#lowkey wanted to name it that but that’s just cruel

[imaginarianisms]

1 day i will make a meta of sansa's dynamic with her metaphorical champions/suitors & how that correlates to the ashford theory (i.e sansa being betrothed to joffrey baratheon, then promised to willas tyrell, then being married to tyrion lannister, then being married to harry hardying then married to aegon vi targaryen & aurane velaryon but it is not this day. lmao. when i make that meta it'll be so over for y'all.

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

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---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[luvsupa]

004 | WAS IT REAL?

tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, ANGST, mind games, fluff (kinda), they’re both in love with each other but sukuna is stubborn, still don’t know what else to add

w.c: about 2k (sorry its lowkey short)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR SUPPORTING MEEE IM SO THANKFULLLL 🫶🏽🫶🏽 just finished my assignments so I had to post this (sorry it’s late)🙂‍↕️

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated !!

the room is filled with a suffocating silence as you lie propped against the intricately carved headboard, your legs sprawled across the bed. toji is between your thighs, hiding your lower body from sukuna’s intense gaze as he stands in the doorway. your body is on fire, not just from sukuna’s sudden appearance but from the intense orgasm you itching to release but now cruelly interrupted.

sukuna’s patience seems to be wearing thin. each beat of your heart echoes in the quiet room, a reminder that today might be the end for both you and toji. after a long pause, toji decided to pay attention to sukuna as he huffs at the fact he had to cut his time short with you. he couldn’t eat you out without you pleading another man’s name. toji rises from between your thighs, his expression a mix of defiance and amusement as he kneels, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed.

does he really want to have sex in front of sukuna? has he lost his mind?

toji’s chuckle is almost as unsettling as sukuna’s silence. he begins to undress, his black haori slipping off his shoulders to reveal a finely sculpted torso, gleaming under the dim light. the sweat on his muscles makes his physique even more enticing.

“calm y’erself,” toji coos, draping his haori over you as a shield against sukuna’s piercing gaze. “we wouldn’t want our fearsome king to see what’s mine, would we?”

sukuna still remains eerily quiet, his stillness more frightening than any of his previous outbursts. your heart swells at toji’s protective gesture, though the dread of sukuna’s silence weighs heavily on you. you and toji now lie side by side, leaning against the headboard, facing the imposing figure of sukuna.

“if you wanted to join us, ryo, you could’ve just asked,” toji teases, his tone light but laced with mockery. sukuna crosses all four of his arms, his biceps straining against his custom made kimono. his face remains a mask of indifference, amplifying the fear that his silence breeds.

the room falls back into an oppressive quiet, broken only by your rapid, uneven breathing. sukuna’s calm demeanour is far scarier than any display of anger could be. you long for him to shout or act out—absolutely anything but his silence.

then, unexpectedly, sukuna bursts into… laughter? the sound is a dark, guttural roar that shatters the silence, his mirthless humour echoing through the room. you exchange confused glances with toji, both of you bewildered by this bizarre reaction. sukuna’s laughter continues as he clutches the wooden frame of the bed for support, hysterically laughing as your heart beats faster.

his four arms clapping in a mocking applause. his cruel amusement makes you feel small, as if you’re the butt of a cruel joke that’s neither funny nor forgivable.

“ah, you truly are naive; it’s fascinating,” sukuna purrs, his voice dripping with venom as he approaches you. the unsettling praise only deepens your confusion. as you try to seek solace from toji, sukuna’s grip on your chin forces you to meet his gaze. he crouches to your level, his four red glowing eyes boring into yours as he lightly pets your head, playing with your hair in a disturbingly tender way.

“k-kuna, i’m sorry,” you stammer, your voice trembling with fear. the way he addresses you, with an almost soft expression, sends shivers down your spine. “how can a single mortal be so weak and foolish that i find myself feeling sorry for you?” he says, his words cutting deep. tears start to form, blurring your vision.

as you struggle to process his words, you realize the room’s silence grew louder. you glance to the space beside you and find that toji has vanished. panic surges through you, your breath quickening as sukuna’s dark chuckle echoes with your growing horror.

wait.

in that moment it feels as though you’ve plunged into the abyss, your entire being sinking deeper and deeper, your soul being wrenched away by an unseen force.

you open your eyes, gasping for air, and look around. the dinner?

confusion grips you as you see everyone absorbed in their meals, lost in conversation. you glance at your hands, pinching yourself and wincing at the sting, painfully aware that this is no dream.

was i daydreaming about toji? 

did sukuna ever speak to me in his room? 

your mind spins, unable to distinguish between dream and reality. you look up from where you were standing, behind toji, and meet sukuna’s gaze. his smirk is predatory, and you feel as if you’re being consumed by a dark, suffocating force.

there’s no way.

no.

sukuna’s smile stretches wider as he nods, a knowing, almost sadistic gleam in his eyes. your blood runs cold.

he’s the mastermind. he planted every disturbing thought in your head—the moments with toji, the intimate scenes, the claims of possession—all illusions, all his cruel manipulation.

he wanted to break you, to see how easily he could worm his way into your psyche, how far he could push you before you shattered, and he’s just getting started. his amusement at your torment was his twisted pleasure during dinner, with no one else to entertain him. not even yorozu, seated beside him, could distract him. but watching you, standing behind toji, your gaze almost eye fucking toji was all it took for sukuna to unleash his dark games.

you feel the heat rising in your body, and the clothes you’re wearing suddenly feel stifling. overwhelmed by embarrassment, you storm out of the dining hall, desperately trying to steady your breath as you walk down the hallway.

tears well up in your eyes as you grapple with the realization that you’re nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game, his mind games manipulating you at will.

you truly are naive it’s fascinating,

his words echo in your mind, a haunting that drives you mad. as you turn a corner, you use your hands to dab at your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. suddenly, you freeze when you spot sukuna standing right in the middle of the hallway, his presence making you jump.

“did you enjoy that dirty little fantasy?” he purrs, his tone dripping with amusement as he grips your arm, forcing you to listen to his taunting. “quite nasty of you to have those thoughts during dinner,” he teases, his face twisting into a mock-disgusted expression.

“are you in love with me?” you blurt out shakily, avoiding his gaze as you try to hold back your tears. sukuna looks taken aback by your blunt question, his eyes widening in surprise.

“how dare you ask me such a foolish question. have you bumped your head on the way here?” he retorts, his tone a mix of aggression and confusion. you wince slightly as he tightens his grip on your arm.

“you’re with yorozu, but you’ve got me on your mind. you’re afraid of love, so you’re content to love me from a distance,” you assert, watching as sukuna’s face goes from offended to intrigued. he loosens his grip on your arm, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I see what this is about,” he says, stepping closer and backing you against the wall, his enormous frame towering over you. the sheer height and intensity of his presence are overwhelming, and as he presses you against the wall as one of his large hand grips your jaw, you can barely breathe.

“you’re jealous that I’m with her and not you, aren’t you? do you wish you were in her place?”

“you’re avoiding my question—you plant these thoughts in my head so I can never be with anyone else but you,” you accuse, noticing the twitch of one of his lower eyes as both your breathings become shallow. sukuna’s face inches closer to yours, his intense eye contact and touch almost making you whimper. his lips are so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your face.

you tentatively reach up, running your fingers through his soft, pink hair. as you do, sukuna’s eyes flutter closed, a deep purr escaping his lips. he leans into your touch, his face drawing ever closer to yours, almost as if he’s going to kiss you. the sensation of his hair beneath your fingers and the closeness of his face send shivers through you, and for a moment, you realize that the king of curses is wrapped around your finger, caught in a vulnerable moment of your doing.

but then, sukuna snaps back to reality. his red eyes narrow with fury as he realizes how close he came to fully surrendering to your touch. his anger flares, and he pins both your hands above your head, slamming them against the wall with such force that you’re acutely aware of how tall and imposing he is.

“I could replace you with a snap of my fingers—you mean nothing to me,” he growls, his words slicing through you like a dagger.

“then do it,” you challenge, meeting his fiery eyes with your own defiant glare. sukuna’s eyes glint with a mix of surprise and admiration at your boldness.

“tsk, what happened to your timid behaviour?” he taunts, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. you remain silent, questioning your own sudden courage. sukuna’s grip begins to loosen as you drop your gaze in defeat, and with a frustrated storming off, he leaves you standing there, feeling both defeated.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

night falls as you and the other servants finish cleaning up the dishes and sweeping the kitchen after the guests have left. having completed your duties, you inform everyone you’re done for the day, and they bid you goodnight. as you walk down the familiar hallway, you glance up to see one of the balcony doors upstairs standing wide open. concerned that one of the servants or maids might have left it open, you quickly take a detour in the direction of the servant quarters and towards the staircase.

when you reach the balcony doors, you peek through and see a tall figure standing outside, enjoying the cool breeze and gazing up at the stars.

“toj’?” you call out, and he turns to look at you, a hint of confusion crossing his face at the nickname you’ve used.

“did you call me toj’ because the thoughts he placed in your head” he asks with a smirk, clearly having overheard your earlier conversation with sukuna. realizing that you and toji had never interacted before, you stammer an apology. he chuckles, reassuring you that it’s okay.

“how much did you hear?” you ask, closing the balcony doors behind you to give you both some privacy as you step further onto the balcony.

“everything.”

oh.

“well—”

“do you love him?” he asks bluntly, his gaze still on the stars as the question hangs between you. his sudden honesty makes you pause, staring at the night sky with him, the moonlight casting a serene glow over the garden below.

“w-when i first met him, i did. he even wanted me for himself,” you admit, watching as toji nods. “but now he tortures me—playing mind games and flaunting that other woman.”

a silence falls between you as you both take in the peaceful night. the stars twinkle brightly, and the moon hangs low, its light reflecting softly off the surrounding trees. you and toji stand there for a while, breathing in the fresh air, letting the moment stretch out, a quiet respite from the chaos of your thoughts.

“i’ve heard enough—how about you serve me and my clan?” toji finally says, breaking the silence. his bluntness catches you off guard, and you turn to him, wide-eyed.

“do you really think he’d let me leave to serve another clan—”

“when my stay is over, come with me. we’ll take you in as part of our family and treat you properly,” he offers, and the idea sounds tempting. you fidget with your fingers, considering his proposal.

“but if you prefer to stay in this hellhole, that’s up to you—”

“i’ll come with you,” you say decisively. toji’s smile widens, his scar stretching as he looks at you approvingly.

“don’t worry y’er pretty head about how you’re getting with me, I already know a plan.” 

[4unnyr0se]

Could we get an nsfw with hinata shoyo (28) 😙

❥ que linda | shoyo hinata

warnings: timeskip! hinata, brazil! hinata, fem! reader, unprotected sex, ts! hinata has a massive dick bc i said so, male masturbation, couch sex, pining, he whimpers so much you guys, hinata speaks portuguese because i said so, cunnilingus, virgin! hinata, virginity loss, he lowkey rich asf, not proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.3k

a/n: this work was loosely inspired by pin-k-ink's "mania". any plot relations are coincidental. please read her writing, it's good!

happy 28th birthday hinata!! short king

Shoyo Hinata was homesick, incredibly so. Being on a very popular Brazilian volleyball team was worth it: the beach, the sand, the fame, the paycheck. Hinata had fun; there was absolutely no doubt about it. He loved his teammates and hanging out with Oikawa on the beach but longed for Miyagi. He longed for the serene countryside. He longed for his friends who had gone on to other prospects. Sure, some of them stuck around, like Daichi and Sugawara, and he missed them too. But there was one person he missed that Hinata practically craved.

You and Hinata grew close during high school, especially during the third year. You and Yachi were co-managers of the volleyball team, and things went incredibly smoothly. Karasuno went to nationals each year until Hinata and the rest of the third year graduated. Because you were a manager, you worked with Kageyama and Hinata on their quick attacks. In contrast, Yachi worked with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi (Yachi was the only one who could handle Tsukishima’s attitude; she grew up when Kiyoko left.) Hinata loved that you were his manager because he had a little crush on you. You were one of the few people who didn’t underestimate him because of his height, nor made fun of him for not being the sharpest knife in the drawer. He would often stare at you for extended periods as you gave the beginning-of-practice briefing, admiring every aspect of your face. The color of your eyes, the way you styled your hair. To Hinata, you were perfection. He only wished he asked you out during high school before he was scouted by the Black Jackals; that was one of his few regrets from his school days. 

Soon enough, once the volleyball season in Brazil ended, he had much spare time. Sure, there was practice and things to do for publicity and media, but he could do that whenever he wanted. Hinata decided to book a flight back to Miyagi the first chance he got, arranging to stay at a hotel just outside the central part of the city. It was a two-week trip with a round ticket back to Brazil, which was just enough time to ensure he would see you at least once. He would visit his other friends, obviously. It would be cruel of him not to. But Hinata did have a favorite, and it was you. Pretty, perfect, beautiful you. He couldn’t wait to get off the plane and tell you he was in town. He just couldn’t.

Hinata flopped onto his hotel bed, breathing in the fresh linen scent. He missed the smell of Miyagi, how it almost always smelled like freshly cut grass. The windows were wide open, and the summertime crickets and cicadas filled an otherwise silent room. He adorned a massive smile, taking off his shirt to let his body breathe. He didn’t have your number; no one on Karasuno’s previous register had it, not since the Nishinoya incident. Yachi had it, but she was no doubt asleep. Well, there was always Instagram direct message. He had a lot of followers (mostly crazy fan girls), and his messages were constantly flooded. He opted to use his secret personal account, which boasted a very proud 23 followers. Hinata searched for your name, found your profile, and hit the message button.

He bit down on his lip, his calloused thumbs hovering over the keypad. How should he type this? He didn’t want to come off as too desperate, even though he wanted to see you again so badly he felt like a heroin addict. The little profile circle taunted him, proudly displaying your happy, smiling face and achingly perfect lips. 

The opposite hitter shrugged his shoulders and hastily typed out a message, adding cute little smiley face emojis. Hinata groaned as he sent the message, shutting off his phone. What if you thought it was weird that he wanted to meet up so soon? Or even worse, what if you had a boyfriend? Not that he wanted to try anything, right? That would be stupid. It’s not like he wants you under him, moans escaping your pretty mouth as he thrusts in and out of your perfect pussy, claiming you as his all night long…right? He wasn’t a pervert, no way. He just wanted you to be his and only his, his hickeys decorating your neck…fuck. Hinata gazed down at his pants, rolling his eyes in annoyance as he saw the newly-formed tent in his grew sweats. 

“Eh, it’ll go away in a bit,” he mumbled, rolling over to check his phone. His heart stopped in his chest once he saw your name appear on his screen. Holy shit.

Your reply was short and sweet, telling him to come for lunch tomorrow. You told him your address and even added a cute little heart emoji. Were you trying to fucking kill him? Hinata shut off his phone again and breathed out, the tent in his sweats growing painfully harder by the second. He wishes he could show you how you made him feel, what you did to him, and his virgin cock.

Yeah, he was a virgin. He just didn’t have time to fool around that much. Volleyball took up much of his time and obligatory social events like media conferences and charity work. He got close once. But she stopped when he told her that he was a virgin. Maybe you would be more forgiving. You were always so kind.

Hinata pulled down his sweats along with his boxers, his cock eagerly springing out and slapping against this bare chest. He shivered as his hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, slowly pumping up and down. His hazelnut brown eyes were squeezed shut as he imagined his hand was yours, all tiny and dainty, pumping up and down on his shaft. How your thumb would rub the tip of his cock, that tongue of yours giving him the tiniest little kitten licks before returning to fucking your fist. Fuck, would his cock even be able to fit in that cute palm of yours?

A deep moan left his chapped lips as he found himself propped up against the wooden headboard, desperately fisting his cock. Precum oozed out of the tip and coated his shaft, the lubrication making it all the more sweet. His mind was clouded with the thought of your pussy slamming down on his length over and over again, the greedy cunt taking his fat cock so well. He wondered if you would flutter around him, how deep you would let him fuck you.

“Fuck, just like that baby,” Hinata moaned, his cock thrusting into his hand impossibly fast. His orgasm would hit any second now. “Fucking this pussy ‘cus it’s mine, yeah? My fuckin’ pussy, my girl,” he bit down on his bottom lip. “Did ya think that since I’ma virgin, I can’t fuck you good? Y’thought wrong, pretty baby-oh fuck.” Hinata’s breath caught in his throat as his cum covered his hand and shaft, glistening in the light of the hotel.  “Shit.”

He grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and cleaned himself off, tossing the spent tissue in the waste basket nearby. “I gotta work on lasting longer…” he mumbled, growing sleepy as nirvana slowly overtook him. He laid his head on the fluffy pillow, setting his alarm for the next morning. He slept with his mostly unpacked bags, eager for what tomorrow would hold. 

That alarm was the prettiest thing Hinata would ever hear because it meant that today was the day he could finally go to your house and see you. He practically jumped out of bed, plastering a huge smile on his freckled face. He wore a simple outfit, mainly because that was all he could hastily back on such an in-the-heat-of-the-moment decision. A black compression shirt with jeans was simple. He grew fond of the compression style when Boktuo showed it during his time on the Black Jackals. Hinata had to admit: he looked damn good in black. Especially since the shirt showed off the abs he worked so hard on building. He donned designer sunglasses and took the elevator downstairs, whistling a happy tune like in some old 1950s bubbly cartoon.

He enjoyed the stroll from the hotel to the town where you lived, waving to those who recognized him from his time spent on the Black Jackals. A few tweens asked for a picture, which he happily agreed to. Hinata loved meeting and interacting with his fans when they weren’t desperate fangirls just trying to get into his pants. They flattered him, but he couldn’t sleep with his fans. That was Oikawa’s business. 

The sun beamed down on his broad shoulders as he finally entered your neighborhood, practically skipping along the burning hot pavement. In retrospect, he should have worn something other than cheap flip-flops. He didn’t care. He was too damn happy to see you again. He would walk across a desert barefoot if it meant he could hang out with you, even if only for five minutes. After a bit, Hinata turned the corner to where your townhouse was. It was quaint and tiny, with a well-kept lawn and a little garden with various colorful flowers under the window. The marigolds caught his eye in particular, mainly because they weren’t native to Japan. He wondered if they were expensive or if someone bought them for you. Hinata tched at the sight of the yellow flowers, growing strangely annoyed at them. He could spoil you more than any man ever could.

Walking up the steps, he felt the nervous sensation of butterflies filling his stomach. He knew you would be so welcoming and open to him—you always have been. It was one of the several things he liked, no, loved about you. His calloused and tanned hand knocked on the beautifully painted wooden door, his foot tapping nervously on the concrete steps that led up to it. 

All his worries vanished instantly once he saw your gorgeous face poke out from behind the door, offering him a bright and welcoming smile. “Oh my god, Shoyo! It’s been so long, come on in!” you laughed, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Hinata’s hands found the small of your back, gently caressing the thin fabric of your baby tee. “I missed you,” you softly spoke, squeezing his muscular torso with all your might.

After a bit, Hinata pulled away from the hug, finding the sun blaring on his back a welcome but annoying presence. You led him inside and ushered him to sit on your couch, ensuring everything was right. “Oh, did you want something to drink? I know you walked here. I’m sorry. I should have just called a cab…” you rubbed your temple, mumbling swear words under your breath as you waltzed into your kitchen. “Shoyo, honey, do you want lemonade or ginger ale? I also have diet sodas!”

Hinata choked on nothing as you called him honey, covering it up with a cough. “U-uh, lemonade is fine! Thanks!” he massaged his throat, the tips of his ears turning faintly pink. Shit, if you were gonna keep calling him sweet words all day, it would only be a matter of time until he was pinning your hands above your head and making you see stars. At least, that’s what he hoped to achieve. He didn’t want just anyone to be his first. He wanted it to be you.

He thanked you for the lemonade, admiring the taste, and brought the cup to his lips. “Oh wow, this is really good. What brand is it?”

“Oh, I made it myself,” you smiled crookedly.

“Even better,” Hinata winked, unaware of what he was doing. “It’s been so long since I’ve had good lemonade, you know? Don’t get me wrong, their drinks in Brazil are amazing, but nothing can ever really beat lemonade.”

“What’s Brazil like?” you innocently asked, scooting further down the couch closer to Hinata. “I haven’t left the country.”

Hinata set the glass of lemonade on the coffee table. “Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s so tropical and lovely, and the locals love me. But that’s just because I play for their team,” he chuckled. “The language was tough to learn at first, but I eventually got the hang of it.”

“I’ll bet. Portuguese sounds like a hard language to learn,” you cross your arms over your chest, inadvertently pushing your breasts together. The baby tee you wore was cut just right to show off a bit of your cleavage, which drove Hinata wild. He would have pounced on you if he had been more immature and ripped that shirt clean. He could always buy you a new one. 

“It’s actually kind of pretty,” he smiled, tapping his fingers against the couch.

“Can you say something in Portuguese?” your eyes sparkle with curiosity, leaning towards Hinata. “Pretty please? I wanna know what it sounds like.”

Fuck. You looked so damn pretty like that, so eager for him. Hinata paused for a moment, opening his mouth. “Eu acho você incrivelmente linda. Você me deixa louco.” Hinata smirked to himself. It was the perfect plan. He could say whatever he wanted, and you would have no idea what it meant.

“What does that mean?” you tilted your head to the side, your hair falling out of its braid. 

Hinata reached for your braid and pushed the loose strands behind your ear. “Uh, it means I like your shirt.” he nodded in mock assurance. 

“Oh wow, that’s a pretty long sentence for just a compliment,” you took a sip of your lemonade, leaving lipgloss on the glass brim. “I guess it’s just a different language. Can you say something else?”

Hinata nodded and subtly wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Uh, this is a traditional Brazilian custom for when you’re seeing someone for the first time in a while.” he glanced down at your eyes, wanting to swim in them.

“Eu preciso te foder,” he mumbled in a low tone. “Tenho desejado que você seja meu primeiro desde nosso terceiro ano.” his thumb brushed across your lower lip.

“Shoyo…?” you questioned, looking up at him with confused eyes. “You’re acting different…did something happen in Brazil?”

Hinata shook his head. “Nothing bad happened to me,” he pulled his thumb away. “I just matured, I guess.”

“And you got taller,” you squeaked, paying extra attention to how his compression shirt showed off his toned and muscular body. “A-and, uh, more buff. Your girlfriend must be lucky.” your voice trailed off, your eyes deciding to focus on the lemonade glasses. 

Hinata shook his head. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I didn’t want one when I played during the season. My coach says it would be a bad idea.” his eyes never left your blushing face. “So, I guess we’re both single.”

“I guess so,”

He thought for a moment. “Do you want to know what I just said in Portuguese?” he heard you mumble in agreement. “I said,” he bent down to reach your ear level. “I need to fuck you. I’ve wanted you to be my first since our third year.”

Your pupils blew out as his words reverberated in your ears, your thighs squeezing together. Was this the same Shoyo Hinata that you went to high school with? “Shoyo,” you breathed, gasping slightly as he quickly pulled you into his lap.

“Please,” he whispered, lazily trailing kissed down your cheek and onto your neck. “You don’t know how badly I missed you, pretty girl.” he stopped his wet kisses, squeezing your hips. “Didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. You’re always on my mind.”

“Fuck, Shoyo,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing your chest against his own. “Have you really been thinking about me like that?”

“You have no fucking idea,” he moaned into your neck, nipping at your flesh. “I fucked my fist to the thought of you so many times. I can’t even get off unless I imagine it’s you.” he groaned as you ground down onto his lap. His lips brushed against yours, aching to taste that gloss. “Please, be my first. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You shuddered. “Okay,” 

Hinata’s eyes roared with a passionate fire as he claimed your lips instantly, the kiss being wild and untamed. You gasped, parting your lips, allowing Hinata’s tongue to delve inside your mouth, happily exploring every inch shamelessly. His hands wandered down to your ass. Any restraint he had melted away as he took a nice handful of your ass, squeezing it roughly. Your hands found purchase in his unkempt red hair, tugging on any curl you could manage.

He groaned into your mouth, slapping your ass shamelessly. “Fuck, keep doing that,” he commanded, biting down mercilessly on those perfectly plump lips. You whined in agreement, tugging harshly on one strand near the crown of his head. He trailed sloppy, wet kisses down your neck until he found the spot that made you squeal so nicely. His teeth sank onto the skin, sucking it like a starving vampire until an ugly purple bruise began to bloom. 

His hands picked you off of his lap and threw you to the other side of the wide couch, his muscular body quickly crowding around you as his lips crashed against yours once more in a scorching, desperate onslaught. “Please,” he whimpered against your lips. “Please let me fuck you, baby. I gotta know how it feels.” his hands slipped past the hem of your leggings, massaging your clothed core. “D’ya want me to do something down here, hm? Tell me what y’want, please. Lemme make you feel good.”

“Shoyo,” you kissed his cheek, bucking your hips onto his palm. “Can y’finger me, please? Wan’ feel your tongue.”

Holy fuck, Hinata could cum just from your words. He eagerly nodded and pulled his hand from your core, the slightest hint of slick on his fingertips. “Take that shit off right now,” he demanded, his cock painfully hard underneath his jeans. 

You scrambled off of the couch, tossing your leggings and panties aside. Fuck, you were wearing pretty orange ones today, too. Did you plan that? He wondered if your bra was orange as well. “And take that top off. Lemme see those tits.” 

His hands reached up and ripped your shirt off, exposing your pretty orange bra for him. Hell yes, he was right. “Shit,” Hinata groaned, biting down on his lower lip. “Now, the bra, please. I wanna see my pretty girl's tits.”

You giggled in response, unclasping your bra from behind. It dropped to the floor, revealing you in all of your naked glory. You sat back on the couch and spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows. The sight of your glistening heat drove Hinata mad, he just had to get a taste.

“I wanna see you too,” you begged, your eyes sparkling. “I wanna see what all that time in Brazil turned you into.”

He happily obliged, taking a moment to remove his compression shirt and jeans. They were tossed aside on the coffee table, making a mess. Hinata proudly displayed himself for you, tan lines, and everything. He was sculpted like a Greek god, and the freckles across his body added to his beauty. “D’ya like what you see?” he flexed his bicep.

“So fucking much,” you felt yourself get wetter at the sight. “Please, Shoyo, c’mere and make me feel good with your tongue. I-I can teach you if you want.”

“Fucking please,” Hinata groaned, kneeling between your legs while using his strong arms to hold them apart. “You’re fucking dripping for me, y’know that? Did you want this as badly as I did, pretty girl?” he kissed your inner thigh.

You nodded. “Yeah, so fucking much. D’ya know how to eat pussy?”

“I did once,” Hinata spoke against your other thigh, kissing it. “I was really good at it for a virgin.”

“Shoyo,” you whimpered. “Stop talking now and eat my pussy.”

“Yes, ma’am, whatever you want,” his cock twitched in his boxers. Did he like being told what to do? He buried his face in between your legs, eagerly lapping at your folds. He flattened his tongue so expertly that it was apparent he had done this more than once. His tongue made rapid zig-zagging motions across your fold, stopping to happily suck at your clit. Your hands again flung to his hair, the orange curls nestling between your fingers.

“Shoyo, fuck!” you cried, arching your back into the couch.

“Fuck baby, if you say my name like that, I’m gonna cum in my boxers,” he mumbled into your pussy, snickering as you let out another pornographic moan. Hinata became frenzied, lapping and sucking and licking at anything he could. He began spelling his name with the tip of his tongue, which he knew you liked because you came on his tongue moments after he finished spelling ‘S-H-O-Y-O.’

“Fuck,” his mouth glistened with your release. He tugged his boxers down to his ankles, letting his throbbing cock smack against his hard abs. “Do you have a condom?”

“N-no,” you shook, still coming down from your high.

“Can I fuck you without one? I’ll buy you the morning-after pill,” he was so desperate he was shaking. Holy fuck, it was finally happening. He was about to lose his virginity to you. 

“Fuck, Shoyo!” you whined in annoyance. “Just fuck me already, we can talk about this after!”

Hell, he didn’t need to be told that twice. His hands caged you into his body, your legs being pushed up against your chest. The throbbing tip of his cock prodded at your entrance, precum leaking from the tip. Hinata hissed as he pushed himself in, relishing in how your pussy tried so hard to take his massive girth. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight. M-maybe I, fuck, maybe I should have fingered you or something.”

“You’re so fucking huge,” you whimpered, your hands scratching at his toned back as you struggled to take his size. “Holy fuck, you’ve been concealing that monster for how long?”

“For a while, baby,” he sighed as he finally bottomed out, his cockhead brushing against your cervix. “Fuck, I can’t hold back. I’m sorry, pretty girl,” Hinata hooked your legs under his arms and pulled his cock almost out before slamming it back inside you again, earning a delicious shriek of pleasure from your lips. 

“So. Fucking. Tight.” he punctuated his words with a thrust, his balls slapping against the cleft of your ass as he drilled his length into you. The front of his thighs met the back of yours over and over again, creating a beautiful melody. “‘Been wanting this f’so fucking long, oh my God.” his head was tossed back, nostrils flaring each time your gummy walls sucked him deeper inside. 

Your entire body was trembling as Hinata used you like a human fleshlight, ruining your cunt for anyone else for a while. Was he really a virgin, or did he fuck like this because he had too much energy? Your hair created the perfect messy halo above your head, your mouth slightly agape with the constant wanton moans being ripped from your chest. 

His blazing brown eyes landed at the sight of your bouncing tits, his hand roughly grabbing one. His thumb ran over the pert nipple, squeezing it. “There are my fuckin’ tits, m’gonna mark them later.”

Hinata choked back a whimper as he was on the ledge of his climax, his hips moving like they had a mind of their own. His breathing was erratic, chest falling up and down as his cock twitched deep inside your cunt. “Shit, m’gonna fucking cum inside of you. Take it all, fucking take it.” he let out a strangled gasp as he painted your walls white with his seed, gasping sharply. 

“Oh fuck,” his head was thrown back, his hips slowly fucking the rest of his orgasm into you. “Oh my god,” Hinata’s face was so incredibly flushed, the baby hairs sticking to his forehead. 

The opposite hitter let go of your legs and collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Y’okay?” he grumbled, squeezing your breast. 

“I’m fine, Shoyo,” you breathed out, still recovering. “That was fucking incredible. Were you lying to me about being a virgin?” you raised an eyebrow in suspicion. 

“Nuh-uh,” he kissed your neck. “I was a virgin until five seconds ago. Sorry for not lasting as long as you wanted me to.”

“I actually liked it,” you rubbed his bicep. “Some guys keep going for so long that eventually it becomes painful. It only really hurt when you shoved yourself into me.”

“Sorry about that,” Hinata reached up to kiss your lips. “I was just really excited, that’s all. You know I flew here just for you, right?”

Your heart softened. “Aw, really? You missed me that much?”

He nodded. “Of course I did. I missed you ever since our last day of high school.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you kissed his cheek. “Hey…d’ya wanna stay with me while you’re in town instead of that crappy hotel?”

“Could I really?” his pupils were blown out. 

“Yeah, don’t be silly.” 

“I’ll go back there and get my things!” Hinata practically jumped off the couch, scrambling to get his clothes on. “Oh, uh, I’ll also get you the morning-after pill.” he chuckled, stumbling as he put his flip-flop on. 

“You’re such a dork,” you grabbed a random throw blanket and bundled yourself up, resting on a throw pillow. “But you’re cute, so it’s okay.”

“I’m your dork now,” he flashed you a smile. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Don’t miss me too much!” he walked out the door, smiling. 

Suddenly, Hinata didn’t seem so homesick anymore.

[hoshifighting]

Hiiii !! First of all tysm for all the fics you’ve put out! I honestly don’t know how you write them so fast 😭 secondly, I’ve been thinking about this so much so when I saw your requests were open again I got so excited to see if you had any opinions! How do you think the Svt members would react if you told them to say “please”/ ask nicely before they could cum?

I know you have so many requests coming in so I hope you’re taking care of yourself and having fun writing these!

svt reaction to you telling them to say “please”/ask nicely before they could cum

WARNINGS: smut, begging, svt desperate to cum ❤️🩹🗣

seungcheol: his pride is imediatelly gone and its almost funny. he’s groaning “please, please, I’ll do anything, baby, just let me cum.” gripping the sheets, thrusting up into your hand, so fucking close that he’s almost whining. if you tease him a little more, he’ll actually beg louder “fuck, I’m begging you—please let me.”

jeonghan: at first, he’s trying to smirk through it, pretending he’s unaffected: “oh, you think I’ll beg for you?” (he will). the minute you slow down or stop, he’s groaning and grinding against you like, “fine, fuck, please—please let me cum, baby.”

joshua: he wants to keep his composure, but his body’s backstabbing him. he’s thrusting into your hand, breathing hard through his nose, trying to hold back, until he’s finally gasping “fine, fine, please, I’ll beg if that’s what you want—just let me cum.”

jun: he’s squirming like crazy, trying to resist. but you can see the moment he breaks—his whole body’s trembling, and he finally whispers “please, baby, I need it—please.”

hoshi: instant panic. he’s gasping out, “please, I’ll be so good, I’ll do anything you want—just let me.” he’s holding onto you for dear life, all wide-eyed and desperate. if you don’t let him right away, he’ll legit cry, moaning your name in between pleases like he’s praying to you.

wonwoo: the silent sufferer. he’s biting his lip so hard it might bleed, glaring at you like he’s daring you to make him beg. but when you edge him for the third time, his voice cracks “fuck, please—please just let me finish.”

woozi: this man is STUBBORN. at first, he’s glaring at you, biting his lip like he can hold out forever. but when you keep teasing him, he’s growling under his breath “haah—! fuck, okay—please, just let me finish, I can’t take it anymore.”

minghao: you’re testing his patience, and he hates losing. he’s shaking his head at first, lips tight, but when you keep teasing him, he’s hissing “you’re so cruel. fine—please, just let me cum.”

soekmin: likes it when you’re mean to him. he’s smiling through his whines, “please, baby, I know you wanna hear me beg—just let me cum, I’ll be so good for you.” if you keep teasing him, he’s GIGGLING because he lowkey loves it.

mingyu: he’s too whipped for you to pretend he wouldn’t enjoy being edged and begging for permission. he’d say please a hundred times if it meant you’d let him finish.

seungkwan: this man can talk, and it’s all spilling out at once. “please, I’m begging, I’ll be so good—fuck, I’ll never do anything to piss you off again, I promise, just let me cum, PLEASE.” he’s pulling out all the stops, saying whatever he thinks will convince you. 10/10, most affected.

vernon: he’s so conflicted. you can see the internal battle written all over his face. he starts off quiet, breathing hard, refusing to speak—until you slow down and he panics “wait, wait, okay—please, I’ll say whatever you want, just don’t stop.”

chan: his pride lasts for like… ten seconds. he’s trying to play it cool, but when he feels you tighten or slow down, he’s crying. bonus: if you’re extra mean, he’ll choke out an apology for being so stubborn.

[sugrclip]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍: you find yourself crying during sex as jaehyun pounds ( makes love to you ) before he leaves for the military. you just want him to come back already— even as he’s inside of you.

content ── wc、1.2k. pwp. fem! reader. lowercased. boyfriend!jaehyun. establish relationship. black intended. sweet, emotional sex. unprotected sex. daddy kink ( reader calls jae dada ). pet names.

kiana’s notez . . . ☘︎ ݁˖ in honory of jaehyun’s enlistment.. this was meant to be brainrot oh my godddd! i did a lil too much, i might make a rougher version in brainrot form. we miss you jae, come back home daddy :(

you were in your apartment in la, and your boyfriend jaehyun had been visiting back and forth for the last few days, making the most of his time in the states for his video shoot. long distance was never an issue for you two— jaehyun's busy schedule kept him occupied. always making time to text or call you every day, while you were a homebody who owned a boutique for a living. with the freedom to fly out at almost any time to see him whenever he had the time to make the most of yours.

right now you were in your feelings, laying under him completely naked. although he was here now, you already craved him so much knowing that he would be gone doing his military service. somehow it felt farther in distance than when he was performing on stage across the globe. plus you haven’t been fucked in a while, and he was finna double it once he flew back to korea. that shit was lowkey cruel now that you thought about it. they really about to take your man.

“you really finna leave me like this dada?” you asked jaehyun with a pout, your voice laced with desperation, need, and disappointment. your stomach fluttered as he rubbed his soft pink tip against your tiny, hooded clit. the base of his shaft between your wet, puffy folds. it made you upset cause you craved more, he was taking his time, and he was leaving.

“i know baby, i know,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours. those soft eyes he gave you when he fucked you or was about to fuck you were all so familiar, now holding a hint of regret in them. he didn’t want to leave you either but he knew that the quicker he enlisted, the quicker he’ll be back to you. getting the obstacles out of the way so that he could spend as much time as the world gave him when he came back.

“the sooner i go, the sooner i’ll be out,” he leaned in closer burying his face in your neck, laying hot kisses against your skin. his hand rubbed up and down your thigh, which was spread wide open for him. “and when i return, i promise to make up every moment we missed.”

as you were lost in thought, savoring the way his kisses felt on your neck, he entered you slowly. causing you to instinctively grip his bicep and look between your bodies where you were joined, feeling your breath get caught in your throat.

your perfectly manicured acrylic french tips wrapped around the firm muscle trying to ground yourself. “mmh fuck wait,” you moaned out softly, your voice mixed with pleasure and surprise. as you scooted yourself up the mattress just an inch.

but damn, it hit you hard that it had been so long since the last time you were fucked just by how you barely managed to take a few inches. you almost swore you were a virgin again just now.

you could practically see the way his thick dick forced its way past your entrance as if your pussy was trying to resist him— his tip popping its way in. the sight instantly turned you on, him too, hearing the way he groaned at the site. his hand going down to rest on top of your pelvis, his thumb going to part one side of your folds as he inched his way inside.

“you good mama?” jaehyun asked softly looking up at you, his voice written in split worry but it was clear he was restraining himself. his gaze followed yours again, watching intently as he slowly eased himself out a few inches, the both of you holding a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

the brief spare you thought he had given you to catch your breath was short-lived when just as you were about to reply he fully thrusted back in filling you completely, forcing a moan from your chest.

"fuckkk," you cried out. "jae, you're too big." the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them. you could feel the intense pressure building in your lower belly, a delicious ache that spread through your core.

clearly, it wasn’t a question but a gentle warning for preparation for what was about to come. “i’ve missed you so much, baby. let me show you just how much.” he mumbled with a shaky breath, dripping with arousal. his words sent shivers down your spine, you really did miss him— just as much if not more.

every movement of his thick shaft dragged across your sensitive, velvey walls, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

desperate for something to anchor you, your other hand shot out to grab the sheet beneath you. your fingers curled tightly into the fabric, knuckles turning white as you held on, bracing yourself as he sped up his sharp thrusts.

“you missed me too hm? missed the way i make love to you?” he asked, his voice husky with pure desire. the rhythmic sound of skin on skin filling its way into your bedroom. the soft, wet plapping noises of his thick balls slapping against your pussy made it oh so erotic, fucking waves of arousal out of you.

“such a good girl for not giving my pussy up, can feel how tight you are,” he let out throaty groans driving his hips into yours. wrapping his hand behind your neck as he rested his forehead on yours, forcing you to keep eye contact. he fucking loved you.

the way your breasts bounced rhythmically with each powerful thrust, his unoccupied, large hand going down to hold your waist. the steady, consistent sound of the bed frame colliding with the wall echoed throughout the dim lit room. the candle that you had lit, the way his dick touched your soul, and the way your breath mixed with his throughout pants and moans were too much for you.

as the sensations overwhelmed you a wave of emotion in its purest form slipped over you, cause you to sniffle softly. a single tear trailed its way down your cheek, it was almost bittersweet in a way. “what’s wrong baby?”

your voice thick with emotion, barely above a whisper, almost pleading, “don’t leave me dada, ‘m gon miss you.”

his hand slid up your body, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek, gently wiping the tear away. his eyes filled with love and compassion, as he murmured reassuringly, “you don’t gotta cry baby, i gotchu,” he kissed your cheek, trailing pecks across your face until he reached your lips. kissing you lovingly deep, his lips moving in slow harmony against yours. “when i come home it’s all on me baby, whatever you wanna do, whatever you want, i promise.”

he never ever broke his promises.

you could feel the way his thrusts slowed once he found that squishy cave in your pussy, focusing on it with deliberate precision. rolling his hips with intention, making sure the head of his dick caressed that sensitive spot within each movement. making your thighs shake and tremble with uncontrollable pleasure.

forcing you. . . pushing you to moan so sweetly for him as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. shamelessly babbling out “i love you’s” and “i miss you’s”.

“i love you jae,” you said at that same exact moment you felt yourself coming, creaming around his dick. your voice all shaky, filled with love, staring into his eyes.

leaving wet, audible pecks against your glossy lips before his response came without hesitation. voice low and tender, filled with an equal measure of love.

"i love you too, baby, so much. more than you could ever know.”

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. © sugrclip 、all rights reserved . . . do not modify, copy, or plagiarize my posts on any platform. you do not have permission. tumblr is the only platform that i have.

[taeyongdoyoung]

wicked game

summary: you try to seduce the unpopular virgin to win a bet with your stepbrother. your stepbrother wants to sleep with you and you want his car. but the virgin guy has more to offer... pairing: loser virgin!haechan x popular girl!reader genre: angst, romance, smut, high school setting warnings: the bet trope my beloved, manipulative stepbrother!jeno, ex-boyfriend!mark, innapropriate groping in school, one non-consensual cheek kiss, past man-eater y/n, lowkey corruption kink, lots of kissing, handjob, blowjob, eating out, attachment issues, protected sex (unbelievable), classmates to lovers, non-consensual photo-taking, breakfast in bed, break-up, no pain no gain author's note: this is loosely based on the movie Cruel Intentions minus the dying part; disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, i don't actually think Jeno is an A-hole, i just needed such a character for the sake of the plot word count: 3.7k

You're bored. Being the most popular, prettiest and richest girl in high school is not enough to satisfy your greed. Boys are literally throwing themselves at you in every corner. It's almost too easy. You want a challenge. Something to make the last year of school a memorable one. Something fun.

So, when your stepbrother Jeno presents you with an idea, you accept it eagerly.

"If you're so bored, why don't I propose a bet?"

"What kind of a bet?" you eye him curiously.

"See that guy Haechan? I heard he's a virgin and saving himself for his one ~true love~. How fucking pathetic is that?"

"So? What is it to me?" you scoff, though you already have a feeling where this is going.

"If you manage to seduce that fucking loser, I'll give you my Jaguar."

"Oh, that's very tempting," you smirk. "And if I don't?"

"Then, you'll sleep with me," Jeno whispers in your ear.

"Ew, as if. You're my brother," you make a gagging motion.

"Stepbrother," Jeno points out.

"Still, it's gross," you shake your head.

"Are you scared you'll lose?" Jeno sticks his tongue out.

"I haven't agreed to the bet yet," you answer.

But Jeno knows you too well. You are already thinking of ways to ruin that poor boy Haechan.

You approach him that same day, sitting on the empty seat on his desk. Asking him to do homework together...

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" Haechan spits out.

Ouch. Little one is too feisty for a regular loser. This might be more interesting than you initially thought.

"Why not? If you hang out with me, people will think you're cool," you try to attack where you believe it'll sting.

"So? Popularity isn't everything, you know?" Haechan rolls his eyes. "Besides, people who peak in high school spend the rest of their lives leading a mediocre, non-satisfying existence."

Damn. Pretty harsh. You didn't anticipate this would be so difficult. Oh well, all the more motivation to try harder.

"You admit it, then? That I'm at my peak right now," you smile flirtatiously, running a finger across his face.

"It doesn't matter to me where you think you are," Haechan glares at you, grabbing your finger and removing it from his skin. "As long as you get out of my face."

Gee, so aggressive.

"Did I ever do something to you?"

"No, but you messed with my best friend Mark's head. Leading him to believe you cared for him and then ditching him is so not cool. Now, piss off," Haechan grunts angrily.

You don't even remember half of the names of the guys you slept with. But you do remember Mark. He was really sweet. And if you could feel something at all, it would have been guilt. But back when you were with Mark, your mother had just announced she's getting re-married to Jeno's father. So, you were angry at everyone and everything. And you took it all out on Mark.

"Well, I can't change the past, so don't blame me without knowing the circumstances."

"It doesn't matter anyway. Mark found a girl much better than you who's treating him right."

"What about you? Got someone special taking care of you?" you touch him again, this time more forward and shameless, trying to elicit a reaction out of him. Sneaking your hand underneath the desk and caressing him fondly.

"It's n-none of your b-business," Haechan stammers but he doesn't remove your hand this time. Oh, he's so touch-starved this is going to be a lot of fun. For you.

"I could take care of you, you know? Turn all your wildest dreams into reality."

"I know what you are," Haechan shakes his head.

"A vampire!" you gasp in mock surprise.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Haechan fakes a smile. "You're a man-eater. You fuck around with guys and then you leave them to rot. I want nothing to do with you."

"Really? Then, why haven't you removed my hand yet?" you remind him, though perhaps you shouldn't have.

Haechan grabs your wrist, pushing you away firmly.

"You're wrong, you know," you try to convince him of your sincerity. "I'm just as eager to find someone who loves me. Someone worth staying for."

"And what, you expect me to believe that someone is me?" Haechan stares at you sceptically.

"Let's find out, shall we?" you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he can escape.

And then, you let him be. Enough torture for day one.

You start interacting with Haechan every day. During the first month, you are consumed with thoughts of Jeno's bet. The abominable idea of sleeping with your stepbrother is enough to keep you going. Of course, you know he's not gonna force you into it. But you need the motivation to not lose the bet anyway. The gorgeous car is also pretty seductive.

During the second month, you are consumed with thoughts of Haechan. You begin to realize how lovely, clever and funny he is. And the fact he's even letting you spend time with him is enough to make you happy. You're no longer bored. Because everyday you have something fun to look forward to. You spend time at the school library, doing homework together, occasionally sending memes to each other. You go on little walks and picnics at the park. You even go to the cinema a couple of times, bonding over your shared love for horror movies.

During the third month, the miracle happens. Haechan decides he trusts you enough to invite you over to his place one evening. He even makes the point of notifying you that his parents aren't home. What does he mean by that? Is this an opportunity for you to finally seduce him?

Naturally, you don't get much homework done, before Haechan starts kissing you out of nowhere. You kiss him back eagerly.

"W-what are you doing?" you ask as you notice Haechan has started unbuttoning his jeans.

"I t-thought you wanted this. S-sorry," Haechan looks down, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. He's in a hurry to zip himself again. God, you feel so cruel.

"I d-do," you admit, no longer giving a shit about that stupid bet. "But I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for."

"So, you've heard about what I said at that fucking party?"

"What did you say?" you ask, even though you have an idea of what it involves.

"That I'm saving it for someone special," It being his virginity, you suppose. "Someone who loves me. To be honest, I was really drunk that night. I don't care all that much anymore."

"It's okay to have your principles, Haechan," you try to reassure him and stroke his soft hair gently. "I think it's pretty admirable, actually."

Haechan shakes his head, visibly disagreeing.

"Well, it's fine. I'm ready for this, I promise. Just...don't leave right after, okay?" he pouts.

"Oh, Haechan, of course I won't leave," you reply and surprise yourself in that you really mean it.

Kissing him deeper, you finish what he started and take off his jeans. You touch his cock softly, as if it's the most precious thing in the world. You've done this hundreds of time with guys you didn't give a fuck about and felt nothing, the actions methodical and quick. But this, right now, is more special than your limited vocabulary could ever describe. You realize you genuinely don't want to hurt him. You bow down and envelop your lips around his length. He gets hard easily, considering it's his first time. You suck on him a couple of times and he cums even faster than you anticipated. But for some reason, it's never tasted sweeter.

"S-sorry," Haechan mumbles shyly.

"It's okay, my sweet boy," you coo in his ear, after you're done swallowing his cum. You run your hands through his hair once again. God, it's so silky. You could never get enough of him.

"W-what do I d-do now?" he asks cutely.

"Whatever you want, mon ange," you kiss him once more.

"C-can I eat you out?" Haechan inquires.

Oh, so virgin boy is not so clueless, after all.

"Sure, I guess," you shrug. Not really a huge fan of that, the few times guys have offered, they quickly grow tired of it and could never make you cum as hard as you could by yourself. But it's okay. If Haechan wants to...

"Just...guide me, okay?" he pleads adorably and soon, you find out he needs no guidance at all.

What he lacks in experience, he definitely makes up for with enthusiasm. He seems so eager to please you, licking and biting and kissing your pussy that you cum faster than you have in...well, ever, actually. You grip his hair for support, panting and chanting his name like a prayer.

"Was that alright?" Haechan feigns a self-conscious smile, though judging by your reaction, his smile is already turning into a proud smirk. That bastard.

"Are you kidding? It was...out of this world," you say honestly. Funny thing about honesty is how something that used to be so difficult for you comes so easily to you when you're with Haechan.

"Glad to hear," he grins widely. You want to kiss him every second till the rest of your life. The thought terrifies you.

"I s-should go," you try to get up. You can't do this. You can't be the one to take his virginity. Considering how this all started. It'd be too cruel. He should be with someone special, someone loves him more than anything, someone who'd never hurt him.

"W-what, w-why?" Haechan asks, grabbing your wrist in a panic, not wanting to let go. "I thought you liked me."

"I do like you. I like you so much. That's the problem."

"It doesn't have to be," Haechan disagrees, pushing you back on the bed. "Please, let me."

And here you thought you'd be the one begging him to have sex with you.

"O-okay," you can no longer find it in yourself to deny him. To deny your growing feelings...

Haechan digs through his jeans and pulls out a condom. His hands are shaking and he's having a hard time putting it on so you help him and pull him out of his misery. You give him a soft, reassuring smile, paired with a quick squeeze of his hand. He smiles back just as fondly.

And then he slides inside you so easily. As if he belongs there. As if he's meant to be yours. You kiss him desperately to distract yourself from the truth. To hide the tears that are threatening to come out.

"You f-feel so g-good," Haechan grunts in your ear.

"So do you, baby," you admit sincerely.

This time around, he lasts longer, fucking you until your release comes for the second time. He cums right after, with his hands touching your cheeks, his lips on your neck and his heart on his sleeve.

"Wanna stay inside you forever," he whispers once it's over.

"That wouldn't be very practical," you chuckle. Though you would like nothing more.

But he gets up to get rid of the condom and then comes back, hugging you tightly.

"Can you be my girlfriend?" Haechan blurts out. "I know you probably don't like clingy guys but...considering you've been pursuing me for the past three months, I thought..."

"I'll be your girlfriend," you agree rightaway, not giving a shit about the consequences. "Of course, I will."

He laughs, the sound so precious and filled with joy it breaks your heart.

Maybe he never has to know how it all began. Maybe you could hide it from him forever. Maybe...you could allow yourself to be happy. Just this once.

Soon, Haechan falls asleep, feeling comfortable around you. You know what you have to do, but you feel like shit anyway. You secretly take a picture of his half-naked figure sleeping soundly. You sigh quietly and send the photo to your stepbrother Jeno.

Then, you put your phone down, trying to forget about the whole ordeal. You cuddle up next to Haechan and enjoy his warmth until you fall asleep.

The next morning, you wake up before Haechan and quickly run out to make him some breakfast. You have no idea when his parents will be home but you don't want this to be their first impression of you. So, you leave the breakfast on Haechan's nightstand with a little note.

See you at school, boyfriend! XOXO, Y/N.

Rushing back home, you are satisfied when Jeno gives you the car keys to his Jaguar without protesting. Your stepbrother may be kinda freaky, but at least he's a man of his word. What gives you the creeps is the slight smirk on his face as he hands you the keys. As if he didn't lose the bet. As if he's the winner.

You try not to think about it too much, as you get dressed for school, excited to see Haechan again. You still can't believe he asked you to be his girlfriend. That pretty, sweet boy makes you so unbelievably happy. You look forward to spending more moments in his sunny company.

Haechan wakes up to the smell of warm pancakes, covered with chocolate and strawberries and accompanied by coffee. It immediately brings a smile on his face, which only becomes wider as he sees the little note you left him. He giddily enjoys the breakfast and then rushes to get dressed for school. You're his girlfriend! He's never had a girlfriend and he's so pleased you're being so nice to him. Maybe you really are better than people say and all that past drama was just everyone being jealous of your beauty and popularity...This is going to be the best day of his life.

But when he gets to school, everything changes. He knows that he's considered one of the "losers" in the hierarchy but usually people just ignore him and don't pay attention to him. He's fine with that, really! But today, whenever he walks by, people are snickering and whispering something. It feels so weird and makes him uncomfortable. He can't quite hear what they're saying and this kind of unexpected treatment is killing him.

He goes to his friend Mark to ask him what's up.

"Bro...I don't know how to tell you this," Mark looks away, as if the thing is so bad he can't even say it.

Haechan impatiently begs him to just enlighten him as to why everyone is giving him weird looks all day.

Mark sighs and shows him a secreenshot. There, he sees a photo of himself, half-naked and sleeping soundly. Fuck, that's from last night. And what the messages between you and your stepbrother Jeno reveal...shocks Haechan out of his senses. No...no way it was just a bet. No way you spent three months courting him for a fucking car?! This can't be true. It's gotta be Photoshopped or something.

"Listen, buddy, I warned you that she likes messing with guys and then leaving them."

"No, she...she really seemed to care about me," Haechan is still in denial as his vision becomes blurred with tears.

He runs away, unable to believe what is happening. He needs to speak to you. Hear it from your own lips. To be sure this is real and not just a sick joke.

When he finally finds you, he grabs your wrist as he did just yesterday. But this time, he's not doing to get you to stay. But because he's furious.

"Is it true? Did you really make a bet with Jeno on whether you can fuck me? Did you seriously do all of that over a car?!"

Your facial expressions are enough of an answer. Guilt. Something you never thought you were capable of.

"H-haechan, I swear I can explain," you beg him to hear you out.

"Explain? How can you explain that?" Haechan shakes his head, letting go of your hand. You try to touch him again but he shoves you off furiously.

"It was just a bet at the very beginning. But somewhere along the way, I really started having feelings for you, I promise," you cry passionately. "I don't care about the car, I'll fucking thrash it, I just wanted to get Jeno off my back."

Haechan takes a step back, feeling so betrayed. So...used.

"Whatever you say, I don't think I can believe you anymore. Was it fun, at least? Was this all just a wicked game to you?"

"N-no, it wasn't, I swear it," you are bawling at this point, feeling so pitiful. You don't care if the whole school sees. You only care that Haechan understands. You never meant things to go this far... "I truly care about you, Haechan."

"Yeah?" he scoffs, annoyed. "You only care about yourself."

And with that he leaves. And you lose the one person you truly, genuinely loved.

This is the worst day of your life.

Throughout the rest of the school year you don't dare approach him again. You know you fucked up so badly. You can't even look at that stupid car, let alone consider driving it, so you sell it. Partly because you're angry at Jeno for spreading the screenshot around the whole school. Partly because you no longer want to have anything that will remind you of the biggest mistake you ever made.

With the money you get for the car and some of your own savings, you secretly sponsor Haechan, Mark and their other friends' singing club. You don't even want Haechan to find out. It just...feels right. They could use the extra help.

As the final year of school nears its end, you begin to imagine a future where you never get to see Haechan again. At least, during the past couple of months you had the privilege of looking at him from a distance. But the idea of a world with no Haechan is like a world with no sun.

So, you decide you have to do something as soon as possible. He doesn't have to forgive you or accept you as a girlfriend again. You just want to be in his life in some form.

As you approach the school's radio booth, you feel all the bad things of your past coming back to bite you in the ass. Maybe you deserve to be forever alone. But you need to give it a try. It's your last chance.

"Hi, Mark," you greet your ex-boyfriend.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he sighs, not at all happy to see you.

"Before I get to that, let me just say how sorry I am for the way I treated you in the past. I'm really happy you're finally with someone who appreciates you for how totally awesome you are."

"That's...unexpectedly nice of you to say," Mark eyes you suspiciously. "We were never right for each other anyway. So, what do you want?"

"I want to apologize to Haechan. Through a message broadcasted to the whole school..."

"Gee, and you couldn't do it the old-fashioned way, face to face?" Mark jokes.

"Haechan doesn't wanna see me," you say, fully convinced.

"How would you know without trying?" Mark asks. Has...Haechan told him something? No, you couldn't allow yourself to hope.

"I just know, okay? Please, let me do this. We're graduating in one week, this might be my last chance to talk to Haechan."

Mark nods, agreeing.

"Five minutes," he takes off his headphones and vacates the seat in the radio booth for you.

"Thank you! I mean it," you have never been more grateful for anything.

Mark shrugs as if it's not a big deal and leaves you to it.

"I want to dedicate this so someone I hurt," you speak into the microphone. "Someone who didn't deserve it. Someone very dear to me. Someone I still care deeply about. Haechan, I'm so incredibly sorry, please, give me another chance."

And you start singing.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

Your voice is off-key a couple of times and halfway through the song you start crying inconsolably, all the guilt and pain consuming you. The whole school is probably laughing at you but you can no longer bring yourself to care. The only thing that matters is that Haechan hears this.

When you finish the song, you leave the radio booth and are surprised to find Haechan right outside the door, willing to talk to you.

"H-haechan," you stammer and barely resist the urge to give him a hug. You don't want him to feel pressured or anything.

"I'll give you a second chance on one condition. I want Jeno's Jaguar," Haechan jokes.

"Too bad, I already sold it and donated the money to your music club so you guys can get new instruments and stuff."

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Haechan exclaims. He doesn't sound angry, though, just...shocked.

"Sorry, sorry, I know it wasn't my place. But it was so unfair the football team and the cheerleading team get so much money but no one cares about the arts."

"Okay, okay, I guess this is better than that ugly car," Haechan chuckles. The car is not ugly. Not even a little bit. But you appreciate Haechan all the more for saying that.

"Can you really forgive me?" you ask desperately, eyes still watery.

"I can forgive you but I'll probably never forget," Haechan admits with a sigh. "If you break my trust again..."

"I won't, I swear!" you vow seriously. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and treating you the way you deserve. You're the best person I've ever met, Haechan. If you'll have me, I want to be around you forever."

"Forever is a long time" Haechan muses out loud. "Considering we're going to college...I don't even know where you're applying."

"I'll go wherever you go," you say hurriedly.

"You can't give up on your dreams just for me, though."

"I'm not. You're my dream, Haechan. You're my sun and I want to be in your orbit. If you'll allow me, that is," you can't take it any longer and hold his hand softly, asking, begging for that second chance not to slip away.

"I'll allow it," Haechan smiles sweetly. "Let's run towards our dreams together, from now on."

"I won't let you down," you promise from the depths of your heart.

And you finally, truly mean it.

The End

[satoruxx]

PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 

"who's the rookie?" 

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 

"maybe she's strong?" 

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 

ii. routine 

"can i ask you guys a question?" 

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there. 

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 

but you can't. 

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 

"—so that makes you her family then." 

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 

"…yes." 

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 

"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 

"me too." 

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 

"oh? and why's that?" 

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 

"shoko?" 

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?" 

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you. 

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 

"i know." 

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 

there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 

that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now. 

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 

"suguru—" 

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 

nobody has laughed in a while now. 

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 

"better late than never, right?" 

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 

"'m not crying." 

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 

he doesn't. 

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 

you accept your fate then and there. 

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again. 

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added: 

both of you stfu you're failing too 

you had drawn a heart next to her name. 

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 

"want help?" 

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 

"…are all of suguru's things." 

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 

"guess not." 

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 

"let's get started then, hotshot." 

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 

but it's enough for the two of you. 

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 

"so do you." 

"i am," you admit honestly. 

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 

"hey." 

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 

you frown. "what are you talking about?" 

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

[variousqueerthings]

the doctor being a part of the noble family has the energy of an addams family cousin -- imagines rose being in a school play and the doctor fixing up some gizmo to open up a tiny gap to some part of the universe where stars shine particularly brightly for midsummer night's dream, and accidentally almost levels the school by misjudging how close they are to this one very dense planet (people in the audience confusedly waving at aliens who are just as confusedly waving their tentacles back from a thousand years in the future a million light years away. everybody afterwards talks about the great special effects, but they're not sure what it has to do with the story)

people trying to figure out who this "the doctor" person is and why he's living with the nobles, and always trying to catch out that there's something going on, but the doctor's answers to all their inquiries are so lowkey bonkers as to bamboozle any further attempts (so where are you from again? oh just this place, well, I say place, planet, well, I say planet I don't actually know these days, but somewhere certainly... is Ipswich a place? how do you know mrs noble again? we travelled together for a bit, and then, well you know how it is when you get hit with a face full of radiation, ey *snort-laughs at his own joke* and what's your name again? doctor, the "the" is a pronoun, it can get confusing I know, but people on this planet choose their names all the time, you'll catch up)

just this house gremlin in a setup that nobody from the outside understands, toddling about, showing up at every event that rose has going for her, wearing little pride pins that might be partially for himself as well as for rose (gay??? one of those trans ones????), always seems to be talking about strange places that nobody has heard of but doesn't want to admit to, occasionally goes eerily still and unnerving around people who are cruel and mean, knows a lot about history, but peppers it with facts that can't possibly be true, gets on very well with shaun who always answers questions with "the doctor's part of the family, youknow?" they do not know, but at this point it's too rude to keep asking

[b3ach-bunn7]

FORWARDS BECKON REBOUND PT2

You learn to live without Dabi, and he learns he can’t live without you

nsfw, smut (u can lowkey skip it, it’s right at the end), angst with happy ending, Villan!Dabi

—————————————————————————

You don’t know what you were expecting.

He’s a villain. A villain who kills and burns people alive, who’s looked death in the eyes enough to know him by name. He was cruel and he was calculated. He works for the biggest villains in the country, the ones you’ve seen targeting children, quirkless people like you.

And you think you love him. 

You think you love him and you miss him. So much more than you thought you would’ve. You’d had hope, that first morning when you’d woken up and seen that he was gone, that he’d come back. It was the first time he’d left the house since you’d found him, and you thought that maybe he just wanted fresh air. To go outside. You ignored the voice in the back of your head that told you otherwise, and you held out hope. 

But then a day passed. And another, and another, and soon you lost track of how long it had been. You had to bite the bullet. Pack up the clothes you’d bought him and shove them in a box deep in your closet. The sight of the couch in the middle of your living room was too painful of a reminder, so you put it on Craigslist, and despite the stains and the ugly pattern, someone buys it. You buy an equally cheaper and uglier one, and bite back tears as you push it into place. As quickly as he’d entered your life, Dabi was gone.

You don’t know if you should allow yourself to mourn him. You don’t even know what it is you’re mourning. A lover? A roommate? A friend? A boyfriend? You hadn’t even kissed, barely gotten closer than falling asleep on his shoulder, sitting little too close to him on the couch.

You spend your days trying to forget. You call your friends. You pick up a few extra shifts at work, tend to your ruined flowerbed. Despite all the extra work you give yourself, trying your hardest to tire yourself out, you still can’t get to sleep at night. You toss and turn and think of him. It oddly reminds you of his first few nights here. You’d been convinced he’d come and kill you in the night and you’d made sure to lock your door before you slept. Now, you sort of wish he did kill you. Or at least do something horrible so you wouldn't miss him so much.

You don’t even know why you did it. The smart thing to do would’ve been to just call the authorities, but part of you knew calling the police and the ambulance would cause too much drama. You know where you live. Cheap and affordable places are never going to be in good neighbourhoods.  You’ve seen the types of people that lurk around at night. You can only imagine the reaction of those living around you if you brought police to their front door, the news channels aching for a story on one of the most infamous villains almost dead on some random lady’s door. 

So you took him in. Like a stray. You sewed him up and did what you could to stop the bleeding. You apologised to a man who couldn’t hear you as you cut his shirt away, tossing it in your bathtub. He’d mumbled incoherently to you the whole time you’d seen him shut. Something about rain? Rei? You were unsure. His words were slurred, and the grip he had on the hem of your shirt loosened as he lost consciousness bit by bit. When you finally settled him down on your couch, old tarp shoved underneath him, he was out cold.

And then you waited. For him to wake up and kill you, for him to leave. You had no idea. You felt so stupid every time you looked at the sleeping figure on your couch. The marred skin, the staples hastily pressed into his skin. He looked evil. He looked scary. You scrubbed at your carpets and your tiled bathroom floor for what felt like hours to rid them of the red that had seeped into them. Or maybe just for something to do.

And then when he did wake up, and those piercing blue eyes landed on you, you felt your heart drop into your ass. He was beautiful, a fact that annoyed you greatly. The strong lines of muscle, the straight edge of his jaw. His eyes had narrowed at your staring, and you think that was the beginning of the end. 

He loves to stare. You learnt that very quickly. Any time you changed his bandages or just walked around the house his eyes were trained onto you. Watched your every move. You felt  hunted in your own home, prickling under his undivided attention. 

And you don’t know when the lines blurred. When instead of avoiding him in your room you sat on the loveseat next to him. When you started talking. When you learnt his favourite food was soba, that he liked the colour purple. You felt silly asking him such inane questions but what could you do? You wanted to get to know the man living in your home. Dabi was a villain, sure but he hadn’t been very villainous towards you. Granted, he did threaten to kill you every other sentence but you were almost completely positive he was joking. 

And you got closer. He opened up little by little. Stopped staring at you all the time. You took that as a sign of trust. You dutifully cared for the stab wound on his chest, and he got bolder. 

That was around the time he started flirting with you. Well, he had been flirting from the start, but this was less minor sexual harassment and more actual flirting. Calling you pretty, complimenting the stuff you wore. Kept calling you baby despite you reminding him of your name every time. You ignored the feeling in your stomach at the grin that stretched over his face whenever you flushed red. The fact he was always fucking shirtless. It makes sense he’s well built, what with all the villanous fighting and all. But god, if you can’t stop staring.

Dabi calls you brave. You don’t think you’re brave, you think you’re stupid. You’re stupid to start sitting right next to him. To feel the warmth radiating off his body as he leans his arms on the couch behind you, as he peers over your shoulder to see what you’re reading.

You watch him grow more comfortable in your home. He stops looking so on edge all the time, relaxes. You get used to the sight of him lounging in your home every time you come home from work. 

Dabi starts doing little things. You come home and find the dishwasher empty. He’s learnt where you keep your dishes and your cups. He watches you cook. Pesters you until you let him lick the batter off your spatula. It feels so horribly domestic it makes your stomach turn.

And you ignore the thoughts you have that stop being about roommates and delve into something more dangerous. You don’t miss the way Dabi’s eyes linger on your body, the set in his jaw as you complain about a flirty coworker. You think you’re seeing things, but then your mind drifts to that night at the window. The last time you saw him.

He’d looked so perfect. The two of you soft and ready to sleep. It had been early, early enough that the sleep niggled in the back of your mind, loosened your tongue. He leant against the window and his biceps curled as he leant forward to put out his cigarette, flicking it on the floor. You tut, and he grabbed another while assuring you littering is not the worst crime he’s committed.  

And you knew he could see the disbelief on your face when he called himself ugly. And you barely thought as you call him hot. Hot as fuck, at that. His lips twitched like he was about to smile, instead he brushed you off.

And then you touched him. You couldn’t help yourself. You’d always wondered and now seemed as good a time as any. With you in a shirt that smelled like him, his eyes not leaving yours for longer than a minute. He didn’t stop you, barely tried with a teasing comment you knew held no meaning. You traced his skin like a puzzle, from the rough texture of his scars to the soft skin next to it. He’s told you time and time again he doesn’t feel but he shivered against your touch like he did. And you didn’t need to look at him to know he was looking at you so intensely you felt his gaze down to the bottom of your feet. 

And you chest tightened as he let you. He let you touch him, and it didn’t feel like the times when you’d leant on his arm or bandaged him up. It felt different. It filled you with emotion you can’t describe, and you let it. And when you brushed against his face you saw him breathe. Physically saw his chest heave up as your touch became more insistent. Dabi looked at your lips and you looked at his, wondering what it would feel like to kiss the scarred skin on them.

And then your phone rang, and the moment was shattered. Now, you can’t remember what your mother had wanted, what the call was about.

And when you awoke the next morning, he was gone.

Maybe you pushed too far. Maybe he had business to attend to. You’ll never know, because he never told you. You had no way to contact him and you don’t think you would if you could. The message he was trying to give you was clear.

Your friends invite you to drinks, and you decline. It had been a long day at work, and while you could do with your favourite pink mimosas, you’re tired. The idea of being in a bar right now makes you cringe. So you bid your farewells, and make your way home. You stop to grab a few groceries. It took you a few times to remember you didn’t need two times the amount you usually buy.

You don’t think about Dabi as you walk up your driveway. Not when you look at the newly planted flowers you’d bought at the market. You will never see him again, and it’s a fact you need to learn to live with.

At least, that’s what you think, until you walk into your house to find him sitting on your couch. His leg is jigging impatiently up and down, and he’s wearing the long trench coat you see him in on the news. You stand in the doorway, shopping bags dropping to the floor. The noise pulls him out of whatever stupor he’s in and he turns to you. Eyes travelling up your body before he looks away.

“The lock on your door is shit. Took me less than a minute to pick it.”  

You don’t say anything. It’s your turn to just stare at him. His voice sounds exactly the same and yet you feel like you’d forgotten the low drawl he always spoke in. 

“You should get that shit changed. It’s a shitty neighbourhood you live in.” 

He looks at you again and it seems to wake you up. You grab your bags and take them to the kitchen. You wrap your coat around a chair and sigh, hands rubbing at your face. Your hands shake, and you clench them tightly so he won’t notice. You walk back inside and Dabi is still sitting up. Like he’s scared to let himself relax.

You clear your throat. “Are- Is the wound okay?” You ask, voice quiet.

 Dabi looks confused for a second. “Oh. Yeah, s’fine.”

You nod. You haven’t moved from the entryway of the living room.

“The fuck are you standing around for?” Dabi speaks suddenly. 

Your eyebrows furrow at the tone of his voice. “Don’t talk to me like that. I don’t know what’s going on right now. Why- Why are you here?”

Dabi fixes you with a pointed look. He doesn’t say anything. You clench your fists tighter. He’s starting to piss you off.

“Well? You can't just, just break into my house whenever you want. I don’t know what you think this is.”

“God, I leave for two weeks and my roommate status is revoked?” He drawls.

“This isn’t funny, Dabi.” You scoff. “I’m not in the mood for your jokes right now.”

“You aren’t?”

“No.” You shake your head. “It’s been two weeks. You just left without saying anything.” 

“Did I owe you an explanation?” 

Your brows furrow and you scoff. “Well it would’ve been nice, considering you’d been living in my house for two fucking months.” 

Dabi just shrugs. And you want to throttle him and hug him and kiss him all at once. Instead, you just stay where you’re standing, crossing your arms. He huffs a laugh at your figure.

“I feel like a school teacher is about to tell me off.”

“Dabi.”

He glances at you quickly then turns away. It’s his turn to clench his fists, and you pale a little at the sight of smoke curling out of them. You take a small step back.

“Are you- You’re not here to-“ You don’t even finish you sentence but he rolls his eyes, frustrated.

“I’m not here to fucking kill you. I would’ve done that a long time ago if I was.”

“Then what? Why are you here, Dabi?”

Dabi goes quiet again and you seethe. He’s not fucking talking. Nothing of meaning, anyway. He’s just looking at you and it's making you more nervous and antsy than you already are. 

Just when you’re about to say something else, he rises to his feet. And in a few quick strides, he’s in front of you. You’re not short by any means, but he towers over you, the smell of smoke and cigarettes lingering on his clothes. His hands twitch like he’s about to reach out to you before he decides against it.

“I’m here because I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.” He rasps. Dabi speaks like the words hurt to get out, and he looks anywhere but at your face when he says them.

“I thought leaving would make me forget about you. But I can't. It’s like you fucking haunting me.” He laughs slightly but he looks slightly feral as he does so.

His hands reach up. They grip the edges of your unzipped coat and pull you closer. 

“Why are you trying to forget about me?” You mumble.

He shakes his head. Slowly, eyes screwed shut. “Because I know. I know you don’t- You don’t deserve this. You deserve a good man, baby. Not somebody like me.”

You want to tell him that you want him. Not someone else. But you can’t speak. He lets your coat slip down off your shoulders. One hand curls around your waist and the other travels up. Settling on your shoulder, fingers dancing against your pulse. 

“And I know that. And yet I can’t keep away.”

“You-“

“I thought about killing you.” 

He speaks like he’s talking about the weather. And that should scare you, but his hand is so gentle as it closes around your neck, so tender and you don’t think he could kill you if he tried.

“Coming back and setting this whole place alight with you inside. But that wouldn’t do shit, would it?” You swallow roughly and his hand moves against your throat.

“And then I tried to fuck the thought of you away.” The hand on your waist tightens its grip.

“But that didn’t work either. Every single one of them reminded me of you.” 

You shake your head. “You’re an idiot.”

He tilts his head. “Am i?”

“Yes. You don’t get to decide what I deserve and what I don't.” You frown. You reach up and cover the hand on your shoulder with your own.

“If- If I wanna be with you, I’ll be with you. Whether you think I deserve it or not.” 

His finger moves against your lips. “You wanna be with a big bad villain?”

You smile slightly. “You’re not very bad to me.”

Dabi sighs, defeated. “You’re so stupid, you know.” 

“Yeah, probably.” Your other hand comes up to grip the collar of his jacket.

He breathes heavily. “I don’t do this.”

“That’s okay. We can figure it out. If. If you want to.”

“And what if I don't?” 

You shrug. “I don’t think you’d be here if you didn’t.”

Dabi huffs a laugh. “Fuck. You gonna let me kiss you?”

“If I have to.”

And it’s not like how you imagined he’d kiss you. You thought he’d be rough and violent, but he’s so slow as he leans his head down and presses his lips against yours. His eyes flutter shut and yours follow quickly after, hand on his jacket pulling him in closer. And for a moment you think you should feel guilt, some horror that a murderer is kissing you so softly, but he sighs into your mouth and you don’t think you could care if you tried.

His hand curls inside your hair, tugging your head back to give him better access. He crowds over you, and the hand on your waist is hot as he starts moving with more purpose. He licks against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. His tongue tease over yours, and you feel the cool metal of a piercing and you whine, hands pulling him closer.

Your noise seems to awaken something in him. Because suddenly he isn’t being soft and gentle, and he pushes you back until you hit the door of your kitchen, and he’s on you. Hands lifting up your shirt, mouth pressuring hot, heavy kisses on your mouth, your neck. He bites hard and you wince, but he just grins at you.

“Don’t give me that face, you love it. Take this off for me.”

He pulls the straps off your bra as you reach behind you and unclip it clumsily. Dabi looks at you like he’s got stars in his eyes. He takes too long to travel the expanse of your neck, your collarbones. He takes his time before he reaches your chest, sucking marks into your breasts, and you moan as his hand reaches up and pinches your nipple.

“When’s the last time someone fucked you, huh? M’gonna ruin you for anyone else.” He breathes, tongue licking over your nipple.

“Dabi, please-“ 

“So pretty when you beg, baby. Be patient now.” 

He doesn’t stop licking at your chest, mumbling about how pretty your tits look, as he uses a hand to undos the drawstrings on your scrubs. He holds your trousers away from your body and you gasp at the heat on your legs as he burns them off your body. He grins, all teeth and stretching staples.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Not unless you ask for it.”

His fingers trail over the front of your underwear and your cheeks heat up, embarrassed at the wet patch on the front. He clicks his tongue, pressing down with two fingers and you keen at the pressure on your clit.

“All this for me? You been hiding this pretty pussy from me?” He hums.

You lean your head back and it thuds against the wall. Dabi slips his coat off and the t-shirt he’s wearing quickly. You let your eyes trail over his body, fingers dancing against the scar across his chest. He kisses you again, long and hard. 

“Want you to cum on my fingers, okay? Can you do that for me?” He murmurs, free hand curving against your cheek.

“Yes, yes, please-“ 

Your voice hitches as he burns off your underwear. Without warning, he shoves a finger inside of you and your nails dig into his shoulder, a curse leaving your mouth at the sudden intrusion. His finger hits deeper than yours ever have and he barely gives you time to adjust before he shoves in another. You can hear it as he pumps his fingers in and out, can hear how wet you are for him. You move against the steady rhythm.

“Such a slut. Look at you, humping on my fucking fingers.” Dabi grins and you face flushes and you turn away. He tuts, grabbing your face in his hand and turning it back to look at him.

“No, you watch. Look at yourself dripping all over me.” He breathes, kissing the crook of your neck.

You moan as his thumb circles against your clit. He begins scissoring his fingers, stretching your walls. You let your hands run down his body, smoothing against the panes of his chest. He just watches you face as it twitches the further he pushes, you face scrunching in pleasure. You keen as he hits that soft spot deep inside you and he looks like he’s struck gold, suddenly moving with more fervour. He puts in another finger and you shake your head, breathing getting heavier.

“I’m close, Dabi.” You pant. It’s been an embarrassingly short time but you feel your toes curl as he presses into you again.

“Good girl, you gonna cum for me? Gonna squirt all over my fingers?”

You arch your back, chasing and running away from the sensations. “Dabi- please-”

He licks a stripe up your neck. “Beg me. Ask me if you can cum.”

“Please, Dabi, please I need- I need to cum, make me cum.”

“Fuck, come on. “ His thumbs speeds up on your clit and your back arches as his fingers pump into you faster. He whispers sweet words into your skin, dragging you through your orgasm. You breathe heavily, leaning against him as you come down from your high.

He pulls his fingers out and you watch with lidded eyes as he sucks them into his mouth, tongue curling around as he groans at the taste of you. 

“Taste so good, baby. Now up. Let’s go.” 

He pats the side of your leg, gesturing for you to jump. You rest your arms on his shoulders, head leaning against his. You do and watch as his biceps curl as he carries you effortlessly, hands gripping at your ass as he enters your kitchen. You eyebrows furrow and you tap his shoulder.

“Dabi, my bedrooms down the hall, what are you-”

“Can’t wait. Need you now.”

Before you can protest he drops you and bends you over your own counter. You grunt as your chest hits the cool surface. Your skin welcomes the cool sensation because you're covered in marks, purple and red and indents of his teeth littering your skin. Dabi’s hands smooth over your ass and you yelp as he slaps it. He uses his other hand to grab both of yours, easily circling both your wrists in one of his.

“Been dreaming of this ass, you know.” He starts unbuckling his belt. You try to turn around but he pushes you back. “Always walking around in those shorts. Such a fucking tease.”

And when he presses his against you, you can feel him. Long and hot and so impossibly hard on your back, and so big. You have no idea how the hell he’s going to fit inside of you. Dabi notices the way your thighs clench and you can’t see the smirk on his face but you can hear it when he moans into your ear. So filthy. He sounds like a pornstar.

“You feel that? It’s all for you, baby. You put that there.” Dabi grunted. “And I’m- Wait, shit.”

This time when you turn, Dabi lets you. He looks pissed and you’re momentarily distracted by the sight of him with his jeans and boxer slung below his hips.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I was in such a fucking hurry to get here i forgot to bring a condom. Or condoms.” He frowns.

You relax. “Oh. It’s fine, I’m on birth control, you don’t need it.”

Dabi freezes slightly. “What?”

“I mean, I’m clean. If you are too, then yeah, you don’t need one.”

Dabi just stares. Breathing heavily still. You falter, thinking you said the wrong thing. “I mean, if you want one still I probably ha-”

He descends on you again. He kisses you desperately, both hands cupping your face as he presses you into him so you can feel him on your thigh. When he parts he pants for breath, turning you around once more, bending you back onto your stomach.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. Want me to fill you up, is that it?” He hisses as you grind back into his crotch. He delivers another slap to your ass, this time harder, hotter.

“Want me to fuck you until you’re dripping all over your own kitchen?” He laughs as you shudder, and you nod frantically. “Spread your legs for me. Wider, baby.” 

You comply shakily. You arch your back. “Come on, Dabi.” “Patience, Y/N. Don’t worry, you’ll come on this cock.”

And he lines himself up at your entrance. Dipping himself between your folds and dragging the tip of his dick, wet with his pre-cum, up and down your slit, gathering your wetness and spreading it around his dick. He spits into his hand, uses it to wet his dick before he starts pushing into you. The stretch is delicious, and you grip the edge of the counter as he pushes into you slowly. He shudders, cursing low under his breath. 

“Good girl, that’s it. God, you’re so, fuck, you’re so warm.” He grunts.

You whimper as he pushes himself fully inside you. You think if he was any bigger you’d see him in your stomach. He stills for a moment, lets you adjust to him. You can hear his restraint, hands so hot as they hold your arms back. He waits for a moment too long though, because you start wriggling, pushing your hips back.

“Please, Dabi, come on.”

His hands slide down your back to grip your hips. “What do you want? Tell me.”

“Want you. Fuck me, Dabi, please.” You whine. 

It spurs him into action. He thrusts into you, deep enough that it pushes you against the counter. You moan loudly and he groans, hands leaving bruises in the dip of your hips as he fucks into you harder.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s a good girl. So fucking wet.” He sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You feel your cheeks heat at the compliment. His thrusts were constant and so deep you feel so full of him. Sweat drips down your back and your hair plasters to your forehead. Dabi presses kisses down your back, hands kneading your ass.

“That feel good?”

“Yes, yes, Dabi!” You cry out.

“Gonna fuck this pussy so good. Nobody will ever fuck you like I can fuck you, you hear me?” 

He suddenly pulls out. Flips you around so that you’re facing him. You barely have time to think before he’s back inside you. Your hands curl around his neck and your face rests on his shoulder, mindlessly mumbling as he pounds into you. Dabi lets you lean against the counter so he can grab at your hair, pulling your head back.

“I wanna hear you, sweetheart. That bratty little mouth of yours.” 

“S-Shut up.” You breathe, relishing in the feeling on him inside you.

“Been waiting so long for this. For you.”

His praise becomes breathier, his voice stuttering as he gets closer. His finger comes down to rub at your clit, eyes shining as you writhe. No matter how you move he’s there, rubbing maddening circles against you. You moan louder than you’d like, and Dabi leans back, impressed. Kisses your forehead.

“Want, shit, want you to come for me again. Yeah? Gonna come on my cock?” He leans down and nibbles at your ear, voice vibrating low in his chest.

“Yes, I’m close. I’m close.” You breathe, hands scratching red lines down his back.

“Good. Gonna fill you up. Fuck you full of my cum until you can’t walk.” 

You nod, clenching down on him and he groans, low and long. “M’not gonna last if you keep tightening around me like that.”

He loses all composure, thrusting frantically as your chest moves up and down erratically. He kisses you, and you struggle to reciprocate with the tightening of your core. The rise in intensity has your eyes rolling in the back of your head, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you cum, and he curses and sings your name like a prayer as his fingers still work you. He thrusts once, twice and then he’s cumming and you’re thankful that his hands come up to hold your waist because you think you’re legs might give out.

The room is silent except for the two of you panting for breath. He rests his head on your shoulder, black locks tickling the side of your face. You reach hand up and you rub at his scalp and he sighs.

“God. Why did we do this in here? This is so unhygienic.” You huff.

Dabi just smiles lazily. Presses a kiss behind your ear and the side of your neck.

“You’re right. Let’s go shower. Together.”

“Fine.” You sigh like you don’t want to but you already feel heat pool into your gut.

“Good. Does this mean I can finally sleep in your bed?”

“Oh, shut up.” 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

guess u did fix him.. Dabi if ur reading this come home the kids miss u

idk I feel like Dabi wouldn’t be that rough in bed yk? Like I feel like his life is so violent he needs some break from it. Also this is my second ever smut BARE WITH ME if it’s bad

I’ve had the longesttt two weeks 😔 back to back uni and work so I will be having a break for a couple days, so enjoy this fic!!!

[cyberpunkhwx]

please make a san version of the Average Stamina? Pretty please but a little longer and After her first squirt San makes her squirt over and over?

Fuck you empty

Pairing: bf!San x fem!reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: pure smut, mdni, dom!San, sub!reader, fingering, oral(fem recieves), praises‌, pet names(love, babe, baby, darling), multiple cumming, multiple squirting, overstimulation, pretty quick ending and after care |let me know if i forgot anything|

Average stamina

A/n: atinys are hella kinky tbh. lowkey proofreaded~ pls ignore all the typos etc and let yourself enjoy the filth

You could say you knew your boyfriend of three years almost better than anyone else. From all he was passionate about, to dancing, singing his heart out and to being the best boyfriend the world has ever seen.

But some stuff takes three years to learn about

......

"Cmon baby give me one more, I know you can do it" He exhaled the words, barely audible. Only aving you coming down from your high wasn't enough for him, like he could even have enough of your pretty little flushed orgasm face.

"Sannie- please! Ahhm" you struggle again his bruising grip holding onto your waist, pinning tou on the mattress of your shared bed. Your hands move down to his bigger ones, not sure if you were holding into him for support or trying to escape the unwanted pleasure he was giving you regardless.

He rubbed his thumb across your soft tummy to comfort, while his other arms was busy mercilessly thrusting three fingers in your already soaking hole.

"Oh? Yes my baby, you can give me more, I know you do. Cmon, make your Sannie proud" He loosened the grip on your waist to let you hold his hand, before holding it tightly again. Not trusting your hips to stay put on its own.

Instead he moved his hand toward your lower belly, low enough for his thumb to now be resting on your puffy clit, rubbing circles on it to help you get closer, as if you werent already bursting wirh the pleasure.

"Feels good nah darling? You feel it too? The burning feeling right here in your little belly?" He pressed the same thumb onto your lower belly making you scream in pain, lifting your legs up uncontrollably, arching your back as far as you could.

Fuck his and his stupid thumb.

That's what you thought. But not exactly what you whimpered.

"Sannie- so close please- more-ah"

"Oh? Thought you wanted me to stop? Make your mind love" he said not hiding the smirk in his voice as moved his hands even faster if it even was possible. You could feel your legs shaking around his body as you kept on arching your back toward him, you body moving itself towards him, as if it knows your desires better.

"Sannie- cumming cumming, it's-cumming-" He moved his hands to a new angle, hitting were you thought he should've have, because the moment he did, you felt the wave of euphoria wash over your soul as if you could feel anything no more. As if your body went numb, you let go of everything except for your lifely grip of his hand.

"God damn my baby, you made a mess" you said taking his fingers out of your now freaking dripoing cunt. After not hearing any answers, he pulled his hand holding you, towards him, making your head face him, looking at his now wet lower body, mixed with his own pre cum, on his now angey red cock.

"You see this love? You did this, all this with thay pretty cunt of yours" he let go of your head, letting you crawl in a corner.

"We are you going babe? Are you gonna be so cruel to this pretty pussy? Look at it, it's yearning for more" He let his index and middle finger wrap themselves around sensetive clit, squizing it the slightest just to get your attention back to him.

"Hmm love? I can feel like beating for more, it starts to drip again, is it because of my words? Or because of my fingers working on you?" He kept his movement, frustratingly slowly.

"Sannie- can't do more-tired" you muttered, hips already shaking at his movement, trying to fine a way to escape.

"Oh baby, that's why I take charge here, yo can't make the right decisions after a few orgasm, tsk" He chuckled before continuing-

"You still have alot to give me my darling, I'm just trying to help you" He re-angled his hands, now having all fingers on your bare pussy, moving harshly to the sides, caging you legs with his much stronger ones.

You cried out his name multiple times before feeling the liquid dripping harshly out of your hole.

"Hmm, not quite there now are we love?" It was a theoretical question. No answer needed. He gave your over sensetive clit and few more rubs, as if he was enjoying this more than he's supposed to be. Maybe he does.

He moved his fingers, lower towards you hole, pushing in two fingers scissors you open, only for more than your cum to drip out.

"oh baby, your body if calling for me, gonna fuck you empty" he muttered to himself. He lifted your hips higher, placing it on a pillow nearby. Having fully acces to your little cunt. He moved his mouth to your clit, sucking in it with his whole mouth, while his fingers begun to play with your walls.

"Cmon baby, squirt it all on my face, let ir go and you'll feel better. I know best" He voice was muffled and so were your ears with the sound of your heart beating louder than ever. Everything felt so great and painful at the same time. You wanted it to stop and never end. Your brain told you that you couldn't take more while your body went limb in san's hold, trusting with your whole being.

"sannie, cumming" that was all you could say before abutting your mouth again, rubbing your cunt towards his handsome face.

"Cum baby, be a good girl" you let you eye lids close as you felt ridiculously empty, as if you were even lighter.

Suddenly you whined in pain as you saw your boyfriend slowly and so gently letting your sore legs now on the soft bit drenched mattress.

"Now that felt better, didn't it? He said winking right after. Running a hand on your body, giving a fast massage before he grabbing his t-shirt from the ground to clean both you and him.

" I think we'll need abit more wash clothes than this one" He joked, still having enough energy to move around with his naked butt.

"But no worries, I got us both"! He said showing you his dimples as if he didn't take the soul out of you.

Ateez masterlist

[princesssukunalover]

Partition

Nanami Kento realises his grave mistake of pushing his wife away. He'll do anything and everything to get her back.

Part 1

CW: Nanami lowkey being miserable, angst, mentions of divorce.

Part 2 of 5

wc: 1051

It starts off with remorseful gifts at your door and it's obvious who they are from. You refuse to even acknowledge your ex husband’s futile efforts to apologise. And after 2 weeks, when the entry to your apartment becomes cluttered with flowers in colours that you don’t even like, chocolates so full of sugar that you wouldn’t even lick them and cards that you don’t bother to open, you finally decide that you’ve had enough. You’ve had enough of Nanami’s weak attempts to win you back. Surely, 6 months ago you would have been gratified to even receive a single rose, picked from a bush on his way home from work, or any gesture that made you feel valued. But it took you less than a year until you asked yourself, ‘If he could not speak, would you still love him for his actions?’ And it took you less than a minute to realise that there were simply no actions that Nanami had done during your union that could prove that he truly loves his wife.

-

As Nanami is about to enter Jujutsu High for an important meeting, he is stopped by the abrupt buzzing of his phone. “I’ll be inside in 5 minutes.” He tells Gojo, who waves him off and goes inside the building, leaving the tall blonde alone. His heart stops for a moment, staring at his phone as your name appears on the screen. He answers it way too quickly. Nanami doesn’t speak. He waits to hear the sweet voice that he’s missed for these past few months. “Kento..” You start. He responds, calling your name. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.” He tells you. “And I wanted to keep it that way, Kento.” You sigh, causing his heart to drop in sorrow. He tries to talk but you cut him off. “Stop sending me these gifts. I want nothing to do with you.” You tell your ex husband. “I’m sorry.” Is all that Nanami can utter. “I mean seriously, did you think that some cheap chocolate, a waste of paper and roses that die in 3 days can undo the feeling of being neglected by the person you love most?” You question. “Is that all you think I am worth?!” You accuse him, starting to get angry and even a little embarrassed. Nanami answers quickly.

“No.. I know that wasn’t enough and I would never think that it’s all you were worth. You are worth everything to me. And I really never showed you how much I love you. I promise I won’t let it happen again-” You cut him off. “Kento, just stop. There’s no ‘again’. There’s no salvaging this. It’s over. You treated me like shit for most of our marriage, and now that you're gone, I’m doing better, Kento. I have a life now. I have a career.” You begin to explain how much your life has improved since the divorce, which he painfully listens to, the hole in his heart widening with each sentence. “It’s over.. Nanami.” You repeat before the call ends. Your ice cold tone haunts him; not because of the cruel manner that you’re speaking to him; not because you don’t bother address him by his first name; but it’s because in his soul, he knows that at some point in your marriage, he spoke to you in such a manner, and in his soul, there remains nothing but guilt and self hatred, for allowing him to lose the love of his life. 

-

Life for Nanami resumes after one or two months. His mansion that was once littered with empty takeout boxes is now looking cleaner these days. He’s built up a routine that distracts him from the sorrows of life. He spends his evenings alone, cooking meals that lack love and warmth, but it keeps him fed and alive, so he doesn’t give a damn. He spends his mornings working out on the floor of his cold living room, the same living room where you would make love together in the early start of your relationship. He ignores the pain in his muscles as he abuses them with every added kilogram of weight. It’s incomparable to the pain which he feels when he takes a glimpse of the wedding photos on his fridge that he refuses to get rid of. His friends wonder if he is some kind of masochist, who needs a constant reminder of the mistakes that he has made.

Every once in a while, Kento will go to a diner and treat himself to a warm and thoughtful meal. It’s one of the small ways that he can commit an act of self-love without feeling undeserving of it. Quickly, that self-love rots into self-hate as he looks up from his plate on a random Friday evening. His heart genuinely drops when he sees you walk through the door, all dolled up. Weeks of progress are undone in 10 short seconds as he scans your body from head to toe. It all comes flashing back. He remembers everything. He remembers the way he’d fuck you senselessly against the counter, against the dining table, on his bed, on his couch. He remembers the way he’d wake up next to you, watching how beautiful you looked in your sleep. And he remembers what he lost. And it is at that same moment that he remembers Gojo’s words, which echo in his mind. He needs to win you back. He’s going to win you back. 

Kento watches deliberately. It would seem that you’re on some kind of date. He wonders how many dates you’ve been on since the divorce. And although it’s not completely unexpected to him that you’re beginning to date again, he admits that it’s quicker than he would’ve wanted. You don’t notice your stoic ex-husband at first, as you greet the man that you’re meeting with, who kindly gives you a beautiful bouquet of flowers, which you are too sweet to admit, gives you some form of PTSD. After your first glass of wine, you finally notice that somebody is staring intently in your direction. As you squint your eyes to get a better look across the room, you’re met with a smirk, coming from your handsome ex-husband. Your chest feels hollow.

Comments, likes and reblogs appreciated <3 This chapter is just some plot..

[airybcby]

Is your top artist/song thing still open? Because if it still is, my top song is GUILTY by TAEMIN. Hehehe!

(also found out abt this bc you reblogged a post of mine teehee!! Thought it was interesting so I wanna give it a go!!)

it is still open! and omg!! that's so cool!

if your top song was GUILTY by TAEMIN i'd pair you with...

sae itoshi

જ⁀♡⊹｡° wanna take a bite

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event

♡ content — sae itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, lowkey probably ooc sae, manipulative(?) sae, reader and sae have CRAZY tension, implied situationship

♡ synopsis — sae itoshi is a calm man, but when he doesn't get what he wants, that can change.

There was something terrifying about Sae Itoshi, and it wasn’t his skill on the pitch.

It was the way he looked at you—sharp, unrelenting, and just a little bit cruel. Like he knew you didn’t belong here, standing in his orbit, but he didn’t care.

You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with him, not when you’d heard the stories of what he was like: cold, calculating, impossible to read. Sae Itoshi didn’t need anyone, and he made that abundantly clear to everyone around him.

So why was he here now, leaning against the doorframe of your apartment like he owned the place?

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he said, his voice low, almost bored. But his eyes—they betrayed him. They burned with something too dangerous to name.

It'd been a week since you'd last seen Sae anywhere outside of the soccer field. A week since you'd told yourself you weren't going to be his plaything, something he could have whenever he wanted.

“Maybe you should take the hint,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He smirked, a slow, infuriating curve of his lips that made your chest tighten. “You’re bad at lying.”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “And you’re bad at leaving people alone.”

He pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm rolling in. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as he closed the distance between you.

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing to you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your stomach twisted, the guilt bubbling up like bile. You hated the way he got under your skin, the way he made you feel alive and hollow at the same time. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to happen.

“This is wrong, Sae,” you said, but your voice wavered.

“Maybe,” he admitted, tilting his head as his eyes searched yours. “But you don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you hated him. You hated how easily he unraveled you, how he turned every one of your carefully constructed walls to rubble with just a glance.

But he was right. You didn’t want him to stop.

And that was the worst part.

When he leaned in, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath, you knew you were past the point of no return. His presence consumed you, leaving no room for anything else, and for a moment, you let yourself forget the guilt clawing at your chest.

Because Sae Itoshi was a mistake you were willing to make.

i really have a bad habit of making sae ooc i'm sorry

i hope you like it anyways!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[poppadom0912]

Hii! 🙋🏻‍♀️

I saw that you are accepting requests, can I request an imagine with Jay Halstead where he and the reader (a surgeon) don't get along very well and, as fate would have it, they both live in the same building. One night the reader discovers that there is a camera hidden in the lampshade that she got from a strange guy, so the guy threatens her and Jay protects her. 😅❤️

Sorry for my English.

Warnings: Stalking/pedo men, brief hospitals, small injuries, and swearing.

A/N: Now that my series is done, I can finally get to completing and putting out all these requests. I wrote this in school. And do not apologise for your English, it was perfect.

Life is stressful right now so I lowkey got carried away writing this because it's somehow nearly 3k words but please do enjoy this!!

You weren’t too sure when it all actually started but it was too late to reverse time now.

Growing up, there was no way to avoid the Halstead brothers because all the way throughout your childhood up until the age of eighteen, you all went to school together and outside, your mothers were near inseparable. You could never catch a break.

What made matters even more confusing was that you didn’t mind Will, on fact, the two of you were quite good friends. You tolerated Will and with both your combined loves for medicine, an inevitable friendship bloomed but even with this, you and Jay just could not get along.

The only time you ever found solace was when the two of you finally parted ways after high school. You remained in Chicago to become a doctor and later surgeon while Jay, he spontaneously decided to enrol to become an army ranger. Your shock could not be hidden.

With both brothers out your life, days were so much more simple. From time to time, you wouldn’t say it aloud but you missed Wil’s company but Jay, his absence almost made it as though he never existed in the first place. And yes, maybe that was a bit cruel but the genuine hatred you had at the mere thought of him or the sight of his face, it made you want to hurl.

And the rest was history. Even with the more recent parts being a bit more pleasant yet depressive, your pure hatred for him didn’t seem to wane.

*****

Fast forward a few years and this is how it all is: your father remained ever so absent, both mothers passed away several years ago, Pat died last year, you and Will worked together and you and Jay weren’t exactly civil.

Living in the same building, on the exact same floor and literal doors apart could only do so much damage.

Today had been a very, very long day. You had just been on shift for a double that had run over because of the complicated surgery that almost went sideways last minute. You were practically dead on your feet. You loved trauma surgery as much as the next trauma surgeon but you could go without blood and scalpels for the next few hours because sleep was calling your name like a siren song.

Upon Connor’s insistence, he drove you home because he expressed his fear of you sleeping on the train and never getting off.

Finally in your apartment building, you dragged your feet to your door, your keys almost missing the hole due to your sudden misalignment. Your mind was nearing haziness but with one final push, you were inside and collapsed on your bed.

Sleep was instant. It was expected but you also weren’t surprised when you knocked out and woke up randomly at two in the morning. You felt semi-rejuvenated but you could definitely sleep for longer.

Drowsily, you stripped out of your clothes, chucking them towards the basket before walking into the bathroom. Doing what you needed to do, you returned and searched for comfortable pyjamas that were good enough for this heat.

Standing half naked in your own bedroom in the apartment that you rented alone was a completely normal thing to do. Never in your life did you need to be paranoid or extra careful. You were in the comfort of your own home, so why was there the need to be riddled with anxiety.

Well, apparently you should’ve because as you pulled you cotton shorts on, rummaging through your draw for an oversized shirt, you caught a miniscule red dot. You were so tired you contemplated if it was a hallucination but a few minutes later, remaining in the same position, the nano dot was still there.

Diverting your attention to the suspicious dot, you threw on a random shirt but somehow, during the milliseconds your head spent under the shirt before it reappeared, the red dot disappeared.

Now you were on edge. Sleep didn’t come as easy this time.

In the morning, everything looked the same. Going around, you tried to look for anything that could’ve been tampered with but alas, everything was in tip top condition. Maybe you really were so out of that that you were delusional, it all really could’ve been a hallucination.

You had a few more hours before you needed to go back to work and considering the state of your empty fridge, grocery shopping seemed like a promising idea.

Your sweetening mood however quickly turned sour at the familiar sight of a certain detective standing down the hallway, walking in the same direction as you towards the buildings only elevator.

Sighing in disappointment, you readjusted the tote bag on your shoulders and walked ahead anyway. There was no way you were letting this man ruin your mood.

Being stuck in the elevator though, it did ruin your mood a little.

For once in your entire life though, Jay didn’t rile you up. He didn’t say anything nor did he even attempt to roll his eyes when he saw you. It was weird, he barely even acknowledged you.

And you hated to admit it, but you didn’t like it. As much as you despised the man, Jay acting as if you were a ghost was something that irked you. But obviously, you were never going to tell him that, it’d only boost his already enormous ego.

*****

“You look like a rat.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.”

You took it all back. Everything you said two days ago, you were taking it all back. Jay could rot and burn in hell and you still wouldn’t care.

Over the course of twelve hours, something must’ve changed because Jay’s renewed vigour was back and it was here to stay. You didn’t relish his silence long enough because the second he opened his mouth, your headache returned.

Next time, you were dragging Will and forcing him to escort you up to your apartment door because at least then he’d save you, he’d make this all much more bearable.

The sudden change in weather suited your mood, the rain mimicking your emotions that Jay was only half responsible for. The other half was a result of your newly achieved paranoia and anxiety that made itself known whenever you came home.

No matter where you searched or how many hours you slept, the red dot came and then disappeared again. It was annoying and it came to the point that you tried avoiding you bedroom especially as much as possible. To not be comfortable and safe in your own home wasn’t right.

Rolling your eyes, you fished your keys out of your bag and ignored whatever Jay was saying. You’d known him for so long that blocking out his voice had become second nature, it was something you did subconsciously.

You wished his apartment was before yours, that way at least you could have some peace but life worked in funny ways.

Stopping in front of your door, you were just about to unlock it when your body froze.

“What’s wrong?”

The sudden change in your mood caught him off guard, your frozen body worrying him slightly. He might’ve shared your feelings of hostility but you were his older brothers best friend, which had to count for something.

Following your line of sight, Jay’s eyes hardened at the unlocked door, a slither of light leaking out from inside as the door sat ajar. You definitely locked it this morning, there was no doubt about it.

Maybe you had the right to be paranoid. Perhaps you should’ve acted on it sooner.

Not wasting another second, Jay pushed you behind him and drew his gun. With his shoe, he gently nudged the door open and began surveying the apartment bit by bit with practised precision.

You hadn’t seen the man in action for a while now, it was weird to see him so proper and serious.

With nothing out of place and all valuable belongings safe and sound, Jay deduced that for now, things should be fine but if need be, if anything was out of the ordinary, he was the first person you called.

And for the first time ever in over thirty years, you made Jay a promise.

*****

You kept to your promise. This was a matter you weren’t going to mess around with, even if it was with Jay.

You had just come out of the shower, hair dripping wet, shorts and an oversized shirt on because despite the rain it was still humid and the summer heat wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Stepping into the dark room, you started patting your hair dry with a towel and walked towards the lamp so there was at least some lighting. A dimly lit room made you feel less paranoid.

It was upon turning the lamp on though did your anxiety peak. This new height it reached making it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden.

Without even thinking of the consequences, Jay’s number was the first thing you found on your phone, his contact name pressed within seconds of your discovery.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you forced yourself to move at the sound of the door. This fear was almost paralysing, you didn’t even know what to make of all of it.

“What happened?” Jay’s concern was immediate. All you did was call him and he came over without question. Your call alone told him enough.

You stared at him wide eyed, words lodged at the back of your throat but they wouldn’t go any further than that. Remaining wordless, you simply grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards your room and he followed obediently.

Your bedroom was now back to pitch black; you turned the lamp off straight away because the pyjamas you wore left little for imagination. That trail of thought made you want to be sick.

Jay stood beside you; your hand still wrapped around his wrist tightly while your other still held the wet hair towel that you probably should put away. He surveyed the dark room, taking it all in and trying to poke out anything out of the ordinary.

It was only when you tugged on his wrist, his head turning down to you before following your line of sight and pointed finger towards your innocent looking lamp that idly sat on your bedside table.

But it turned out to be not so innocent after all. Jay immediately saw the red dot no matter its small size, he saw it straight away and alarm bells went off.

Gently prying your fingers off his wrist, Jay holstered his gun and strode towards the lamp, tilting the lamp shade as he fiddled with something underneath. It didn’t take long before he stood up to his full height with a small black square in his palm.

This all-escalated way too fast for your liking.

*****

Jay refused to let you see anything from what he told you was a camera; he wouldn’t let you see it even for a price but he did briefly talk about what he saw in very little detail. What he told you was more than enough to make you want to bleach your body in a bath and move out of state to a place no one would know you.

Jay also wasn’t one hundred percent confident in letting you return back to your apartment alone. That’s how you found yourself wrapped in a blanket sitting cross-legged on his sofa, hiding yourself and your body from the world. Even with your shirt and shorts on, you felt liked dying at the thought of a man staring you down with intentions all but pure.

Gosh, you wanted to be sick.

Slowly sipping some water from a cup Jay silently handed you, you tried relaxing, rotating your shoulders to try release any of the tension but you failed. Fidgeting with anything was the only way you were able to not focus on the conversation Jay was having on the phone in the next room over. He was probably most likely talking to someone else from Intelligence.

The rest of the night, well more very early morning really, Jay explained the plan about how Intelligence were going to go about this but it would all happen in the morning at an actual suitable time.

With much bickering, Jay forced you into his bed as he took the sofa. It was weird that this was the most civil and even most nicest interaction the two of you ever had in either of your lifetimes. You wouldn’t tell him this unless under a life-or-death situation, but you kind’ve liked it. When Jay wasn’t being such a bastard, he was actually kind of decent.

Goodness, thinking about him was not something you would’ve ever thought of doing before yet here you were, thinking about your childhood nemesis at work.

The morning was relatively fine sprinkled with bits of awkwardness. Jay forcefully drove you to work when you insisted on going in today despite his attempts of getting you to stay home. If you tried and told Ms Goodwin the truth, she was very likely to give you the day off. Your stubbornness didn’t wane though.

You shift was normal, going from boring and mundane to fast paced just how you liked it. Nothing changed and it was relieving to be surrounded by familiarity and some sort of routine, it was a big distraction from the mess waiting for you at home. You tried keeping yourself occupied at every moment because any second you got alone with your deprecating thoughts, you were for sure going to spiral to a dark place.

And you’d been doing a great job at keeping busy till a certain detective walked in through the ED doors.

From the corner of your eyes, nothing about him looked off but when you squinted and walked towards him, you could make out a bloody gash poking out from his ripped jacket sleeve.

Now, Jay being hurt at work was nothing new. In fact, it was to be expected and you’d never been too bothered by it unlike Will was whenever his injured brother walked in so casually like it was another normal Wednesday.

However, you knew what he was doing at work today and your concerns peaked to such a height that Will had no reason to be worried anymore; you took it all from him.

“What happened?” You tried to remain somewhat calm, schooling your face as you dragged his non-injured arm towards an empty treatment room. Internally, you were glad Will was in surgery otherwise he’d be smirking and laughing like a manic at the sight he was seeing, a sight he’d never even envision in his dreams.

“We found the guy.” Jay ignored your question, begrudgingly sitting down on the bed, rolling his eyes when you wouldn’t let him get up. “We arrested him. Platt’s booking him as we speak.”

And just like that, all the weights pushing you down under the ground dissipated and you were beyond relieved.

You hands faltered as they went to grab some gauze, your eyes looking up to see whether or not he was lying but the soft smile spread across his lips, you didn’t need to question his credibility.

Without thinking, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and interlocked around his neck. Instinctively, you squeezed him a little, eyes shut as you relished in the good news. For a while, the world around you didn’t exist before it all came rushing back.

Suddenly, you abruptly pulled back, eyes wide in shock as your actions sunk in. Pressing your lips together tightly, you avoided eye contact and went back to preparing the gauze and butterfly strips, maybe even some wipes to see the real extent of the damage your stalker inflicted onto Jay.

Jay huffed in amusement and you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head. All of a sudden, you felt the need to smother his god forsaken handsome face-

What the fuck? There was no way you just thought that.

“He looks worse than me, don’t worry.” Jay started again, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke, his eyes not moving from your face. “He was being a bit of a dick so I roughed him up a little. This little nick is nothing.”

And for once, you didn’t doubt the truth behind his words. You fondly rolled your eyes before going to clean his bicep that was no longer covered by his jacket.

“My saviour.” You smiled placatingly, making brief eye contact before breaking it. “What would I have done without you.”

And for once again, there was no sarcasm dripping from your words. Behind them lay mostly the truth and maybe a hint of your typically sarcasm but without his help, who knows what would’ve happened.

“All in a days work.” Jay’s face didn’t change, his expression not moving a single bit. For a reason beyond your medical and surgical knowledge, you blushed, cheeks randomly feeling flushed.

Maybe now with childhood rivalry forgotten and shoved aside, things between the two of you could get better.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

Hii I was wondering if maybe you could write a Aemond Targaryen fic? Where Aemond is like Gomez Addams and he says, "Look at her --I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way --what bliss." With maybe even a taylor swift song? Thanks :))

EITHER WAY WHAT BLISS ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! It makes me so happy to know that you requested my writing! I love this idea! He does ( lowkey ) give off this vibe <3

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Tully! Reader 

prompt: Aemond is willing to die for the Reader if it means he'll get an ounce of her love.. ( The inspo was 'Gorgeous' by Taylor Swift. )

key: h/c = hair color, Dahlia = random servant girl, Evan Tully

word count: 2,000+ words

Brushing away a strand of white hair from their face, Y/n scans the rows of men, her eyes lingering on her brother Brynden. Her name day was supposed to be a small affair between her family and her bethorthal’s. But, the King was stubborn and insisted on having a Tourney at the very least. So, she’d be sitting through at least an hour of jousting, games of archery, and grueling duels. Not exactly what she wanted to do on her name day. But, what can she do? 

Picking at her bottom lip, Brynden gives her a weak smile as he adjusts his armor, her heart clenched tightly. He could barely hold a sword, and of course, he had to enter a bloody swordsman match. Feeling Dahlia nudge her side hard, she snaps out of her daze, her cheeks flushing red from embarrassment. Shit. Turning to look at Dahlia, she tries to smile as the black haired girl continues to ramble away about something about men and their ‘walks’. 

“I bet you my finest necklace, that knight. The one in black armor is really fine under that helmet.” Dahlia giggles, twirling a strand of her hair. 

“Oh? How do you know that? For all you know he’s got the face of a donkey. How good he looks in armor, doesn’t mean that he’s that good in regular clothes.” Y/n scoffs, following Dahlia’s eyes. 

“It’s the walk. Look at how he holds himself. A fine looking man walks with a little extra pep in his step. Like he knows that the moment he removes that helmet, girls are going to swoon over him.” Dahlia smirks, “Just like your little Prince.” 

“Just because you want to fuck my betrothed does not mean that I wish to hear about it, Dahlia.  Keep that talk for the other maids.” Y/n scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

“I am envious that you, little Y/n Tully, are going to call that man her husband. The ungodly things I would do make him look at me the way he does to you. He looks at you like you crafted the moon and stars.” Dahlia rambles, a dreamy look on her face. 

Scoffing at Dahlia’s teasing, she narrows her eyes at the knight, inspecting the black armor he adorned. His face was hidden under his helmet. Looking for some kind of hint of which house he was from, the only thing that was kind of a hint was the sapphire blue cape he was wearing. But, even then it could mean nothing. Tilting her head to the side, she didn’t like that the man was a mystery, why was he hiding? What was he hiding? Watching as he strolls over to Brynden, she stands up a little straighter in her seat, her jaw clenching. If he so much as touched a hair on her baby brother’s head, she’d make Maegor the Cruel seem like a baby compared to her. 

“Brynden will be fine, Y/n.” Dahlia reasons, but her voice is weak. 

“Brynden cannot even hold a sword upright.” Y/n argues, “Not to mention he’s got two left feet!” 

“Well you’ve always looked rather pretty in black?” Dahlia weakly smiles. 

“Dahlia!” Y/n scolds, shooting her friend a look. 

“I know! But, at least he’ll look good dying?” Dahlia cringes at her own words, “I don’t know! I don't really know what to say..”

Slapping Dahlia’s shoulder, the pit in her stomach only worsens, her face curling up in anger and uneasiness. She did not have any other siblings but Brynden. He was her whole world. Her baby brother. She had practically raised him! She was the one to teach him how to say his first words. She was the one who taught him how to walk. She was there to teach him how to handle a horse. How to be a just and kind Lord. How to be the perfect husband. She did everything that a parent would do. Except how to hold a sword. 

Picking at her bottom lip with her teeth, she slowly rises from  her seat, pacing back and forth in place. She wouldn’t be able to stomach her baby brother getting hurt. It’d kill her, surely! Feeling Dahlia grab her arm, she’s pulled from her darkening thoughts. The taste of blood floods her mouth. Shit. Wiping her bottom lip clean of blood, she’s aware of the eyes that now shifted onto her. The maiden of the day.  Aemond Targaryen’s betrothed. The sweet little Tully girl born with white curls. The Enchantress of the Realm. 

"Ocean blue eyes looking in mine I feel like..I might sink and drown and die.."

“If that was your attempt to make me feel better, it failed..” Y/n breaths out, “Perhaps, I should just talk to him about pulling out. It’s not too late..” 

“My Lady…” Dahlia tries, but Y/n doesn’t hear her. 

“Do not try to talk me out of this, Dahlia. I will not allow my brother to make a fool of himself, or worse kill himself.” Y/n shakes her head, “I have made my mind! Come let us⎯”

“It’s your future husband..” Dahlia speaks through her teeth.

“You're so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face..'Cause look at your face..gorgeous...” 

Furrowing her brows at Dahlia’s odd words, the black haired girl turns her around, forcing her to look down. Shit.  She finds herself staring down at Aemond, the mysterious knight in black armor. Her face flushes a bright red from embarrassment. The knight they had⎯Well the knight Dahlia was gawking at was Aemond. Staring at him with wide eyes, Dahlia nudges her side, trying to snap her out of her little daze. But, it feels like her tongue is made of lead. Looking him up and down, his long white locs are braided back from his face, but a few stray strands frame his face. There’s a small smirk on his face, as he adjusts his armor. Gods almighty, he looked gorgeous in armor. 

“And I'm so furious..At you for making me feel this way..But what can I say? You're gorgeous..”

“Aemond..” Y/n breathes out, “You're the blue knight..I..I thought you didn’t give a shit about Tourneys?” 

“I don’t. But, it would be a shame if I did not participate in my future-brides Name Day Tourney.” He smirks, licking his bottom lip. 

“I..Aemond, could you..?” She chews on her bottom lip, “Could you possibly? Please watch out for my brother?” 

“I will.” He nods, making her smile gratefully. 

“Thank you.” 

He kept his word, or at least that was what Dahlia was telling her. She hadn’t dared to open her eyes just yet. She didn’t not care if that made her a coward. She just couldn’t stand to watch the fights and not think about her brother while men pummeled each other with swords. Squeezing Dahlia’s hand tightly, she tenses at the call of her brother’s name and Aemond’s. Her eyes shoot open, her jaw dropping slightly. No. No. No. No. That couldn't be right! She must have misheard! Sharply turning her head to the fighting circle, she bolts from her seat, leaning against the railing. Her nails dig into the wood like a cat’s would. Her eyes are flickering between the two of them. 

One of them would get hurt, she was sure of it, whether it be intentional or not. Her breathing grows ragged, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She was afraid that it would jump out of her chest. Watching as they  raise their swords, she stuck in a trance as they slowly circled each other. Their swords collide, her eyes shutting tightly at the horrid sound of metal against metal. Biting her lip, she doesn’t know why her eyes peel open, but her heart stops in her chest as  she catches the sight of Aemond falling to the ground. His sapphire blue cape slowly turned red. She nearly faints at the sight of red, he’s bleeding. Oh gods..He was bleeding. 

“You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah..”

“AEMOND!” She shouts, the words escaping her lips before she can stop it.

“My Prince!” Someone shouts, their voice a blur in her mind. 

No. No. No. No. Watching with blurry eyes as Maesters rush to him, she wants to bolt to him, but her legs are frozen in place. Brynden drops his sword, the realization creeping on his face. Feeling Dahlia’s arms wrap around her, it seems like the Arena explodes with chaos in an instant. Everyone is shouting loudly. Guards are rushing around in every direction. But, throughout the chaos her eyes are on him. Her Aemond. 

“He’ll be okay…” Dahlia reassures, “Maesters are tending to him..” 

“Take me to him.” Y/n breaths out, tears flooding her eyes. 

“Y/n..” Dahlia nervously warns, “I..I don’t think we should. Not right now at least.” 

“Take me to him.” Y/n repeats, her voice more firm than before.

Shooting Dahlia an icy glare, Dahlia chews on her lip before nodding her head at the request, a nervous look on her face. What if it was bad? What if he died? Would Brynden be punished? Gods, how in the Seven bloody hells did this happen? Following Dahlia, she picks up her skirt, her eyes searching for the white haired man that was to be her husband. Pushing past frantic Lords and Guards,  it felt like an invisible force had her by the throat,  squeezing her lungs and throat with each step she took closer to a bleeding out Aemond.  

Seeing him laying on the ground, his chest piece was removed, his white tunic cut open to reveal the rather gnarly gash on his stomach.  Tears flood her eyes at the sight before her.  Covering her mouth with her hand, she rushes to his side,  her eyes scanning every little detail that she can. His chest was moving up and down, he was drenched in sweat and dirt. That was a good thing. Looking at his face, his eye patch was removed, his hair completely unbraided and spread around him like a halo. 

“Oh..Aemond..” She whispers, petting his sweat soaked hair. 

“My Lady, you should not be here.” 

“He is my husband to be, I will not be leaving.” She argues, turning back to Aemond. “Aemond, are you okay, love?”

“I am fine. Do not worry.” He grunts, clenching his jaw.

Staring into his eyes, she tenses up at the sight of his missing eye-patch. Fuck, he looked gorgeous with that scar. Looking up at her, he notices her attention on his face. Lifting a hand to touch his face, his face drains of color when he doesn’t feel the leather of his eye-patch. He had been purposeful in hiding his scar from the world. He didn’t want to be viewed as a monster. But, she looked at him with such softness in her eyes. Hunching over him, she casually places her hand over his eye, hiding his eye from everyone. Giving him a small nod, his breathing grows shaky. 

“You dodged his attack. But, not like someone as experienced with a sword as you are, would. Why?” Dahlia asks, narrowing her eyes at Aemond.  

“Look at her, I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way⎯what bliss.” He whispers, High Valyrian flowing off his tongue. 

“You are a lovestruck fool, Aemond Targaryen.” Dahlia scoffs, “I hope this is the bloodloss talking.”

“What did you say?” Y/n furrows her brows, “Dahlia..?”

“He didn’t want to risk hurting your brother. That he rather he be the one hurt and not your brother. Come, let us reassure your little brother that he hasn’t killed your beloved.” Dahlia lies smoothly, nodding her head at Aemond.

Y/n looks between Dahlia and Aemond unsure, chewing on her bottom lip. She didn’t know enough High Valyrian to understand what the two of them were discussing. But, she trusted Dahlia enough to take her word for it. Opening her mouth to speak, Aemond grabs onto her hand, stopping her. Looking down at Aemond, her cheeks flushing involuntarily, her heart was pounding frantically in her chest. She wanted him to keep on looking at her like that. 

“Go..” He nods, "I will be fine."