling away after just a moment. “I'm going to let your arms go, and you aren't going to run.” he tells you. You nod and he slowly releases your arms and you drop them to your sides with a side of relief.

“So then you'll have your way and that's it?” you ask, raising a brow up at him.

He grins devilishly. “Oh you’ll have your way as well.” His hands grab your waist and bring you a step closer to him. He pushes at the sides of your pants and starts to push them down. “I'll make your pretty pussy feel good, don't worry. I’ll make sure to fill you up just right.” he says, tone laced in lust and deviancy. You shudder a little at his words but make no attempt to stop him when he really starts to slide your pants past your ass and to the forest floor. Nudging your thighs apart a little with his hand then he feels how wet your panties have already gotten with his fingers. “Dirty girl, making a mess of your panties.” he snickers before hooking a finger in them and pulling them down too. You shiver, feeling how exposed you were. You were just lucky you were deep in the woods and the possibility of someone seeing you was slim. You watch as he unzips his cloak and adjusts his pants so his cock could spring out.

It was hard to keep your eyes from looking. You weren’t shocked by how big he was but that didn't make you feel any less intimidated. “That's not… that's not gonna just fit you know.” You try and reason with him.

He chuckles and hooks his hands under your thighs before lifting you, spreading your legs apart so there on either side of his hips. You yelp and throw your arms around his neck, clinging to him. The fat tip of his cock nuzzles between your folds. “Oh it’ll fit, your sweet little pussy is dripping for my cock.” he states, and proves it by gliding his cock through your slick folds, coating his cock.

You gasp at the feeling, the tip catching a little at your entrance in teasing you. “Just… be careful please.” you pout a little at him.

He gives you his signature devilish grin as he pushes at your little hole, threatening to push in at any second. “Don't worry, I'll have you coming on my cock in no time.” he promises. Then slowly he pushed the tip in. His hands gripped the fat of your thighs as he slid in a little at a time. You both had to breathe slowly as he sank in. “pussies so fuckin tight.” he grunts. You couldn't respond with anything more than little whimpers and breathy moans.

You felt every inch and vein on his cock as he bottomed out in you with a low grunt. “Big… so much, filling me up.” you babbled. Getting your pusy stretched open with his cock has clearly already made you cock drunk.

He huffed a laugh and gave you a second to adjust to him. “That so? Ready to really take me, want to feel really good?” he asks, looking into your glazed eyes.

You nod a little. “M’ready, please move.” you tell him.

His cock twitched inside of you. Your face, your sweet voice were just what he needed, he thought. Slowly, painfully slowly for Hida he began to pull back and and sink back into you, repeating the slow action until he could feel your pussy start to relax a little more. “There you go, let me make you feel good. Let me fuck you just right.” he says into your ear before softly biting your lobe.

Your body jerked against his as he continued his assault and traveled to your neck, biting and sucking anywhere he could reach as he leisurely pumped his cock into you. It felt good, but it quickly wasn't enough. “Hidan…” your voice is quiet, just above a whisper.

“Mm?” he hums from the crook of your neck.

You let out a soft huff and find the courage to tell him what you needed. “M-More, need you to move more.” you finally rush out.

He grins before running his teeth over a tender part of your neck. “That's it? What a sweet girl, asking so well for me.” He praised you. He took in the lewd sounds you made when he did as you said and started to fuck into you with more purpose. Snapping his hips in the right place when he noticed more of a reaction from you. “How's that baby girl, pussy feeling better?” he asks.

You nod and let your head lul back a little. “Better, thank you.” you dont even register you were thanking him for fucking you. Getting lost in the bliss his cock was making you feel.

Hidan silently chuckles to himself at your words. You were perfect, taking his cock so well and begging for it? He couldn't help but pound into you, making sure your pussy will remember his cock no matter what. You took everything he gave you, gushing around his length and holding onto him for dear life. Together the sounds you two made filled the forest around you.

“Tell me how you feel, moaning so much for me I want you to tell me how I'm making you feel.” Hidan tells you. You can’t get yourself to speak, too embarrassed about the way his cock was making your pussy feel. “C’mon, you wont get to come if you can't tell me.” He threatens with an evil grin.

That does the trick however, you could feel something building in your core and his cock was making you feel so good. You manage to find all the words you could remember in your cloudy mind. “S’good, big. Fucking me s-so good Hidan. Want more, it feels so good!” you ramble.

Hidan groans and thrusts a little harder, his fingers grip tightly at your plush skin. “There we go, tell me what you want. What do you want me to do?” he asks.

You whine as he makes your pussy flutter around his cock. You can feel your orgasm building. “Want you to fuck me, need more. Need to cum, please I wanna cum.” you beg, your breathing labored and your eyes begin to flutter.

With no problem at all he fasted his pace, bouncing you perfectly on his hard length. “Fuck, need my cock to make your pussy gush? Gonna take my cum too, huh, gonna be a good girl and take all of it?” Hidan didn't think you would be this good, so tight and begging so perfectly for his cock.

You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing yourself closer so your face is buried in the crook of his neck. “Need all of it, want you to fill me up. Need to be filled with Hidan cum” you beg, you can't seem to stop. No one has ever made you feel this good before. “Want all of it Hidan.”

Your voice was like music to Hidan’s ears. “That's it, what a good girl, you listen so well when you got a big cock stuffed in your little pussy dont you.” Hidan kept that firm grip on your thighs, making sure your pussy was stretched perfectly on his cock as he slammed his hips up into you. Hidan would prefer to see how wrecked you looked while he fucked you, but he figured letting you cling to him was okay for now. He already decided you were coming back with him, how couldn't he when you begged for him so perfectly? No for now he would let you cling to him and whine about how good he was fucking you.

“M’so close, Hi-Hidan please i wanna…” A shaky moan leaves you before you can finish your sentence. Instead of trying again you resort to begging in the simplest way and plead over and over. You dont think you’ve ever said the word please so many times in your life before.

Hidan chuckles at the sound of you. Your body was beginning to shake in his arms as he moved your body in time with his hips. “Need to cum? Your pussy is starting to really squeeze me, trying to drain my cock with you?” he teases. He wasn’t lying however, the grip you had on him had his balls aching and cock twitching and leaking precum.

You shake your head. “Y-yes, please!” you managed to choke out. You wrap your legs tightly around his back, locking him in place and giving him little room to really pull out.

“That's it. Fucking perfect pussy, cum for me sweet thing, let go on my cock.” He encourages you, keeping his pace and roughness how you seemed to like it best. You could feel it creeping up, building more and more until you were a whining babbling mess in his arms. You pussy clamped down on his cock as you held tightly onto him. “Fuuck, there you go, cumming so fucking good for me. Pussy begging for me to fill it up.” Hidan grunts while he fucks you through your orgasm. Once he feels your pussy start to flutter and the grip on his cock lessen a bit he finally lets go.

His cock twitched as his cum paints your insides and gives your body a tingling after shock. “Hidan, fuck that fe-els so good.” you whine, squeezing your legs a little to force him as deep as he can go. He groans and squeezes your thighs a bit more roughly as he comes down from his own high. “Gunna make sure your pretty pussy is satisfied everyday.” Hidan says before beginning to pull out.

“W-wait!” you yelp, causing him to stop in place.

“Huh? Can't get enough can you?” Hidan starts to say cockily.

You shake your head. “No, what do you mean everyday?”

You shudder and gasp when he pushes his cock all the way back in. “Oh babygirl, you're mine now, but I promise you'll be well taken care of.” he grins at you. “c’mon, why not?” It was hard to think properly, your body was still reacting to him and all you wanted to do right now was lay down and fall asleep. “We can talk about it later, let's just get you back and cleaned up first.”

You were passed out on Hidan's back before you even made it out of the forest. You had time to worry later, right?

!thanks for reading!

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto smut #naruto x reader #kakuzu #hidan #hidan x reader #hidan imagines #akatsuki imagines #akatsuki x reader #naruto kakuzu #hidan x reader smut

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m-ayo-o · 2 years ago

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she always smiled and spouted pretty ideals

Megumi Fushiguro x female reader you meet Megumi (25+ y/o) who you'll soon be working with. he was allowed to grow up; getting taller and more tired, inheriting some of his father's more charming traits the accumulation of those little despairs is what makes a person an adult 18+ content, includes sexual tension / injury / caring / soft dom / oral / sex / spanking / choking / hair pulling / biting / bondage mention smut starts: part 6/7 // 15k

[needs updating very badly. is my first fic sorry]

7 bonus chapters [here] // smut starts: part 4 // 9.3k

1: crush

Your persuasive and friendly manager has succeeded in dragging you out of your warm, cosy room to join him and your new colleagues for a drink this evening. You head to the bar he mentioned to meet your work mates for the first time.

Recognising Gojo straight away, you head for his tall figure as he turns to greet you, waving enthusiastically. He buys you a drink and turns to the others who have been chatting next to you two. “Everybody! This is our new grade two sorcerer who will be joining us on Monday!”

You stand next to your manager, looking so small in comparison, wave a “hello” to your colleagues and introduce yourself to the group, feeling a little shy and overwhelmed.

The first to respond is a fairly tall, broad shouldered man with ruffled pink hair. “I’m Yuji Itadori! It’s so nice to meet you!” He forgoes formality, outstretching his arms to embrace you in a warm hug.

Yuji barely hugs you for a couple of seconds until a young woman with short red hair pulls him off you and shouts, “Don’t mind this lightweight! I’m Nobara Kugisaki. It’s a pleasure to meet another talented female sorcerer.”

She seems quite intimidating and shakes your hand firmly with a serious look in her eyes. Her expression shifts, smiling as she starts quizzing you with personal questions.

While you and Nobara continue chatting, Gojo grabs a dark haired man by the arm and physically drags him over. “This is Megumi Fushiguro!” Gojo shoves him forward, interrupting your conversation, “He’s rude and will not introduce himself. So here he is!” He proclaims with a big grin.

You stop mid sentence and look up at the tall man who has been pushed right in front of you, nearly touching. He’s looking down at you from around 6”2 you would presume, and you’re looking up, straining your neck from how close he is.

As your gaze travels up his chest, neck and finally to his stoic face, you make eye contact, feeling timid under his intense gaze. You squirm as he looks down at you, your heart fluttering as your cheeks flush a pretty pink.

Before you space out completely, Gojo releases his grip on the younger man and he steps back slightly.

“I’m Megumi. Sorry about him.” His voice is low, cutting through the obtrusive bar noise.

This brings you back down to Earth as you edge away, regaining your personal space. “It’s ok. Nice to meet you. I'm y/n” you manage to look up at him with a little smile.

Megumi's features are delicate, almost pretty, contrasting with his stern expression, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at Gojo. Pure black hair hangs over his pale skin, spikes falling past his dark, mysterious eyes. He looks muscular under his well-fitting black shirt and trousers and you can't help but stare.

In an attempt to break your gaze and try to be friendly, you ask, “Is he always like this?” gesturing to Gojo. Megumi just rolls his eyes and sighs, “Yes, you’ll have to get used to him I’m afraid.”

The others chime in with possibly made up stories about Gojo as he attempts to defend himself and plead with you that he’s not a bad guy. Megumi doesn’t seem so angry anymore and joins in with ridiculing your new manager.

“He’s not that bad, is he?” You try to help Gojo out, but Megumi looks back at you with a smirk, “Oh, he’s the worst.” You get butterflies in your stomach as he looks at you with his deep blue eyes.

2: drinks

You move from the bar into a booth and get cosy with your new colleagues. Yuji and Nobara jump in one side as they're slurping their cocktail together. Gojo slides in on the other side and Megumi gestures for you to sit down before him.

You squeeze in next to Gojo and Megumi sits right next to you on the end, his shoulder brushing against yours.

You don't mind being so close to Gojo as you know him fairly well now; he makes you feel comfortable, even if he is incredibly flirty.

He wraps a strong arm around you and brings you into a close side hug, welcoming you into his team again and expressing his excitement. You hug him back, smiling contently. After some chit chat and curious questions, Gojo declares that you all must play a drinking game.

During the evening you ask to pause the game so you can use the bathroom. You turn to Megumi, wanting to exit the booth, the dark haired man returning a funny expression.

“Please can I get past?” You ask nicely. “Sure,” Megumi returns a smirk, sitting up and gesturing to the small gap between his spread legs and the booth table.

You stand up, pausing for a second, ensuring that he's really not going to stand up. Fine, have it your way.

He looks up at you expectantly. As you attempt to squeeze past Megumi's long legs your ass feels dangerously close to his body. You're squishing your plush thighs up to the table as much as possible and you almost trip over his feet below. You feel his eyes all over you in your tight skirt.

From Megumi's point of view this is a very simple way of getting what he wants. And, right now, Megumi would quite like to see your pretty face blushing again.

His confidence has grown a little over the years after numerous sexual experiences, drinking, and flirting. He worries that he might be taking after his dad. He knows this method isn’t charming or smart, but he just needs to get closer to you.

Megumi is shamelessly checking you out as you squeeze between him and the table, his imagination taking him to rather sinful places.

His self restraint is put to the test as your ass inches past him. He has to grip onto his thighs to resist the urge to touch you, taking his lip between his teeth so he doesn't run his mouth.

You're surprised your fat ass juicy, round ass got through that little gap. You managed, albeit a few degrees hotter, presuming the pink glow has returned to your cheeks as you make a pouty annoyed face at Megumi.

This is confirmed in the bathroom mirror as you wash your hands, sighing and running your fingers through your hair.

It’s not his fault he’s winding you up so much. You can't blame the man for looking the way he does.

You just wish your reactions were a little less obvious. You're a useless liar with a terrible poker face. You can't hide anything.

You head back out to your colleagues and Megumi has moved in closer to Gojo. You take this opportunity to sit down on the end of the booth on Megumi’s right.

“Oh, well that’s no fun,” he leans in, murmuring with a mocking disappointed tone. Goosebumps prickle down your neck, his calm voice trickling into your ear.

Now you realise he’s not just drinking cola. The distinct sweet smell of rum lingers on his hot breath. His lips are so close to your skin for a brief instant until he pulls away.

3: home

Your evening out is coming to a close as everybody’s finishing their drinks and figuring out their way home. This is when it comes to light that you and Megumi actually live in the same apartment block. It’s kind of embarrassing that you hadn’t met him yet, showing exactly how social you are. He brushes it off, joking that you don’t get up early enough to see him anyway, and books a ride home for you both.

The others head off, Yuji and Nobara sharing a ride and Gojo stumbling to the nearest train station.

You and Megumi only have to wait a few minutes for your driver. You jump in and open the window, enjoying the peaceful journey. No commuters, no busy train. You relax and sigh happily with the cool air swirling through the car.

Until you notice Megumi shivering, trying to wrap up warmer in his jacket. Damn, now you feel so inconsiderate.

You quickly close the window and reach over to Megumi, offering him your hand. He looks at you skeptically, but reaches out his hand in return. His eyes widen as he comes into contact with your small hand. The heat coming from you is incredible. “How…” he trails off.

He just takes his other icy hand from his pocket and clasps yours tightly.

You turn to him and place your other hand over his… as well as you can anyway. His hands are much larger and you’re having trouble covering his cold, pale skin. He seems to enjoy this contact as he sighs in content while looking at your small hands, “Thank you.” You just give him a sweet smile then look away, apologising for making it so cold.

Megumi looks into his lap, “About earlier…” he starts, “I’m sorry for making you climb over me in the booth like that. It was such a cheap move.”

He knows it was a little disrespectful, staring at you like that and forcing you to squeeze past him. He slightly regretted his method, but he couldn't resist trying to get closer to you in that tight skirt.

You just laugh it off as if you weren’t really phased. “And I didn’t realise you were drinking spirits all evening… I would’ve been on the floor…” you trail off with giggles.

He laughs with you now, admitting that he is a little drunk and he doesn’t usually drink like that. “I was kind of nervous about meeting a new colleague, a new Jujutsu sorcerer.”

You nod in understanding. “We’re quite rare so our circle is tight. When there’s a newbie I can’t help but feel apprehensive. And the way Gojo described you was…” he trails off, looking up at your face from your interlocked hands.

“He just said that you’re a really nice person,” telling a white lie, as Gojo had actually gone into far more detail. “Well, I hope I live up to his description!” You reply, wondering what your manager told him.

You arrive home and Megumi punches in the code, opening the door for you. You step in and climb the stairs, explaining that you live on the third floor at number nine if he needs anything. He lives on the second floor at number seven and he reciprocates your offer.

Before Megumi enters his apartment he awkwardly asks if he can warm up his hands a little more, “If you wouldn’t mind, your hands are just so warm and I–” he’s interrupted as you go the extra mile and wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. You’re not sure if Megumi is a hugger, but he's being so sweet and shy, asking to hold your hands.

Perhaps he’s not used to this as he seems a bit uncomfortable. You start to pull away a little, feeling silly, but you feel his hands slowly making their way up to your slim waist, snaking around your back and pulling you closer.

Your jacket is in your bag and your white vest is low cut at the back. Megumi finds your soft, warm skin with his freezing hands. He strokes your back gently with his long fingers and lets out a sigh.

You feel relieved, his touch cooling you down. But you can't help your head from spinning now Megumi has his hands all over you.

Your head rests gently on his chest as you tiptoe to reach your arms around his shoulders. Megumi can feel heat spreading all over him. He can’t get enough.

He pulls you closer, lets out another big sigh and pushes his head down towards your neck to feel your warm skin on his face. You ask if he’s ok and he replies, mumbling into your neck, “Mm hmm, feels so nice. How can you be so warm…” he pulls away a few inches, looking you up and down, “...wearing this?”

You notice a light pink blush on his high cheekbones, his dark eyes travelling down past your tight top, your waist and skirt.

You shrug, “I just run hot, I guess.” You give him a smile and start to pull away, finally letting go of his cold hands.

You say goodnight to your new colleague, letting him enter his cosy apartment as you head up to yours. You feel his eyes on you as you climb the stairs, waiting until you’re out of view to close the door.

4: test

On Monday Gojo explains that he wants to test your abilities, so you agree to meet him at the training grounds. You find your way, surprised to see Megumi waiting alongside your manager.

“Your opponent for today…” he gestures to Megumi, “don’t hold back, ok?” He grins and steps away.

You sigh, already knowing this isn’t going to end well. Regardless, you try your best and go all out, attempting to channel your unskilled, unrefined power towards the dark haired man who, to be honest, you quite like.

As predicted, Megumi easily counters, using a simple wooden training sword, summoning a massive bird to attack and defend.

The test is very short lived as you realise you’ve expended a lot of power in one go, feeling light headed and dizzy as Megumi traps you, his sword around your neck.

As your head spins your legs begin to tremble. “Uh, Gojo?” Megumi sounds concerned but your manager has disappeared. “That asshole,” he mutters.

He scoops you off your feet just before your legs buckle from beneath you, your vision fading. He takes you inside, gently placing you on a sofa as you manage to whimper, “I'm so sorry… not used to-” Megumi silences you, shaking his head, “Don’t worry. Rest.”

As your disoriented, confused brain regains consciousness you see Megumi still sitting next to you, reading. He lowers his book, his dark blue eyes shifting in your direction. “Good afternoon,” he says softly.

“What time is it?” You ask with a sleepy, croaky voice. “Twelve thirty.” You groan, feeling embarrassed that you passed out in front of your colleague on your first day of work. You groan again, exerting yourself in an attempt to sit up.

“Please lay down.” Megumi pushes you slowly back onto the sofa. “Ieiri, the resident doctor, visited and is concerned that you've depleted your cursed energy.”

He stops and looks at you with a worried expression. “You really went for it, didn't you?” You look up at Megumi with bleary eyes and nod, “Gojo told me not to hold back so he could assess my ability, but…” you trail off and look down, “I can't believe I ended up like this, from one fight…” you stare into space in disbelief.

Megumi raises an eyebrow and sits back in his chair, "Did you really think you could fight me in the same way you take down curses?" He asks with a slight cocky tone. "Depending on your opponent you need to alter your combat style." He explains. "The same technique won't work in each battle."

You have a puzzled look on your face as building your energy, channelling it and firing at any opponent has worked so far. And to be honest, it's all you've known as you've had little guidance with your abilities.

He continues, looking down at you lying on the sofa, "Your close range combat needs a lot of work. You couldn't even defend yourself against me, let alone strike back. And as for your cursed technique… it's hard to call it a technique when you're just firing off pure cursed energy and hoping for the best."

As you stare up at Megumi who is currently picking apart your failures as a sorcerer one by one, you can feel heat start to surge around your body and to the surface of your skin. You feel a red blush forming on your cheeks. Megumi catches himself before he continues lecturing you, “Uh, but your raw power is impressive.”

He realises he was too hard on you. He rubs the back of his neck and looks down at his knees. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to-"

"It-it's ok. Somebody needs to tell me," you interrupt.

"Ok but I don't want you to take it-"

"Megumi."

"-personally."

Your voice silences him again. In the brief pause you feel a pang of hunger, then a terrible rumble.

Was it your stomach? You think so.

He looks down at your belly, where you're sitting below him, making you feel suddenly self conscious.

He offers you his hand, coaxing you to reach out to him.

He watches you struggle to get up, a smirk on his face and a mean glint in his deep blues.

"You need a little help?"

You're in the middle of shaking your head when you feel his arm slip under your legs, his other round your shoulder.

"Come on. I'll carry you to lunch."

You look up at him in shock for a moment, not knowing what to do.

"I can walk." Your expression turns incredulous.

He holds you tight, ignoring your attitude and how you thump his chest to put you down.

"You couldn't even get up, just chill out."

But you continue, claiming that people will see you and that you're going to die of embarrassment.

"Tch- just be glad my Shikigami aren't carrying you." He quips, striding along to the lunch room.

You sigh with defeat, bowing your head into his chest to at least hide your face.

"See, knew you'd prefer it with me."

You enter the lunch room while holding onto Megumi's arm, trying not to grip too tightly or fall over. You're concentrating so hard on staying upright that you don't notice your colleagues lifting their heads as you enter.

Megumi glares, silencing them before they get a chance to open their mouths.

Apart from Gojo, who ignores Megumi's glaring and shouts your name, “Glad you could join us! Come and eat!” So Megumi guides you to sit with your manager and another man you don't recognise.

“This is Nanami Kento! Businessman turned Jujutsu Sorcerer!” At this Gojo receives a huff from Nanami, “I told you to stop introducing me like that.”

You say hello and Megumi gets up to grab some food as you slowly start standing to join him.

You're halfway through getting up when you feel a cool hand on your bare shoulder. “Uh, don't worry. I'll get you something,” Megumi almost mumbles, while gently pushing you back down onto your chair.

As Megumi walks across to the cafeteria Gojo blurts out, “Why won't Megumi wait on me like that??” He asks in a whine.

Nanami raises an eyebrow at Gojo, looks at him from the side and mutters, “Probably because you're not a young female sorcerer who he's just beat up.”

You enjoy lunch and have a restful afternoon, your first day complete.

5: comfort

It’s finally Friday. As you’re sitting on the train, staring out of the window into the dark night you let out a sigh of relief. You stroll home to your apartment block, recognising a familiar spiky haired figure standing by the door, just about to enter.

Oh, he must've been on the same train and arrived back before me. You catch up and greet your colleague, “Hey, Megumi! Can you hold the door please?”

As he turns round to face you you realise that his uniform is all messed up and ripped. He's all cut up and bleeding.

You gasp, “Megumi! What happened to you?” You instinctively reach over to him, gently inspecting his wounds.

“Ah, yeah. I got a bit beat up today.” He mumbles.

“Do you need any help?” You worriedly ask as you open the door, ushering him inside. “Is there anything you need? What about some dinner? I'm not an awful cook!”

You’re panicking slightly. “It's really not that bad,” he gives you a little smile, “but some food would be nice.” You feel relieved that Megumi will let you help him in some way.

You stop on the second floor and follow Megumi to number seven, entering his clean and organised apartment. “Wow, so different to mine…” you whisper as you enter, taking off your shoes to reveal cute white socks.

Megumi welcomes you into his home and starts to take off his jacket. He winces in pain, the fabric sticking to his skin and pulling on the cuts.

You hurriedly put your bag down to help him.

“Just relax,” you say calmly as you help him slowly peel off his jacket. Underneath he's wearing a plain black t-shirt. You can see scratches and cuts on his arms and chest, blood soaking the material.

“Let's get you cleaned up,” you say softly. You really want to help Megumi and repay him for everything he’s done for you during your first week at the academy.

You carefully take his hand in yours and guide him to the bathroom, presuming that his apartment has the same layout as yours. It does. You open the door and sit him down on the side of the bath. “Please let me help you,” you say quietly, almost whispering.

He nods, starting to pull off his shirt. You can't help but stare as Megumi lifts his shirt over his firm abs, chest, and strong shoulders. He winces as he pulls it over his head, his hair getting ruffled.

“Let me get a cloth and some warm water.” You run the water and Megumi points to the small cupboard.

“You don't have to do this.” He looks up at you from the tub. “Please, I just want to help.” You reply quietly, soaking a small towel in the warm water. He sighs, too tired to reply “Mm.”

You diligently wash Megumi's arms first, then start working on his chest. It's getting so hot in the small bathroom. You occasionally look up at Megumi to see his hazy eyes following your gentle movements.

You can feel his breath on your skin and you’re getting flustered from running your hands over his muscular arms and body.

Megumi tries to refrain from wincing, not wanting to deter you as you're doing such a great job. Your caring, warm hands gliding over his skin, feeling so tender and soft. He really doesn’t want you to stop.

You gently pat him dry and start applying some numbing antiseptic cream from the first aid kit you found, then finish by bandaging over the cuts. Megumi sighs as you relinquish him from your touch.

“Thank you, that felt so much better than when I do it myself.” He looks over to you as you're packing up the first aid kit, thinking about how often he has to do this.

He reaches over and gently pulls you to him, positioning you between his legs as he's sat on the bath. You look down in surprise as Megumi's dark eyes travel up your body, still wearing your black uniform. You feel so pliant in his hands, willing to do anything for him.

He wraps his hands around your waist, moving round to your back as he pulls you in closer. He ducks his head and leans against your stomach, squeezing you in his arms. You gently stroke his messy hair, moving down his neck and over his shirtless broad shoulders.

He mumbles into your belly, “Thank you so much.” He turns his head slightly, “I would get beat up every day if treatment felt this good.”

You feel your cheeks flush pink. “Your hands are so warm and soft,” Megumi continues thanking and complimenting you.

“You don't have to get beat up… for me to touch you…” you trail off, realising what you're saying.

You’re going crazy right now with all of Megumi’s praise for you as he wraps you up in his arms. He feels so strong and you just can’t resist his touch.

“Oh?” He looks up to you, a smirk forming on his handsome face. You basically whimper in embarrassment. “So it's like that, is it?” He mumbles over your stomach, sending vibrations through your body.

“‘m sorry!” You squeak, blushing harder as you try to pull away.

But you’re stopped by a strong grip on your back. “Just a little longer, please,” he pulls you in, his voice deep and needy.

You press into him again, cosy and warm in the hot little bathroom. Both of you could stay here for hours. You sigh and gently stroke his hair, “Shall we get something to eat, Megumi?” He groans softly, “Mm, yeah.”

6: just checking in

The weekend goes by fairly quickly as you’re busy with chores, trying desperately not to replay your steamy Friday night with Megumi in your head over and over.

Your efforts are pretty much in vain as you can’t fight the urge to knock on his door on Saturday, with no luck, and again on Sunday. He opens the door wearing only shorts, rubbing his sleepy eyes. You get flustered and apologise for waking him, quickly handing him a container of chicken soup, feeling a little embarrassed.

You run back upstairs to continue with your Sunday routine. Monday comes around soon enough and you’re back at the academy. You sometimes see Megumi around campus and he always stops to chat with you, however brief this may be.

Tuesday passes and Wednesday evening rolls in- you haven't seen him. You wonder if he’s been busy.

Then again on Thursday, there’s no sign of him. Now you’re concerned that he might be injured again, forced to stay at home?

You’ve got to check.

You knock on number seven and you’re greeted by Megumi holding a towel around his waist, his black hair all floppy and wet. His body is steaming from the shower, water droplets trickling over his firm muscles.

You try to break your stare as he gazes down at you. “Sorry, I–”, you start stumbling, “sorry Megumi, I can come back later?”

He shakes his head, inviting you in. “Don’t worry,” he says in his deep voice, “you’ve seen it all before,” he gives you a smile and closes the door.

It’s literally been three days, but you get this feeling of relief when you see that he’s ok and hear his voice. Have you missed him?

You step into his apartment sheepishly, “I, I just came to see how you’re doing,” you stumble, “I wanted to make sure your injuries are all ok…” you trail off, looking up to his dark eyes.

“You missed me?” Megumi raises an eyebrow, giving you a sly smile.

You laugh out of embarrassment, scratching the back of your head, not able to deny it.

“About my injuries,” he looks down at his muscular arms, “they’re healing up pretty well.” The scratches and cuts have closed up, but still look pink on his pale skin.

Megumi suddenly remembers to thank you for the soup you delivered. “That’s ok,” you start, “you and the other grade one sorcerers seem so busy… I just want to make sure you’re not overworking yourself or making your injuries worse.”

He thanks you and tells you not to worry, “Take some time to think about yourself too, yeah?” You nod and start to make your way home.

You’ve done what you came here for. Megumi is fine, now it’s time to go! You say goodnight as he watches you walk up the stairs.

Friday is a fairly average day, as you continue working with other grade two sorcerers and make some time for training and reading. You eat lunch with Nanami and receive an unexpected but welcome video call from Gojo. You had a pretty rough training session with Toge during the afternoon, leaving you exhausted.

You get home, quickly eat some leftovers and flop onto your bed still wearing your uniform, so ready for the weekend. You somehow get the motivation to get up and take a shower before completely passing out.

You choose some of your favourite lounging around clothes; a pair of black shorts and a cute patterned vest. The shorts are pretty tight, and probably too short to wear outside, but they’re so comfy and keep you cool. The vest has stringy straps and hugs your figure nicely.

You finish getting dressed, dry and brush your hair when you hear a knock at your door. You stroll over, brushing your hair and humming, opening the door to find your handsome colleague. It’s Megumi!

You attempt to hide your obvious excitement, but you smile up at Megumi and greet him.

“I just wanted to check in,” he mumbles a little, “after you checked in on me during the week.” You invite him in as you finish brushing your hair.

“Thanks, Megumi!” You smile and get some drinks for yourself and your sweet colleague, getting comfy on the sofa.

He asks you about your day and you catch up on some of the assignments he’s been on this week. Some of them sound quite intense but he doesn’t appear to have any new injuries.

As Megumi is talking you can't help but get distracted by his dark, dreamy eyes and long lashes, his soft lips and mellow tones.

There's a pause in your chatting so you offer to get some more drinks.

“Yeah, do you have anything a bit stronger than apple juice?” Megumi asks with a smirk, mocking your choice of drink. “Um… I might have something around here…” you reply.

You get up, feeling so comfortable in your own apartment that you forget you're wearing incredibly revealing clothes.

As you're rummaging around in the fridge you turn back to Megumi, “There's nothing in here!” You say, laughing in disbelief.

As you turn to face him you can tell that he's been staring, as he looks away quickly with a light pink blush on his cheeks.

You start searching the cupboards, bending over to look right in the back. You rest your hands on your hips, touching the skin between your tight shorts and vest then reach up to the top cupboard, tiptoeing, which pushes your ass out.

You finally see a bottle on the top shelf, but you can't quite reach it. Perhaps I could climb on the counter? How did it get up there anyway?

You can feel Megumi's eyes on you as you try to reach for the top shelf. He can see you're struggling.

“Do you need a hand over there?” He asks in his deep voice.

“Yes… please,” you try one more time, sighing in frustration as you sink down again.

Megumi comes up close behind you and reaches over your shoulder. His fingers can't quite close around the bottle from this distance so he touches your waist gently, closing the gap between your bodies to get closer to the cupboard. You can feel his body pushed up against your back as he stretches up to the top shelf.

You can feel his chest and firm abs beneath his shirt, and his hips push up against you.

“Got it,” he sets the bottle down on the counter. He doesn't pull away from behind you, so you turn to face him.

“Thanks, I'm too short,” you reply, looking down at your small body.

“No, you're a nice height,” he compliments you, then wraps his arms around your waist and up your back. He squeezes you, his fingers tickling your waist making you giggle and reach up around his shoulders, hugging him back.

Then you feel your feet lift off the floor as Megumi suddenly picks you up, setting you on the counter as his arms remain wrapped around you.

“Now you're too tall,” Megumi says, frowning slightly.

Your faces are so much closer now, and he doesn’t have to arch down to look at you, nor do you have to tip toe up to hug him.

You can’t help the pink blush forming on your cheeks as you look into his dark eyes.

A comfortable silence envelops the two of you, your arms draped over his shoulders, his hands on your waist.

He reaches a hand up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“There’s that pretty blush again,” he mutters absentmindedly.

You look down, feeling shy, earning a breathy chuckle from the dark haired man. He tilts your chin back up again, his fingers holding you ever so delicately.

“Please… can I kiss you?” he asks in a low whisper.

Your eyes go wide as you look at him in disbelief.

“Hey, don't act all shy and surprised. You must know I'm into you, right?” His voice is low as he looks into your eyes sternly.

“I didn't realise you liked me that much… I thought you were just being nice and looking after me at work…” you mumble, looking back into his pretty eyes.

“I'm not really that nice… to anyone.” He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I volunteered to train with you because I didn't want anyone else to go near you.” He sighs.

You can't believe he's been feeling this way. You're so surprised and flattered that someone like him would really have a crush on you.

“And now you've been teasing me all evening…” you look down, away from his intense gaze, “I didn't mean to tease you” you say quietly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

His hand cups your chin, bringing your lips closer to his.

“You know what you've been doing to me tonight,” he looks you up and down, “bending over in front of me in those little shorts.” His other hand squeezes your waist.

“I, I'm sorry, I just–” you're silenced as Megumi moves his thumb over your lips, still delicately holding your face up.

“Don't apologise,” he raises an eyebrow, “you just have to be prepared for the consequences.” He looks down at your pretty face as the corner of his lip curls up.

“Megumi…” You mutter. He sighs heavily through his nose, staring into your eyes. You squirm under his gaze, realising he might be losing his patience.

“Of course…” you pause, your big eyes peering into his, “you can kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

His lips crash into yours, reaching his hand to the back of your neck.

He’s finding it impossible to control himself, his tongue already licking at your lips. You eagerly open for him, your tongues intertwining as you feel his canines grazing your lip, making you let out a little moan.

You hold each other so close, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands work up your back and neck, through your hair.

Megumi somehow slows down and pulls away, sucking on your lip, “I’ve been wanting to do that… for a while.”

As he gazes down at you Megumi sighs in relief, holds your head to his and smiles. This isn’t a sarcastic mocking smile, a smirk or teasing smile. This is a genuine, happy smile from Megumi.

His handsome face is usually so serious and gloomy, or giving you a flirty smile, teasing you about something.

But now he looks elated.

“I would’ve kissed you sooner… if I knew you’d smile at me like that”, you say looking up at his pretty lips. Megumi laughs, “I know, my friends tell me I don’t smile enough…” he starts, “but I think different things make different people happy.”

“Megumi…” your soft lips whisper over his.

7: desire

His lips are all over yours again, sucking and biting gently as you pull each other impossibly closer.

“I, I just can’t stop thinking about you…” his voice comes out a little strained, “been driving me crazy. Every time I see you I just… I just want you… so bad.”

“Megumi… I– I feel the same way…” You stare up at him, listening to his confessions, still in slight disbelief.

“When we touch… I’ve been so close to just grabbing you and…” he trails off, taking you into another deep and passionate kiss, his hands squeezing your waist and sides.

“You want me?” he asks, breathing over your lips. His words send shivers through you.

You nod eagerly. He leans closer, his lips grazing against yours as he gives you a serious look, “You gonna be good?”

Is this the same man as just a few seconds ago? You look up to him with pleading eyes, wanting him to kiss you again.

“Will you?” His voice drops, a new tone emerging. You can’t help but nod your head, enjoying where this is going, “Mm hmm, I’ll be good, Megumi.”

Megumi groans softly hearing his name from your needy lips, leaning in again. He’s so hungry to taste you, forgoing any gentle kissing as he bites and sucks, pushing his tongue deeper.

Suddenly you feel Megumi’s hands grip you and he picks you up, holding you close to his body he carries you to your bedroom. It’s painted white and dusty pink and is pretty girly. “Cute”, Megumi snorts.

“Before I get too carried away,” he starts in a serious tone as his hands move down to caress your thighs that are wrapped around his waist, “I can be, um… pretty rough sometimes… if it's too much please tell me. I only want to make you feel good, ok?”

Getting a warning like this is nice, but not typical of more dominant people. He must be pretty into you, you think as he sits you down on the bed, towering over you.

“Rough sex with Megumi Fushiguro… hmm…” you hum his full name and bite your lip, which only makes him grip you tighter, “must be my lucky day, because that's how I like it,” you say flirtatiously, earning a low chuckle in reply.

Megumi's quiet confidence and serious nature have led you to believe he would be like this, only drawing you to him further.

But he's private, somewhat mysterious, not easily divulging what he likes– you just have to get to know him, and you have, slowly, revealing many similarities and shared interests.

Your thoughts are interrupted as you notice the bulge in Megumi’s black trousers, and he has a perfect view of your perky breasts, your nipples already poking through your thin vest.

As he looks down at you, you can’t resist, you have to run your fingers along his belt to the buckle at the front, tugging gently.

Megumi raises an eyebrow, “Take your hands off me, and take your vest off” he stares down at you as you lean back, “now.”

He’s not asking, he’s telling you. And you do as you’re told, your perky breasts bouncing as you remove your thin top.

Megumi licks his lips and climbs over you, still fully clothed as his eyes rake up and down your body, taking in your beautiful features.

He bites your lip, making your chin tilt up as you whimper over his mouth.

The sexiest smirk tugs at his lips.

You feel his hand stroking up your body, finding your chin as he takes a grip. “Open” he mutters, staring at your mouth, making you shiver and obey.

“Let me see your tongue…” his breath fans your face, your big eyes darting up to his as you hesitate for a second then gingerly stick out your tongue.

His lips close over your warm muscle, sucking and licking, making you let out a surprised moan into his mouth. You knew your tongue was pretty sensitive, but this feels so erotic, making your hips jump and twitch.

He pulls away as you feel a strong hand on your hips, “Stay still, pretty girl.”

His lips are on you again, kissing down to your sensitive nipples, sucking and dragging his sharp teeth over your body leaving little marks. He squeezes and licks until you’re like putty in his hands, his head sinking lower, pulling down your skimpy shorts and underwear.

You’re now fully naked in front of this perfect man, melting into his every touch, needy for more. As he pulls away from your body and discards the last of your clothing he looks down at you, eyes half lidded and full of lust.

His gaze travels down past your waist as you reflexively close your legs.

Megumi shakes his head slowly, completely disapproving. “Did I tell you to close your legs?” You shake your head apologetically. “So keep them open for me.” He commands quietly, parting your legs easily with his delicate hands.

He strokes over your thighs, his fingers inching closer to your hot wetness. “Already soaked…” he mutters, “must want me pretty bad?” He adds, smirking up at you.

“Mm” you just moan, not wanting to open your mouth… you know something shameful is bound to come out.

“Tell me how badly you want me.” You moan again, his lips teasing you as he speaks. “Want you Megumi… need you so bad”, you whine as he hums against you gently, breathing over your clit.

He looks up at you expectantly. “Mm?” You’re getting so impatient for him now, so desperate. You know what he wants.

“Please, Megumi,” you start, looking down at him with your big, pretty eyes, “please touch me” you whine, your cheeks all pink, barely able to look into his eyes.

“Better,” he utters and closes his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over you. You let out a loud gasp, more needy moans following until you bite your lip in an attempt to stay quiet.

“What are you doing?” He asks softly, pausing. “I, I didn't want to be too noisy. The neighbours…” you stumble and bite your lip closed again.

“That's too bad, princess,” he starts, using this pet name makes you whimper quietly, “I need to hear you.”

You look down at him, releasing your lip from between your teeth, leaving it pink and puffy. Megumi gives your pussy a long, slow lick and groans softly, “Good girl. Please try your best to behave for me.”

He suddenly slides his big tongue inside you, making you let out a loud moan as your hips jerk up to his mouth. You can feel him smirking against you as he's got just what he wants.

Your hands tangle up in his jet black hair, getting light headed from his sexy moans.

He moves his lips up to your clit as you feel a long finger slide inside you. He reaches so far back. “Megumi… mm, ‘m so close…”

He inserts another finger, bringing you closer to the edge as his tongue continues flicking your clit.

“Megumi!” You scream and gasp, your toes curling and your hands gripping onto his black hair. “Megumi… Megumi, I'm cumming…” you moan between deep breaths, feeling the man below you slow down, groaning and swallowing.

Your hips jerk then relax, feeling his fingers slide out. He opens his mouth over you, feeling his teeth and lips, his tongue taking a final taste as he pulls himself away.

“You've made such a mess, pretty girl. Better help me clean up”, he pulls you up, eyeing your pink lips.

You lick your wetness from his fingers, chin and lips as he opens his mouth for a deep kiss, pushing his tongue back inside you.

“So good for me, princess, maybe you'll be rewarded”, he says, standing up from the bed.

8: reward

Megumi has been fully clothed in his well fitting white shirt and black trousers all evening. He’s had his fun with you, getting you all hot and needy. Just how he likes his girls.

Your eyes follow his every movement as Megumi unbuttons his shirt. This was worth the wait. You bite your lip as he reveals his muscular body, some faint scars evident.

Edging closer to him, you reach your hands out to trace over his abs and work your way down to his trousers. You manage to unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper before you feel strong hands around your wrists.

“So this pretty little princess wants my cock, hmm?” He asks teasingly.

You nod, yes. His dark eyes lock onto yours, gripping you tightly. Something tells you he’s not going to give it up that easily.

“You think you can just… help yourself?” He raises an eyebrow as you blink up at him innocently.

He easily restrains your wrists in his right, his left hand pulling the belt from his trousers.

Before your brain has time to process, Megumi throws you onto the bed in front of him, “On your knees.” He commands.

You fumble slightly as your wrists ache from his tight grip.

“Now.” He growls, pulling your hips up himself so that your round ass is facing towards him.

“Stay still.” His hands leave your body as you hear his belt snapping behind you.

Fuck. You get a shiver of anticipation, a wave of goosebumps spreading down your neck and spine.

“It’s not that you’re a bad girl,” his hand rests on your lower back, his thumb tracing circles over your dimples, “just a little too… impatient. And entitled. I think we can work on it, though…”

He pauses, the air thick with tension. You’ve had enough time to stop him, to prevent what’s about to happen. You could’ve turned around at any moment and told him that you’re not into this and you don’t want him to hurt you. You know he’d listen.

But you don’t. Because you’re loving every second.

A loud slap breaks the silence. You take in a sharp breath, but barely flinch. He’s just testing the waters, making sure you’re ok with this.

How sweet, you think.

Slap, a bit harder this time, causing you to let out a quiet whimper.

“You want it harder?” He asks gruffly. You nod quickly, turning back with your needy, madly blushing face as if to convince him.

Asking for permission? How respectful.

Slap, much harder this time.

You let out a quiet “fuck” with a string of whimpers, your toes curling with pleasure.

“Who knew such a pretty girl,” his big hand caresses your red ass, “would be so kinky?” He mutters in disbelief, his voice low.

Another hard slap has got you moaning his name. That’s what he wanted.

“C’mere,” he pulls you up to face him, nice and close, “you’re gonna be my perfect little girl?” His thumb traces your lips as you nod eagerly, “Mm, promise.”

“Oh good, that means you can have my cock whenever you want.” Your eyes focus on his lips. “Just need to be a little more patient, ok? Sit pretty and ask nicely. Think you can do that?”

You let out a breathless, “yeah…” your eyes trailing down his perfect body as he holds you, his trousers half undone with such a tempting bulge hanging out. Your eyes linger there for a moment.

“Megumi…” you breathe out, your eyes working up his body again, studying every detail, “please can I touch you?” You murmur. He nods, your hands feeling over muscle and cool, pale skin.

Your eyes reach his, watching his beautiful black lashes as he blinks slowly. The air is so still and silent. Your delicate fingers find his waistband.

“Please can I?” You whisper over his lips.

He stays quiet, his dark eyes looking between your lips and eyes, silently urging you to continue.

“Need you, Megumi…” you murmur, “really need to suck you…”

His eyes dart up to yours, the corner of his lip twitching into a tiny smirk.

“Beg” the word comes out low and quiet, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine.

His voice gives you butterflies on a normal day, but you’re so close, the words he’s uttering having so much power over you. It feels so intimate. You'd do anything he asked.

Your big eyes peer into his, your lips parting as your voice catches in your throat, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Please…” you let the word fall from your lips, “promise I’ll make you feel so good, Megumi…” you hear a low grunt from the man before you as you bite your lip, the alluring blush returning to your cheeks. Just a little more.

You push him back slightly, kneeling on the carpet below, so close to what you want.

“Will you let me…” you continue, one of his hands finding the back of your neck. He strokes your hair gently as his blue eyes go black with lust, watching you kneel there begging for him.

“Please” you murmur as he pulls you closer. “So good, princess…” his hand finds your chin, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip as your fingers pull down his tight shorts and trousers.

He doesn’t stop you.

He lets out a sigh of relief, his erection slapping against his abs as you lick your lips, swallowing hard. You edge closer, his thumb opening your mouth as he presses his pretty cock over your lips.

“Megumi…” you moan over his wet tip, so ready to take him. You lick him slowly, looking up at his lustful expression.

He can’t help but push into your mouth, his tip going down your throat, making you gag as tears prick in your eyes. He lets out a strangled moan, “fuck, so good.”

He lets you suck on him, going at your own pace for a while. You suck and lick, your lips enclosing him so deliciously. Your tongue presses up the underside of his cock, licking up and swirling around his smooth, sensitive head.

“Nhh…” he moans as you suck on his tip then take him in again, his hips beginning to jerk, his cock going deeper. You try so hard to control your breathing through your nose, swallowing him down.

“Yeah, like that… fuck…” you earn another pretty moan, his eyes closed in bliss as he grabs the back of your neck, pulling your hair.

Your eyes well up as he thrusts harder, gripping tighter.

You need to breathe, your throat is so full you feel suffocated. You let out a whine as your throat contracts around him, choking and gagging.

His eyes suddenly open, realising what he’s doing as he lets go of your neck. You pull away hiccupping, taking in ragged breaths. You recover for a second then move to take him back into your mouth, making Megumi let out a low chuckle.

“‘s much as I loved watching you gag… this pretty mouth has done enough…” he strokes your lips with his thumb.

“But– but–” your eyes are wide, wanting more. He just presses his thumb over your lips.

“Get on the bed. Lay down.”

You give him a pleading look.

“Look, I can’t control myself…” his voice comes out strained, “it’ll be my fault if you get hurt.” He returns you a desperate look.

“Get up.”

You can’t disobey him.

9: wish

Megumi wraps his hand around his cock, pumping himself while pushing you back on the bed. He climbs over you, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him in. He leans over you, slides a condom over himself, and looks into your eyes, waiting.

“Please, Megumi…” your voice a soft whine.

As you look back into his dark blue eyes his expression changes. He teases you with his tip, still having an ounce of patience left, rubbing you up and down.

“Please… what?” he asks breathily.

“Need your cock… please. Need you inside me…” you reply, giving him what he wants.

“Mm, princess…” his eyelids flutter, hearing you begging so nicely. You can feel his cock pressing against you, rock hard and thick at your entrance.

“Only say stop if you mean it, ok?” he says with a serious tone, looking into your eyes.

You nod, “Yeah, promise”

He pushes his length into you. Hard. He has a dark, almost animalistic look in his eyes and lets out a loud moan.

A scream escapes your mouth, your hips jerking up to meet his, pleasure and pain flooding your body. He thrusts roughly into you, “fuck, yes…” he growls into your neck and takes you into a hot kiss.

Your hands can’t help but wander over his body, feeling his tensing muscles. He twitches as you squeeze over his hips, pulling him in harder. You’re given a disapproving look as he takes your hands and pins them over your head.

He keeps rolling his hips, biting and sucking your shoulder as he holds your wrists tight. He turns his head, sucking your ear, his tongue working inside making you whine.

His grip on you tightens, hearing your needy whimpers.

“You’d look so pretty… with some rope around your wrists…” his deep voice travels through you, words forming into images in your mind. Your pussy squeezes around his length involuntarily, your eyelashes fluttering.

He smirks against your neck, feeling the telltale signs of your pleasure building up.

“You want me to tie you up, sweet girl?” He asks gruffly, your back arching up.

Your mouth hangs open as you whine and nod dumbly, feeling so full and fucked out, his pace making you numb with pleasure.

He's got you whimpering, “P-please… need– ah, need you to tie me up nn– n’ fuck me”

A needy, surprised expression crosses Megumi's features, not expecting you to reply properly at this point. “Can’t say stuff like that,” he breathes out, your pussy squeezing him again, “gonna make me fucking cum” he moans as his hand releases your wrists, only to find your neck.

Delicate fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing gently at first. You moan softly, encouraging him to get a little rougher. His grip tightens around you, restricting your breath as he groans, his thrusts getting harder. “Fuckk– can’t take it… so close…” his voice comes out so needy.

He suddenly pulls out, “Get on your knees.” He wants more– he wants all of you. He wants this night to last forever.

You see stars when he slides back inside, his eyes all over you in the mirror. He watches your back arching as you push against him. “Touch yourself” he commands quietly. You're close anyway, you’re going to be over the edge in seconds.

A few tight circles over your clit and you’re ready, “M-Megumi– I, I–” there’s no way you can hold it.

“Can’t talk? S’ok,” he slaps your ass, pushing you over, “pretty girls like you don’t need to talk.” You have a euphoric orgasm, feeling Megumi's hand burning your plush skin, his cock so deep you get that achy feeling in your stomach and throat.

He chuckles, “cumming when I spank you nice 'n hard, huh?” You can only moan out “yesyes mhh– Megumi” riding out your high all over him as your eyes roll back.

“Hot…” he holds up your head, his hand in your hair, “what do you want me to do to you?”

“W-want you to- ah, fuck me hard, Megumii-”

He groans, his fist gripping your hair tight as he pumps you.

“-fuck me till I'm hurting”

“You- you want me to??” He moans out, losing his breath.

You nod, yes, “want you to use use me-”

Megumi groans and cums hard. His jaw clenched tight, a deep growl coming from his chest. You could almost cum again from the sight of him. He grips you painfully tight, finally getting his release.

You hold each other close, Megumi resting his head gently on your shoulder, kissing you, whispering sweet praises.

You share the small bathroom, getting cleaned up, then return to your bed.

“Never thought we’d be so… well matched,” he says, smiling and pulling you closer. You smile sweetly, “Mm,” you hum over his lips, “I like all kinds of stuff”

He raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? Maybe you can show me sometime.” You tuck your head under his, cuddling up close as you chat and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

10: closer

After your long night with Megumi you wake up and rub your eyes, turning in your bed. He's still next to you, sleeping soundly. You look at his beautiful, peaceful face, his long, dark eyelashes fanned out against his pale skin. His spiky black hair is even messier than usual, thanks to your hands running through it all night.

You edge closer to him and snuggle under his strong arm, resting your head on his chest. You feel his arm squeezing you and his other hand reaches over to your waist. He suddenly grabs you and slides you on top of him.

“Ah, Megumi!” You squeak in surprise, as you thought he was still asleep. You snuggle into him, laying on top of his gorgeous body, as he wraps his strong arms around your waist.

“Good morning,” he mumbles, his voice deeper than usual. You turn your head and kiss his neck and jaw.

“Good morning, Megumi,” you reply, already feeling Megumi's hard cock beneath you. You sit up, shifting your weight and grinding a little. He squeezes your waist as you move, groaning softly.

Megumi looks up over your body, licking his lips as his eyes travel up to your gorgeous breasts, slender neck and pretty face. He grinds up against you, feeling your wetness on him already.

He raises an eyebrow, watching you eagerly grind on him, “Better be careful what you wish for.” He says in his deep voice. “Mm... You’re so hard, can't help it…” you moan, pushing your wetness over him.

Megumi bucks his hips, moving you up as you grab a condom, sliding it over. You rub his tip against you, making him nice and wet, then move down, taking in just his bulging head.

He can't resist you like this. His usually stoic face is blushing, his eyebrows raised, biting his lower lip as he grinds back against you, pushing more of himself in.

You push him all the way in, sitting on top of him.

You feel a twinge inside; you’re not used to his size after one night. “Mmmh…” he groans loudly, filling you up. You can feel his dick twitching, getting impatient for you to move.

You slowly fuck him, moving up and down his length. “Mm… Megumi…” you moan as you keep riding him, getting a little faster, feeling your wetness over his thick cock.

He looks up at you with such a sexy expression, squeezing your hips and helping you ride him. “Fuck– princess, so good, fucking me like this” he moans, watching you bounce on his cock.

“Mm… wanna be your good girl, Megumii-” his praise encourages you to ride him faster, ensuring to stroke up and down his whole length.

“-yes” he growls, “you know what good girls get?” You shake your head.

He looks up at you with his flirty smile, “I’ll show you.”

Megumi grabs your ass in his strong hands and starts thrusting into you hard. You scream his name, begging him for more as he fucks into you.

“That good?” He asks breathily, fucking you harder and harder. “Uh huh, th- thankyou–” you moan out, earning a handsome smirk as you grip onto the headboard.

You're starting to feel dizzy off the pleasure, about to burst from the intense feeling of being pushed open and filled up, over and over.

Megumi suddenly reaches up, grabbing your neck to pull you down. His tongue and teeth are all over you, devouring you in a hot kiss.

You're pushed over the edge as his abdomen grinds smoothly against your clit. You're whimpering into his mouth, licking, sucking and swallowing his sexy moans while his hand grips your neck so you can't pull back.

“Mhh– Megumii–” his name comes out slurred, your pussy clenching him hard.

He keeps going, rutting faster, your whole body throbbing and going limp with pleasure. Your orgasm is drawn out longer, each thrust taking you higher.

“So close, princess…” he moans into your mouth, his thrusts getting rougher. He can't help it, can't hold back.

He fucks into you sporadically, releasing his load with a grunt.

You lay on top of him, shaking as you try to prop yourself up, your lip trembling.

“S'okay, come here” he pulls you down, laying all your weight on him.

“Did so well” he murmurs and strokes your hair as you calm down. Your bodies relax, feeling spent after such intense sex.

He gently lifts you off his leaky cock, the condom totally filled, and lays you down, kissing and praising you some more.

“Let's get cleaned up,” he says, taking your hand and helping you up into the bathroom to take a shower.

You stand together under the warm water, getting hot and steamy. Megumi's hair flops down his face in a dark, messy mop.

You press your naked body up to his firm chest and abs. You tiptoe up to kiss him and he leans down into you, deepening the kiss with his tongue sliding into your mouth, his hands all over you.

You pull away, looking down to see Megumi’s hard cock rubbing against you. You can’t help but smile up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Megumi… can I please help you?” You offer, peering up at him again through wet eyelashes.

“Mmh– think you’ve done enough for me this morning?” He sighs out against your forehead, “‘m just being greedy now…”

“Mm mm,” you shake your head, “wanna feel you in my mouth again… please.” You know he wants it. You can feel his cock between your thighs as he moans softly.

You're getting so hot for him now as you stroke his chest and abs. “Wanna suck you so bad… ” you look up at him with those cute puppy eyes. You honestly want to make him feel so good, and you’re annoyed last time he didn’t let you finish getting him off.

Megumi lets out a groan against your lips, “Mm, love hearing you ask so nicely.” You feel his hand moving up behind your neck and shoulders. He pushes you down gently, “Get on your knees for me,” a command you love to hear from this gorgeous man.

You kneel in front of him, pressing your lips against his hard cock. “Mm…” you moan and lick his hard length. You look up at him with pleading eyes, sucking gently on his tip.

He grants you full permission and pushes your head down over him, grinding into your mouth with his thick cock. You moan loudly onto his dick, sucking him and taking him all in.

You move up and down his length, taking him nice and deep then swirling your tongue over his tip, licking him until he's moaning for you.

“Feels s’ good…” he praises you and pushes himself deep. “Fuck!” He groans, grabbing your hair.

“Getting… so close…” he grinds into you, ramming his cock deeper and deeper, “Love fucking your throat like this… doing so well for me– just a little more…” he trails off, moaning as you suck on him, bobbing your head faster and faster.

You know Megumi's pleasure is building up inside him as he grips your hair tighter. “Fuck- gonna cum…” he groans, moving back to pull out.

You just squeeze his hips tightly and continue pushing him into you. Megumi grunts as his hips move erratically, his hot cum spurting into your wet mouth and down your throat. You lick and suck him clean, swallowing every last drop.

He looks down at you with a surprised, fucked out expression. You wish you could take a picture.

“You really didn't have to do that,” he says as he looks down at you, pushing your hair out of your face. You can’t help but giggle at him, “I really wanted to, Megumi. Wanna make you feel good.”

He helps you up, holding you in his arms and kissing you under the warm water. “Well, you succeeded…” he whispers into your ear. You hold each other in the shower for a little longer then step out after washing up.

You put on a cute dress as Megumi dries off. He asks to stay at yours for the day so you run down to his apartment and get him some comfy clothes. You make some breakfast together and get cosy on the sofa, resting your head on Megumi's lap, exchanging a few words and comforting touches.

11: date

As the weekend passes you get back to the academy. You're enjoying a more private relationship with Megumi for now- neither of you are big on pda but you can tell he's always desperate to see you again; he’s all over you when you get a moment alone.

He comes back to the academy for lunch more often, waiting on you and making sure you're not working too hard. You catch the train together, he's staying at yours a lot, and he texts you to come over if you don’t see him at work.

You enjoy each other’s company; looking after each other after the busy days and weeks, eating dinner out, getting drinks, and spending time with Yuji and Nobara on the weekends, too.

Nobara and you have gone on a few shopping trips together, dragging Yuji along to carry your bags. And Megumi sometimes has Yuji visiting, so you've gone out drinking with them a couple of times and had some movie nights at Megumi's. You're not sure if either of them have a clue about you and Megumi– perhaps Yuji does.

You're getting much closer with Gojo and Nanami, as your lovely manager insists on checking in by phone every week and you have regular lunch breaks with Nanami.

Nanami’s quite reserved, but you’re getting to know him and you think he likes you too. He'll often buy you tea or coffee from the vending machines and bring it to you at lunch. He'll read his paper and catch up with how your training is going

You haven't seen Gojo in person now for a good few weeks and, strangely enough, you're starting to miss him. That's until he video calls you when you're going for dinner after work with Megumi. You answer the phone without realising Megumi is standing right behind you.

“Oh heyyyyy! You're with Megumi!” His voice is so loud over the phone. “Um, yes! Hello! What is it, Gojo? Work's over, you know!” You try to hush Gojo a little.

“Wait a minute… are you guys on a date?!” He basically shouts over the phone, his face beaming through the screen. Megumi rolls his eyes and leans over to the screen, “What do you want?”

Gojo continues teasing, “Gumi's on a date!!” He sings loudly. “I'm coming home this weekend, lovebirds! Will you please organise a night out for meeee?” You're glad he got to the point. “Uh, yes, we'll try our best!!” You reply quickly as you're heading inside. “Thank you!! See you tomorrow!”

He hangs up and you're both relieved. You raise an eyebrow at Megumi as you enter the restaurant, “Gumi?” You smile cheekily, repeating Gojo's nickname. Megumi just glares at you with his dark blue eyes, “Don't even think about it.” He mumbles.

You sit and down and sigh, feeling a little disappointed that, of all people, Gojo had to find out. Everybody will know within days.

“You're not ashamed of being with me, are you?” Megumi asks, raising an eyebrow and smirking at you, obviously teasing. “Megumi, you know I really like you…” you get a little worked up with a little pout on your face although you know he's teasing.

“Oh yeah?” He leans over the table, reaching his hands towards yours as he edges closer. “Maybe you should prove it.” What a flirt, you think and lean over the table.

His fingers snake around your neck and he pulls you into a kiss, moving his tongue into your mouth and pulling you closer. This kiss is getting way too hot…

You attempt to pull back, but his fingers just grip you tighter and he smirks against your mouth, then sucks your lip nearly making you moan. The kiss is over when he decides.

He lets you sit back in your chair and seems pleased with your pink blush. “Huh, maybe you really do like me then.” He shrugs. You just roll your eyes, “Of course I do…”

“If you like me so much… do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks casually, leaving you stunned. You nod and wrap your fingers around his hand, feeling your blush spreading to your ears.

You order some food and enjoy your meal out with your boyfriend. Megumi tries to behave as you're getting a little worked up. When he's in a flirty mood everything he does just gets you so flustered.

After your meal you start heading home together. You're so happy that Megumi asked you to be his girlfriend, although you know that's pretty much how it's been anyway. Now you just have Gojo to deal with when he gets back tomorrow.

As you're chatting on your way to the train station you realise you still need to ask people out for drinks tomorrow.

“Shit, I kinda forgot about that.” Megumi rubs his forehead and sighs. “Do we have to? We could just stay home,” he leans a little closer, “you could put on your favourite movie while I eat you out… or we could listen to music while I finger you… or we could just make out in the shower?” He asks, genuinely trying to persuade you to stay in.

“Megumi…” You whine as you try to cover your ears. He only gets closer as he moves your hands down, gripping your wrists.

“Or I could tie you up and fuck you all night… till you're begging me to stop?” His deep voice sends shivers through your whole body. He sucks on your earlobe and gently bites you. “Would you like that, princess?” He asks seductively.

You're trying so hard to keep it together as you're standing waiting for your train. You're so close to letting out a moan. Megumi is relentless when he gets horny like this, wanting to make you as horny as he is. And it's working.

As much as your body wants to submit to Megumi, you try to break away from his intense flirting to organise your get together. You quickly get your phone out and pace around the station, making a little distance between you and Megumi. He huffs and gets out his phone. He was really hoping to distract you from the task completely and is a little disappointed he has to talk to anyone other than you.

He starts with Nobara, as he hears you've already had success with your first call, “Great, see you tomorrow, Yuji!” You beam over the phone to your friend.

Nanami is a little more difficult to convince, “Please, Nanami…” he can basically see your puppy eyes as he hears you whining over the phone.

“Hmm, ok. But I'm only going because you asked me.” He says flatly. “Oh, ok Nanami!” You blush a little. “See you tomorrow night.” You hang up and see how Megumi is getting on. He's wrapped up his calls with Nobara, Toge and Panda and has texted some others who you haven't met yet.

You hop on the train and manage to get into Megumi’s apartment without him stripping you.

12: trust

As soon as you’re inside he slams the door and attacks your lips, biting and sucking, pushing his tongue in your mouth aggressively.

He kisses and strokes down your clothed body, kneeling in front of you as you're pushed up against the door.

He kisses your stomach and works his hands up your soft thighs, lifting your dress. “But– I've been working all day! Please! Can I take a shower??” You ask all flustered and embarrassed.

He looks up at you, furrowing his eyebrows and lifting your dress further, exposing your cute white pants. “No.” He mutters as he bites the white hem, pulling them down.

He licks a teasing stripe up your clit then pulls you to a dining chair, sitting you down and spreading your legs. He places soft kisses up your creamy thighs and laps up your dripping wetness. He lets out a deep moan, kissing your clit gently and suddenly ramming his tongue inside you.

Megumi feels so good that you forget your embarrassment for a minute, moaning his name and pulling his hair. This is exactly what he wants.

His cock is straining so hard in his trousers it's almost painful. He undoes his belt and zipper, pumping himself for some relief as he eats you out, moaning into your wet pussy. “Mmh- ‘m close…” you moan, so turned on by Megumi touching himself beneath you.

“Wanna feel you cum on my cock,” he breathes over you and gives you another teasing lick. “But, but– please!!” You scream, feeling desperate for release.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, kissing you softly. “'m so cloooose…” you whine. “Mm, but I really want to fuck you.” His eyes are all over your wet pussy, one hand on his cock as the other grips your waist.

Megumi stands up and strips off his work clothes as you stare up at his perfect body, squeezing your thighs together to ease your throbbing clit. He picks you up, carrying you to his room as his erection rubs over you.

He stands you in front of the mirror and bends you over, teasing you with his hard cock. You’ve been done with condoms for a few weeks now, having found another contraceptive.

Megumi picks out a vibrator you’ve left at his and lines himself up. You squeeze against him, desperate to feel him inside.

“You trying to fuck me, princess?” He asks, strong hands stilling your movements. You nod submissively.

“You know what I need,” he utters, rubbing his thumb over your tight ass. He looks so serious in the mirror, his dark eyes locked onto yours as the vibrator stimulates your clit.

“Megumi…” you moan his name, making him grunt as his tip slides in. Your voice has so much control over him now, you realise. Although you know Megumi will always be the one in control.

“-need your dick, please… need you to fill me up…” you moan as you watch him look down to where you’re connected, losing his patience. “Please fuck me…” you whine, grinding against him.

“Say my name” he growls, clicking the vibrator up to the next setting, making you buck against him.

“Fuck– I– please, Megumi!” You moan and squirm over his leaky cock.

“Mm, that’s it, think you’re ready now?” He asks, staring at where your slick juices are running down your thighs, then up to your blushing face. He knows you’re already close to cumming from all this teasing.

You nod, your mouth hanging open, “need daddy's cock” you moan as you desperately try to move your hips.

Megumi's eyes go wide in the mirror, his pupils dilated as he grabs your hair. “Gonna get such a good fucking for that,” he utters and sinks his cock in.

He slides in slow, each inch taking you closer.

As soon as his fat tip hits your cervix your pussy flutters around him, your eyes rolling back.

“That was quick, pretty girl,” he chuckles, pushing impossibly deeper, massaging you with the vibrator as he holds your hip up, “that good, huh?” He smiles and watches you come undone, your legs shaking as the pleasure courses through you.

He squeezes you hard and fucks you slowly. “M– nnghh…” you moan incoherently as Megumi grinds his hips against you slowly.

His hand tangles in your hair, pulling your face up, his lips locking with yours. His thrusts are hard and deep, full of lust and passion. Your eyes are fixed on his beautiful face in the mirror as he praises you, telling you what a pretty girl you are.

He stares back, his dark eyes hovering over your open mouth and teary eyes as you beg for him to keep going.

“Felt you cum all over me so nicely, princess,” his strong hands stroke up and down your back, settling on your hips as you're spread wide for him, “you wanna feel mine?”

You nod instantly, “yesyes, please,” you moan, wanting Megumi to feel the same pleasure you just did, wanting him to release inside you.

Megumi lets out a deep groan and squeezes your thighs hard. He gives you a few more gentle pumps of his cock then he rams into you quickly. He's pumping you so hard and fast, your ass slapping against him.

“Love it when you fuck me like this…” you moan as he moves a hand to your ass, pinching your cheek. You moan his name again as you get a stinging slap on your round ass.

“Harder… please…” You know you're really asking for trouble now. Megumi growls, grips your shoulder and fucks you relentlessly, giving your ass another hard smack.

You scream and moan for him as he leans over you, “You like a good spanking, hmm?” He murmurs. You can only whimper and nod, the words not forming in your fucked out brain.

You can tell he’s getting close; his groans are getting louder as he tries to muffle himself on your neck. He sucks and bites you hard as he pumps you with his cock, leaving soft bruises and marks over your skin. Feeling his teeth on you like this makes you arch into him further, needing more.

He finishes his works of art and releases your neck, his saliva dripping all over you.

“Fuck– those look hot,” he breathes out, “now everyone can see who you belong to…” he traces your neck, gripping gently, “‘nd who’s that, princess?” He asks, his voice unwavering.

“I'm yours, Megumi– I, I belong to you,” you reply between soft moans, looking up at him innocently as he fucks you nice and deep.

“Love that you're so possessive, Megumi… I'm all yours–” You moan out.

“You seem to love a lot of things about me, princess… do you think you might love me?” He asks, his dark eyes meeting yours in the mirror. Your eyes widen, his sudden question sending butterflies through your body.

You didn't realise you were saying you love so many things about him tonight, making your feelings so obvious, yet again. But you know it's true. You nod your head, “-yeah, Megumi, I do love you.” You say as sweetly as you can with his cock buried deep in you.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a gorgeous smile gracing his features as he moans in your ear, “Mm, I love you too.” His hips go wild, fucking his cum deep inside you.

He leans over you, caressing your body and kissing your shoulders, “I love you so much, mm…” Megumi groans and licks your soft neck to help silence himself. His cum is dripping down your legs as he pulls out slowly. You both get washed up and lay down on your bed together.

“I can't believe you answered me like that, I didn't realise you really felt that way…” he says breathlessly, looking deep into your eyes.

“For a while now,” you say quietly, nodding and smiling up at him.

He looks so excited, pulling you on top of him and squeezing you tight, “I’m so lucky.” He sighs with relief as you return a sweet smile and sink deeper into his arms.

13: certain

You wake up late, snuggled up in Megumi's bed. He's not laying next to you but you can hear him in the kitchen next door. You get up and throw on one of his baggy jumpers which is nearly a dress on you. As you leave the bedroom you can smell something yummy.

You approach Megumi, who is bending over the stove, and cuddle him from behind, feeling his taut abs through his t-shirt.

“Hey, princess” he switches the stove off and turns to you, hugging you back and placing soft kisses on your head. “I left you sleeping…” he smiles against your skin. You look up at his dark eyes, “Mm…” you mumble, resting your head on his firm chest, feeling too sleepy for conversation.

“Oh sweet girl,” he strokes your hair, “I tired you out?” He asks with a smile. “I’m ok… just a little achy.” You admit quietly and massage your thighs.

Having sex while standing up is quite hard on your legs and hips. Not to mention your ass cheeks still feeling sensitive from Megumi's strong slaps, and the reddish purple marks on your neck sting a little. Megumi got off without a scratch as he fucked you from behind, so you couldn't even claw his back in return.

“Promise I’ll look after you today,” he kisses your lips, speaking softly. “Mm” you mumble and smile up at him. “I was so fucking horny all day yesterday, was driving me crazy. You're just so…” he groans and squeezes your waist, “so sexy… you get me so hot.”

“Was I too rough yesterday?” He asks, looking concerned. You turn around and lift up his black jumper, revealing your round ass. Megumi breathes in sharply “Shit… I'm sorry, I really hurt you, didn’t I?” He says worriedly.

“It feels so good though, Megumi… and I asked you to” you look round at him as he gently strokes your bruised ass.

He looks absolutely pitiful as he stares at you. He sighs as he pulls his jumper back over you, turning you to face him.

He brushes your hair behind your ear as he moves closer to examine your neck. His long, delicate fingers trace over the love bites he gave you last night. Megumi winces, “Oh baby…” he whispers in disbelief as he kisses you softly.

You feel his long eyelashes and warm breath on your sensitive skin as you let out a sigh. “I need to hold back a bit.” He looks into your eyes sternly.

“No, I like you how you are. You make me feel so good.” You shake your head and smile, looking up at him innocently. “I'm sure I can make you feel good without leaving these marks all over you…” he kisses and strokes you like he's trying to make the bruises disappear. “I want you to leave marks on me…” you whine, “so everyone can see…” you look up at him with big eyes.

Megumi's eyes widen as his grip tightens around your slim waist. “Fuck…” he breathes over your lips. You can feel his cock bulging through his boxers.

“You sure?” He asks as you nod in reply, “Wouldn’t want it any other way,” you bat your eyelids at him and smile softly. He pulls you into a passionate kiss as you rub up against him. Your hands snake up his shirt, feeling his hard abs and chest, stroking gently down the v line to his crotch.

He pulls away suddenly, “Baby, please, I can’t fuck you again now…” he groans, “I, I won't be able to control myself… I'm afraid I'll hurt you again…” he whines a little, his eyebrows raised.

“Don't fuck me then,” you reply simply. Your fingers snake under his waistband as you stroke his hard cock, pushing him gently against the kitchen counter. He moans and bends down over you, submitting his body to you, too horny to resist.

You pump him gently and push his boxers down. “Bite on this,” you tell him, holding his t-shirt up to his lips. He surprisingly obeys and opens his mouth, closing his sharp teeth over the cloth.

Maybe he's allowing you to do this to him to make up for last night. You kiss his exposed chest and work your way down, licking and sucking on his firm abs and pointy hips as his long fingers tangle in your hair.

You kneel down in front of him, still massaging his dick, and lick up the inside of his thigh. Your lips hover over his bulging cock, your breath making him twitch. You look up and make eye contact with him, asking for permission. He gently presses you closer, allowing you to lick his tip, swirling his precum around.

This earns you a deep groan as he grips your hair tighter. You suck the end of his cock like a lollipop, then let him pop out of your mouth. “Megumi…” you look up at him and pull his jumper off over your head, leaving you naked kneeling in front of him once again.

He groans again, still holding his t-shirt in his mouth. “Would you like me to suck you, Megumi?” You ask sweetly as you breathe over his bulging cock. His eyes are hazy with lust as he looks down at you. “You want your cock in my mouth?” You tease him a little more.

“Uh huh” he manages to mumble with his teeth gripping his shirt. “You look so hot like this, Megumi, makes me crazy…” you moan and close your mouth around his cock.

Megumi looks like he's run out of patience and you don't want to push your luck too far. You suck on his thick shaft and moan over him, looking up and enjoying the view of his muscular body.

Megumi gently grinds his hips against you, pushing himself in deeper. He moans as he bites his t-shirt harder, “Mmhhn… baby…” he mumbles through the wet fabric.

He pushes down your throat harder making you choke a little. You pull away and massage his cock with your soft hands, needing to use both to pump his length fully. “Stay still, ok,” you mutter, pushing him against the counter. “Will you behave and let me suck you?” You ask, wondering if you'll get away with this.

He looks so strained, trying to resist the strong urge to pin you down and fuck you. He nods slowly, “Mm, ‘m trying…” he moans through his shirt.

His voice is so sexy you can't resist, taking him deep into your throat. He stays perfectly still as you gag on him and massage his balls gently with your soft hands. “Fuck…” He moans as you take him all the way down.

He moans as his mouth hangs open, making his shirt drop. You whine over his cock, pushing the material back up again. He rips it off, your hand immediately finding his hard abs. You look up and make eye contact as he pushes your hair away from your face.

He slowly starts moving his hips again as he edges closer and closer to his release. “Mmhh… so close, princess… feels so good” he moans and looks down at you. You hum over his cock and take him all in, gagging and tearing up.

He grunts and growls, letting out a string of expletives as he loses control of his hips, his head rolling back as he fucks into your mouth. He tries to pull out but you grip him so tight and continue sucking him until he's fucking his cum down your throat.

“Fuck!” He screams as you swallow his hot ropes, licking up every last drop. He pants and breathes heavily, his pale face flushed pink, “So fucking good at that, princess-”

He leans against the kitchen counter as you lick him clean. He bends over and pulls you up, squeezing your naked body tightly to his.

“So, I cover you in bruises and fuck you so hard that you can't sit down or walk comfortably…” he gently strokes your ass, “and I somehow get rewarded for that behaviour?” He asks, looking confused.

“Yes.” You reply with a giggle, “I love how you fuck me, Megumi.” You smile up at his stunned face. He lets out a breathy chuckle and holds you close.

You get dressed and heat up the stew Megumi was making earlier. You eat together then take a long shower, getting dressed in Megumi’s clothes as he just wears boxers.

He stretches over the sofa as you lay on top of him, resting your head on his chest and stroking his shoulders. You feel his chest gently rising and falling, feeling his warm breath on your face.

[masterlist]

bonus chapters

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fluff #megumi smut #female reader #megumi x you

620 notes · View notes

gullemec · 19 days ago

Text

Red Underlined

Golden Cage - Chapter Six

series masterlist ao3

Pairing: Billy Butcher x f!reader

Summary: You confront the aftermath of your night with Butcher and your father hosts a rather interesting dinner party.

Warnings: angst, language, butcher being emotionally constipated and a dick about it, discussion of sex, discussion of grief, daddy issues galore, discussion of death/murder, reader has an emotional breakdown, discussion of suicide (not reader), sexual tension, Homelander is a creep, unwanted touching (from Homelander)

Please let me know if I missed any TWs <3

WC: 7.8k

A/N: Lots of emotional constipation and angst and daddy issues here, proceed with caution! Also Homelander makes an appearance and is such a nasty creep so beware of that too.

This time when you wake, it's with a start. No warm embrace, no welcome weight tethering you, just the cold shock of reality rousing you from a fleeting dream. Your heart thuds as your half-awake brain searches the room.

Butcher sits across from you, perched in the room’s stiff wingback chair, his silhouette outlined by the pale dawn light. He’s fully dressed, boots planted firmly on the floor, arms crossed like he’s preparing for a battle.

“Butch?” Your voice comes out groggy, uncertain. He doesn’t look at you. “What are you doing?”

“Get dressed,” he says, flat and clipped.

You blink at him, confusion prickling under your skin. Yesterday’s clothes are scattered around the room, discarded in the heat of passion. Gathering them, you can’t help but notice how he averts his eyes, a rare show of decorum. But his body is stiff, his expression locked in that impenetrable mask.

Does he regret it?

The thought coils in your gut like a snake, equal parts hurt and fury. You’ve had enough of his hot-and-cold act, especially after the mind-blowing sex you'd shared just hours earlier.

By the time you’ve dressed, the tension in the room feels suffocating. Without another word, he leads you out to the waiting van.

He may be older than most of the guys you usually sleep with, but his maturity level might actually rank below theirs.

The silence on the highway is unbearable, the minutes dragging like hours. You stare at him, his profile rigid as he grips the wheel, his jaw tight. Finally, you snap.

“Look, I’m not doing this,” you begin. “I'm not subjecting myself to another awkward car ride, so you'd better come right out and tell me now if you regret last night.”

He exhales hard through his nose, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel.

“I don't,” he says, after what feels like an eternity.

“You don't what?” you push, unwilling to let him off the hook.

His lips press into a thin line, the struggle playing out across his face as he tries and fails to find the right words.

“I don't regret it. At all. Last night was one of the best nights of my fucking life, all right?”

Your heart skips, but the relief is short-lived.

“But it was a mistake,” he continues, voice low. “We shouldn’t have done it.”

The sting of rejection hits you like a slap. “Why not? Because you suddenly grew a conscience?”

“Listen, love, you're young. You got a future ahead of you. I'm too damn old for you. I’ve got more baggage than Heathrow, and none of it’s carry-on.”

“You think I care about that?” you fire back, your voice rising. “You think I don’t know who you are by now?”

“It’s not just that,” he says, cutting you off. “This job? This life? It’s dangerous. You don’t have room for emotional ties if you want to survive it.”

“Who said anything about emotional ties?” you retort, even as your chest tightens. You could play it cool. Maybe the two of you could be purely physical, using the kinetic energy you share for sexual release alone. Sure, you'd be betraying the growing sentiment you'd developed toward the abrasive man, settling for his physical affection alone if he truly couldn't find it in him to serve you emotionally, but at least you'd have some shred of him to keep for yourself.

But the way he shakes his head tells you it’s not an option.

“You deserve more than that,” he says firmly, eyes fixed on the road.

You scoff, anger bubbling up. “That’s rich, coming from you. You certainly weren't saying that last night when your dick was—”

“You think I don't want to be able to give you that?” His voice is raw, startling in its honesty.

The fight leaves you for a moment, the truth of his words sinking in. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t let you see the cracks in his armor.

“You’re gonna meet someone,” he says, quieter now. “Someone who can give you the life you deserve. Someone who doesn’t drag you into this mess. Someone better.”

You scoff, hurt quickly turning to anger. “That’s bullshit,” you snap, your voice trembling. “Don’t pretend you know what I want, Butcher. You think I’ve got some perfect life waiting for me? Have I ever given you any reason to think I want anything more than being a part of the Boys? You think I don’t know exactly what I’m signing up for?”

He says your name, gently, like a prayer, finally turning to look at you.

“Listen to me,” you tell him. “This is the most alive I've felt since my mom died. For the first time in my life I feel like I'm really making her proud. And I'll be damned if you get to decide what my future looks like.”

He finally turns to look at you, his hazel eyes softening. “Of course you get to decide what you want, if that means working with us. But you deserve to be happy, love. And I can’t give you that. I’m sorry.”

The apology hangs heavy between you, cutting deeper than you’d expected. You turn away, staring out the window as your eyes sting. You won’t cry. Not here. Not in front of him.. He cannot know the deadliness of the blow he has so casually dealt you.

“Thanks for being honest, I guess,” you say quietly, your voice brittle.

The silence stretches, thick with unspoken words. Finally, Butcher clears his throat. “I get it if you don’t want anything to do with me after this. MM and Frenchie can take over—”

For an angry, petulant moment you want to agree, to let your hurt be known. But it's not what you want, not even close. As much as the sting of rejection smarts right now, complete separation from him would hurt even more.

“No,” you interrupt, the word sharper than you intended. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

A part of you does feel relief, knowing that you would have fallen into bed with him regardless of his true feelings for you. Your bones and atoms had screamed at you incessantly to crash your very being against his, and you had fulfilled that request. Maybe you could let go of this preoccupation now.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The road hums beneath the tires, the tension easing just enough for you to breathe.

“It was just a one time thing,” you offer, the words tasting like ash in your mouth.

He nods, too quickly. “Purely physical,” he agrees.

“Right. No one has to know,” you assert.

Probably for the best. It was bad enough that everyone at your internship thought you only got the position because of your father, you didn't need the others in the Boys thinking you were only there because you were fucking their boss.

Still, he holds your gaze, shoulders tense, only tossing a glance toward the road when absolutely necessary. He's assessing you for truthfulness, picking up on the smallest tells in your voice that you're not as casual about this as you'd like him to think.

You hesitate for a moment.

“It was really good, though,” you admit.

And, like a dam, his cool facade releases, posture softening. “It was really fucking good,” be agrees enthusiastically.

“Like, so good,” you repeat.

You both laugh.

Fuck.

~~~

For your entire life, family dinner has been a fortnightly tradition.

There is a salient moment in your childhood memory; your parents, tucked away in some corner of the house they thought you wouldn't detect, voices raised in frustration. Your father, increasingly away from home, was missing out on your childhood. Your mother, desperate to keep your life as stable as possible, begging him to change. Despite his philandering ways, there was a love there between your parents, at least once upon a time. And thus a compromise was reached and the family dinner tradition was born.

Of course, CytoGenix duty called from time to time and family dinner was deemed of lower priority, leaving you and your mother to dine alone, huddled at the end of the ten-seater dining table. Then there were the four years you spent studying abroad, missed dinners you had no idea would be your mother’s last. Still, family dinner had been an honored tradition for the most part.

And when you were bedridden, steeped in grief and disbelief, it was your father's suggestion that you restart the tradition. It was the only thing that roused you from that dark numbness. For a couple of months there it was good. Just you and dad, navigating the fog together, united in your heartbreak.

That was, until he announced there would be a guest joining you at dinner one night. You had assumed an aunt or distant cousin, some estranged family member who’d made their way through the woodwork upon hearing the news of your mother’s untimely passing. That pretense fell away the moment Monica strolled into the dining room, dressed for Paris fashion week. You’d held a polite smile, asked polite questions, and offered polite answers to the rare, offhand question she threw your way. It was at one of these fortnightly dinners that Monica and your father, hands grasped together tightly, announced they were getting married. It was harder this time to offer a polite congratulations, forcing a pained smile until you could excuse yourself to sob in the privacy of the bathroom.

And no, you didn’t go to the wedding.

It’s in that enormous dining room that you sit now, pushing a charred brussel sprout around on your plate.

“You know, sweetie, you have such a glow about you lately,” Monica coos from across the table. Her tone is all honey, but her eyes hold the sharpness of a blade. You resist the urge to roll your eyes anytime Monica uses terms of endearment toward you, as if her saccharine words could disguise the fact that she’s closer to your age than to her sexagenarian husband.

Still, you flush at implication. Is there a blinking sign floating over your head that reads I just got fucked so hard I saw stars, ask me about it?

“I’ve been getting out more lately,” you offer instead of the expletive laced response you really want to say.

“I’ve noticed,” your father says, his tone carrying more irritation than interest. “I’ve also noticed you’ve been taking a lot of personal days at the office.”

He's not wrong. Ever since the day you’d woken up in the basement of the laundromat and had your entire world turned on its axis, something profound had shifted. Discovering that Vought—and by extension CytoGenix, too—likely bear responsibility for your mother’s death has a way of making intern projects feel laughably small. You figure that Adam and Emily have the menial lab experiments covered in your absence.

Your father sets his knife down deliberately, licking his teeth before speaking. “I want you to take this seriously,” he says, his voice cool but weighty. “This isn’t just an internship—it’s the family name we’re talking about.”

Something about the scrape of Monica’s knife on the china grates on you, or maybe it’s the way you fucking hate brussel sprouts. Maybe it's your father's condescending tone and the fact that the family name has only ever brought you pain and misery. Perhaps it's the fact that all of you sitting here together now is a bastardization of a tradition your mother created in hopes that you'd have some semblance of a normal childhood.

“What about me, though?” The words spill out before you can stop them. “What about what I want?”

The room falls still. Monica freezes mid-cut, her fork hovering. Even you’re surprised at the sharpness in your own voice.

“Maybe you forgot, since you didn’t bother showing up to my graduation, but I majored in biology, not pharmacology or business. I never wanted to come back here, let alone do this internship. So excuse me if I miss a few days here and there, okay?”

The heat of your anger makes your face flush, sweat prickling at your spine. Across the table, Monica blinks, her expression unreadable. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she almost looked impressed.

But your father doesn’t yell, doesn’t slam his fists on the table like he did when you were younger. Instead, he does something that is perhaps even worse. He dismisses you, a loose hand wave and unaffected expression rendering your impassioned cry moot. The calm, detached response somehow cuts even deeper.

“Nonsense,” he says coolly. “Someone needs to take over the family business when I go, and if you ask my cardiologist he'll tell you that day isn't too far off.”

“Baby, don’t talk like that!” Monica gasps, her performative worry grating on your nerves. She turns to you. “Your dad’s been overseeing testing on a new heart medication in the labs—which you’d know if you bothered to show up.”

You zone out completely as the two of them bicker back and forth, about your father's health, about your insolence, and then eventually about frothy gossip they'd overheard during their recent outing to Le Bernardin.

Your mind drifts.

What do you want? You’d chosen biology at Cambridge as a compromise, a way to avoid outright rebellion against your father’s wishes. Your mother used to tell you to go after what set your heart on fire, to never settle for anything that didn’t light you up inside. She always spoke as if your success was inevitable, like there was no version of reality where you wouldn’t do something extraordinary.

Only, maybe she'd never considered a reality in which her advice and listening ear no longer existed, where her very absence snuffed out that spark entirely.

What would she say about the Boys, about Butcher? She was a sensible lady, and classy, so it probably would have taken her some time to warm up to the idea of you cavorting around with a crew of vigilantes. Still, you want to believe that she would see the spirit with which you speak about them, the way you feel a million times more purpose scheming and spying in a dingy, dimly lit basement than you ever did sitting in a cubicle reading lab reports. You imagine her reaction to Butcher, her mother's instinct warning you to guard your feelings, and her inability to deny that you were glowing.

You're pulled from your daydream when your ears perk up at something Monica says. “Sorry, what was that?” You ask.

She examines you for a moment. “I said that production has been set back for a special product we've been making for Vought. There was an… unfortunate accident.” She spears her steak, her gaze dropping. “Ashley’s furious. They’re demanding a meeting.”

This time Monica is on the receiving end of your father's casual dismissal as he waves her off like a gnat. “I already spoke to her. Told her they can come to dinner at the Lakehouse. We’ll pour them some wine, ease the blow.”

Monica sets her jaw on edge. “It's going to take a lot of wine for this to go down smoothly, darling,” she says curtly. Her tone lowers. “The losses were huge, it's going to take years and billions to recoup—”

Your effort not to smile is Herculean.

Then your father’s voice cuts through. “I want you there,” he says.

You blink. “Me? Why?”

“You need to start familiarizing yourself with Vought if you’re going to take over. Think of it as a lesson in conflict resolution.” He chuckles, ignoring Monica’s pointed glare.

And, to everyone's surprise, you don't argue this. “Okay, I'll be there.” Your mind swirls with all the ways you can take advantage of this opportunity.

You choke down the last brussel sprout before bouncing up, giving your dad a kiss on the cheek before you leave.

“See? I told you she'd come around,” you hear him say before the door shuts behind you.

~~~

You don’t bother going home after dinner. Instead, you head straight for the laundromat, the adrenaline from your dinner revelation buzzing in your veins.

The basement is alive with chatter as you burst through the door. MM, Hughie, Kimiko, and Frenchie greet you with a chorus of smiles and hellos, their faces lighting up at your excitement.

Butcher, on the other hand, freezes. He bolts upright from the couch as if you’d hit him with a stun gun, his wide eyes darting over your face. For a moment, it looks like he might say something, but his mouth clamps shut before finally settling on an awkward wave before returning to his usual seat on the couch. The others glance at him, puzzled by his bizarre reaction, but say nothing.

You don’t entirely blame him. It's the first time you've seen each other in the week since you slept together. The memory lingers sharper than you’d like to admit. The rest of the car ride home had passed in companionable conversation, punctuated by argument every time you wanted to pull over to take a picture of a cool looking tree or pretty sunset. By the time you pulled up in front of your apartment you were dead tired, asleep on your feet. But just as you turned to leave, Butcher squeezed your hand. “Be safe, alright?” he'd said, and you told him you would be.

You thought about him that night when you touched yourself, something you've been making a bad habit of lately. You wondered if he might have been doing the same.

None of that matters now. You’re here for a mission.

“I’ve got a lead,” you announce, diving into an explanation of the upcoming dinner and its potential as a goldmine for intel. Everyone is receptive, earning you a back pat from MM and a good job, ma poupette from Frenchie. You can't deny the way their praise feels like sunlight on your face.

Hughie chimes in. “You should wear a wire. We’ll be outside in the van, listening in. If anything goes sideways, we’ll be ready.”

You nod, reassured by the thought of their backup. Soon, they’re deep into planning—locations, entry and exit points, contingencies. You hang back, content to watch them work.

That’s when Butcher sidles up beside you.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks, voice low. “Privately.”

Your pulse quickens as you nod and follow him into a side room. He shuts the door behind you, and the air between you feels suddenly charged. You're embarrassed by how flustered you feel just by being so close to him again, like your body knows his and reacts involuntarily at the proximity. Your cheeks flush as you draw your eyes up to meet his, putting effort into controlling your breath. Did he want to discuss what happened again? Did he change his mind about this physical element of your relationship? Did he pull you into this room because he absolutely could not wait a second longer to tear your clothes off and have you again, right here, right now?

He interrupts your spiraling thoughts by pulling a manila envelope from his trench coat and shoving it into your hands.

“What’s this?” you ask, confused.

“Your mum’s autopsy report. The unredacted version,” he says, his voice unusually soft. “Had it smuggled out of Vought Tower.”

Your breath catches. You grip the envelope, your excitement from earlier replaced by a rising wave of guilt. How had you let yourself become so wrapped up in your feelings for him that you’d lost sight of why you were working together in the first place?

You start to pull the papers out, but his hand covers yours, stopping you.

“I’m warning you,” he says. “It’s not good.”

You nod, swallowing hard.

The words on the pages blur together at first, dense medical jargon making your head spin. Some of it is familiar, pulled from the sanitized version Vought had given you. But there are new phrases here, ones that jump out like knives.

Internal injuries consistent with a traumatic car accident or fall from a great height.

No external injuries noted.

Partial exsanguination.

You shake your head. None of this makes sense. You were told that your mother was found in her apartment, like having fallen and slipped in the shower. You didn't have to be a medical examiner to know that a person wouldn't have such catastrophic injuries from a slip, couldn't bleed to death from a wound with no external injury.

Your hands tremble as you flip to the final page, one you'd examined at length in the past. Your eyes fall to the Cause of Death header. As before, you see ‘accidental’ written beneath it. Except next to it, previously obscured by a thick, black redacting line, you find two letters. SR.

“SR?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Butcher grimaces. “Supe-related. It means a Supe killed your mum.”

You suspected it, readied yourself for it, stayed up late at night agonizing about it. Yet, with the evidence in your hands now, finally real, you begin to tremble. There was no running from the fact that your mother had suffered, that she had been afraid in her last moments. What did she think when the Supe showed up at her apartment? Had she begged for her life? Had your father and Monica contracted with Vought to get your mother out of the picture?

Your legs give out beneath you, vision swimming. Before you meet the ground, strong arms catch you, wrapping around you. You're enveloped in Butcher's arms as he gently guides you both to the floor, pulling you in tighter as you rest against the wall. Your lungs heave in great, powerful bursts, awful croaking sobs escaping from deep inside you. You sob in the same way you did on the night you received the life-altering news, unabashed and involuntarily. Butcher says nothing as he rocks you back and forth, a large hand running up and down your back. He lets you get it all out, like he's been here, like he knows this pain all too well. When the sobs subside and your breathing steadies, he helps you to your feet, his hands lingering just long enough to ensure you’re steady. You wipe your eyes and manage a grateful glance, knowing that speaking would only unleash another torrent of tears.

Butcher steps back slightly, his hand lingering on your shoulder as if anchoring you to the moment. His face softens, guarded but undeniably tender. He clears his throat, glancing away before meeting your eyes again.

“I know what it’s like, you know,” he says, voice quieter than you’re used to. “To lose someone and not have the answers. To lie awake at night, over and over, trying to piece together the truth that everyone else seems happy to bury.”

You blink, surprised by his tone. “You’re talking about Becca?”

He shakes his head. “Not just Becca. My brother, Lenny.”

The name hangs in the air like a heavy weight. He exhales sharply, as though it physically pains him to say it.

“Lenny was... different from me,” he continues, the rough edge in his voice softening further. “He wasn’t like this.” He gestures vaguely at himself, the trench coat, the scowl, the hardened demeanor. “He was the better one. Gentle, kind. Always trying to keep me in line. He was... the only good thing left in my life, for a long time.”

You stay quiet, the gravity in his voice pulling you in.

“But I couldn’t protect him.” His jaw clenches, his hands curling into fists. “He was dealing with his own demons, and I was too blind, too wrapped up in my own shit, to see what he needed. He...” Butcher’s voice falters, his words cracking. “He didn’t make it. Took his own life. And I’ve spent every day since wonderin’ if I could’ve stopped it, if I could’ve done somethin’ different.”

You reach out instinctively, your hand brushing against his arm, offering the same silent comfort he’d given you earlier.

“That’s why I’m telling you,” he says, looking at you with a rare vulnerability, his eyes sharp and glassy. “Whatever it takes, we’re going to get the bastard who did this to your mum. You’ve got my word. I’m not gonna let you go through this alone. Not like I did.”

His words ignite something deep inside you, a mixture of gratitude, determination, and pain. You nod, your voice unsteady but resolute. “We’ll get them. Together.”

Butcher’s lips twitch, almost forming a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, he nods, the unspoken understanding between you solidifying like steel.

“Just promise me,” he adds, his voice rough again, “you don’t lose yourself in this. Revenge is a funny thing. It takes more than it gives. Trust me, I know.”

You swallow hard, hearing the weight of his warning but knowing, in your heart, that this path is the only one you can take.

“I’ll try,” you say, though you’re not sure if it’s a promise you can keep.

Butcher seems to hear it in your voice but doesn’t push. Instead, he straightens, his usual stoicism returning. “Get some rest,” he says, pulling his trench coat tighter around himself. “Big day tomorrow.”

As he walks toward the door, you glance at the manila envelope still clutched in your hands. The truth you’ve been searching for is finally laid bare, but it feels heavier than you ever anticipated.

Before he steps out, Butcher pauses in the doorway, turning back to look at you. For a moment, there’s something in his gaze, something soft and almost protective.

“You’re tougher than you think,” he says gruffly. “Don’t forget that.”

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with the truth and the ache of everything it means.

~~~

You're darting around your apartment in a short cotton bathrobe when three raps fall against your door in quick succession, alerting you to the arrival of Hughie and Butcher.

Thrusting the front door open, you barely greet the men before scurrying back upstairs. Dinner at the Lakehouse starts in an hour and a half. You're running late and you know it.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” you shout over your shoulder, already halfway up the stairs to your loft.

Butcher steps inside first, glancing around the expansive living room with its vaulted ceilings and tastefully expensive decor. Though he’s been here once before, briefly, you can feel the weight of his presence in the space. Hughie follows, lingering awkwardly by the door as if afraid to touch anything.

“You sure this is just yours?” Hughie asks, his voice filled with awe as he surveys the plush furniture and abstract art pieces that probably cost more than his yearly salary.

“Doesn’t look like the digs of someone in our line of work, does it?” Butcher mutters, one eyebrow cocked as he gestures toward the oversized painting above your couch.

You cringe upstairs, pausing mid-search for your shoes. Do they know the painting cost a cool twenty grand? Do they know your father didn’t even blink when you charged it to his credit card?

The size and opulence of your apartment feel like an accusation, another reminder of the gulf between your world and theirs.

Pushing the thought aside, you turn to your reflection in the mirror. The maroon dress you’ve chosen clings to you like a second skin, fabric cascading over your hips and down your thighs to lightly skim the floor. The neckline rises to your collarbones, giving the illusion of modesty. It's what happens when you turn around that's worthy of a commotion; your back is bare save for delicate straps that criss-cross your back, dipping dangerously low beneath your waist, leaving little to the imagination. You’d be lying if you said you weren't looking a little forward to seeing Butcher's reaction.

Taking a steadying breath, you smooth the silk down your sides and make your way downstairs. The clack of your heels on the wooden steps draws their attention immediately. Hughie’s head snaps up, his mouth slightly agape before he quickly averts his gaze, his cheeks flushing.

Butcher, on the other hand, doesn’t bother to look away. His eyes rake over you, unapologetic, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and something darker, something you’re afraid to name. He doesn’t speak, but his jaw tightens, and for a moment, he seems rooted in place. His eyes burn a hole through you, jaw firmly remaining on the ground. It's as though he's never seen you naked, reduced to tears by his relentless—

Get a hold of yourself.

“Wow,” Hughie stammers, standing abruptly. “Uh, you—wow, yeah, you look—”

“Thanks, Hughie,” you interrupt, sparing him further embarrassment.

He awkwardly holds up the wire and listening device, his hands trembling as he explains how it works, assuring you that you'll be safe and that they'll step in if anything goes sideways. You distantly wonder would cause this mission to go awry, and what exactly the Boys would do to help you. You nod along, your mind only half-focused on his words as he hesitates, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of threading the wire through your dress. You've grown quite comfortable around the guy, but it's hard to imagine how this couldn't be an awkward interaction. He frets, deeply uncomfortable manipulating your dress or touching your skin.

“Uh, maybe you should—” Hughie stutters, gesturing vaguely toward you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Butcher growls, snatching the wire from Hughie’s hands. “I’ll do it.”

Before you can protest, Butcher steps closer, the heat of his presence washing over you. He hands you the mic, his voice low and rough. “Stick this under your sternum.”

You do as he says, tucking it into place with trembling fingers. He takes the wire and, with surprising gentleness, pulls the side of your dress open where the straps criss-cross. His fingers brush your skin as he threads the wire through, and suddenly the air feels too thick to breathe.

His hands pause at your waist, his eyes lifting to meet yours. The smoldering intensity in his gaze steals the air from your lungs, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“This,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible as he reaches up to place the earpiece in your ear, “is so you can hear us in the van.”

His eyes read wistfulness. Yours return the favour.

The proximity, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek, sends shivers racing down your spine. You force yourself to stay still, fighting the instinct to lean into him, to close the infinitesimal distance between you. Your flesh reacts to his touch, his breath fanning on your face sending flutters down your spine. You inhale deeply, committing his warm scent to memory. It takes all your self-control not to reach out and touch his neck.

Butcher lingers a moment too long, his eyes flicking to your lips before he catches himself. He pulls back abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets as if to hide their tremble.

Hughie clears his throat loudly, snapping you both back to reality. “Uh, so... ready to go?”

Your cheeks burn as you step back, smoothing your dress and avoiding Hughie’s curious gaze. “Yeah,” you mumble, grabbing your coat and clutch. “Let’s get this over with.”

Shit. You have no idea how to explain to Hughie what the fuck just happened between you and Butcher. You have no idea how to explain to yourself what the fuck just happened between you and Butcher. He said it was a one time thing, and you had agreed. So why did it feel like neither of you really meant that now?

You don't wait around to find out. Cheeks hot, you pull on a heavy wool coat and throw your keys in a clutch, mumbling to Hughie and Butcher that your car is waiting downstairs for you, the three of you hurrying out of the apartment.

Your heart is racing, your cool utterly lost, and you haven't even started the mission yet.

~~~

The Lakehouse is hardly a house at all. Perched on eight sprawling acres of pristine waterfront property, the six-bedroom estate is more like a luxury resort. It boasts a private beach, a boathouse, a fully staffed kitchen, and amenities that wouldn’t be out of place in a five-star hotel. This was supposed to be your childhood home, a place where your family would gather to escape the chaos of the city. But, of course, your father’s relentless ambition had other plans. Weekdays in the city turned into every week in the city, and the Lakehouse became little more than a backdrop for corporate schmoozing and high-stakes dealmaking.

You’ve only been here once since moving back, and that visit had been for a similarly uncomfortable dinner with grumpy shareholders. That’s how it works with your father. When he invites someone to the Lakehouse, it means he’s either wooing them or trying to quell a crisis. Tonight, it’s the latter.

The heated marble floors feel too smooth under your heels as you drift through the dark wood-paneled corridors, a ghost in your father’s world. The hum of conversation grows louder as you approach the atrium, a cavernous space filled with old money charm and new money ambition. When you step inside, the low murmur of voices barely shifts.

Your father, however, notices immediately. His face lights up as he strides over, announcing your presence to the room with an enthusiasm that feels both practiced and performative. You’re greeted with nods and distracted glances from the scattered groups of investors, politicians, and Vought executives who occupy the space.

You paste on a polite smile and glide into the crowd, the maroon silk of your dress flowing like water around your frame. The fabric clings in all the right places, and you’re acutely aware of how much the dress is working in your favor tonight. You flit from one conversation to the next, exchanging hollow pleasantries with anyone willing to give you the time of day.

“Yes, I’m his daughter.”“No, I don’t work for CytoGenix yet, just shadowing.”“Of course, I’m honored to follow in his footsteps.”

You parrot the answers you know they want to hear, offering carefully crafted tidbits about your life in exchange for half-hearted words of encouragement or patronizing nods.

“So,” one executive asks, swirling his glass of whiskey, “you’ll be running CytoGenix one day, huh?”

You want to tell him you’d rather set the place on fire and dance on the ashes. Instead, you laugh, a soft, practiced sound, and offer some noncommittal response that earns an approving chuckle.

After thirty agonizing minutes, you can’t take it anymore. Your smile feels brittle, your cheeks sore from holding it in place. Excusing yourself with a vague promise to freshen up, you slip out of the atrium and into the cool night air.

The back terrace is wide and expansive, the kind of place meant for grand parties or quiet reflection. Tonight, it acts as your refuge. You pull your heavy coat tighter around your shoulders as you step to the edge, your heels clicking softly against the stone.

The view is breathtaking. The lake stretches out before you, the surface calm and glassy, reflecting the fiery reds and burnt oranges of the setting sun. The horizon blurs in the distance, where the vibrant sky meets the still water. The crisp fall air fills your lungs, sharp and invigorating, cutting through the lingering tension from the evening.

For a moment, you let yourself exhale fully, allowing the facade to fall away. Out here, there are no prying eyes, no hollow pleasantries, no suffocating expectations. Just the quiet lap of water against the shore and the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze.

You grip the stone railing and gaze out at the horizon, wondering if this is what your father feels when he’s here, if he ever lets himself feel anything at all. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you’re only here for one reason: to play your part. But the thought lingers like a shadow, just out of reach, as the sun dips below the horizon and the lake fades into twilight.

Your serenity is interrupted when the terrace door opens with a creak. You swear under your breath at the unwelcome intrusion.

“Hey there sweetheart,” a voice beckons out behind you. Instead of the warmth you’d normally feel at this kind of greeting, you find the hair at the back of your neck standing on end, unsettled to your core. Your stomach tightens, and you hear Butcher’s muttered curse in your earpiece.

You turn, finding Homelander closing the door behind him, joining you on the balcony.

“Homelander.” You turn, keeping your tone neutral, but your heart beats louder in your chest. "Enjoying the evening?"

He steps onto the balcony, closing the door behind him, his gaze tracing you with that predatory intensity that sends a ripple of discomfort through your veins. “Indeed I am.” He eyes you up and down, slow and deliberate, his words syrupy and laced with an unsettling warmth. “Enjoying the view even more.”

“Fuckin' prick,” Butcher growls under his breath through the earpiece.

You offer a strained smile, your pulse quickening despite yourself. “The lake’s amazing this time of year,” you say, grasping at the first thing that pops into your mind, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.

Homelander takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Not as incredible as you,” he says with a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His hand rests on your waist, and you recoil instinctively, every nerve in your body screaming to move, to get away. “You’re something special, you know that?” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping, “I’ve had my eye on you all night.”

A burst of anger flashes in Butcher’s voice. “I’m gonna kill him,” he hisses, but you can hear the strain in his words—he knows he can’t act just yet.

You swallow. Despite your knowledge of who he is, what he is capable of, you're not immune to his charisma. The quasi-genuine emotion in his voice is almost believable, bombarding your defenses. You stiffen against him, clutching onto the balcony railing like it might save you.

Your stomach churns as Homelander's fingers curl possessively around your waist. Your muscles stiffen, but you stand your ground, ignoring the dread welling inside you. “I was just heading back inside,” you mutter, the tension radiating from your body palpable. You try to sidestep, but his hand snaps out, gripping your wrist in an iron hold, pulling you back toward him.

“No need for that, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice low, with a dangerous edge. “Don’t tell me those perky tits and round ass are gonna go to waste.”

“Enough, I'm going in,” Butcher's voice cracks through your earpiece, barely holding back the fury in his words. “No!” Hughie chirps, eliciting jumbled groans from Butcher. If he thinks he's disgusted listening to it, he should try hearing it spoken directly into his ear.

You press your palm to the cool railing, feeling the weight of his gaze on you, the air thick with tension. You take stock of the situation, calculating your next move. The terrace is isolated, the fall air too cool for the partygoers inside. No one would hear you if you screamed right now. Still, your proximity to the party would prevent Homelander from doing anything too egregious. He may be sociopathic and narcissistic, but he's not stupid. He can't hurt you, at least not right now.

Your mind races as you swallow the vile words bubbling up. It’s your turn now. You meet his gaze head-on, your voice barely shaking. “Back off, asshole,” you say, each word dragging itself from your throat with the kind of anger you’ve been keeping locked inside for months. “Step the fuck off.”

The world feels suspended for a heartbeat, and then another. You brace yourself for whatever comes next—the snap of your wrist, the rush of air as he lifts you into the sky—but all you hear is his shallow, ragged breath. He doesn’t move.

To your utter shock, he lets go of you. Only his hand remains, grasped around your wrist. You turn to face him.

You feel the anger roll off of him in waves, concentrated and palpable. You fight to keep your breathing even as you contend with the electricity falling off of him, a live wire spinning out behind you.

“You know who my father is,” you state, voice calm and even once again. “You don't want to do this.”

“That fuckin’ bastard is getting a bullet—”

His face falls, menacing energy leaking out of him. You feel the malicious energy exuding from his very being, every nerve in his body wanting to hurt you in this very moment, the barest thread tying him to reality.

Please, you think. Give Butcher a reason to run in here. Let him save me.

He holds onto you, fist tightening around your wrist painfully. He gazes up at you, unnaturally blue eyes pleading.

“I'm going in. I don't fucking care I’m going,” Butcher crackles into your ear.

“Stop,” you say, simultaneously to Butcher and Homelander. “Just walk away.”

For a moment, the tension is unbearable. But then, to your shock, both men stand back. Butcher's voice fades from within your ear. Homelander takes a step backward, though it’s not out of mercy, but rather a calculation. A predator retreating from its cunning prey. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t reach for you again.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, his voice almost too smooth. He turns away from you with a languid motion, desperately trying to coax his boner away.

You swallow the bile rising in your throat and steel yourself. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

You stare up at him, daring him to act up even a little bit. His eyes are lifeless, shark-like. He doesn't move.

His smile is a razor. “Sure.”

You take a breath, then turn, letting the distance grow between you. “I really need to get back to my dad,” you mutter, your voice almost too casual as you slip past him and back inside.

You slip back inside, the warmth of the party pressing against you. Your footfalls echo against the wood panelled walls, softening the jagged edges of your inhaled breaths. You pause for a second, ensuring he isn't following you, before ducking back into the dinner party.

~~~

Dinner is served: Filet mignon, perfectly seared, accompanied by a side of Catalonian salad.

It takes all of your energy not to tear into the meal, desperately trying to recall your brief time spent at finishing school in your teens. An array of assorted cutlery borders your meal; you select what you hope to god is the correct fork.

The minutes stretch on in blessed silence, the clink of cutlery and soft murmurs as everyone devours the fresh seafood. Cloth napkins flutter delicately to dab at dribbles of butter staining chins.

“A toast,” Ashley says, cutting through the meal’s quiet indulgence. “I'd like to extend Vought's gratitude toward the Morgans tonight for this lovely get together,” she raises her wine glass, all of the partygoers offering theirs up in the toast. She raises her glass in a practiced gesture, and everyone follows suit, toasting dutifully before draining their drinks.

When she speaks again her expression is serious. “But,” she continues, her tone now sharp, “I'd like to discuss the status of V2. After the recent attack, our shareholders are understandably concerned.”

Monica stands from the table, patronizing smile plastered on her face. “Ashley,” she begins, flashing a disingenuous smile, “We so appreciate your condolences on CytoGenix’s recent loss of two beloved security guards. May they rest in peace.” Her hand presses to her chest in exaggerated grief, screwing her eyes shut in mock sincerity.

You scoff quietly, wondering how someone so transparent in their deceit made it this far in the industry. How did your father fall for her when your mother was right there?

She continues. “What happened was a freak accident. V2 remains a well-guarded secret. We can assure you that CytoGenix is fast at work replacing all of the destroyed product.”

The room erupts into hushed murmurs, sidelong glances communicating dissatisfaction with Monica's response. She's trying desperately to downplay what happened, what you did, and she's failing miserably.

“Monica, as an executive at both Vought and CytoGenix, I'm a little concerned about your nonchalance. Are you not concerned about the loss of 13 billion dollars in profits here?” Ashley’s voice is measured but biting, her sharp gaze trained on Monica without faltering.

Monica's face falls ever so slightly. It's barely perceptible, but you notice the infinitesimal twitch in her smile, the twinkle dying in her eyes. The energy in the room shifts as the din of cutlery and small talk silence. The two women stare each other down. Electric tension crackles around the room.

Then, the squeak of a chair as it’s pushed back snaps you from your thoughts. You’re caught off guard when your father rises from his seat, one hand raised in an almost theatrically calm gesture.

“Ladies, please,” he says, a placating smile on his face. “I am willing to put my name and reputation on the line here to tell all of you,” he makes a sweeping gesture to the room, “CytoGenix is committed to ensuring favorable outcomes for everyone sitting at this table. I have taken on the responsibility of guarding the remaining vials myself. The future of V2 rests under my watchful eye.” His chest erupts in a hearty chuckle, as though it was silly that anyone doubted his company's ability to make money. A laugh that threatened danger if it was not met with a positive response.

As if on cue, everyone devolves into soft laughter, like the room itself has exhaled collectively. Stanley Morgan, ever the consummate politician. Ability to command a room unmatched, he basks in the light chatter of the relieved guests.

Sometimes your father's power scares you. Times like right now.

You find an excuse to leave once dinner is finished, feigning sleepiness to avoid being dragged into the inevitable dessert round with the insufferable business crowd. As you pull on your coat, your father crosses the room and gives you a quick, almost absent hug. He presses a kiss to your hairline, the gesture so fleeting, so routine, but for a moment, you feel a flicker of something you can’t quite place.

“Stay safe, kiddo. I love you,” he says, and for a moment you forget. So you pretend.

You pretend that you just had a normal weekly dinner with him and your mom, just like old times. You pretend that she's just in the other room, finishing up the whipped toppings for her favorite dessert, key lime pie. You pretend that your father always tells you that he loves you, that he doesn't save it for occasions when he's drunk and you've finally done something that makes him proud.

You hug him back. You tell him you love him too.

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