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namism · 1 month ago

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one too many | sabo

➳ categories: college au, friends to lovers au, female she/her reader, best friend's brother trope, light angst

➳ warnings: lots of drinking

➳ word count: 17.4k

➳ summary: A drinking game hosted by your friends causes you to evaluate your feelings for your best friend's brother.

➳ notes: this is an exchange fic for @justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms in celebration of #infixopmarch2025 @infixop! more personal notes at the bottom :)

➳ cross-posted on ao3

ONE.

Contrary to popular belief, people love to attend Monkey D. Luffy’s college parties because his tight circle of high school friends save the night with free food, drinking games, and comedic entertainment.

It’s no secret that the Monkey-Portgas residence has taken Foosha Village by storm because it’s buzzing with twenty-somethings every Friday night. You’re starting to think they’re pissing off the restobar owners down central street for stealing their most loyal frat boys and sorority girls, but you can’t blame Luffy for that. He’s charming, and his brothers are, too. Their energy is influential, drawing you in like a moth to a flame, contagious. Life is never dull with them around, so you find yourself, along with many others, frequenting their house often.

On days when Luffy isn’t hosting, he likes to invite you and his friends from high school to come over. He called this one in particular a simple get-together, a meeting with friends. Not wild, just chill. Naturally, he scheduled it on the day when his older brothers were out of town for “Seniors’ Night,” a mandatory event out of school grounds supposedly spent stress-free. Even then, all efforts at keeping the small gathering simple was lost once Zoro (certified rice wine lover) showed up with Nami (certified drinker) with a bag of alcohol squished in the backseat of Usopp’s Mazda.

You arrived at Luffy’s an hour early, so you witnessed your friends storm his home under the impression that it was an alcoholic party. As time passed, sobriety slipped from your grasp as you downed a bottle of who-knows-what until words came out slurred and conduct turned disgraceful.

The events that transpired from that point onward are incomprehensible.

“Drinks, drinks, anybody? Hey, would you care for a shot?”

“Stop it, Sanji. Leave the girl alone,” Nami hissed as the man tried to offer you another beautifully concocted drink. Upon her orders, Sanji retreated into the kitchen with a waiting tray, four—five?—shots into Jägermeister because Zoro challenged him to a drinking competition thirty minutes ago.

Nami relaxed into the cushion behind her and sighed deeply, her head buzzing from the alcohol she gloriously bought.

“Sanji! Zoro! You’re in the living room in the next two minutes, or I’m kicking you out!”

The following events are blurry, but you remember several things if you try hard enough. First, Sanji came back from the kitchen with a bottle of Jose Cuervo after Nami’s angry mandate; second, Nami unveiled a brand new deck of cards from her purse, a few of which suspiciously had an 18+ label stamped on the back; third, Luffy crashed your circle by barreling down the staircase in a yellow straw hat, a sign that he was already wasted; and fourth, Usopp cried into your side as the rest of the group realized that Nami was forcing everyone to a wild game of Truth or Drink.

You remember chasing a shot with ice-cold Sprite, deciding it was better to match everyone else’s drunkenness. A few rounds passed before you were chosen through a lucky spin of an empty glass bottle, to which Nami responded by shuffling the deck expertly and letting you choose from the display.

Afraid you would do something more than you bargained for, you chose the safe cards closest to you.

“Tell us which one of your friends’ siblings you would date… or drink the number of letters they have in their name.”

You don’t remember which one of your friends dared to howl aloud, but you recall Nami displaying an awful grin on her face, like watching you suffer was fun for her. Zoro erupted in genuine laughter, Luffy laughed through a mouthful of barbecue, Usopp covered his mouth in shock, and Sanji made a face of disagreement, waving his hands frantically in the air.

“Please,” he said your name, “do not say any of my brothers.”

You shook your head. “I don’t intend to.”

“Good,” he exhaled.

“Honestly, I don’t intend on saying anything.”

The small crowd erupted in oohs and ahhs at your display of bravery, surprised that you decided to drink x number of shots just to save face. You vaguely recall what they talked about as you chugged one shot after the other, but distinct voices at the back of your brain exchange a series of concerned mumbles that you can somewhat remember.

“How much is she going to drink?” Usopp.

“Not much. If I’m being honest, I don’t think she can handle drinking six.” Nami.

“She isn’t drinking past five because she emptied my Jäger an hour ago.” Zoro.

“That crosses out Nojiko and Ichiji. She’s two shots in.” Usopp again.

As you guzzled the third, the group waited for your next move. Stopping at three meant the obvious since Luffy’s brother Ace—hot, muscular, tattooed, and a little bit older—is the only suspect with three letters in his name. It was harder to tell otherwise. When you poured yourself another shot, your friends pressed on with concern.

“A fourth. God, she’s probably taking five,” Nami remarked.

Sanji was losing his cool. “I refuse to believe this.”

“I refuse your refusal,” Luffy joked.

“Tell me it isn’t Yonji,” begged Sanji. “Not Yonji, not Yonji, not Yonji, not Yonji—”

Nami shot him a glare, but his wish was granted soon enough. Silence fell in the room as you sat back on the armchair after having downed four shots nonstop. Sanji’s ears shot blood red as he realized that you weren’t hinting at his younger brother, but his older brother.

Vinsmoke Niji.

Zoro snickered. “You’re forgetting Sabo.”

After spending some time wordless, Luffy giggled. “Yeah, my brother! Sabo is a good man!” he uttered, happy to hear his brother’s name.

Sanji was unconvinced. Usopp shared the same sentiments.

Turning toward you, he asked, “Who is it?”

A hiccup erupted from the back of your throat. With every passing second, your vision began to darken. “I’m-I’m not telling,” you slurred stubbornly. Zoro laughed at your resistance, while Sanji broke down.

A few moments later, you blacked out.

The lights are out when Ace drives his Honda Civic into the parking spot by their front yard, which he finds rather unusual for a night like this. Luffy was supposed to host a get-together today—small and exclusive, sure, but Ace knows better than to expect any celebration thrown by his brother to actually stay that way. Luffy, after all, is an energetic twit. Plus, he scheduled it on a Friday night when most people at university are free.

Currently, it’s two hours past Saturday midnight and a quiet home is more suspicious to him than not.

Ace slaps Sabo awake in the passenger seat. Sabo stirs grumpily.

“What is it?” the blond mumbles, voice hoarse and laced with sleep. He’s been in that position for over an hour, just snoozing throughout the entire car ride home. That stupid Seniors’ Night robbed him of all his energy, so he passed out in the car as soon as he entered. Ace points a thumb past his shoulder.

“House is quiet. You enter first.”

“The hell?” Sabo whispers confusedly, not realizing that they’ve arrived home.

“Check if the coast is clear because I do not want to walk in on uni kids doing stupid stuff,” Ace reasons. “And can you bring my stuff inside while you’re at it?”

Sabo whines, but he doesn’t question it anymore because his feet are taking him to the front door in a matter of seconds, his bags and Ace’s slung across his body. With shoulders relaxed and eyes half-lidded, Sabo fiddles with his keys and unlocks the big timber doors to welcome the scent of old sweet home.

He acknowledges the scent of alcohol and the evident mess on the floor, but he walks past it nonchalantly, recognizing it as a typical occurrence at home. He checks the kitchen, takes note of the soda spill on the counter and the Dorito crumbs by his feet, then groggily saunters to Ace’s bedroom in the basement.

He drops his brother’s bags by the door before realizing that Ace is right about the eerie stillness. The house is dark, too. The only light comes from the faint glow of Sabo’s phone screen as he navigates the hallway toward his bedroom upstairs. Too exhausted to second-guess anything, he nudges his door open, drops his duffel bag to the floor, and collapses onto his bed.

But the moment his body hits what should’ve been his mattress, he screams at the bone and flesh he just collided into.

“AHHH!” he yelps, his body instantly rolling over to the side of the bed. His eyes shoot open as he collects himself, standing upright then scrambling to the light switch. He flicks it on.

“Oww,” someone groans pathetically underneath his sheets at the impact. Sabo freezes. He watches their hands clutch at the ends of his comforter and toss it aside swiftly.

He exhales a breath of relief when he realizes it’s you.

“What’s happening?” you mumble, eyes falling close no matter your efforts to keep them open. “Luffy? Sanji?”

“Uh, no,” Sabo answers. Eyes still closed, you stretch your limbs and roll over the mattress, getting comfortable once again in his sheets. “Um…”

“Wake me… in the morning… please,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. Sabo lingers awkwardly by the door as you drift back to sleep within seconds, completely unaware of his dilemma.

Normally, he’d let you sleep undisturbed. He’s nice like that, and he avoids confrontation whenever he can. Plus, he has a soft spot for drunk people as the token caretaker of his friend group on a drunk night out. Luffy is probably passed out somewhere in the house, too, snoring alongside his equally rowdy friends.

But tonight, Sabo is too exhausted to be nice. He’s not in the mood to surrender his bed, even if he could just crash on the floor. For once, he wants to be selfish—either kick you off the mattress or wedge himself into the tiny sliver of space you’ve left behind.

“Hey, wake up,” he says, gently shaking your shoulder. You don’t respond. “Wake up. Please. I need to sleep.”

He pokes your nose, your side. He even tries to tickle you—still nothing. After a few more failed attempts, he sighs in defeat and sinks to the floor with a groan.

Having surrendered to exhaustion, he turns off the light, digs through his duffel bag for a fresh set of clothes, and quickly changes before finally collapsing into the space beside you.

TWO.

Nami always insisted on cleanliness, and that involved keeping your shared apartment fragrant. It was her first complaint when she stepped foot in your flat—she thought she could brighten up the place with her aroma lamp and essential oils, something Zoro or Usopp never considered doing before she moved in with the three of you. From that moment onward, every waking morning at your four-bedroom apartment smelled of fresh bamboo or white tea, depending on the oil she chose to diffuse in her lamp earlier that week.

Apart from their clean crisp odor, Nami’s essential oils are pervasive. It wafts through every inch of the house, fighting with the aroma of grease and umami from the dishes that Sanji cooks whenever he comes over. The odor of fresh bamboo is simply something you cannot miss. Quite frankly, you love it. Even Zoro does.

That said, you find it strange when your senses come together and you smell nothing of the sort in your bedroom. It’s the morning after Luffy’s get-together—you’re aware of that, but for some reason, your senses perceive foreign textures and smells the more you stir. Your fingers, running across the soft comforter underneath you, move farther as you stretch your limbs awake. You feel the softness of the material until you brush against something warm, something soft… and flesh-like.

You force your eyes open.

“What?!”

The morning calmness is disrupted by your cry. You sit up from the mattress, the comforter falling to your lap as you move away from the sleeping boy next to you. Sabo, the middle child of Luffy’s confusing family, is crammed into the narrow space by the edge of the bed. He sleeps soundly in a fetal position, his right arm tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow. His bangs fall softly on his face, covering the scar by his left eye.

Your heart skips a beat.

You hop off the bed and slip out of his room. How you ended up in Sabo’s bedroom after last night’s events is a mystery. It’s equally mysterious that he (and presumably Ace) are back home from their trip. Against all odds, you fell asleep beside him. The only logical response at this point is to evacuate the premises before he wakes up.

You retrieve your items from the living room, thanking yourself for keeping them clustered together on the couch. When you pass the staircase on the way to the door, Ace zombie-walks from the basement and greets you with bedhead hair.

“Why are you awake so early?” he asks, leaning against the banister. It’s 6:00 in the morning, and last he checked, not a single one of Luffy’s friends wakes up at this hour.

“Why are you awake so early?” you return the question, much to Ace’s dismay. He frowns.

“Serving me attitude at 6:00 AM? Okay,” he says through a yawn. “I’m surprised you can walk just fine after killing your liver last night. That, and not having serious bruises after sleeping next to Sabo.”

“Hey, I’m no— wait, what?” You blink.

“Sabo used to kick me in his sleep when we were children,” he continues. His face contorts into bewilderment when he notices your discomfort. “What’s with that look?”

“How did you know I slept at Sabo’s?” you question, tone firm.

“Oh, that.” He shrugs, scratching the morning itch on his elbow. He explains ordering Sabo last night when they got home. “Figured he’d gone straight to bed, but I wanted to make sure. To my surprise, you were there with him.”

Yawning, he runs his fingers through his soiled hair.

“What were you doing in his room, anyway?”

You look onward with a troubled expression. What were you doing in his room? Your latest memory of Luffy’s get-together was Sanji bickering with Zoro over shots of Jäger, which you delightfully emptied after they abandoned the bottle. You remember playing a game or two with alcohol as punishment, but you’re not exactly sure what occurred. You headed to the bathroom somewhere in between, and you don’t recall much after that.

“I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully, yet ashamed. It’s one thing to get drunk, but it’s another to lose memory of all that transpired. “I know it’s a hard ask, but can you promise me just this once that you won’t tell anyone?”

“About what?”

“About me winding up in your brother’s bedroom,” you deadpan.

Ace thinks you're being a little ridiculous for freaking out over this, but he gets it. Among the three of them, you know Sabo the least, so the awkwardness checks out. He’d bet good money that Sabo had a near-death infarction upon seeing you passed out on his bed.

You like to think Ace thought about it for a while before answering.

“Sabo wasn’t drunk, you know. He’ll remember what happened last night.”

You groan.

“But if you’re worried about my brother conspiring against you for stealing 80% of his bed space”—you shove your hands into your palms—“I can assure you there is nothing to worry about. He’s not the type.”

Ace decides to be a role model and gives you an aspirin tablet to kill your migraine. Not long after that, you walk home and snuggle in bed.

You don’t wake up for the next four hours, even when your subconscious hears the tinkling of Nami’s keys unlocking the front door.

THREE.

Your university is located along busy Conomi Avenue, where locals and tourists dash in and out of establishments, stores, and embellished infrastructures. Along the main road stands an authentic Japanese ramen shop, which you and your friends swing by often after school.

On this particular day, you’re with the usual pack: Nami, Usopp, and Zoro. Sanji is away preparing for a cookout hosted by his adoptive father Zeff, while Luffy is somewhere over the rainbow. Nobody really knows where he is; Usopp’s brightest guess is Sanji’s place, probably snuffling all the food he and Zeff are putting out before the big event.

That aside, your friends have made it a big deal to bring up the events that occurred one night ago. Well, “friends” being Nami and Usopp—Zoro is just there to eat.

“Care to explain what that was about?” Nami asks keenly, swirling her drink with a metallic straw. When you display ignorance to some parts of their wild recollection, Usopp runs with you the full sequence of events that you wish never happened.

“I did what?!”

“Maybe I should have lied,” he mutters.

“God, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you grumble. “I didn’t actually do any of that, did I?”

“Winding up in someone’s bed completely drunk was already embarrassing enough,” Nami says, “but what did it for me was the fact that you drank four shots of Cuervo in the name of the very guy whose bed you ended up sleeping on.”

“I was not drinking for Sabo!” you protest. Your friends are unamused. “Don’t give me that look. I could have been drinking for no reason!”

“Yeah, totally,” Usopp deadpans. There is silence before he speaks again. “So, about Vinsmoke Niji…”

“I am not interested in Vinsmoke.”

“Right, so, you’re into Sabo.”

“I—” you stammer, your brain going haywire. “Look, I don’t really know where this is coming from.”

“U-huh.”

“All I did was play a game and drink a few shots, which shouldn’t mean anything considering I wasn’t in the right headspace.” Usopp looks at Nami with a raised brow, and that’s how they communicate their thoughts. They’re calling nonsense, but you object. “It’s the truth!”

“I think her reasoning is fair,” Zoro chimes in for the first time in ten minutes. He swallows a mouthful of tuna onigiri and leans into another generous bite like the glutton he is. Nothing beats an authentic Japanese restaurant smack-dab in the middle of tourist central.

“Thank you, Zoro.”

“But their arguments are just as fair.” He sprinkles grounded pepper into his ramen bowl. Your mouth closes in shock. “There is no forgetting what we witnessed.”

A stubborn back-and-forth breaks out in the middle of your lunch date. According to Usopp—backed by Zoro’s half-grunted observations—you were carried off to Luffy’s bedroom for a proper night’s rest after getting absolutely wrecked by Nami’s stupid drinking game. But somewhere in the middle of the night, you apparently woke up, wandered off, and insisted on crashing in the next room over, which just so happened to be Sabo’s, where you proceeded to sleep like a rock until he came home. Your friends tried to get you out of there a few times, but you had clung to the door frame and refused to be lugged away.

“Maybe I just found his bed more comfy,” you guess. Really, there’s no telling what was going through your drunk brain that night. Sabo is just Luffy’s older brother to you. Nothing more, nothing less. You don’t even talk often. While he has the looks as any of his siblings would have, you don’t like him the way Nami and Usopp make your feelings out to be.

Although Nami objects regardless. “That’s a little extra, don’t you think?”

“There’s nothing else I can think of that can justify what happened. I don’t like Sabo that way,” you say firmly, but end up mumbling toward the end. Nami isn’t wrong. It does seem a little extra. All your actions align as if to indicate some hidden feelings that you haven’t been telling anyone.

Suddenly, a realization dawns on you.

“Unless I do like him. Could it be that I actually like him?”

“Everyone thought you did. It seemed real when you were insistent on not telling,” she points out.

“To my sober and fully awakened knowledge, I don’t like that boy, thank you very much.” You shake your head, collapsing on your chair. “But it’s food for thought. Maybe I do like him, and I just don’t know it.”

Truth be told, your friends make sense to some degree. You find Sabo quite interesting because he’s easy to like, but not in the same loud, chaotic way his brothers are. Liking him platonically is more subtle, quieter, and in many ways different. He has a side of him that is strangely similar to his brothers, but he stands apart with his calm demeanor and thoughtful gestures.

Although it’s a problem now that your feelings are being questioned. You never saw him romantically. You think he’s nice, but you have never thought of him in that light. Sabo is just Luffy’s brother to you, someone you can depend on in the event of an emergency, but not someone you actively think of and speak to. Before going back to his devices, Zoro spews out some words of wisdom that he ought you hear.

“You’re rarely yourself when drunk, but alcohol imparts people’s deepest desires,” he says. “On one hand, it changes people. On the other hand, it tempts you to say the truth. Think about it.”

So you do. You think about it as the conversation fades into something else. You think about it as you pay the bill and leave the store well-fed. It’s in your mind as you go to bed that night, as you hop in the shower the following morning, as you get ready for another week of university, as you do your homework at the library. Zoro’s words haunt you everywhere you go, and it doesn’t help when Nami and Usopp tease you whenever Sabo’s name is thrown around. You can’t shake off the feeling that Zoro might be right.

That, or you’re just delusional. Feelings are weird. You might just be infatuated, for all you care.

You’re back at the ramen shop with Zoro a week later. You haven’t seen Luffy, much less come over at his place, since your schedules have become increasingly different over time. But if it meant avoiding any and all interactions with his brother by steering clear of their home, it might be for the better.

“Usopp wants a mild bowl,” you tell Zoro. Having known the owner, he volunteers to order takeout, while you sit and wait for him at an empty table by the front window.

You’re on your phone when you’re approached by the very person you don’t want to see.

“Oh, hey. Nice to see you here.”

You lift your head to find Luffy’s brothers standing before you. Ace, who greeted you out of the blue, is in a black hoodie and shorts like he came straight out of the gym. Sabo, standing behind him, is more well-dressed, with a backpack strapped to his shoulders like he just got out of the lecture hall. When Sabo catches your eye, you quickly look away.

“What are you doing here?” you blurt out, unintentionally coming off as rude. “Sorry, I meant, what’s up? Here for some ramen?”

“Yeah, I’ve had a tiring day,” says Ace. You don’t point out the odd fact that he claims to be tired at 12 noon, but you remember he’s narcoleptic. “Anyway, I’ll catch up with you later. I’m getting food.” He nudges Sabo behind him. “Sabo can keep you company.”

“Wait—” Sabo is pushed aside as Ace lines up two customers behind Zoro. Your eyes fall on the man standing before you, but you avert your gaze quickly.

Sabo regains his composure and decides to sit across you, paying no mind at how undeniably awkward it’s getting.

Your sentiments aren’t any better, especially when the man in front of you has been on your mind the past week. If anything, you find it more suffocating. Sabo doesn’t know, but he’s all you ever think about because you’re confused with your feelings. Your roommates don’t make it any better, either. Your conversation with them flashes before your eyes, and momentarily, you hope Sabo is clueless about your drunken antics.

“Where’s Luffy?” you ask, a poor attempt to relieve the tension between you.

He’s a little surprised, like he doesn’t expect you to talk to him at all. Even then, he answers your question with a rather short reply. “At home.”

“Oh.” You nod. He looks down at his lap, and you figure he’s on his phone. Your shoulders sag, and shame creeps up your spine. He doesn’t want to talk.

But you’re proven otherwise a few moments later.

“Ace mentioned something about you being anxious that I was mad,” he says out of the blue. He awaits your reaction, only continuing when you look up at him with parted lips and a creased brow. “If you’re worried about the bed thing, I hope you know it’s okay. I kinda thought it was funny.”

You almost don’t believe him, but he supplies it with a light chuckle, so you do. His words become even more alluring when the corners of his lips lift upward and his front teeth show. Sabo is cute, but has he always been this cute?

“Thanks for not lashing out,” you say. “I was drunk, but I was worried it was inappropriate. Not that it wasn’t—it was, since I snuck in your room and slept there the whole night.”

“No, I should apologize for forcing myself on the bed beside you. I was tired,” he explains. You don’t think he should apologize, but it’s a habit of his. Sabo doesn’t want bad blood with anyone, it seems. “If what Luffy says is true, you blacked out first before your friends did. There’s no need to feel bad about wanting to sleep on a proper bed.”

Blood rushes to your face, and suddenly, your cheeks are hot.

“Yeah…” you mumble sheepishly, opting for such a reply instead of something else. “Just so you know, that doesn’t normally happen.”

“I understand it was a fun night.”

You shake your head. “Well, yes, but I never get that drunk. I drink moderately, and I’m not a lightweight either.” Realizing you’re getting defensive, your head falls in shame. “Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t judge,” says Sabo. His tone is gentle like he means it, like he promises he isn’t judging. And the crazy thing is, you believe him. Relief washes over you at his reassurance, and you feel more at ease with your rambunctious display of behavior many nights ago. “I blacked out one time after Ace gave me Everclear. I know the feeling.”

A lighthearted laugh makes it past your lips, and for the first time in more than a week, you feel like you can talk to him normally again. It’s good to have brought it up, and suddenly you realize that he’s sort of confrontational, but gentle.

Zoro comes back a few minutes later with a paper bag of Japanese takeout. You don’t see it yourself, but you know he shoots you with an amused look when you seem to happily bid Sabo farewell. Even then, he doesn’t bring it up and just follows you on the walk back home, keeping his thoughts to himself.

FOUR.

From that day onward, you see Sabo more often than you expect. You cross paths on campus, sometimes on the way to class, and more surprisingly at random food chains along Conomi Avenue. It’s strange, and while it helps to have cleared up your awkward encounter, seeing him as often as you do now doesn’t help your confusing feelings. It’s especially problematic since he’s so nice to you, and you tend to be a sucker for courteous actions.

The next time you see Sabo, you’re at his house. Luffy begged you to come over because he’s been suffering the symptoms of food poisoning, which earned him a playful slap from Nami and a well-deserved lecture from Sanji. You decided to visit him with your roommates, and by the time you arrive, Sanji is already there.

“You’re going to die an early death if you keep this up,” Nami scolds him, pressing harder on the cooling gel on Luffy’s forehead. Sitting by the foot of his bed, your friends look at him pitifully.

“I’m sorry,” is all Luffy says, which sounds rather genuine given his pitiful state.

After some time, everyone shuffles out of his bedroom for lunch, leaving you to look after Luffy yourself. He falls asleep an hour or so later, and only then does Sabo decide to appear.

He approaches his brother, sits beside him on the mattress, and tucks the blanket under his chin. “He looks better than last night thanks to Sanji’s cooking,” he says, and you hum in acknowledgement.

“That’s great,” you mumble. Luffy hardly gets sick, but when he does, it sucks the life out of him. Thankfully, this isn’t your first rodeo with a sick friend. Living with three people and no trusted adult leaves you to just figure things out on your own. “How did he get poisoned?”

Sabo sighs. He stands from the mattress and crosses his arms on his chest. He tries to stifle a chuckle, saying, “He and Ace ate at a barbecue place when I wasn’t around. Lufy ate a bunch of undercooked meat and couldn’t handle it.”

Laughter erupts from the back of your throat, but you resist the urge in fear of waking your friend. Luffy shuffles in his bed.

“You can laugh,” Sabo tells you.

“I’d rather not,” you retort. “It’s already bad enough that he’s skipping uni. You should have more sympathy for your brother.”

“Hey, hey,” he says, looking at Luffy then back at you, “let’s tone down the accusations. And for the record, Ace had been making fun of him a whole lot worse.”

Sabo decides to stay at Luffy’s bedroom with you, oftentimes asking you things about his brother and commenting on nonsense that he thinks you would find hilarious. It feels strange to talk to Sabo this way after many years of just passively acknowledging each other, but his attempt to talk to you is sweeter than not. And for some reason, it makes you feel warm inside. Zoro’s words from a couple of weeks ago find their way into your brain, and for a moment, you’re distracted.

When you seem to have short-circuited, he asks, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you respond quickly. He nods. He inches closer toward Luffy and presses the back of his hand to his brother’s forehead. “Is he?”

“Not quite,” he says. “I’ll get him another gel pack. Could you slip into the bathroom and get some paracetamol?”

Upon Sabo’s orders, you walk to the common bathroom down the hallway of Luffy’s bedroom in search of the tablets. You open the medicine cabinet by the door, but the paracetamol isn’t there.

You look around the bathroom. Open shelves with toiletries line the back wall of the sink. At the topmost shelf sits a first aid kit, collecting dust. But there’s no stool in sight.

Standing on your tiptoes, you take your chances and reach for the kit, but it’s too far up. A grumble rips from your throat. Who stows away an emergency kit out of reach? Although when you stand back on your heels, you’re reminded that Luffy's brothers are unnecessarily tall on top of being bad organizers. Clearly, Sabo didn’t think your job through.

Slowly, you hoist yourself up on the small counter space by the sink. You kneel, but the marble hurts your kneecaps. You recoil backward before trying again.

That’s when Sabo comes in.

“Hey, I got—”

In a panic, he enters the bathroom and drops the pack of cooling gel on the counter to redirect his hands on supporting you from behind. His right hand clutches your hips, the other the back of your thighs. His touches are light and delicate, done out of courtesy and fear that you might fall, but it makes you somewhat dizzy.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, and slowly, you descend the counter with his help, even if you don’t need it. Sabo reaches for the kit and apologizes for its odd placement. “I’m guessing Ace put that there.”

“He probably did when he used it some weeks ago. He misplaces things often,” he explains. “You sure you’re okay?”

You appreciate his concern, but your stomach flips like you’re conflicted. Sabo doesn’t miss the way your lips purse tightly, a subtle sign that he should ignore, but instead chooses to address in an equally subtle gaze of concern.

“Seems A-okay,” he says. “We should head back.’

When you come back to Luffy’s bedroom, Usopp is already there. You throw him the first aid kit, which he catches, and pass down the duty before finding an excuse to leave, the events just a few moments before replaying in your head.

Sabo doesn’t question it. He just lets you.

A few days later, however, you see him again.

This time, you’re back at the ramen shop from a few weeks back, but you’re alone. When you enter, you notice him in the same circumstances. Ace and Luffy aren’t around.

It’s you who approaches him first, figuring there’s no point in trying to avoid him. Not that you have a proper reason to begin with—you spent some time reflecting on his actions at Luffy’s bedroom the other day, and after much contemplation, you concluded that you were just delusional. Sabo is a nice man. He likes to help people and he smiles at everyone often. He doesn't want bad blood, so he has a habit of apologizing. Most importantly, he’s just well-mannered.

Avoiding him makes you the problem, and you don’t want that.

“Hi,” you greet simply as you approach him by the counter, where he claims a bag of packaged ramen. He returns your greeting with his own, coupled with a smile that stretches on his lips. He asks where your friends are. “Half of them are in class. Zoro is taking a nap.”

“That goes the same for Ace. He won’t be waking up until evening,” he says in a joking manner. He nods toward the cashier. “Ordering something?”

“Just a quick meal before I head to the library,” you reply. “Are you a regular?”

Sabo looks down at the paper bag of food in his hands and cutely chuckles to himself. “Caught me red-handed? I come here often to buy their ramen.”

“Just like Zoro. Do you like Japanese food?”

“I think the cuisine is great, ramen most especially,” he says. It’s quiet for a moment until he realizes you’re there to dine, not to order takeout. An idea crosses his mind. “Can I sit with you?”

“Oh,” you stutter, “but I thought—”

“This? Nah, it’s for Ace,” he says before you can even finish your sentence. He’s lying, but you don’t look convinced, so he takes it up a notch. “He ordered a bowl with ghost peppers since he’s crazy like that. He said he couldn’t come since he was, uh, with friends… but he’s asleep now, so I’m in no rush to bring this to him.”

While Sabo isn’t a good liar, you decide to just nod and pretend to believe him. The takeout ramen in the paper bag is obviously his, but whatever his reasons are for lying, you shrug them off and instead appreciate his kindness.

You’re seated across him some time later, steaming hot bowls of noodles placed in front of you. Sabo offers you the first bite, and conversation flows naturally from there.

You ask how Luffy’s doing, and he laughs. “He’s somewhat in a predicament,” he tells you. Luffy’s been better since you last visited him, but as a precautionary measure, his grandfather imposed a no-meat ban for two weeks. In true Luffy fashion, he hasn’t followed it one bit, but Sabo stresses that he’s been looking after his brother’s diet to counterbalance his stubbornness.

“Your family is something else,” you remark.

“It runs in the blood,” he says, not long before he corrects himself. “Their blood. I’m kinda just there. I prevent them from doing dumb and dumber stuff, like a mediator.”

You hum over a mouthful of noodles, then you shake your head. “You’re blood-related at this point. You act like your brothers more often than you think.” But you’re more tolerable. And gentler.

“Do I?” You nod. “Guess they’ve infected me. I would’ve turned out differently if it weren’t for them.”

“It might have been for the better,” you say after much internal debate. As far as your memory goes, Ace and Luffy are half-brothers, while Sabo is adopted. It was something along the lines of being disowned and left to fend for himself at a young age, which explains the visible scar on the left side of his face. You don’t know much beyond that, but you’re aware it was rather tragic. No child deserves to go through what he did.

“You might be right.” Sabo is surprisingly not offended or hurt that the topic shifted to his past. He figured you knew—most likely from Ace—but he trusts you with that sensitive knowledge, so it’s not a big deal. “Speaking of Luffy, he’d like to say thank you for taking care of him. He wants to host another party to show his gratitude..”

“I’m just glad he’s recovered,” you say. Food poisoning sucks. It sucks even more when you’re a massive foodie like Luffy. “When is it?”

“No clue. But if I were to guess, probably within the next three weeks.” Sabo has heard of the undergraduates’ suffering because the semester is ending in a month. He’s a senior, so his semester ended earlier than Luffy’s and his third-year friends. Sabo knows you’re a third-year yourself, so you’re in the same situation right now.

You note down the date in your head, then you joke about your wariness of Nami, her drinking game, and the presence of strong alcohol in this upcoming party. Sabo laughs with you, but he’s confused.

“Nami’s drinking game?” he asks, reaching for the chili bottle in front of you. Without a second thought, he drizzles his entire bowl with a layer of chili flakes. “What’s that about?”

“Well, if you remember Luffy’s so-called get-together a few weeks ago”—you grab a bottle of condiments and sprinkle a generous amount on your bowl—“I got totally wasted. It turns out that Nami, my dearest friend, decided it was fun to play this game, where you basically—”

You stop yourself.

Nami’s drinking game. Everybody getting themselves drunk through many rounds of Truth or Drink. You downing four shots because your subconscious just felt like it, not because you were intentionally naming one of your friends’ siblings in response to the prompt you drew.

Your friends poking fun at you for having feelings for Sabo.

Sabo doesn’t know what happened that night. The way he curiously questions you proves it. He doesn’t know about Nami’s game and the cause of your blackout. All he knows is that you drank one too many shots on a fun night with your friends, which caused you to drunkenly stumble into his bedroom and snooze there for the rest of the night until he came home.

Sabo finds your silence uneasy. Chewing on a mouthful of noodles, he asks what’s wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you reassure him, but it comes out a little shaky, like you’re hiding the fact that there is something wrong.

Sabo decides to ignore it. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“Well…” you stutter, eventually becoming speechless, winding up wordless. You stuff some of the noodles in your mouth and chew on it aggressively. Sabo narrows his eyes at you, and something clicks inside his head.

“Is it a secret? Something I can’t know?” he asks.

“Pretty much,” you say truthfully.

“I’m guessing it has something to do with why you blacked out.” And why you ended up in my bed. He thinks. “Was it something that happened during the game?”

You’re sweating buckets, and it’s not because of the malfunctioning AC within the shop. You’re incredibly nervous, and Sabo notices it as you look down at your bowl and keep eating.

“You’re easy to figure out,” he teases.

“I’m not,” you defend.

He nods. “Well, does Luffy know what happened?”

“Yes?” you answer in a questioning tone. “Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?”

As you look up from your ramen bowl, you see him holding a stupidly arrogant smirk on his face. You almost drop your chopsticks. You’ve been fooled.

“You are not going to ask Luffy what happened.”

“I’m sure it’ll reach me either way,” he teases. You whine in your seat, face falling into your hands. “Hey, if it’s just an innocent drinking game, then what’s the harm?”

You groan. You just dug your grave. You tried to run away, but you were backed into a corner at the last second. “It wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be, but there are some things that need to be kept buried. That event is Exhibit A.”

Sabo hums to himself, thinking deeply. He tries his hardest to guess what could have possibly occurred that night that makes you so uptight about keeping your mouth shut, but he ends up empty-handed. If he truly is curious, Luffy is his best source.

In the end, Sabo decides to be a good friend and respect your privacy, but his curiosity doesn’t leave as he continues to dwell on it for the next few minutes. Out of keen observation of your resistance, he asks something even he was surprised by.

“Does it have anything to do with me?”

You choke on your noodles. Your life flashes before Sabo’s eyes and in a matter of seconds, he’s up and standing, fetching you a glass of water from the self-service station. When he comes back, you’ve calmed down.

“I’m sorry!” he cries as he watches you drink the very last drop of your glass. Although his comment was nothing but a joke, it was truthfully riddled with narcissism, and you were probably taken aback by his prideful confidence. Stupid Sabo. He thinks to himself.

“It’s okay!” you tell him weakly, your airway relaxing with the subtle burn. Sabo apologizes for the nth time, and once he’s convinced that you’re okay, he shifts the conversation elsewhere.

But for some reason, his gut tells him that he was right.

The next two weeks pass by in the blink of an eye. You’ve been working yourself to the bone that you’ve forgotten how it feels to sleep on your bed. Your friends aren’t doing any better either; Nami has been working on a thesis proposal, Usopp on an architectural build, and Zoro on a paper debunking a mathematical theorem (“Nerd activities,” you once told him). As the semester comes to a close, you’ve finished the bulk of what has to be done before finals, so you’re now working on the less important matters (that are honestly quite important on their own, but less important than your other tasks).

You’re cooped up in the library to get them done, but as the clock strikes six in the evening, your body relaxes into your seat, your shoulders sagging in the process. Tiredness overwhelms your body, your energy expended after working all day. The paper you’ve been writing is nearly done, but you can’t find the brain power to finish it tonight.

“Somebody’s in a slump.”

You raise your head at the sound of Sabo’s voice. He stands before you in his usual get-up, well-dressed and presentable like he normally is. Unlike your pitiful self, his eyes are full of life, his face full of color. Clearly, he’s been stress-free. You try not to think about how tired you look, and instead acknowledge his presence.

“Up to something tonight?” he asks.

“Just trying to get this paper done.” He looks down at the mess you call your workspace, and his eyes flit to the many drafts and sticky notes you have on the table. “It’s for an elective. ECON 185. Not my strongest suit, so I’ve been fighting for my life.”

He nods. “‘Law, Economics, and Public Policy.’ It’s a tough elective if you don’t major in it.”

“It was the last open class left. Everyone else took the easier ones.” Your nose scrunches up at the bitter memory. You’re always unlucky with selecting free electives—you eventually just take what you can get when the promising classes are already full. “What have you been up to?”

“Helping Luffy with a project,” he answers. “Says he has to interview me for something. I dropped by to work on it since it needs a little bit of research. Involves local policies and all that boring stuff.”

Your eyes light up at the mention of your friend, and at that moment, your face regains color.

“Right! You major in diplomacy, don’t you?”

A few heads a couple tables away turn toward you, and you shrink into your seat. Sabo contains a chuckle and presses a finger to his lips, his teeth showing behind a grin.

“I do International Relations,” he whispers. A smile makes its way onto your face as you realize the gold mine of knowledge in front of you. Sabo can probably lend a hand or two with this godforsaken paper you’ve been working on.

You tell him this, and like the kind man he is, he agrees to take a look.

“Yeah? What’s it about?” He rounds the corner and drags an empty chair from the table across you to sit at your table. You scoot over to the side, but even with the large space the library has to offer, he decides to sit quite close. You note the proximity he’s subjected the both of you to, but you don’t dwell on the thought.

“Um, about international policies… and other stuff,” you tell him as you shuffle through your handwritten drafts. Sabo observes them from the corner of his eye. “Part of it is a case study, and the other part is somewhat subjective. It’s a final assessment, so you can imagine the extra instructions.”

You show him your working draft, a 12-page long essay formatted in Times New Roman 12 and correctly cited Chicago footnotes. Sabo is impressed by your progress, and with that, he’s convinced you don’t even need any of his help.

“It’s bound to get longer,” you say. “I’m 90% done, but it’s due in two days and I haven’t reviewed for a final. I’m not making that deadline without sacrificing many hours of sleep.”

“This calls for help then,” he says. He takes your latest working draft at the top of the pile and skims through the first couple of paragraphs. He reads them silently, his eyes scanning every word, every letter, every punctuation that you’ve inked down on the pages. You sit in silence as you await his remarks. “Looks pretty good to me. Do you have an outline?”

The next hour is spent on Sabo overlooking what you’ve written with the occasional questions on your work. You crunch a few concluding paragraphs in between his silent readings, your eyes focused on the laptop in front of you as you digitize your work. Your shoulders sag, relaxed. The load of stress disappears from your body. It feels good to be supported.

“Huh?” Sabo whispers to himself some time in between, immersed in your writing. You look up from your screen. “Oh.”

“Yeah?” you ask softly, but he doesn’t reply. He keeps his head down, eyes trained on the draft before him. He continues to read through it, unbothered.

You debate asking again, but you don’t. Sabo doesn’t seem to notice anything else, his attention all drawn to the words written before him. At that moment, your fingers rest on your keyboard, and you watch him silently.

He leans on the table, his cheek resting on the palm of his propped hand. Locks of his blond hair fall on his face, now longer than before. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this up close. He’s pretty. Gorgeous, even. You found him cute just a few months ago, but it feels different now. He feels different now. For some reason, everything is.

What changed? It’s a question that comes from a place of unknowing. You’ve grown accustomed to seeing him so often that it might just be the answer, but that doesn’t explain your newfound fondness for his looks, out of all things. Pressing your lips inward, your thoughts jumble with the feelings in your heart, and you’re distressed.

Do I like him?

It feels almost wrong to think that way. You don’t know if it’s a claim you should be making. Your feelings tell you it’s true, but your brain says otherwise. Maybe you’re infatuated with the thought of him as you lack enough reason for how you feel, but that thought is only equally troubling because it feels wrong, too.

Your laptop enters sleep mode, and you realize you’ve been pondering for far too long. Sabo is on the last page of your draft, just a few paragraphs away from your concluding section. You tune back into your work, your fingers flying once more across your keyboard to distract yourself from your inner dilemma.

“You’re a great writer,” he says after reviewing your work the second time. “I like your voice. It’s clear. You don’t have to tweak anything else other than, well, finish the essay.”

Warmth simmers at the pit of your stomach, but you hide it behind a nervous laugh. “You’re sugarcoating it.”

“Does it sound like I am?” He tilts his head toward you, and you catch his eyes—round, black, and gentle. It knocks the wind out of you, and it doesn’t help the warmness of your insides.

“It,” you stutter, “it does.”

He smiles. “Please, take it as a compliment. I meant it.”

Staring becomes too much. You avert your gaze and turn to your drafts before you, shuffling through them in a make-pretend excuse for looking away. God. You’re a mess.

And just like before, Sabo notices. Your panic is evident to him. Beyond that are other things he’s noticed the more he lingers around you—how you get flustered, how you think before acting the way you do, how you move with bursts of confidence before thinking deeply again. You don’t do too well at hiding, he thinks.

“Your observance is only limited to me and Luffy though.”

Sabo shakes his head. A chill runs down his spine. Ace haunts him at untimely places.

While you busy yourself with writing your paper, he fishes his laptop from his backpack and gets some work done himself. The next hour is spent in silence, but Sabo wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I should get you something to drink.”

Your ears lift at the voice that disrupts your quietude. Sabo speaks to your right, having changed positions half an hour ago because his laptop died on him and you were closer to the charging port than he was. You roll your head to face him, but you don’t lift it from your arms, your body slumped into the table to get some rest.

“I’m okay.”

“You seem tired.”

“Just haven’t been getting enough sleep, that’s all.” As if to prove a point, a yawn forces its way past your mouth, your eyes shutting close momentarily. You look away out of courtesy and apologize.

“Yeah, I’ll get you something. Is water fine?”

You shake your head stubbornly, but Sabo resists just the same. Grabbing his wallet, he stands from his seat, although you stop him before he could go any further.

“I’ll come with you.”

That’s how you end up in the convenience store just across campus. Walking does you a great deal as sleepiness disappears from your body, only to be replaced with fuel as you take a few sips of an energy drink Sabo insisted on paying for.

When you meet him at the far corner of the store, he’s two hands deep into the ice cream freezer. Packaged cones line the first rows with the larger tubs occupying the back wall. He grabs two cones, one of them a flavor you like, and hands it to you.

“How did you know I like this?”

“Oh,” he says, but it’s met with a couple seconds of silence as he slides the freezer close. “You talked about it once.”

“I did? When?”

“Well,” he says, “you might have been drunk when you did. It’s a distant memory. Kinda hazy from my head, to be honest.”

You find it strange. Even your roommates wouldn’t know what ice cream flavor you would pick—it’s kind of just a random background detail that you don’t speak of. Sanji, out of all people, would probably be the only person to know. Still, you don’t press on. Maybe you really did overshare once.

“Hey, check this out. It’s a card game.”

Your eyes drift to several stacked cardboard boxes on the top shelf of the miscellaneous section. Your eyes widen by surprise.

“It’s a drinking card game,” you deadpan, grabbing a box and reading the labels. The memories from many weeks ago flood your head. Your nose scrunches up irksomely. “I’m not fond of this game.”

Chuckling, Sabo grabs a box of his own and he reads through it. “Why not?” he asks, but he remembers eventually. “Ah, I see. It was that small gathering, was it?”

“I don’t even want to remember what happened then,” you say, rolling your eyes. Sabo laughs at your misery, but it’s playful and not condescending.

“You should get back at your friends for that.”

“How I wish. Revenge sounds hellish when it comes to those dorks,” you say.

“I figured— wait a sec.”

You look at him.

“You know, I never got to hear what happened during that game,” he begins. You shake your head, looking away in a muffled groan. “Wow, did you just groan?”

“You’re persistent,” you remark.

“Please, it couldn’t have been that bad!” he exclaims. You look at him, unamused. “Oh, come on.”

You shake your head, lips sealed tight. Sabo can’t know. He can’t. Not when your feelings are still jumbled, not when you still haven’t figured out if drinking to his name meant anything. You haven’t had the time to reflect on it. All you know is that you like being around him, and you enjoy seeing him. It’s complicated.

“I’m the most curious of the bunch.” He places your box back on the shelf after mentally taking note of its name. “So? Do you really not plan on telling me?”

Grinning wildly, Sabo pokes your side a couple of times to elicit a response. You almost break, you’ll give him that, but you stay true to yourself. You can’t admit something so hastily. You need more time to think.

“I’ll tell you when I’ll tell you,” is all you say.

“Alright, alright. I’m just teasing.”

“You say that only to ask again a few hours later,” you tease back. He laughs. If you can’t share the truth behind that game, then he’ll just settle for the many jokes you’ll milk from it. This is fine with him. Getting to laugh with you is enough.

“No, no, I won’t. You don't have to worry about that.”

“Sure I don’t,” you reply sarcastically. You grab the ice cream cones from his hands and skip to the counter, leaving him down the aisle. “But I know you will.”

When you disappear into the next aisle, Sabo giggles softly before reaching for the box of playing cards in his pocket, tucking it up his sleeve, and heading to the counter before you do.

FIVE.

Luffy’s party, as usual, is a fun mess.

“Why is there a flamingo floatie on the roof?” Usopp asks when they arrive at Luffy’s home for the semester-end party he and his brothers have been planning. It was initially Luffy’s “thank-you” party for taking care of him when he was sick, but word somehow got out and everybody else showed up. Nami, tonight’s designated driver, steers Usopp’s car toward the curb and parallel parks with ease.

“People are passed out yet it’s still 9 o’clock in the evening,” you point out as you check your phone screen. You and your roommates file out of the car together and walk up the front door.

“Yeah, well,” Usopp says as he spots a guy straight-up drunk, face planted in the grass of Luffy’s lawn, “that was you two months ago. Can’t really criticize now.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut it.”

Around three weeks have passed since you’ve written your essay and you have survived your finals for the most part. Many days were spent cooped up in the library to get things done, oftentimes with the help of your friends, but you’re one step closer to freedom now as the school year comes to a close. Just a few things here and there for clearance is all you need to take care of, which shouldn’t take long if you tend to them swiftly.

But for now, you want to rest. Part of that is letting yourself loose at Luffy’s party with some drinks. Nami brings up the idea of another drinking game, but you reject her invitation right away, followed by a firm announcement of your abstinence for the next two months.

As soon as you enter Luffy’s home, your eyes scan the room. You squeeze in between hot bodies on the makeshift dance floor, excusing yourself when you get too close. You search for a particular blond. Your eyes narrow at the sea of people, your irises dilating under the faint light. To your dismay, he isn’t to be found.

“Where did you go? You got lost.” Zoro gently tugs the fabric of your top as he stands close to you. The music muffles his words, so you lean forward.

“I was looking for Luffy,” you lie. He nods.

“They’re on the patio. Let’s go.”

With one hand on Zoro’s wrist, you lead the both of you out of the wild crowd, past a populated hallway, and into the outdoor space adjoining the kitchen. Nami sits beside Luffy on a poolside loveseat, while Usopp stands before Sanji, who’s manning the grill. On the other side of the patio sits Ace with his older graduate friends, his shirt off and hair damped. Zoro is confused when you approach them first, but he doesn’t question it.

When you approach Ace, he’s wasted and surprisingly energetic, a complete 180º from his usual narcoleptic self.

“Hey! You came!” he greets enthusiastically. He tries to stand up, but his legs wobble, a sight you have never seen before from Portgas D. Ace, so he sits back down on the poolside furniture.

“Wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on the party,” says Zoro.

“And I’m kinda surprised you’re already drunk,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. Ace laughs.

“Attitude!” he snaps. “A bottle a day keeps the”—he hiccups—“narcolepsy away!”

“That’s enough.” Marco, a tall blond guy with tattoos similar to that of Ace’s, snatches the bottle of alcohol from his grasp. He passes the bottle around, far from Ace’s reach. “God, you’re a problem.”

“What did you come for?” he asks anyway through a stifled hiccup, but his chest rises again and he lets out a burp. “Actually, I think I know. If you’re looking for him, he’s inside.”

“I was looking for your brother,” you say, intentionally vague. Zoro grunts behind you.

“U-huh, sure you are. He’s all you ever think of, I bet,” he teases. Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “He’s somewhere inside. Probably looking for something to drink, or looking for you—I don’t know!”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he says, “oh, and, you weren’t as mysterious as you thought you were. You could’ve just said his name. I’m sure you’re aware that Luffy’s behind you.”

Right behind you, Zoro snickers. Your hands clench into balls of fists, but Marco shuts Ace up with a dry towel and a bottle of water. Turning on your heel, you decide to approach your friends at the other side of the patio and plop on the couch when you hear Ace’s scornful cackling from the distance.

“What’s up with him?” Sanji asks over the grill. The scent of melted cheese on marinated steak patties wafts through the area, and for a moment, you’re calm.

“Someone is finding one of his brothers in the middle of the party,” Zoro answers.

“I want to push him in the pool,” you joke.

“You’re looking for Sabo?” Luffy pipes up at the mention of his brothers. “He was just here. He went to look for something.”

Nami smirks devilishly. “More like someone.”

“Nami,” you warn.

She giggles. “I didn’t mention any names.”

“Let’s put our anger aside and get something to eat first,” says Sanji as he plates the first few burgers on serving plates from Luffy’s kitchen. He brings you a plate and an accompanying drink, just the way you like them served.

“You put seaweed on mine,” Zoro points out the evident nori flakes on his burger. Sanji glares at him.

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t want you complaining, so I added them ahead of time. Got a problem?”

Zoro’s forehead creases. “I was showing my gratitude.”

“It’s not my fault for assuming otherwise since you always talk like—”

“Hey, you guys came!”

Suddenly, Sabo emerges from the crowded kitchen, a red cup of liquor in hand with a pack of Nerds’ Gummy Clusters in the other. Your eyes shoot upward upon seeing him, and you fix your seated position on the couch.

“We were just talking about you,” Luffy says through a wide grin, his burger long gone. Nami nudges his side in an attempt to caution his words, which seemingly works since Luffy shifts his attention to Sanji’s food. “Sanji! Do you have any more patties there?”

“No, but I could cook some more,” replies the chef.

As your friends draw their focus to Sanji’s cooking, Sabo sits himself next to you on the couch. You scoot to the side, but your legs touch given the cramped space. “Have you eaten?”

You chuckle. “Haven’t even pre-gamed yet.”

“Planning on drinking tonight?”

“As long as I’m not roped into anyone’s crazy game, yep.”

“It’s been two months since that happened yet you’re still so cautious,” he points out.

You shrug. He’s right. Maybe you should let it go, but you can’t. Not that you’re at his house, not that he’s in the vicinity. Your feelings are still at a state of tug of war, your heart and brain telling you two different things.

But Sabo has been challenging your feelings as of late. He’s been helping you constantly with whatever you needed, be it an essay he could proofread or a last-minute grocery run to get you something to eat. He’s been too kind, too generous. And perhaps the worst part of it all is that he’s too good at doing those things, keeping you on your toes all the time, always catching your heart effortlessly.

“Just trying to be cautious this time around. Like I said, I never get that drunk. I’d rather not blackout on your bed and wake up next to you again,” you deadpan.

Laughing, he leans on the couch and extends one arm behind you. You inhale sharply. He isn’t even touching you, yet…

“Why not?” he asks. “Not that I want to see you that drunk again, but I doubt it’d be weird this time. You’re no stranger to me. Unlike before, you’re… you’re a friend.”

You look at him. That’s when you see it. His eyelids hang lower than normal, his circular eyes glowing in the dark, the colors of his irises reflecting the light of the bonfire in front of you. He’s a little tipsy, but his words are softly curated that you find the sincerity behind them nonetheless.

“I’d really rather not give you a heart attack by waking up next to you,” you whisper.

“You really won’t,” he whispers back.

“ACE!” A screech of Ace’s name sounds from the other side of the patio, where you just were. Startled, you and Sabo whip your heads behind you to find his brother running amok, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards. He stops just behind you, his movements somewhat wobbly.

“Man, how much have you been drinking?” Sabo scrunches his nose at the sight of his brother, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. Marco and a bunch of his friends follow.

“Not a deal, honestly. Where’s that card game you bought a few weeks back?”

Sabo shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”

“It was like a game or something. You showed it to me after you went on that date with—”

You raise an eyebrow. Sabo glances at you before looking back at his brother. “Shut up! It wasn’t—I wasn’t—”

“The card game, please,” says Ace with an extended hand.

Sabo grumbles under his breath. He places his drink on the ground, tells you that he’ll be back in a few minutes, then disappears into the buzzing crowd inside his house. Ace laughs maniacally when his brother leaves.

“What was that about?” Usopp asks.

“Just him being stubborn,” Ace says in a sing-song. He looks at you. “I see that look on your face. You’re curious, aren’t you?”

Your eyebrows knit in anger. “Wasn’t even going to ask.”

“Aw, don’t be mad!” He giggles. You pick up Sabo’s drink from the ground and lean back into the couch, drinking your own. Lowering his voice, he says, “I promise you, I was just teasing.”

You huff, but you don’t let Ace see any more of your troubled expression. “Like I said, I don’t care,” you lie through your teeth. Ace is a great older figure when he’s his normal self. When he’s drunk, he becomes annoying ten-fold.

“We’ll see about that,” he chirps. He tries to wrest Sabo’s abandoned drink from you, but Marco stops him from doing so.

When Sabo comes back, he’s rather sheepish. He slides the so-called “card game” in Ace’s hands before repositioning himself on the space next to you.

Before you can ask him any questions, he chugs the rest of his drink and apologizes.

Ten minutes later, you’re confronting Sabo as your friends unite in laughter behind you.

“You did what?!” you exclaim.

“I was curious, but I wanted to play the game, too!” Sabo defends himself. Your head falls into your hands. Sabo caresses your shoulder. “I’m sorry!”

“I have my reasons, Sabo. They’re embarrassing.”

“I understand, but it’s nothing to worry about,” he consoles you. He pats your shoulder once, then reluctantly your head. Your heart misses a beat. “Nobody knows what went down that night, okay? I do hope it wasn’t homicidal, but embarrassing or not, you’re safe.”

Sabo smiles when he evokes a response from you, a light laughter that gets drowned in the noise, but he hears it nonetheless. You lean into him closer.

“You’re not joining that game, are you?” Sabo looks at Ace and his group of friends, where your group of friends now sit after inviting you over. Nami left you under Sabo’s custody when you declined, warning him intently to keep an eye on you throughout the night—and he takes the job seriously because you’re closer to each other than before, like he’s guarding anything and anyone who dares try anything on you.

“Not tonight, no,” he says. “I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“A drunk man watching over me,” you goad him. “It’s funny, but I appreciate it.”

“I promised your friends,” he says. Suddenly, the crowd erupts in laughter. “They’re having a lot of fun.”

You nod. In all honesty, you didn’t expect Ace’s friends to concur with his antics. Ace is the youngest of the bunch, and Truth or Drink doesn’t seem like a party game that graduate and postdoctoral dudes play. Sabo tells you they’re all like-minded regardless of age, which makes a whole lot of sense considering their closeness.

“Ew! Marco, you’re gross! You’re gross!” Ace yells in response to Marco’s revolting story, reminisced in light of the card he chose. “You could have taken the shot instead of saying all that!”

“I’m not getting myself drunk,” the man in question says. With a flick of his hand, he tells Usopp with the empty bottle, “Spin it.”

You spend some time with Sabo at the patio until he excuses himself to the restroom, saying he drank too much prior to your arrival. You promise him you won’t go anywhere, so he walks back inside with ease.

But you’re adventurous. And most of all, curious. Without Sabo beside you for a suspiciously long amount of time—it’s been more than ten minutes and you’re worried; he must be puking his brains out over the toilet—there’s nothing to do.

After much debate, you walk over to the crowded end of the patio and peek through the crowd to see the mastermind of it all. Ace is as energetic as ever, and it doesn’t seem like he’s ending the game any time soon. Your eyes flicker across the crowd, and there, you see your friends—Nami, Usopp, Zoro, and Sanji. You can’t find Luffy anywhere, but your instincts tell you he’s somewhere there, hidden.

“Yikes, it landed on me,” Ace hisses through gritted teeth. Right beside him, Nami expertly shuffles the deck and lays it out neatly. Ace picks a card somewhere in the middle, and with bated breath, he awaits.

“Tell us which one of your friends’ siblings you would date, or drink the number of letters they have in their name.”

You freeze in place.

“The hell? Their siblings are, like, older than 35,” he says, unamused. “These people don’t do dating.”

Usopp shrugs. “Try your brothers’ friends, then?”

“Ah,” Ace gives it a thought or two, “well, you guys are little siblings to me. Sabo only has two friends outside of this circle, who I don’t really know. Let’s see…”

“Hey,” Sabo whispers beside you, and just like that, you’re distracted. He spares Ace a glance before looking back. “You alright?”

“I need a drink.” He nods. He takes your hand in his, and together, you leave the patio and squeeze through the sea of partygoers before winding up in the kitchen. Sabo snatches two bottles of Smirnoff from the counter with your express approval, then leads you back outside, past the swimming pool to the far corner of the backyard, where a big hardwood tree stands tall.

Sabo sneaks behind the tree, and with a push of a lever in a discreet junction box, the corner of the yard lights up. Lanterns hang from the branches of the oak, emitting a faint orange glow that consumes the night with warmth. Sabo points to the ladder by the base that extends upward to the branches.

You know this place. A tree house sits at the first fork of the oak, its design attributed to the large trunk that transverses the middle. The tree house is the brothers’ childhood playground, back when the adults used to live with them. You’ve been to their home enough times to know this, but none of your friends have ever stepped foot inside. You always assumed it was an off-limits area for the sake of preserving the space. It’s almost sacred.

“In here?” you ask Sabo just to make sure you aren’t entering a place you aren’t supposed to.

He nods.

“It’s too loud anywhere else. My room isn’t any better.”

He convinces you enough to climb up. He follows suit. When you make it to the top, you look around in awe.

Sabo has to crouch down because he’s too tall for the life of him, and there is only so much space before he’s smacked in the face by leaves. You laugh at him. He marches over to a small door, fiddles with the lock and keys in his hands, then pushes it open once unlocked.

You enter first. It seems almost magical. “Nostalgic” is another word to describe it. The light from the lanterns spill through the cracks and windows of the space, providing enough light to guide you around. Part of the oak’s trunk is in the middle, designed with LED lights and guarded by rails that encircle it. On the back wall are three bean bags of different colors. Sabo walks over to them, patting away the light dust that has collected on top of the blue bag, and pats the yellow one next to him.

“I’m guessing this is your color?” you ask, sitting on the bag as you’re told.

“Luffy’s. Mine’s blue. We kinda had a thing for playing pirates, and the colors assigned themselves with our costumes,” he says sheepishly. He then points to a black tapestry behind you, the word “ASL” painted on top of a crossbone. “Luffy tends to wear his straw hat when he’s drunk.”

“I’ve witnessed that,” you remark. You look around the room, scanning the many pictures and drawings hung up on the wall. Sabo cracks open the bottles and hands one of them to you, ensuring to inspect them first before letting you drink anything.

“Thanks,” you mumble. You clink your bottle with his before chugging down a generous amount. Sabo just watches you go, like taking a swig this impressive is second nature to you.

“You sure drink like you’re 30,” he comments.

“I’d argue otherwise,” you reply. “Those in their thirties usually drink some wine. That, I don't really have access to. Alcohol is much, much cheaper for uni students.”

“Can’t argue with you on that,” he mumbles, only after which he drinks some of his own. It’s your turn to watch him. “What?”

“No reason.” It’s true. You’ve just grown accustomed to watching Sabo so much that it feels a little fun to watch him just be himself, doing his own things. You drink another gulp of the liquor. Sabo tells you to slow down, but you don’t listen.

“Don’t shock your digestive system with the sudden influx of 45% ABV,” he warns. You find it incredibly nice of him, a warning out of genuine concern for you. But if you’re going to spend the rest of the night with Sabo alone at his childhood space, you might as well match his tipsy level.

When you’ve drunk one-thirds of the bottle, you rest your body on the bean bag and face the man next to you. Sabo is more exhausted than he makes himself out to be. His eyes hang lower than earlier, his blond hair tousled all over. But it’s in a handsome way most women like, making him look more vulnerable, but raw.

Sabo routinely notices this—how you’ve gone quiet, how your eyes scan his face. Bravely, he asks, “Are you checking me out?”

You sneer. “Does it look like I am?”

“Totally, yeah,” he says, but it’s hypocritical because he goes silent and he starts checking you out himself. You look different under the dim lighting, but he stares right back nonetheless.

It’s endearing, to say the least. Sabo holds so much charismatic power in his eyes that it almost drives you crazy. Then you realize it’s all he’s been doing the past weeks you’ve known him. Your heart swells.

“Thanks for sticking with me tonight,” you decide to tell him instead. He hums.

“It’s the least I could do.”

The conversation ends like that, leaving you with your silent thoughts as the muffled noise from the sound system outside passes through the walls of the tree house. You and Sabo sip from your bottles until sobriety slips from your grasp many minutes later.

Your head is buzzing when you move around the bean bag, figuring that if you move too much, the subtle ache in your head will turn into an intolerable migraine. You look down at your bottle and notice that you’ve drunk all of it. That explains it.

Your eyes flit to Sabo, who’s in the same position, but he’s tipsier than you are with his bottle equally empty. His eyes are almost closing, but he keeps them open as he gazes past the windows, eyes trained on the dark void outside.

He seems to be zoning out. He hasn’t blinked in the ten seconds you look at him, but it’s not truly what it seems.

He’s been preoccupied since that evening. His thoughts have been floating in his head the moment you arrived a couple hours ago. Frankly, he hasn’t thought about anything else but you. Sabo notices that you occupy his mind a lot, like you’re living rent-free in his small head for an unfair amount of time, but he doesn’t know whether or not he should consider it a problem.

His lips thin out into a straight line as he falls deeper in thought.

“Your observance is only limited to me and Luffy though.”

He’s been telling Ace about his interesting predicament since the start of your friendship. It hadn’t been a secret to him—or to anyone, for that matter—that you weren’t close to begin with. For some reason, you always hung around Ace, which made him ponder a few times about your fondness for his brother.

“Does she like you?” Sabo asked one day.

Ace’s features contorted into confusion. “Um, hello? Chill out. I’m basically her older brother.”

“She seems to hang around you a lot. I mean, when Luffy’s friends are over.”

“Doesn’t really mean much. I just talk a lot more than you do.”

Sabo always thought it was odd how you were closer to Ace more than you did him. Not that he was jealous of Ace—no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t anything in particular that you did either, but rather it was the bizarreness of it all that did. Sabo thought it felt strange that the both of you weren’t tight when you saw each other as often as you saw Ace. It made him wonder if he’d done anything wrong that seemed to repel your presence from him, but he always ended up clueless.

Ace shot him a look of doubt. “Are you implying that you want to impress Luffy’s friends?”

“Uh,” Sabo hesitates, “no.”

“Kinda seems like you’re worried about them not liking you, though,” his brother teased. Sabo was becoming flustered. “I guarantee you it’s my mouth. I doubt Luffy’s circle would approach me if I wasn’t loud.”

Sabo shrugged. Ace slid next to him on the kitchen island, gripping a glass of water.

“Hey, do you have a crush on someone you haven’t told me about?”

Sabo glared at him. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m just saying, you’re asking an awful lot of questions. Some might say they lead back to one person in particular.”

The blond groaned, eyes rolling to the side before he hopped off the stool and trudged away. “Shut up, Ace.”

“If you like her, you should tell her! You heard it first from me.”

It killed Sabo thinking about it. The atmosphere always turned different every time your friends left the both of you alone, just sitting around in the living room and giving each other respectful looks before directing your attention to your phones. You’ve talked before—quite obviously—but it was always awkward, a thick layer of silence never failing to engulf the space between you after a short-lived conversation. Sabo never understood it. What was wrong?

He figured you just didn’t connect as well as you did with his two brothers. After all, Sabo was less energetic than those two. Maybe it was just a ‘him’ problem all along.

“Right, so, you’re conflicted because you’re awkward, and she’s not.”

He groaned once more. “Correction: we both are.”

“You just need to talk to her. She doesn’t hate you, you know,” said Ace.

“I don’t trust that,” replied Sabo.

“Well, Mr. Nice-Guy-Who-Wants-To-Be-Friends-With-Everyone,” Ace started, “she doesn’t. If you want to be friends with her so badly, just walk up to her. Start talking. But I personally wouldn’t do that.”

“You wouldn’t?” Sabo blinked. “What does that mean?”

“I personally would never disguise my crush on somebody as ‘wanting to be friends with them.’ I’d cut to the chase and ask them out directly.” said Ace with finger quotations in the air. Sabo frowned. “Dude, don’t give me that look. Sadness doesn’t suit you.”

“I don’t like her,” he said, “I just want to be—”

“Want to be friends with her. Yeah, yeah, sure.” Ace waved his hands in the air, then took a huge gulp of water. “Maybe you do. But you only do because you’re nice to everybody. And when you want to be at peace with someone who seemingly hates you, you don’t make a fuss about it. Do you?”

Sabo was silent. Ace was victorious.

“Look, attraction is very weird. Some people get attracted to people who hate their guts. Or when they get ignored by the person they like.” Ace laughed. “You probably think of her because you know her least, so you keep thinking of her until she’s in your head every time she’s near. And suddenly, you’re attracted.”

Sabo grumbled. Screw Ace for being a natural romantic. “Even if I were, that doesn’t mean I like her enough to date her.”

Ace shrugged. He marched over to the fridge to get a bottle of Yakult. He threw one toward Sabo, who caught it just in time.

“It doesn’t. But that’s where the dating part comes. You go out to get to know them.” He downed the bottle in one go and tossed it in the bin under the island. “Dude, you’ve dated people before. Think about it. She’s your type. Don’t waste your time and just ask her out.”

Sabo was red by the end of that exchange. You are his type. He wouldn’t hide that at all, because if he tried hard enough, he could imagine dating you. But he didn’t know if he should take his chances or not. You’re one of Luffy’s best friends. He didn’t know how his brother would react if he found out that he was making moves on you. Beyond that, it also felt wrong to ask you so soon. Not when you couldn’t spare each other a glance, not when you couldn’t hold a proper conversation without ending on an awkward note. If Sabo were to make his move, he’d make sure you’re on talking terms first.

Finding you asleep on his bed two months ago was the push. Like a catalyst to speed his reactions. He hadn’t thought of approaching you so soon, but he was glad. Whatever could’ve been the reason for your drunkard antics, he was glad you ended up in his room, then because he could talk to you, then he could clear things up, then he could finally befriend you and dissolve that wall of discomfort.

He hadn’t known it back then, but you’re nice. You’re sweet. You get shy when he’s around because of the bedroom incident that happened a few weeks back, but you hold yourself accountable. You're apologetic for your actions. Even then, Sabo always reassured you that it was fine because it really was. He wouldn’t have gotten the chance to be with you the way he is now if it weren’t for it. But he couldn’t say that, of course. He’d save the explanation another time.

Although the thing with Sabo is that he gets himself in the most baffling of situations. Unlucky, if you will. But they might also be blessings-in-disguise. Regardless, it’s clear that his brain is running on alcohol and he can’t control his thoughts from pouring out the way he normally would sober. His thoughts seem like they have a mind of their own. So through his drunkenness, through the dim lights of the lanterns at his childhood tree house, he just conveniently decides that now is that time.

“I thought you were with Ace,” Sabo said. He had come upstairs to use the restroom and miraculously ran into Luffy seated by the foot of his bedroom. “Are you alright?”

“I’m hungry, but my tummy hurts,” he admitted. Sabo looked down at his brother, who had one hand on his stomach. He shook his head. “I can’t open my room.”

Like the good brother he was, Sabo unlocked Luffy’s bedroom door and rushed him inside, laying him down on his mattress. He tucked his brother in bed despite his protests.

“I don’t want to go to bed, I still want to eat!”

Sabo flicked his forehead. “Don’t even try. You’ll get sick again.”

“I want to go downstairs with Ace! He’s playing that game we played before!”

He heaves a sigh. “Yeah, because I brought it to him.”

“That game was dangerous. It got me drunk, too,” Luffy reminisced. “Everyone was barfing, and—”

“Go to sleep, idiot.” Sabo threw the blanket over his face.

“—she picked the worst card, but she didn’t want to tell us who it was, so she ended up drinking four shots like they were nothing!”

Sabo stopped moving. He removed the blanket covering Luffy’s face.

“Wait, say that again. What happened?”

Luffy began to ramble. He narrated the events that transpired that fateful night, from the moment Nami revealed the deck of playing cards to when you blacked out. Sabo tried to process the information as much as he could, but Luffy rapped through his words, only slowing down when Sabo’s name was roped into the game.

“Hey, don’t tell her this, but she drank four of them. I think she was spelling your name! Not Niji!” Luffy whispered.

So, as he sits right next to you, Sabo is conflicted. He just learned something he wasn’t supposed to, something he wasn’t allowed to hear. No wonder why you were so insistent on not telling him—everything that occurred that night had everything to do with him. He was right all along.

On one hand, it satisfies Sabo that he’s been on your mind the same way you’ve been in his. On the other hand, he feels like a traitor. He knows it isn’t his fault, but he can’t prevent the guilt that gnaws at his conscience. It will probably haunt him for the rest of his life if he hides it from you. He has to apologize. He has to.

So he wants to say it. He wants to be honest, at least. It’s the least he could do for finding out something he wasn’t supposed to, then he can apologize by the end of it. And maybe, just maybe, he can be honest about his feelings for you, too.

He opens his mouth, but he hesitates at the last second. He has his doubts, and just like that, he begins to second-guess his decisions. He probably shouldn’t say it because he’ll end up being this jerk who doesn’t know any better than to snoop around your business. He doesn’t want to be so cocky and arrogant that your eyes well up with tears, your lips form into a frown. So he decides to shut up. He decides to be a good boy and a gentleman, providing you with amazing company in comfortable silence, until you’re in the mood to chat.

But his mouth betrays him, and he says it without hesitation.

“Can I ask you something?”

You look at him. Sabo’s heart thumps in his chest. You’ve made him nervous before, back when you would sit so close at the library or at a jam-packed restaurant around Conomi Avenue. But the nerves that hit him this time around are different. They're far greater than the ones he’s experienced, like his heart is about to leap out of his chest.

You nod.

Sabo sucks in a deep breath.

“Is it,” he hesitates, “is it true that you would date me over your friends’ siblings?”

He drops the bomb. Your face instantly morphs into shock, your mouth falling ajar and your eyes becoming wide with fear. Sabo immediately regrets it. His heart falls to the pit of his stomach when you don’t reply.

You don’t seem too pleased. You stare into the night silently, like you’re giving Sabo the cold shoulder after his utterance. Little does he know, alarms blare inside your brain to signal a fight-or-flight response to his words. Adrenaline rushes through your bloodstream and you think of what to say, but your body fails to do anything productive as you simply tremble in place.

Sabo notices your internal dilemma when you don’t respond. He keeps quiet for a few moments as he waits for you to speak, but silence remains.

“You okay?” he decides to ask. A safe question, nothing to be afraid of, even though your answer is clear as day.

“Who told you?” is your first question, but you don’t sound mad. Just surprised.

Sabo leans back on the bean bag, then brings his bottle to his lips, drinking the last droplets that have pooled at the bottom.

“Luffy,” he admits soon afterward. A sigh escapes your lips. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I knew you didn’t want me knowing things, and believe me, I never acted on it,” he continues. “I just got too close.”

“Too close?”

“It just came out mid-convo,” he explains. “Luffy was M.I.A. earlier due to a sick stomach. I found him upstairs when I left. Everything just came out, and… I was too shocked. I had no idea how to stop him from divulging more than what he already had.”

Your head falls forward in defeat, but the liquor makes it heavier. A subtle throb aches in your right temple.

Typical Luffy. Of course he would tell him that. He probably thought it wasn’t a big deal since you and Sabo seemed to have been getting along recently.

“If there’s anyone you should be mad of, it should be me,” says Sabo.

But there’s no point. Getting mad at Sabo won’t get you anywhere. After all, his name was just dragged into your stupid drinking antics. If anything, beyond the bed issue, he should be mad at you. He should be mad that your feelings are jumbled, to the point that you can’t even properly tell him what happened in that stupid drinking game many weeks ago.

“I’m sorry.”

You suck in a deep breath. “It’s fine.”

He looks up from the ground.

“Really, it’s fine.” Turning toward him, you force out a smile. It’s the best that you can offer right now. A part of you is relieved that he doesn’t seem to be mad at you after learning what he learned, but the other part remains anxious. You don’t want your friendship to end badly. You’ve only warmed up to him recently, so the last thing you want to happen is to go back to ignoring each other.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“I told you, it’s fine.” You laugh breathily. You reposition yourself on the bean bag, so you’re facing him. You call out his name. “Sabo.”

He twists his head slowly, looking at you. The warm glow of the tree lights reflect on his face, and for a second, you’re speechless.

“Hm?”

“I…” He waits patiently. “Well, I…”

Is it worth telling him the truth? What happens when you do? He’s drunk and he looks so smitten under the moonlight, so you can only imagine how deeply it would hurt to tell him the truth behind your stupid drinking spree. You gulp.

Why are you so reluctant?

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say, “but that… all that didn’t mean anything.”

Sabo purses his lips. Your words leave a bitter taste in his mouth, but he sucks it up.

��I see.”

“But it was short-lived,” you interject. He listens. “All of it didn’t mean anything then, but it started meaning something when you came. When you started showing up in my life often a few days later.”

Silence falls.

“I thought I was going to lose my mind,” you confess. “I drank recklessly, but that was the end of it. You weren’t on my mind until the morning after, and the many days after that.”

“Until you woke up on my bed,” he finishes. “Right next to me.”

“You just knew when and where to show up,” you joke. “You were always there. You showed up whenever I thought of you, like you knew I was thinking of you… Did you know I was thinking of you?”

Sabo’s heart flutters in his chest. He never knew it felt good to hear someone say that. In some way, he felt honored. And for some reason, finding out your feelings for himself is a million times better than learning it from someone else.

“Even if you didn’t drink for me, I can’t say I didn’t like thinking as if you did,” he confesses. Your stomach turns. “For the time I thought it meant anything, it was rather short, but it felt good to know I crossed your mind that way.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. He waves his hand, disagreeing.

“An apology isn’t needed. Knowing you thought of me eventually in that light is good enough.” Smiling to himself, he replays your confession inside his head. He feels a jolt of electricity course through his body. He’s more than thrilled right now. “To make things even, I should let you know that it’s mutual. Always has been.”

“It is?” you ask.

He gives you a look. “I was obvious, wasn’t I?”

“But I was confused,” you explain. You’re into him, and you always have been into him—for once, you’re being honest with yourself. But it scares you to a degree that your feelings are merely infatuation. “What if I only liked you because you kept appearing around me? Because I’ve been thinking about you since I stumbled into your bedroom?”

You look at Sabo, your eyes a little glossy.

“I worried too much about these things that I didn’t pick up on your intentions.”

You’re not crying, but you might as well be. Alcohol is flushed into your system and it’s wiring your brain differently. You look helpless.

“What are you saying?” he asks, but he empathizes. He thinks he understands.

“I just didn’t know what’s fair and what’s not, and I still don’t,” you tell him honestly. “I’m into you, but how do I know if I truly do? Not because I see you so often, not because you’re nice to me?”

Sabo doesn’t respond right away and instead thinks to himself. It’s a great question, immensely reminiscent of his exchange with Ace. He and Ace don’t have a lot of differences, but it seems their views on dating is one of them. Ace likes things quick, fast, and straightforward. Sabo likes things slow, sweet, and just the right amount of pining. He doesn’t go out with people easily because he has an intrinsic fear of waking up one day and realizing that it isn’t love all along. It checks out with his dating history—he might as well be speaking from experience.

The problem now is that you seem to be in the same ditch. Other than the anxiety that comes with the doubt, he guesses it’s because he’s your best friend’s brother, too. Any problem between you will make things difficult for your friends, so Sabo understands where you’re coming from. You’re not about that risky life when the future appears blurry. When you commit, you want to be sure.

Sabo is smitten just the same, though, so he wants you to be sure. He wants it for the both of you.

“It takes time to know that,” he answers. “You go out and do things. You go on dates. When your heart is free of doubt, that’s when you know.”

Sabo watches you bite your lip. You’re still troubled, but the sight of you has him spiraling. Suddenly, he has the urge to hold you.

“It makes sense, but”—you bite your lip harder—”I still fear it. I don’t want to be wrong. I want to be sure. I want to be sure that it’s you.”

And I want that, too, Sabo says to himself. A sigh passes his lips. “We’re not far off. I didn’t know if I liked you because I knew you least or because I saw you as often as I did.” Standing up, he offers you his hand. You take it and let him hoist you up. As you stand before him, you look into his eyes while he peers down at you. “I got ahead of myself by bringing this up tonight. I’m sorry for causing you confusion. I hope you can forgive me.”

You frown. That’s not what you expected him to say.

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” you argue. “You don’t think this was a mistake, do you?”

“Being into you will never be a mistake,” he says, “but forcing us to have this conversation tonight might have been one. I brought it up early. I should have waited a little longer.”

Your lips form into a pout and you look so… sad. Sabo feels guilty for it. He wants to hold you closer, possibly even do the unthinkable and peck the sadness away from your lips. But it’s the alcohol talking in his system, so he prevents himself, not wanting to take advantage of you drunk.

“Thinking about it upsets me, but you’re not wrong,” you mumble. Things would’ve been different if you had this conversation at a later time. By then, you would have figured out your feelings and be more sure about Sabo than you are now. On the flip side, you’re challenged by the uncertainty of tomorrow. What happens after tonight? Will you continue your friendship as if nothing happened? There is no guarantee this will end well.

Sabo comforts you with gentle strokes of your head, patting your hair down as he surmises a reply. He’s distressed, but he’s glad you’re on the same footing.

“What do we do now, then?” He hears the brokenness in your voice, sees the genuine sadness in your eyes. He has to fix this.

“I’m still into you, you know?” He brings one hand up to your cheek, then pinches your skin softly. Blood rushes to your face at the endearing act. “That will never change. We just need time to figure things out together.”

He reaches for your hand. Sabo runs a thumb across your knuckles to soothe your nerves.

“If you want to, that is.”

You hold his hands in yours.

“I want to.”

“Then come here.”

He opens his arms, and almost automatically, you fall into them. Your arms encircle his waist as he lays an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer. You smell the liquor on him mixed with his cologne, and just like that, you’re entranced. You’re comforted. Sabo just does it so well.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not remembering a single thing tomorrow,” you warn him softly.

“It’s okay,” he whispers through a hearty laugh. “I’m no better. We’ll just see where this goes.”

SIX.

You remember every single thing.

When you and Sabo got back to the patio, it was past midnight. Ace and his friends were down by the poolside, while your friends packed themselves like sardines in Luffy’s bedroom, sleeping soundly as a 2000’s romantic comedy played in the background. The house had been less crowded then, allowing you to navigate around better without having to link hands with Sabo as tightly.

You ate some crackers to fill your stomach before heading to his room upstairs, where he offered to let you sleep on his bed. You initially refused, but he insisted, promising you that he could sleep on the floor just fine.

That’s how you find yourself in his bedroom the following morning. You wake up a few minutes before the clock strikes 7, jolting awake by the sudden unfamiliarity of your surroundings. When you realize you’re in Sabo’s room, you relax back into the mattress, your head hitting his soft pillows.

You realize that Sabo is gone when you look down to check his make-do bed on the floor. He’s woken up early, it seems.

You sling your feet off the side of the mattress when you feel the first throb of an impending migraine. You hiss in pain. Even then, you fight through the ache and make a beeline for the bathroom in search of some hangover pills, then tread to the kitchen for a glass of water.

When you get there, someone has beaten you to it.

“Good morning,” Sabo chirps from the other side of the island, tossing a pan of eggs over the stove. The side of your head throbs again, but you resist to flinch. “You’re up early.”

“I have a migraine,” you mutter. Approaching the stool just across him, you lay your head on the counter and pat your own head gently. “Got anything there for it?”

“Other than the classic pain-relievers, I can give you something good to eat,” he says. A few minutes later, he slides a plate of seasoned eggs in front of you, hot and freshly cooked. He rounds the island and sits on the stool beside you, watching you silently.

But you meet his gaze when you tilt your head to the side. Your head throbs again, and again, and again, but you stare at him, and he stares back.

You laugh.

You both laugh.

“Remember anything?” he asks, hopping off his seat and leaning on the countertop next to you. Reflex causes you to look away, but you aren’t rattled one bit. Flirt.

“Very much so.”

“That saves me the trouble of explaining things from the start. How much do you remember?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you say. “Like, all of it?”

Sabo pinches your cheek. “I had a feeling. You’re a tough nut.”

“And so are you.”

“Mm-hmm, but you could give me that. I was pretty out of it for the most part,” he says. “You kept me sober. I fought the effects of the alcohol so I could remember.”

“Oh, Sabo,” you call his name. He smiles, and you’re ruined. You feel warm again, your heart beating a little faster. Your stomach swarms with a million butterflies and for a moment, your headache is gone, like Sabo was all you needed to get rid of it.

“What are you two doing, flirting in my kitchen?” as if on cue, Ace bellows from the living room, his hair untidy and his shirt gone. He looks around the space, deciding what to do first, then walks straight to the fridge where he hunts for food.

“We were having a moment,” Sabo snaps. Ace makes a face of feigned disgust, but you don’t see it from your seat.

“Gross. Let me have some breakfast first, then you can continue,” he says, drinking Luffy’s leftover can of orange juice from the fridge. “Not sure if anyone’s told you yet, but congratulations. I hope I was the first.”

Before Ace strolls out the kitchen, he bids you goodbye. “Remind your friends that they owe me some money!” After that, he’s gone.

You giggle. Annoyed, Sabo rolls his eyes. He has to confront Ace later for betting on his love life behind his back, but for now, his focus is on you and the migraine that seems to prick at your head.

“Hangover soup and a few more hours of sleep can fix this,” Sabo advises. You nod. “I’ll make you something, then we can order anything you’d like at noon.”

“Thank you,” you reply shyly.

“Anything for you.” He pats your head, ruffling your bedhead hair in the process. And there it is again—he smiles, and you melt. He’s handsome without even trying. “You have me.”

“I have you,” you echo.

thanks for reading! i apologize to everyone for taking so long to post this, especially to my giftee @justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms. i underestimated this semester's workload, so i barely got enough time to write on time:( my first idea was to write about the ASL brothers going on a glamping trip with reader, which i had written a substantial amount of, but i scrapped the idea because it was going nowhere. that was originally around 4k words, while this was supposed to be within 8k. it ended up stretching to 17k (i'm sorry).

some other things: i wanted to write about law, but i was afraid everyone else would write about him (and i was right), so i settled with sabo, who barely gets enough fics. i had a lot of fun writing this. sabo is very sweet and he deserves more stories written about him. following that thought, ASL modern AU's should definitely be more common. i don't understand why barely anyone writes them, it's kinda criminal.

other than being my first full-length sabo fic, this is the longest one shot i've ever written, so it's kinda special to me. i didn't have enough time to get it beta-read, but i proofread it myself so i hope it's good enough lol. that's about it. thanks for tuning in!

#infixopmarch2025 #one piece #sabo #sabo x reader #one piece sabo x reader #one piece sabo #op sabo #op x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #op x you #sabo x you #one piece sabo x you

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miunachan · 2 months ago

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Soft & Cozy Story Ideas ♥

Hey ✿

This time I wanted to share with you a few soft & cozy gameplay/story ideas for The Sims 4 ♥ They are pretty ✧basic✧ and easy to play after a long and exhausting day just to chill out🌿

Most of the ideas are also base game compatible, nevertheless I included recommended but optional packs ❀ Feel free to comment your cozy story ideas and I will happily add them to this list~

Here is the original post. And in case you like cute Sims 4 stuff, please take a look at my Patreon ♥

My other story ideas ✧. ✲ﾟ･｡✧･ﾟ ✿ Ultimate List of Business Ideas ✿ Very Dramatic Story Ideas

Happy simming =^◕⩊◕^= ~ MiunaChan ♥

🌾 Simdew Valley

She has inherited an old, run-down farm from a distant relative. With nothing but a few basic tools and a lot of determination, she sets out to restore it to its former glory. She cares for animals, grows fresh produce, and slowly transforms the neglected land into a thriving homestead. Will she turn it into a successful business or simply enjoy the peaceful farm life?

Recommended Packs: Cottage Living, Horse Ranch, Seasons, Businesses & Hobbies

👶 Cozy Parenthood Journey

She always dreamed of having a family, and now that dream is coming true! From decorating the nursery to knitting tiny clothes, every day is filled with excitement and preparation for the new arrival. Once the baby is born, she embraces the cozy chaos of late-night feedings, lullabies, and first steps. Will she find the perfect balance between self-care, family life, and her own dreams?

Recommended Packs: Growing Together, Nifty Knitting, Parenthood

🧙‍♂️ The Thanatology Scholar

Fascinated by the mysteries of life and death, your Sim immerses themselves in the study of thanatology. They attend lectures, read ancient texts, and experiment with spiritual practices. Along the way, they uncover hidden truths and develop a special connection to the spirit world.

Recommended Packs: Life and Death, Realm of Magic, Paranormal Stuff

🖌 Artist’s Peaceful Retreat

She retreats to a charming lakeside cottage to finally dedicate herself fully to her art. Every day is spent painting, sculpting, or writing – inspired by the breathtaking nature around her. Will she sell her first masterpiece or simply create for her own joy?

Recommended Packs: Dream Home Decorator, City Living, Businesses & Hobbies

🔮 Enchanted Village Life

She has always felt drawn to the mystical and unknown. When she moves into a tiny, ivy-covered cottage at the edge of the forest, strange things begin to happen — her garden flourishes overnight, fireflies seem to whisper secrets, and the old spellbook on the dusty shelf calls to her. As she brews herbal teas, crafts protective charms, and befriends a mischievous fox, she slowly uncovers the magic hidden within herself. Will she embrace her new life as the village’s gentle witch?

Recommended Packs: Realm of Magic, Cottage Living, Paranormal Stuff

🧘‍♀️ Zen Retreat

Seeking inner peace and balance, your Sim leaves behind the hustle and bustle of everyday life to run a small wellness retreat. They spend their days practicing yoga, meditating, and offering relaxing massages to visitors. As they help others find tranquility, they may just discover a deeper sense of harmony within themselves.

Recommended Packs: Spa Day, Snowy Escape, Businesses & Hobbies

🌊 Mermaid’s Hidden Cove

Deep beneath the waves, your Sim has always felt a special connection to the ocean. One day, they discover a hidden cove, teeming with magic and mystery. As they embrace their mermaid heritage, they explore underwater secrets, befriend turtles, and gather treasures lost to time. Will they remain in the depths forever, or will they find a way to balance life on land and sea?

Recommended Packs: Island Living, Realm of Magic, Outdoor Retreat

🐶 Pet Whisperer

She has a heart for animals and takes in stray dogs and cats. Her little home is filled with love, fluffy friends, and daily adventures in the park. Maybe one day, she’ll even adopt a horse and expand her cozy home?

Recommended Packs: Cats & Dogs, Horse Ranch, My First Pet Stuff

🚐 Van Life Adventure

She has left her old life behind and now lives in a renovated van. Every day is a new place, new encounters, and cozy evenings with a guitar by the campfire. Will she eventually settle down, or will she stay on the road forever?

Recommended Packs: Snowy Escape, Outdoor Retreat

☕ Little Book Café

She has always dreamed of owning her own café – and now it's finally happening! Her little shop is the perfect retreat for book lovers who want to enjoy a cappuccino and a good story. Can she turn her tiny café into a beloved gathering place for creative souls?

Recommended Packs: Get Together, Get to Work, Businesses & Hobbies

🍎 Classic Cottagecore Dream

She has escaped the city and bought a little cottage in the countryside. Here, she lives the dream of a simple life: feeding chickens, growing vegetables, making homemade jam, and writing letters to a mysterious pen pal. Who knows – maybe the mailman will soon bring more than just bills?

Recommended Packs: Cottage Living, Seasons, Eco Lifestyle

🏡 Tiny Home Escape

The call of minimalism has reached her! She sold her big house and now lives in a self-built tiny home. She discovers how little she really needs – and how much joy comes from living with nature and focusing on what truly matters.

Recommended Packs: Tiny Living, Eco Lifestyle, Outdoor Retreat

📚 Cozy College Life

Your Sim isn’t here to party hard — they’re here to enjoy the simple joys of student life. Early morning coffee runs, study sessions in a sunlit library, and cozy nights spent journaling in their dorm. They join a book club, decorate their tiny student apartment with fairy lights, and take peaceful walks around campus. Will they graduate with honors, or will they discover that learning is about more than just grades?

Recommended Packs: Discover University, High School Years

🎶 Slow Life Musician

She enjoys a relaxed life in a small apartment. By day, she works in a record store; by night, she plays guitar at a cozy café. Music is her lifeblood – will she one day write a song that changes her life forever?

Recommended Packs: City Living, Get Famous

🍰 Comfort Baking Challenge

Baking is her passion! Every day, she tries new recipes and invites friends and neighbors to taste her latest creations. Maybe one day, she’ll even open a little cupcake shop?

Recommended Packs: Home Chef Hustle, Get to Work, Businesses & Hobbies

🌿 Secret Garden

Her tiny garden is her pride and joy. She spends her days tending to plant, growing herbs, and creating a beautiful flower bed. Will she start her own flower shop or discover the magic of healing herbs?

Recommended Packs: Seasons, Eco Lifestyle, Cottage Living

🧶 Cozy Grandparent Life

Knitting, gardening, and baking fill her days – until she stumbles upon an old love letter she never sent. Her heart races. Could her first love still be out there somewhere? And if so, what will happen if they meet again after all these years?

Recommended Packs: Nifty Knitting, Growing Together, My Wedding Stories

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bestanimal · 1 month ago

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Round 3 - Reptilia - Strigiformes

(Sources - own work, 2, 3, 4)

We move on to our next order of birds, the Strigiformes, commonly called “owls”. Strigiformes are divided into two living families, Strigidae (“true owls”) and Tytonidae (“barn owls” and “bay owls”).

Owls are recognizable for their large, forward-facing eyes, hawk-like beak, and circle of feathers, called a “facial disk”, around their eyes. The facial disk can be adjusted to sharply focus sounds from varying distances onto the owls' asymmetrically placed ear holes. Owls have stereoscopic eyes which permits the greater sense of depth perception necessary for low-light hunting. While they have good (but farsighted) vision, especially at night, most of their perception is through their highly accurate hearing. Owls also have filoplumes, hairlike feathers around their beak and feet, which allow them to better feel their prey. Serrated edges on owl flight feathers muffle their wing beats, allowing an owl's flight to be practically silent. Most owls are nocturnal ambush predators, and these many adaptations reflect that lifestyle. They hunt mostly small mammals, insects, and other birds, although a few species specialize in hunting fish. They are found worldwide, except the polar ice caps and some remote islands.

Most owls are solitary and only tolerate the presence of other owls for breeding. In most species, the male will stay in his territory and call, while females travel and look for mates. Some owls will only pair bond for the breeding season, while others may remain together for a year or more. Males will use courtship calls, flights, and may even offer food to potential mates. Owls do not build their own nests, but rather opportunisticly nest in tree cavities, rock crevices, burrows, directly on the ground, or in the abandoned nests of other birds. Females primarily incubate the eggs, while the male will bring her food and sometimes incubate as well to give her a “break”. Once the chicks are hatched, the female will primarily stay in the nest and watch the chicks while the male brings food to the nest. The female will rip the food into smaller pieces to feed the chicks. As the chicks grow, they begin to wander from the nest. Fledglings may continue to be fed by the parents for a short while until they leave to establish their own territories.

The Paleocene genera Berruornis and Ogygoptynx show that owls were already present as a distinct lineage some 60–57 million years ago, hence, they possibly evolved some 5 million years earlier, at the extinction of the non-avian dinosaurs.

Propaganda under the cut:

Owls are the apex predators of the night. The main predators of owls are other, larger owls.

Blakiston's Fish Owl (Ketupa blakistoni) is the largest owl species by body mass, with the larger females weighing from 2.95 to 4.6 kg (6.5 to 10.1 lb) and growing up to 72 cm (2.4 ft) in total length. Great Grey Owls (Strix nebulosa) have them beat in the length department, at 61 to 84 cm (2 to 2.8 ft) long.

The endangered Blakiston's Fish Owl is revered by the Ainu peoples of Hokkaido, Japan, as a Kamuy (divine being) called Kotan koru Kamuy (God that Protects the Village).

Elf Owls (Micrathene whitneyi) play dead when handled, an adaption that encourages a predator to relax its grip so that the owl can escape.

Burrowing Owls (Athene cunicularia) are uniquely diurnal, terrestrial owls that live underground in burrows. Usually the burrows are constructed by other animals, but the owls may dig their own in soft enough soil. When threatened, the owl can retreat into its burrow and make a rattling, hissing sound, sounding like a rattlesnake. While not flightless, Burrowing Owls have longer legs than other owls, allowing them to sprint after their prey.

The Barn Owl, the most recognized owl in the world, was formerly considered to have a global distribution with around 28 subspecies. However, following gene studies, the Barn Owl is now split into four species: the Western Barn Owl (Tyto alba) (image 4) (10 subspecies), the American Barn Owl (Tyto furcata) (12 subspecies), the Eastern Barn Owl (Tyto javanica) (7 subspecies) and the Andaman Masked Owl (Tyto deroepstorffi).

Owls are sometimes kept as pets, especially in countries where animal welfare laws are scant. However, owls are wild animals and do not make good pets, and as they are non-social, nocturnal, ambush predators, being in a bright, noisy environment surrounded by large humans can be very stressful for them. Owls also have very different body language from the animals humans are used to, and thus most humans are not able to tell when an owl is stressed or scared. Falconry owls and those used as educational “animal ambassadors” are often imprinted on humans, and cared for by multiple experts who can better determine their needs than someone just keeping an owl in their house for fun.

While owls are viewed in many mythologies and cultures as evil harbingers of death, in Hinduism they are also associated with the goddess Lakshmi, the goddess of fortune, wealth, and prosperity.

Owls are often used as a form of natural pest control, via placing nest boxes in attempts to attract owls to a property. One family of Barn Owls can consume more than 3,000 rodents in a nesting season.

Owls are under threat worldwide due to the use of rodent bait. Most rodenticides are anticoagulants, forcing the rat or mouse to wander for days in search of relief, eventually internally bleeding to death. Rodenticide poisons remain in dead and dying rodents, and are then ingested by predators who see them as easy prey, such as owls. Rodenticides can stay in the owl’s body for months, and will accumulate if the owl eats more poisoned rodents. If the rodenticide does not kill the owl, it can still build up in their system and be passed on to the next generation. If not treated, the owl(s) will begin to exhibit neurological symptoms, internal bleeding, and eventually external bleeding, and will slowly and painfully die. When the owl dies, other animals may scavenge its body, continuing the cycle of poison. When seeking to control rodents, it’s best to consider natural methods, rather than taking entire ecosystem out in the process!

#animal polls #round 3 #reptilia #Strigiformes

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elllisaaa · 3 months ago

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BIG BOYS - J. YUNHO & S. MINGI

KINKTOBER DAY 31 - SIZE KINK

SUMMARY : being the captain of a boat with only men on board is sometimes tiring, but luckily, your two wingman are always willing to help, in more ways than one.

-> pairing : pirate!yunho x captain!fem!reader x pirate!mingi

-> words count : 1.5k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : soft dom!yunho x sub!reader x soft dom!mingi, body worship, size kink, threesome, breast play, oral (f. receiving), marking, praising, hair pulling, fingering, unprotected sex, spanking

+ the way i'm depicting yunho & mingi does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist | kinktober 2024

Spending your life on a boat, crossing the seas of the whole world was great most of the time. You started off being a simple member of the crew, and you slowly made your way to the top. Now, you had your own crew, your men and women working for you, being at your service. And you knew you could count on your two wingmen - Yunho and Mingi. You met them when you were still an assistant to your old captain, and they were crew members. You quickly developed a strong friendship with them both, so when the time came for you to go away and become your own captain, they decided to follow along to help you, obviously. Most days, everything was going smoothly though. You were enjoying your life, and your role on the boat. You were free, and you wanted it to stay that way.

“- Everyone ! You can go and have your fun tonight, drink and celebrate, we’re leaving tomorrow’s afternoon !”

The crew cheered at your announcement. Everytime you came out victorious from a new battle, you paused in a new harbour to let your men rest and enjoy their little time on earth. Though, you weren’t fond of leaving your boat and rarely accompanied them. Sometimes, Mingi and Yunho would force you to come along and have a drink with them but the last few weeks had been pretty exhausting for you and you just wanted to rest.

As everyone started to leave the boat and walk down to the village, you retreated in your room and sighed as the noises were drowned out by the closed door behind you. Though, it didn’t take long for it to open again, and you knew exactly who had walked in, a smirk spreading on your lips as you felt a pair of strong, muscular arms sliding over your hips and pulling you flush against his chest.

“- You’re not coming with us to have a drink, darling ?”

Mingi’s deep, raspy voice made you shiver as you basked in his embrace, sighing in relief at the way he immediately started to kiss down your neck. All the tension in your body was starting to go away, and Mingi could feel you leaning against him the more you relaxed.

“- You know that I won’t. I need something else.

- Then let us take care of you then, mh ?”

You smiled at Yunho’s words coming from behind you too. He slowly made his way to stand in front of you, looking at the way you already seemed all pliant in his best friend’s hold. His hands came up to take a hold of your boobs, your back arching against Mingi’s chest as you hummed in pleasure.

“- Hm… Yes, please…”

This was all they needed to take you to the bed, Yunho sitting behind you while Mingi was kneeling in between your spread legs, slowly kissing his way down your body. This had been a habit for quite some time - whenever you needed to unwind, they were always here to help you and they would always gladly participate.

“- Just relax, angel. We’re gonna make you feel good.

- You always do…”

Yunho smiled back at you, turning your head to the side to be able to look at him. He slowly leaned down, kissing your lips softly as Mingi was now licking at the skin of your inner thighs. As he got closer and closer to your core, you started to whine against Yunho’s mouth, and he took advantage of that to slip his tongue into your mouth, the kiss suddenly getting more and more heated as time went on.

“- Can I, princess ?”

You detached yourself from Yunho’s lips to look down at Mingi - his head resting against your thigh, his eyes shining with lust and just waiting for your permission to dive into your wetness. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly pushing his head forward with a lazy smile stretching out your lips.

“- Do whatever you want.

- Don’t say things like that…”

Mingi groaned as he finally helped you out of your pants, leaving you only in your panties that he simply pushed to the side to reveal your glistening cunt to his hungry gaze. He licked his lips before diving in, immediately lapping at your folds like he always did, knowing your body like the back of his hands by now. You reacted right away - head thrown back and resting against Yunho’s shoulder and small moans escaping from your lips.

“- That’s it angel, just relax for us… Feels good ?

- Mh… So good, love your mouth Mingi…”

The boy between your legs hummed against your folds, the vibration sending another jolt of electricity through your body. You squirmed against Yunho’s larger frame, feeling his hands going up from your waist to your boobs again, undoing the buttons of your blouse and squeezing them over your corset. You could feel all the pent-up tension and tiredness leave your body as Yunho kissed and sucked on your neck, as Mingi alternated between lapping at your clit and pushing his tongue inside of you.

“- You’re doing so good Y/N…”

You whimpered at the praise, feeling the heat take over your body slowly. Minigi’s tongue was soft but precise, he knew exactly which spots were making you cry the loudest but he wanted to spend as much time as possible between your thighs, purposely dragging out his pleasure because he was just so intoxicated by the taste of you, by the way you were slightly tugging on his hair to keep him close to your pussy. And he loved it.

“- Yu, please…

- What do you want, angel ? Just tell me.

- Your fingers… Need your fingers, please…”

Yunho chuckled against your ear as he let one of his hands slide down to where Mingi was still feasting. He pushed his best friend away to be able to dip his fingers in your wetness, now a mix of your juices and of Mingi’s saliva. You looked down at the scene, and just like every time, you were even more aroused by the way their hands looked so big. Yunho was covering your boob so easily with his huge palm, and you moaned loudly as he pushed one of his long fingers inside of you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Mingi joined the fun again, timing his sucking and licking at your clit with his friend’s finger. Mingi’s hands - still resting on your open, shaking thighs - looked so good too, so big, making you remember how good it felt when he was wrapping it around your throat.

You could see the broad muscles of his shoulders moving under his shirt as he continued to eat you out restlessly, not caring about the fact that Yunho had just inserted a second finger into your gushing hole, making you release another string of sinful moans. You loved this, loved how easy it was for them to control you - how easy it was for Mingi to keep your legs open for him, how easy it was for Yunho to keep you from squirming too much with only one hand.

“- Are you close ?”

At this point, you were only able to nod at Yunho’s question, breathless and your brain reduced to mush. And you could feel his proud smirk as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, moving his fingers inside of you in the perfect way, hitting your sweet spot without missing every time. And paired with the way he was still playing with your boobs, and with how adament Mingi was on torturing your clit with his tongue, you were on the verge of insanity. It only took one last look at how wide Mingi’s shoulders looked in between your thighs for you to cum against his mouth, clenching around Yunho’s fingers and grinding against the both of them to ride out your high.

“- Fuck…

- Feeling better princess ?”

You nodded absentmindedly at Mingi as he came up from your cunt, chin and lips still glistening from your juices, but you didn’t care as you pulled him in for a deep, heated kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. But they knew you, they knew you always needed more than only one orgasm. Mingi looked down at the way his best friend was still playing with your cunt, caressing you lazily. Without any warning, he grabbed your hips and flipped you around, making you yelp in surprise as he pushed your head in Yunho’s lap, your cheek rubbing against the obvious boner deforming his pants.

“- Now I need to have my fun too… Be a good girl and take it.”

You bit down on your lips as you heard Mingi shuffling around, and the next second, he was pushing his whole length inside of you, making you moan his name out loud. Yunho’s hand came down to play with your hair, but he also pressed your face further into his boner as he groaned in pleasure. And you couldn’t help the sounds escaping from you either.

“- S-So big Mingi !”

You could hear his smirk as he chuckled, snapping his hips forward in a regular, rapid rhythm, one of his hands coming down to slap your ass, the sound echoing in the room along with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and of your combined moans.

“- Yeah, princess… But that’s what you like, don’t you ?

- Shit… Yes.”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

ateez taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@sharonxdevi @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @rikiives @lichyuu @foxinnie8 @lovelyuyu @lala-----------lala @seomisaho @dylanobr1ens @straytiny127

kinktober taglist (comment or dm to be added) :

@d-dilemma @bath1lda @anxiousskylar @mikaelless @leeknowinggg

#eli's kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober fics #ateez #ateez fics #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho fics #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi fics

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noira-l · 9 months ago

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Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: The onsen's heat melt away your coldness, while the festival's treats sweetened your heart. But it was Satoru, with his fiery passion and childlike joy, who truly made you feel alive again.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 16,4k

warnings: MDNI, smut with plot, so much tension, establishing relationship (?) public intimacy (onsen), summer festival motives (traditional clothing, games and foood), lovemaking, dry humbing, p in v, oral/fingering (f reciving), unprotected sex, creampie, intense at the end, dirty talk, teasing, namecalling (sweetie, wifey etc.), dacryphilia, tooth rotting fluff, soft, spicy and touch starved Satoru.

author's note: oh dear, that loooong, but we are finally here. I couldn't finished this chapter in a month, it was eating me alive. I'm a virgin when it comes to writting smut scenes, so please be gentle. Hope you enjoy it in the end, your pulse will quicken and your heart will sugar coat ;3

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 '𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭'

"Mr and Mrs Gojo, we are pleased to welcome you to our establishment, we wish you a pleasant stay." the woman at the front desk beamed, her smile broad and a little too wide as she handed over your wristbands. Her eyes darted nervously to Satoru, who stood next to you, his presence undeniably commanding the room. Naturally, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks.

You felt a familiar weight as his hand settled on your waist, possessive yet gentle.

"Thank you." Satoru replied, his voice filled with that infectious enthusiasm "My wife and I are looking forward to a time full of relaxation!" his tone was warm, but it carried that undercurrent of determination, the kind that always made you wonder just how seriously he took even the most mundane things.

You couldn’t help but notice the effect he had on the staff around you. There was a collective intake of breath, and you watched as the women at the reception seemed to hold it, eyes wide and dreamy. It was, frankly, a bit embarrassing. You’d seen this reaction countless times, but it didn’t make it any less disconcerting when it happened right in front of you.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like when he actually started using the spa. The baths, the onsen… you winced internally at the thought. You already regretted booking the full package. Satoru was a magnet for attention- talkative, charming, and with looks that could make anyone pause. What had seemed like an idyllic, relaxing retreat was starting to feel like an exercise in patience.

It had all sounded so good when you read about it: relaxing massages, body treatments, the tranquil atmosphere. And part of you was still excited; you'd been waiting for this for what felt like forever. But now, seeing the ladies at the front desk practically swooning at the sight of him was… well, let's just say it was a little annoying.

The location itself was well decorated. You walked away from the reception area for a moment, as Satoru started talking to another staff person. It was quite a distance away from the village where you had an accommodation, but it was close enough to the surprise you wanted to take him to in the evening. You could see that everything was well-maintained and quite fresh, as if a renovation had taken place here not long ago. Ceremonial ornaments adorned the walls, trimmed bonsai trees stood as miniature sentinels in each corner, and the view from the wide windows was breathtaking, the landscape rolling out in serene waves of green and stone. You could feel a sense of calm settling over you despite your earlier irritation.

There weren't many visitors at this time of day. You guessed that was partly because you'd arrived in the afternoon, and partly because most guests were likely preparing for the evening's festivities. Your gaze wandered to a lacquered painting on the wall, depicting a serene scene of a man and woman submerged in water, their backs turned to each other. The art was surprisingly well-preserved, capturing the beauty and tranquility of the surrounding area.

"Ready?" you felt a hand embrace you from behind. You nodded your head.

"Do you know where to go and what to do?" your gaze fell on his eyes, he threw a towel over his shoulder.

You'll probably never get used to the shifting shades of blue that swirl in his sparkling eyes.

"I asked the staff about a few things." he said in a melodic voice. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder.

"Good, I'll meet you after the treatments and when you've finished bathing, if you'd be early, then don't leave without me, I'll wait for you here." he gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up, his signature grin spreading across his face.

"Have fun." he added before leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the entrance to the men's changing room, a dark blue curtain swaying gently as he slipped behind it.

You watched him go, a mixture of exasperation and affection welling up inside you. With a small sigh, you turned on your heel and made your way to the women’s section, pushing aside a curtain as red as the blush still warming your cheeks.

----

Oh yes.

That's what you needed.

You don't remember when you felt so relaxed. You felt your whole body eased and your head pleasantly calmed. Your aching hip and shoulder blade, which had suffered an injury after your last mission, finally experienced proper treatment. A complex of massages prepared your body, while scrubs and regenerating masks gave your complexion a healthy glow. You liked to take care of yourself. As you rose from your seat, finishing your last massage with some special stones, you heard a quiet whisper from behind the curtain.

"Have you seen the white-haired guy?" this question set your ears ringing.

"Yes, handsome and charming." the giggle of the other voice was terribly loud.

"But apparently he's married."

Your feet found the ground, yet you remained still, your ears attuned to their every word, each syllable a slow drip of poison.

"Ah, what a shame, wasting on such an uncute woman." Pity, right? you furrowed your brow at this comment, sudden breath catching.

The words struck like a blade, your breath stuttering in your chest, a flare of heat rushing to your face.

"But are you sure? He didn't have a ring." Your fingers curled into fists, nails biting into your palms, the silk of the robe whispering against your skin as you fought the urge to rip through the curtain.

"Yes, at the desk, he said the woman next to him was his wife." the tone had shifted, dripping now with mockery, each word a taunt that twisted the knife deeper.

"But you know what they say, no ring no problem."

You opened the paper door to your cubicle, not wanting to wait for the next treatment or hear what these old maids had to say.

Out in the corridor, the air was cooler, less stifling, yet it did nothing to quell the fire simmering just beneath your skin. The air thick with the lingering scent of oils and herbs. Each word you had overheard replayed in your mind, an echo that rattled in the silence around you. The pity, the mockery, the casual cruelty of their voices scraped against your thoughts like nails on glass.

Uncute woman. The phrase curled around your mind like a serpent, squeezing until it left marks that stung with each breath.

You didn't want to spoil your mood, even though it had somehow gotten under your skin anyway. You just hope that the hot water will wash it out of you.

The wooden floor creaked under your step. The colours of the glass slowly changed, revealing the sunset outside. After pulling back the white curtain at the end of the corridor, you were shown one of the most stunning views.

The hot spring lay before you, a hidden oasis cradled by the forest. It was framed by rugged stones and ancient trees, their branches bowing gently as if in reverence to the sacred waters. A traditional torii gate loomed at the edge, draped with sacred Shinto ropes and tassels that whispered secrets to the evening breeze. In the background, rocks and trees wove into the scene, and just beyond, a small wooden temple stood, its silhouette blurred by the rising mist. Lanterns glowed in the encroaching twilight, casting a warm, flickering light upon the surface of the water, illuminating the steam that curled into the air like ghostly tendrils. It was a scene of tranquility, an invitation to forget, to cleanse.

The overall scene set you in relaxation and some sort of spiritual cleansing.

You let your towel slip from your grasp, draping it on the cabinet before stepping into the milky water. It lapped against your ankles first, sending tendrils of heat spiraling up your legs. Slowly, you eased further in, each step a deliberate act of immersion, the water climbing higher, coaxing the tension from your muscles with each passing second.

Finally, you lowered yourself until the water barely kissed the tops of your breasts. You spotted a small wooden bucket resting on one of the stones nearby and reached for it, the wood warm against your fingers. You poured the water over your hair, again and again, the heat cascading down your shoulders, soothing the raw edges of your thoughts. It was a ritual, a cleansing, and as the water soaked into your skin, you felt the weight of the day begin to dissolve, leaving behind a languid heaviness that settled deep into your bones. Now, you felt it, how heavy and warm were your muscles.

But then, you felt it—a presence. It pressed against the edges of your awareness, a shift in the air that made you alarmed. You turned, the water rippling around you, and your eyes met his.

"What are you doing here?" your voice was pretty quiet. It didn't need to be louder since you were surrounded by silence or a quiet hum.

Satoru stood there, half-shrouded in shadows at the entrance to the water, his form outlined by the soft glow of the lanterns. A towel hung low around his hips, and a flush painted his cheeks, stark against the usually pale skin. His gaze was fixed on you, wide and unblinking, as if he had stumbled upon something he wasn’t meant to see. He blinked once, then twice, before his eyes finally rose to meet yours.

You glanced down and covered yourself from him with your hands, doing this surprisingly slowly.

"It's konyoku." he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as his eyes flickered downward again, tracing the path of water droplets as they trailed down your skin.

"What?" now you were beginning to blush from the weight of his gaze on you. You felt warmth spread across your cheeks, an echo of the blush that colored his face.

His eyes moved with agonizing slowness, drinking in the sight of every glistening drop on your skin. A different kind of heat simmered in the water now, not from the spring, but from the way he looked at you. You were hot, but not just from the water - you could feel the fire in the way his eyes devoured you.

"Konyoku, a mixed bath." you were sure his voice cracked slightly.

Realisation has struck you, hard.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought that since the spa was divided into sections, it would be the same with the onsen." shame twisted in your chest, tightening around your ribs, and you averted your eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment mingle with the warmth of the spring. You felt that you were making everything awkward right now by missing such an important detail.

"Calm down, I don't mind." his voice was low, soothing, as if trying to ease the tension that thrummed in the air between you. A smile flickered across his lips, a familiar, comforting expression that quickly faded when he noticed how much you were trying to cover yourself.

He took a step forward, his hand reaching out toward the towel hanging loosely around his waist. You turned your back to him instantly, instinctively, giving him the privacy you assumed he wanted. The movement sent ripples across the water, the sound echoing softly in the silence.

You felt the water move more and more as he approached you step by step.

"Are you ashamed of your spouse?" his voice came from right behind you, dripping with that familiar arrogance that always seemed to unsettle you in ways you couldn't quite explain. You felt the heat of his breath against your ear, and a shiver raced down your spine despite the warmth enveloping you "I thought you didn't mind seeing me after so long." his tone was teasing, but it was the way he said it, the dark edge to his voice, that made your cheeks flush not in pink, but crimson.

"Your view doesn't bother me." you replied, although your voice was not laced with confidence.

"Then why are you looking away?" his voice dropped, a whisper that sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath hitching involuntarily. You could feel the shivers dancing over your skin, and you clenched your hands tighter, trying not to let him see how much his proximity affected you.

"I'm not used to seeing you like this."

"Like what? After all, I sleep in just my underwear many times." his breath ghosted over your neck, the moisture on your skin amplifying every sensation. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on remaining calm.

"But you're naked now."

"And so are you." his hands found your hips, his touch gentle but firm, fingers pressing into your skin as if he wanted to feel every inch of you. He pulled you closer, and you felt it- him -pressing against your lower back. A gasp escaped your lips, your mind spinning.

What is he doing? He had never been this bold before.

You felt his lips graze the back of your neck, a featherlight touch that ignited sparks along every nerve. His mouth moved with an agonizing slowness, gliding over your most sensitive spots, while you struggled to keep your hands steady, to stop them from reaching out and pulling him even closer.

"I've changed you into your pyjamas many times.." he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against your ear "When you came back from missions, battered or when you fell asleep on the sofa." his hands parted in two different directions, easing you. One hand finding its place on your thigh, stroking around the inside of it, the other gently cupped your breast, gliding small circles with his thumb over the hardened nipple. Warm hands made you feel pliant under their touch "I know your body." his nose nuzzled against your neck, his breath warm and heavy, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

"Doesn't change the fact that it turns me the hell on." his words were a low growl in your ear, just before his teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shockwave through you. You couldn't hold back the moan that slipped from your lips, and you couldn't stop pressing your body back against his, feeling his hardness against you, eliciting a sharp hiss from him.

He tightened his grip around you, his hips pressing closer, moving in a rhythm that made your head spin. The friction between your legs pulsed with every subtle movement, and your skin felt like it was on fire, molten under his touch. His hand slid from your thigh to your chin, tilting your head back. When you looked up, his eyes were on you, half-lidded, burning with hunger. It was like staring into a blue inferno, his gaze devouring you whole. His hair was damp, sticking to his temples, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily. The sight of him, so undone, sent another wave of heat pooling low in your belly. You bit your lip glancing up at him.

The world around you faded, the fact that you were in a public space evaporating from your mind. There was only him, the way he looked at you, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he leaned in. The pounding in your ears matched the rhythm of the pulse between your thighs, and you felt the last thread of restraint slipping away.

He leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, so close you could feel his breath mingling with yours, warm and sweet. You parted your lips, waiting, wanting -

A sudden, violent splash shattered the moment, the water surging against your bodies. You both turned your heads, alarm breaking through the fog of desire. The water was roiling with movement, a hand breaking the surface, followed by a head gasping for air. Instinct took over as you pulled away from Satoru, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now.

Without thinking, you rushed toward the figure struggling in the water, hands slicing through the hot spring as you fought your way through the resistance.

"I'm coming! Please hold!" you grabbed a hand sticking out of the water and pulled hard, fishing out a very old gentleman who was coughing and gasping for air.

"Are you alright, Sir?" you asked looking at his face seeking confirmation. "Please be more careful, there is no barrier here and it is easy to slip." your tone was gentle yet firm, a blend of concern and reprimand.

"I'm totally alright. I apologise for myself." he croaked out, his voice thin and rasping as he tried to catch his breath. He offered a weak smile, his eyes clouded with age yet warm "I came here because it's my late wife's birthday today." he murmured, a toothless grin spreading across his face "I wanted to remember…" he caught his breath unevenly "…to remember…. of her favourite place…" his voice wavered, breaking on the last word. You guided him to one of the stones by the shore, seating him carefully as you submerged yourself in the water again, trying to offer him and yourself some dignity.

"This place has always looked like this… and my dear Suki…. loved to sit here…" he continued, his voice now more of a murmur, eyes distant. He began to recount his memories, fragments of a life filled with love and loss, perhaps as a way of thanking you for saving his. You listened, your attempts to excuse yourself gently rebuffed or entirely ignored. Every time you tried to retreat back to Satoru, the old man would draw you back in, his stories weaving a net of nostalgia that held you in place.

You glanced over at Satoru, a silent plea in your eyes. He was sitting on a stone, arms crossed, a scowl etched into his face. His eyes were dark, drilling into the old man as if sheer willpower could make him disappear. He didn't even try to mask his annoyance. You gave him a helpless smile, one that said - 'please, do something.'

He didn’t move. You could see the irritation rolling off him in waves.

Gojo was not happy that he was getting the biggest cockblock, from a guy who can't even walk. On the other hand, he was full of admiration for your nature and how ingrained you are in helping others. That's one of the qualities he really admires about you. Even if it means running to help someone, naked.

Finally, after what felt like ages, you managed to extricate yourself from the old man's grasp. With a quick apology, you slipped away, ignoring his attempts to pull you back into conversation. You swam over to Satoru, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off the elderly man. His scowl deepened, his jaw clenched as you approached. He looked like an angry kitten.

"Did he at least thank you?" Satoru's voice was low, edged with irritation that he didn’t bother to hide.

You sighed "No, but he did apologise for himself." you sat down next to him, on the rock below, water now reaching your neck. You leaned back, resting your head against the rough surface of the rock. A wry smile tugged at your lips. "I guess that counts as a thank you."

Satoru glanced away, his eyes shifting to one of the lanterns flickering in the deepening dusk. He was avoiding your gaze, staring off into the distance with a tight expression. The silence between you was thick, the weight of unspoken words pressing down like a heavy fog. It got quite dark and the light from the lantern became more visible. You opened your mouth to say something.

"About earlier- " you began, but were interrupted by.

"Nah, it's nothing. I just got carried away…" tone casual, too casual. He turned his head even more you to not face you. "Don't think about it too much, okey?" his tone sounded normal, but he still didn't look at you.

You felt a sharp pang in your chest, an ache that spread like a crack through a fragile surface. You could literally hear it. Not enough to shatter, but enough to leave a clear mark.

He just got a little carried away, huh?

So much for that. Just a moment of oblivion. Nothing more.

"I just shouldn't have... sorry." he dropped his arms to his sides, his body language mirroring the sudden distance between you

"That's okay." you forced a smile, the kind that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Nothing happened, right?" the phrase stung on your tongue, echoing words from the past, reopening wounds that had never fully healed. Your 5th anniversary. You chuckled bitterly, the sound hollow in the dim light.

Long moment pases.

He shifted uncomfortably beside you, his eyes darting around for an escape from the unbearable tension.

"How did you like the spa?" oh, this conversation is going to be awkward. You can see that he wanted to change the subject quickly and drop something that you both could loosely chat about.

"Oh… em…" you gathered your scattered thoughts, grasping for something to say "The treatments were nice, especially the peelings. The massages also helped a lot on my muscles and bones. And this place…" Your eyes flicked to his jawline, the water droplets clinging to his skin. "It’s relaxing."

"How about you?" you smiled, trying to keep the conversation going to avoid the awkwardness and painful thoughts that were simmering in your head.

Bitter, sore are your thoughts.

He sighed, his gaze fixed on the rippling water before him.

just got carried away just got carried away just got carried away

The words looped in your mind, each repetition a fresh sting.

"I liked everything." he admitted quietly and smiled a little "Mushiburo was kinda cool. So were the facial treatments and that deep tissue massage." he rested his cheek against his palm and his hand against the stone beside "I'm surprised you got everything so right for my preferences." you raised an eyebrow, managing a small, humorless smile.

"What is so surprising about this? I've known you for years, besides, you often steal my sheet masks." you giggled akwardly. Sometimes you'd purposely buy ones with nice scents, or with cute patterns on the material.

He chuckled, a faint smile breaking through his sullen demeanor.

"It's not my fault that they produce such good cosmetics. And with you, my pores keep opening up." you nudged his side playfully, and for a moment, the mood lightened, his usual toothy grin returning. Conversation immediately became lighter.

"And I still have to use earplugs to sleep." you teased, the mock irritation in your voice genuine enough to draw a laugh from him.

"You said you got rid of them years ago! Did you lie to me?" he gasped in mock horror, dramaticly raised his voice a little.

You shrugged, a wry smile on your lips "No, you just stopped talking in your sleep."

For a moment, laughter filled the space where tension had been. Yet, even as you shared that fleeting levity, you couldn't shake the shadow lingering in the back of your mind, the weight of the moment that had almost been, and the hollow ache of what it had meant to you compared to what it seemed to mean to him.

----

The two of you walked side by side down the dimly lit corridor, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and cedar. Your fingers brushed against each other briefly before you pulled your hand away, shoving it awkwardly into the pocket of your robe. Satoru didn’t seem to notice - or maybe he did, but he made no move to close the space between you.

The reception area came into view, its soft glow inviting but distant. You could see the receptionist standing behind the counter, busying herself with some paperwork, her eyes flicking up occasionally to check the room. As you and Satoru approached, the sounds of hushed voices and the distant hum of soft music greeted you, a stark contrast to the stillness of the onsen.

"Thank you for your visit." the receptionist greeted with a warm smile as you reached the desk. Her eyes shifted between you and Satoru, lingering for a moment on the tension that seemed to hang between you like a veil "I hope we provided an execptional service, you enjoyed your time here."

Satoru nodded, his face a mask of politeness. "Yes, it was... relaxing." his tone was measured, the usual playful lilt absent. Her smile never faltering, as both od you were giving her towels and accesiories.

"I’m glad to hear that. Would you like to schedule another appointment in the future?" her gaze shifted to you, expectant.

You hesitated, glancing at Satoru out of the corner of your eye. He was staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable. "I think we'll have to see about that." you replied, offering a polite but noncommittal smile "It was a lovely experience, though."

Satoru cleared his throat "Yeah, we'll see. Thanks for everything." He gave the receptionist a curt nod, already turning toward the exit.

"You're very welcome." the receptionist said, her smile remaining as she escorted Satoru to the exit with her shining eyes. She glanced back down at her paperwork, as soon as he leaves.

You followed him toward the door, feeling the weight of everything that had happened - and everything that hadn’t - settle onto your shoulders. The cool air hit you as you stepped outside, a sharp contrast to the warm, cocooning atmosphere of the spa. A very late evening greeted you with its light. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging clothes, tighter as you walked silently toward the small, barly lighten path.

Satoru walked ahead, his hands shoved into the pockets. His eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw something there, a flicker of emotion, maybe regret or confusion. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that casual mask he wore so well.

"So..." he started, his voice almost too casual "that was… an interesting expierience."

You let out a short laugh, the sound brittle and devoid of humor. "Interesting. Yeah, that’s one word for it."

You walked down a stone staircase down a small mountain, the forest that surrounded you seemed to grow brighter with every step you took.

He shifted his weight, looking down at the ground. "Look." he said after a pause "I don’t want things to be weird between us."

Your heart twisted.

Too late for that, you thought, but bit back the words.

Instead, you took a deep breath and forced a smile. "It doesn't have to be weird." you replied, though even you could hear the strain in your voice. "We’re adults. We can just... move on, right?"

You didn't want to spoil the mood for the rest of the trip.

You still had something grand in store for him, a surprise that should have been the highlight of his day. He deserved to enjoy it, to lose himself in the moment, and not be tethered by the cloud of your mood. You knew how to rein it in, knew your limits. This wasn’t the first time you'd found yourself in the midst of such a tangled situation, and you told yourself things would fall back into their familiar rhythm soon enough. They always did. Or at least, they were supposed to.

The real conversation, the one that weighed heavy on your mind, could wait. It had to wait. This was your one escape, your only holiday together, a time meant for joy and laughter, not for words that could splinter the fragile peace you'd managed to grasp. So you pushed it down, buried it deep, determined to leave it untouched until later. Not now. Not when you both should be basking in the moments that you had left.

He nodded, though his expression didn’t change "Right. Move on." he repeated the words, but they sounded hollow, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

A silence settled between you, awkward and heavy. You shifted on your feet, glancing around the stones, searching for anything to fill the void that had opened up.

"So, what now?" he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.

You glanced away "Well, we still have time." you admitted "Maybe we should just… go along the plan. We can already approach one place and get ready."

He ran a hand through his damp hair. "Yeah. Rest sounds good."

You were just a step away from the car when Satoru came to a halt. You paused beside him, the air thick with everything unsaid.

"You know." he began, his voice low, his gaze fixed somewhere in the darkness ahead "It’s okay to... talk about things, if you need to."

A tightness gripped your throat, choking off the words that clamored to escape. They lodged there, a heavy, unspoken weight. "I know." you whispered, barely managing the words. "But... maybe not now. Not tonight."

He inclined his head slightly, a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Not tonight." he echoed, the words hanging between you like a fragile thread.

He turned his eyes to you then, seeking, searching for something in your expression - some reassurance, some bridge across the chasm that had opened between you. But you didn’t have it to give. Not now.

So you forced a smile, a faint, fragile curve of your lips. It wasn’t much, a mere shadow of what you used to share, but it was all you could muster in that moment. And maybe, just maybe, it was enough for now.

----

Satoru stood in the dimly lit guest room, the scent of incense and freshly laundered fabric lingering in the air. The room was small but welcoming, its walls adorned with intricate patterns that spoke of the village's traditions. He glanced around, eyes catching on the various spools of thread and bolts of fabric neatly arranged in the corner - evidence of the woman’s craft. She was a tailor, and judging by the way the room seemed to hum with her skill, not just any tailor but one with years of experience and a touch for detail.

The elderly woman, now in her twilight years, had greeted him with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She had disappeared into another room and returned with the yukata draped over her arm, a beautiful navy blue garment adorned with delicate white clouds that cascaded into a soft gradient near the hem. The fabric shimmered faintly in the candlelight, each thread carefully woven to form an elegant, almost ethereal piece.

Satoru stared at it, his breath catching for a moment. There was something mesmerizing about the simplicity and grace of the design. The woman approached him, gesturing for him to take off his robe. He hesitated briefly, then complied, handing her his worn spa robe. She handed him the robes with a gentle nod.

As he held the garment, it felt impossibly light in his hands, the fabric soft and cool against his skin. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, feeling the smoothness glide over his skin. The elderly woman moved closer, her hands deftly adjusting the fabric over his shoulders. He let her work, dressing him layer by layer, standing still as she fastened the material around his waist, her movements practiced and precise.

Satoru glanced down at himself as she tied the obi, a dark navy sash that matched the garment perfectly. It cinched his waist securely, but not uncomfortably so, creating a sleek silhouette that felt almost regal. The yukata fell to his ankles, the hem brushing lightly against his skin with each breath. He turned slightly, catching his reflection in a small, polished bronze mirror hanging on the wall. The sight took him by surprise.

It fit perfectly. The yukata hugged his frame in all the right places, the sleeves hanging just so, the length tailored to his height with almost eerie precision. It was as if it had been made specifically for him, down to the smallest detail. He turned again, the fabric flowing with him like a second skin. It looked more beautiful than his clan robes.

He glanced at the woman, who watched him with a satisfied smile. "It suits you,." she said in a voice roughened by age but filled with pride. Her eyes gleamed with a knowledge that made him pause.

He wondered then, how much of this had been orchestrated by you. How quickly you must have moved to arrange this, to involve the village tailor, to ensure everything was perfect down to the last stitch. The realization sent a chill down his spine, not of fear, but of awe. How meticulous, how precise you were. It was both astounding and, in some quiet way, frightening.

But Satoru liked a scery women.

He chuckled to himself.

Gojo shifted his gaze back to the mirror, his lips curving into a faint smile. He could picture you now, working behind the scenes, your mind a whirl of details and plans. You had always been that way -considerate to the point of obsession, ensuring that everything was seamless, that every experience was as perfect as it could be. It was something he admired about you, even if it unsettled him at times.

He let out a soft breath, the tension in his shoulders easing as he took in the garment once more. This was so like you. To think of everything, even the smallest details, to make him feel… special. Seen.

The elderly woman stepped back, her work finished. She bowed her head slightly, a gesture of both respect and completion. "You wear it well, your wife sure has taste." she murmured, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Thank you." Satoru said, his voice softened, almost reverent. His fingers brushed over the fabric, feeling the texture under his fingertips. It was more than just a piece of clothing - it was a piece of you, a glimpse into the lengths you would go to for him.

He turned toward the door, ready to step out and show you. As he moved, the yukata flowed around him, its fit and design a testament to the care that had been put into it. And as he opened the door, a thought lingered in his mind, warm and unsettling: How well you knew him, how easily you could shape the world around him without him even realizing it until he was standing there, wrapped in it. He smiled again, this time a little wider, though the unease remained at the edges.

For now, though, he let it slip away. Tonight was meant for you and him, and the thought of seeing your face when you saw him like this… that was worth setting aside every other concern.

Satoru stood outside the small house, the evening air cool against his skin. He let out a slow breath, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the village lights began to flicker on, painting the landscape in hues of dark purple and pink. In the distance, the colored lanterns swayed gently, strung up between trees and around the central square, casting a soft, inviting glow. It was mesmerizing, the way they shimmered in the dusk, a quiet prelude to something that felt almost magical. He wondered if this was it, if this was the surprise you had meticulously crafted for him. The thought made his chest tighten with a mix of anticipation and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name.

He glanced down at himself, smoothing his hand over the navy blue fabric of his yukata, tracing the gradient of clouds that faded into the darkness near his feet. It felt different on him, not just because of the craftsmanship, but because of what it represented- a piece of you, woven into every thread. He took another deep breath, trying to steady the fluttering in his stomach. How long had it been since he felt this way? Nervous, excited, all at once.

The door behind him creaked softly, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned, eyes widening as they fell on you. For a moment, the world seemed to still.

You stood framed in the doorway, a vision of grace and elegance. The yukata you wore was a delicate pink, adorned with painted mountains and flowers that spread across the fabric like a whispered dream. Higher up, sakura petals floated as if caught in an invisible breeze, dancing toward your shoulders, adding an air of ethereal beauty to your silhouette. In your hand, you clutched a small handbag, its design mirroring the motif of your attire. Your hair had been styled with care, adorned with floral decorations that sparkled faintly with small beads, catching the light with every movement.

Satoru felt his breath hitch. For a heartbeat, he forgot where he was, lost in the sight of you. It was as if the world had been painted around you, a living canvas that paled in comparison to the figure stepping toward him. The quiet confidence in your steps, the way the fabric of your yukata moved with you, it took everything in him not to reach out, to pull you close and keep you there, a part of this moment forever.

You approached him, the soft rustle of your garments the only sound in the stillness of the evening. As you drew nearer, he could see the faint smile on your lips, the way your eyes gleamed under the lanterns' glow. You stopped just in front of him, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to hum with unspoken words.

He swallowed, searching for something to say, anything that could capture what he felt.

"You look..." his voice trailed off, the words faltering on his tongue. Perfect. Stunning. Ethereal. None of it seemed adequate. He chuckled, a nervous sound that surprised even him "You look beautiful." he finally managed, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

Your smile widened, a soft blush coloring your cheeks, and for a moment, he could see it, everything you had put into this, the care, the thought, the effort to create something that would make him feel... special.

It made his chest ache.

"Thank you." you replied, your voice soft, almost shy, a contrast to the confidence in your appearance "I see they found something that fits you perfectly." your eyes roamed over his yukata, taking in the way it hugged his frame "I was a bit worried about the measurements."

He glanced down at himself, then back at you, a grin tugging at his lips.

"I have to admit, it feels like it was made just for me. You really went all out, didn’t you?" there was a teasing lilt to his voice, but behind it, there was something else, an awe, a gratitude that he wasn’t sure how to express.

"Maybe I did. You deserve it, sometimes." you shrugged lightly, a playful glimmer in your eyes.

You reached out then, your fingers brushing against his sleeve, adjusting a small crease in the fabric. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a warmth spreading through him, settling somewhere deep in his chest.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the air between you charged with a quiet intensity. Satoru let his gaze drift back to the horizon, where the lights continued to dance in the distance.

"Is that where we’re headed?" he asked, nodding toward the colorful glow.

You followed his gaze, a secretive smile playing on your lips.

"Yes." you said, turning back to him. "But it's more than just the lights. It’s... everything. I wanted tonight to be special."

He felt his heart skip a beat at your words, the sincerity behind them. You had always had a way of turning the simplest moments into something extraordinary. It was one of the things that drew him to you, that kept him tethered to this feeling, even when everything else felt uncertain.

"Lead the way." he said, offering his arm to you. You hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it, your hand slipping into the crook of his elbow. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it was enough to send a thrill through him, a silent promise of what the night held.

As you walked together toward the lights, the village around you seemed to come alive, lanterns flickering to life one by one, guiding your path. Satoru couldn’t help but glance at you from the corner of his eye, the soft smile that graced your lips as you looked ahead. He wondered how he had managed to deserve this, to deserve you. And as the cool evening breeze brushed against his skin, he found himself hoping, wishing, that this moment could stretch on just a little longer.

And it didn't even started.

In the back of his mind, that familiar unease stirred, a whisper of fear at how much you could move him, how deeply you had woven yourself into his world. But for now, he let it be.

Tonight was yours, a carefully crafted world of color and warmth, and he wanted to lose himself in it, if only for a while.

----

As you walked together down the lantern-lit path, the air grew sweeter, carrying with it hints of caramel, fruit, and sugar. The colors ahead became more vivid, the soft glow of lanterns giving way to brighter lights that adorned the festival grounds. When you reached the entrance, Satoru came to a sudden halt. His eyes went wide as he read the banner hanging above the gate, the words written in an elegant script illuminated by string lights.

Regional Candy Festival

Satoru blinked, processing what he was seeing. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the scene before him, the entrance gate decorated with multicolored paper lanterns and ribbons that fluttered gently in the evening breeze. His eyes flicked to you, a mixture of surprise and wonder playing across his face.

"You... brought me to a sweets festival?" he asked, almost in disbelief. He had a soft spot for sweets, you knew it, you spoiled him with them.

You stepped in front of him, a grin tugging at your lips. "Yep. It happens once a year, and it's a big deal for the locals. They prepare for months, bringing together candy makers from all over the region. It's more than just sweets, it's a celebration of tradition and community."

He murmured something under his breath, his eyes flicking back to the festival grounds, where the lights twinkled invitingly. You watched as a faint blush crept up his cheeks. There was a boyish excitement in his eyes that he tried to suppress, but it was impossible to miss. His gaze darted back to you, still in a state of half-disbelief.

"Come on." you said, not giving him a chance to linger in his thoughts. You grabbed his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. He tensed for a fraction of a second before letting you pull him forward, his longer strides quickly matching your pace as you led him through the gate and into the heart of the festival.

The grounds opened up before you, a sprawling array of stalls lined up along winding paths, each one bursting with color and life. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional clink of glass jars being opened and closed. Rows of booths were adorned with streamers, paper flowers, and hanging lights that bathed everything in a warm, inviting glow.

The festival grounds were bustling with life, a vibrant tapestry of people woven together by the allure of sweets and the warmth of community. Everywhere you looked, there were clusters of families with children darting around, their laughter ringing out like music against the hum of the crowd. Parents called out to their little ones, balancing bags of candy and festival toys as they tried to keep up. Children with sticky hands clutched cotton candy or candied apples, their faces smeared with sugar and joy.

The stalls themselves were a feast for the eyes. Wooden tables were piled high with every kind of confection imaginable. Glass jars held rainbow-colored rock candy, shaped like precious gemstones that glittered under the lantern light. Trays were filled with handcrafted mochi, their surfaces dusted with delicate powders of matcha, strawberry, and kinako. You pointed to a booth displaying intricately molded sugar sculptures, delicate flowers and animals crafted with such precision they looked almost too beautiful to eat.

Couples strolled hand in hand, their expressions softened by the lantern light and the shared experience of this magical evening. They lingered at stalls, heads bent close together as they sampled sweets and whispered in each other’s ears. Some took turns trying their luck at the game booths, while others simply wandered, soaking in the sights and sounds. You watched as one couple fed each other small bites of mochi, laughing when powdered sugar dusted their noses. Another pair stood near the goldfish scooping game, the woman holding her breath as her partner carefully scooped up a tiny fish, cheering when he finally succeeded.

The festival was a haven for both locals and visitors alike. Groups of tourists mingled among the crowd, their eyes wide with delight as they explored the rich tapestry of traditions laid out before them. They snapped pictures of the stalls, the lanterns, and the intricately crafted confections. Some had even donned yukatas provided by the villagers, their vibrant fabrics blending seamlessly into the colorful scene. You could hear the mix of languages and accents, adding an extra layer to the festival’s melody. For many of them, this was a rare glimpse into the heart of the village, an invitation to share in something deeply cherished.

It was a beautiful chaos, a symphony of life and light, where every face held a story, every voice contributed to the joyous chorus. You and Satoru were just two among the many, woven into the fabric of this moment. But as he turned to you, his eyes reflecting the colorful lights around you, it felt as though the entire festival was just a backdrop to the world you two had created together tonight.

"Look!" you said, dragging him over to a stall where a candy maker was busy spinning fresh cotton candy into intricate shapes -dragons, flowers, butterflies -all infused with subtle flavors like lavender and yuzu. Satoru's eyes widened as he watched the man's hands move skillfully, weaving sugar into art. He bought it immidietly.

He was practically vibrating with excitement, his crystal blue eyes darting from stall to stall, each new sight triggering a fresh wave of childlike joy. It was like he had stepped into a wonderland of flavors and colors, and he was determined to try everything. His usual aloofness was nowhere to be found - instead, there was a wide smile on his face, pure and unfiltered, as he grabbed anything that caught his attention.

"Look at this!" he exclaimed.

The next stall you passed was filled with traditional Japanese sweets, wagashi in all shapes and sizes. Sweet bean paste and chestnut filling were encased in delicate, pastel-colored mochi. Some were shaped like tiny cherry blossoms, while others resembled seasonal fruits. Satoru couldn’t help himself - he reached out and picked up a small sakura-shaped wagashi, examining it with a kind of reverence before you nudged him to take a bite.

The moment he did, his eyes fluttered shut, a soft hum of pleasure escaping his lips as he melted into the taste. "It's so… delicate." he murmured, almost in awe, his usual animated demeanor replaced by a quiet appreciation.

You could hardly keep up with him as he moved through the festival, drawn to every colorful treat and sizzling skewer. He grabbed your hand again, and before you knew it, you were being pulled along, laughter bubbling up in your chest as you tried to keep up with his boundless enthusiasm.

Further down, you found a stall selling caramelized fruit, the skewers of glossy red apples and candied strawberries glistening under the lantern light. Without hesitation, you picked up a stick of candied strawberries and held it out to him, watching as he hesitated only for a split second before leaning forward to take a bite.

The moment the sweet and tart flavor hit his tongue, his eyes widened in surprise, and a delighted smile broke out on his face.

"Oh, this is amazing!" he said, his voice muffled slightly by the bite still in his mouth. He chewed quickly, the taste clearly captivating him. "It's like... sweet and sour magic on a stick!" he exclaimed, looking at you with eyes that sparkled with glee.

"You like it?" you teased, unable to stop smiling at his sheer enthusiasm.

He nodded vigorously, his gaze already drifting to the next stall lined with treats. His eyes were wide with wonder, darting between the rows of colorful mochi, the crackling sound of caramel being spun into cotton candy, and the steam rising from buns filled with savory or sweet fillings.

When he reached the booth with the caramelized fruit, he watched the vendor's hands intently as they dipped apples and strawberries into molten sugar, his eyes wide with fascination. "This… this is art." he murmured, almost reverently, before taking a bite of a candied apple, his expression turning blissful as he chewed.

You couldn't help but laugh softly as he moved through the festival, completely absorbed in every new experience. Satoru was such a foodie. He grabbed anything that caught his eye, his excitement so pure and infectious that it made the night even more magical.

You continued to wander, stopping at a stall where the vendor demonstrated how to make traditional hard candies, pulling sugar into thin, colorful ribbons before shaping them into delicate lollipops. You watched, captivated, as Satoru leaned in, utterly absorbed in the process. When the vendor handed him a lollipop shaped like a fox, his eyes lit up with the kind of joy you rarely saw, unguarded and genuine.

He moved through the festival grounds like a whirlwind, his eyes alight with curiosity and excitement as he surveyed the array of sweets laid out before him. It was as if every new sight, every fragrant scent, pulled him deeper into a wonderland of flavors. You could hardly keep up as he darted from stall to stall, his enthusiasm spilling over with every new discovery.

You laughed, charmed by his enthusiasm, as he moved on to a nearby stand selling mitarashi dango - skewered rice dumplings coated in a glossy, soy sauce glaze. Satoru took a skewer, eyeing the dumplings curiously before popping one into his mouth. His expression shifted through a series of reactions, starting with surprise, then contemplation, and finally pure satisfaction.

"It's sweet and savory at the same time." he marveled, licking the sauce from his lips. "The dango is chewy, but the sauce... it's got this depth to it. It's not just sugar -it's like... umami?" he looked at you as if seeking confirmation, his brows raised in excitement. "How do they make it so good?"

Before you could answer, he was already reaching for another treat - a yatsuhashi, a thin, cinnamon-flavored rice flour pastry wrapped around a dollop of sweet red bean paste. He bit into it, the cinnamon adding a warm spice to the sweetness of the bean paste. He let out a satisfied sigh, chewing slowly as if each bite needed to be fully appreciated.

"This one's so delicate." he said, holding it up to examine the thin layer of mochi encasing the filling. "The cinnamon just... wraps around the sweetness in this really comforting way."

You watched him with a fond smile, your heart swelling at the sight of him so genuinely happy. For all his power, all his strength, there was a part of him that remained untainted by the world - a part that found joy in the sweet and the simple.

And in that moment, you couldn't help, but fall a little bit more in love with him.

As you made your way through the festival, his hands never left yours. You sampled sweet potato candy, bean paste-filled pastries, and even shared a warm taiyaki filled with red bean paste, the crispy shell cracking open to reveal the sweet, steaming filling inside. Satoru's laughter mingled with yours as he stole bites from your hands, his eyes sparkling in the glow of the lanterns.

Hours seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, filled with laughter, sweets, and the simple joy of being together. At one point, you found yourselves standing in front of a booth that sold soft, fluffy daifuku. You insisted he try one filled with fresh strawberries and cream, and he obliged, taking a bite and closing his eyes to savor the taste.

Satoru looked like he was on the verge of a sugar-induced bliss, his hands full of various confections he had yet to finish. He turned to you, his cheeks flushed with excitement, his eyes shining. "I don’t think I can eat another bite." he admitted, laughing. "But... one more daifuku wouldn't hurt, right?"

You laughed.

"Right." you agreed, because watching him this happy was worth every indulgence in the world.

"I can't believe you found this place." he murmured, looking at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and gratitude. "You planned all this... for me?"

"I wanted to make you happy." your heart skipping a beat at the warmth in his voice.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at you, the noise and bustle of the festival fading into the background. "You did." he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

You smiled, a quiet happiness settling over you. The festival continued to buzz around you, the air alive with the scents of sugar and joy.

----

The festival grounds were alive with a hum of activity, each game station vibrant with laughter and the bright clink of prizes being won. Paper lanterns hung above each booth, casting a warm, welcoming glow that made the whole scene feel like something out of a dream. Satoru's eyes scanned the array of stalls, and a mischievous grin spread across his face as he took in the possibilities.

"How about a little friendly competition?" he suggested, his tone teasing, as he nudged you toward the first game booth: the ring toss.

The ring toss booth was simple yet enticing, with rows of bottles lined up behind a wooden counter, their tops painted in different colors. The goal was to toss rings and land them around the necks of the bottles. Prizes hung above the stall - stuffed animals, wooden trinkets, and even small bags of candy, each prize depending on the difficulty of the toss.

Satoru paid for a handful of rings and handed half of them to you.

"Let's see who wins more." he said, his grin wide and confident. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips.

You went first, taking aim at the closest bottle. The ring left your hand in a neat arc, clattering around the neck of the bottle with a satisfying clink. Satoru raised an eyebrow, impressed but undeterred. His turn was next. He flicked his wrist, the ring soaring through the air before landing perfectly around a bottle in the back row, the more challenging target. He turned to you with a smug smile.

"Beginner's luck." you muttered playfully, determined not to be outdone. The competition escalated from there, with each of you aiming for the most difficult bottles, laughter spilling over each time a ring missed its mark or clattered to the ground. In the end, Satoru managed to land more rings than you, and he leaned against the counter, grinning.

The vendor handed him a choice of prizes, and instead of picking something for himself, he turned to you.

"Your prize, wifey." he said in an exaggerated formal tone, selecting a plush fox with bright eyes and a bushy tail. You accepted it with a grin, hugging the soft toy to your chest.

Next, you made your way to the shooting gallery, where small paper targets were lined up on moving tracks. The air rifles were simple, old-fashioned models, but the challenge was in the steady hand and precise aim required to knock down the targets. Satoru stepped up confidently, glancing at you with a raised brow.

"Care to join me, or do you want to watch a master at work?" he teased.

"Master, huh?" You shot back with a smirk. "We'll see about that."

The booth attendant handed you each a rifle, and the game began. You both took turns aiming and firing, the sound of popping balloons and the clang of knocked-over targets filling the air. Satoru was annoyingly good at it, hitting the bullseye almost every time, his focus and sharp reflexes evident. But you weren’t far behind, managing to knock down several moving targets yourself.

In the end, Satoru won by a narrow margin. He turned to the vendor, pointing at a small, intricately painted porcelain fox figurine. He picked it up and turned to you, holding it out with a gentle smile.

"You spoil me." you replied, taking the figurine carefully. His only response was a casual shrug, but the way he looked at you, eyes softening in the warm light, said more than words could.

Moving on, you came to the goldfish scooping game, a traditional stall where delicate paper scoops were used to catch darting goldfish in a shallow pool of water. The challenge lay in the fact that the paper would tear easily, making it a game of patience and skill.

"Watch and learn." Satoru announced confidently, kneeling down by the pool. He dipped his paper scoop into the water, eyes tracking the fish. For a moment, it looked like he would succeed, but just as he went to lift a fish out of the water, the paper tore, and the fish slipped away. You burst into laughter, watching his confident expression crumble into one of playful annoyance.

"Not as easy as it looks, huh?" you teased, taking a scoop for yourself.

You bent over the pool, moving the scoop slowly through the water. You felt Satoru’s eyes on you, watching intently as you coaxed a small, golden fish into the scoop. With a delicate lift, you managed to catch the fish and place it into the bowl beside the pool. Triumph surged through you as you glanced up at him, a victorious smile on your face.

He shook his head, grinning. "Beginner's luck." he echoed your earlier words, making you both laugh.

The night continued with more games. At the dart-throwing booth, you took turns popping balloons pinned to a wooden board, Satoru effortlessly hitting the hardest targets.

That dammed Six Eyes.

When you missed a shot, he playfully nudged you aside, throwing his dart with dramatic flair and popping a balloon right next to yours. The booth attendant offered a variety of prizes, and once again, Satoru chose something for you - a delicate glass jar filled with colorful, star-shaped sugar candies.

Then there was the strength tester, a tall tower with a mallet that needed to be struck to send a metal weight up to ring a bell.

"Should I use my cursed energy?" he asked, feigning seriousness. "Or should I give everyone a fair shot at winning?"

"You mean to tell me you're so weak that you need to use your powers to win a festival game?" you shot back with a playful smirk, raising one brow in challenge

He feigned an offended look, but couldn’t hide the amusement twinkling in his eyes. He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. Without a word, Satoru hefted the mallet, swinging it with ridiculous ease. The weight rocketed to the top, hitting the bell with a resounding clang that echoed across the festival. The crowd cheered as he turned back to you, flexing his arm in mock arrogance.

"Show-off." you muttered, though your smile betrayed your amusement. Crossing your arms, you shook your head, trying to play unimpressed, but he was just too... him.

"Your turn." he said, holding the mallet out to you.

You took it, feeling a little weight of it in your hands. The crowd murmured, clearly intrigued to see if you could match the previous performance. You swung the mallet with a little efford. The metal weight shot up, reaching the top, drawing a round of applause. Satoru clapped the loudest, his eyes shining with pride as he pulled you into a quick, impulsive hug.

"That's my wife!" he proclaimed proudly, his voice carrying over the crowd. He was practically bubbling over with pride, and you couldn't help but smile at his excitement.

A few men in the back exchanged wide-eyed, almost intimidated glances, clearly taken aback by the display of strength.

You shrugged it off casually, feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention. "It was nothing special." you said, trying to play it cool.

"Who's the show-off now?" Satoru teased, his eyes glinting mischievously. He knew your strength well, of course - you were a sorcerer, just like him. But the opportunity to see you take center stage, to let the world witness a glimpse of the power he admired so much in you, made his chest swell with a little pride.

You shot him a playful glare, but your lips betrayed you with a smile. "Still you." you replied lightly, bumping your shoulder against his. "I just don't have to show off as often."

He chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you both turned to leave the booth.

The two of you moved from game to game, your laughter mingling with the sounds of the festival. The evening was filled with moments of light-hearted competition, Satoru trying to outdo you at every game, and you refusing to back down. He won more often than not, but each time he did, he chose a prize that he thought you would like - a stuffed animal, a small wooden charm, a delicate bracelet with tiny bells that jingled softly whenever you moved.

He wasn't just winning; he was showing you, in his own way, how much he cared. With each prize he handed you, his eyes held a tenderness that made your heart flutter. By the time you finished with the game stalls, your arms were filled with tokens of the night- small treasures that would remind you of this moment for a long time.

----

The crowd had thickened as the night wore on, and at some point, you and Satoru had gotten separated in the bustling festival grounds. He had turned around to say something to you, only to find an empty space where you had just been standing. His heart skipped a beat, a sliver of panic settling in his chest. He scanned the throngs of people, his height giving him a slight advantage, but he couldn’t catch a glimpse of your pink yukata amidst the sea of colors.

And he has a really good eyes.

Satoru moved through the crowd, his eyes darting from face to face. The festival was loud and bright, filled with laughter and chatter, but it felt strangely hollow without you beside him. A frown creased his brow as he began to retrace his steps, weaving through the clusters of families, couples, and friends. Where could you have gone? He wondered if you’d wandered off to one of the game stalls or perhaps been drawn to something that caught your eye.

Minutes felt like hours as he searched, his mind racing with a dozen possibilities. A part of him knew you were capable and safe, but the thought of you being out of reach, even for a little while, unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He turned a corner near a booth selling candied fruits and finally, he saw you.

You were walking toward him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Relief washed over him, mingling with the faint annoyance he felt for letting you out of his sight. As you drew closer, he noticed that you were holding something behind your back, hiding it coyly.

"Where did you run off to?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, but unable to mask the concern in his eyes.

"I didn’t run off." you replied teasingly, "I just got a little... sidetracked." you stepped closer, finally revealing what you had been hiding. In your hands were two matching bracelets, each coiled neatly with a small collar and string.

Satoru blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The bracelets were simple yet elegant. The one in your right hand was a deep blue, the color of the evening sky just before nightfall. It had a smooth, round collar of polished metal that shone subtly under the lantern light. Attached to it was a braided string, also blue, interwoven with fine silver threads that glimmered softly. The bracelet in your left hand was pink, a soft blush hue that mirrored the shade of your yukata. It too had a small collar, this one in a warm rose gold, with a braided string of pink and gold threads.

"I won these at one of the game stalls." you explained, your voice laced with pride. "Thought they’d be a nice little keepsake." you held them out to him, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

Matching.

They were matching, and it hit him with a warmth that spread through his chest. He reached out and took the blue bracelet from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. It was lightweight but sturdy, the kind of thing that wouldn’t break easily even if worn often.

"You got these for us?" he asked, his voice softer now, the earlier worry dissolving into something more tender.

"Yes." you replied simply. "I thought... it would be nice to have something to remember tonight by." You held up the pink one, showing it off with a small flourish. "This one's mine." you added with a smile.

He couldn’t help but smile back, the knot of tension in his chest loosening. He slipped the blue bracelet over his wrist, the string settling comfortably against his skin. The metal collar gleamed faintly, catching the light. It felt right, somehow, to have this - something small yet meaningful, a token of the time you had spent together.

You fastened the pink bracelet around your wrist, the rose gold collar glinting as it caught the reflection of the lanterns. For a moment, the two of you stood there, the noise of the festival swirling around you, yet feeling like it was just the two of you in that instant. He glanced down at your wrist, then at his, a small chuckle escaping him.

"Matching bracelets, huh?" he said, his voice teasing but his eyes warm.

You nodded, meeting his gaze. "Well, I thought there were cute." you said lightly, though your eyes held a depth that made his chest tighten.

He took a step closer, lifting his wrist to brush against yours, the two bracelets touching, their colors a striking contrast. "Thank you." he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "For this... and for everything tonight."

You smiled up at him, your eyes reflecting the colorful lights around. "You're welcome," you whispered, the simple words carrying the weight of all you felt.

----

As midnight approached, the festival grounds began to shift in mood. The stalls were still alive with chatter, but a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. People moved in the same direction, gathering toward the open space near the edge of the festival grounds where the fireworks would soon light up the sky. Families found their spots, children clambering onto their parents' shoulders for a better view, while couples huddled closer, whispering excitedly.

Satoru nudged your arm gently, drawing your attention away from the crowd.

"How about we get a better view?" he suggested, tilting his head toward a small hill that overlooked the festival. The slope was gentle and dusted with wild grass, illuminated softly by the glow of the lanterns scattered across the grounds below.

You nodded, letting him take your hand as he led you away from the crowd. The climb was short, the grass crunching softly beneath your sandals. You reached the top just as the first firework burst into the sky - a single golden streak that shot upward, hanging for a heartbeat before exploding in a shower of shimmering light.

From the hill, the view was breathtaking. The night sky stretched out above you, a canvas of deep indigo speckled with stars. It was vast and open, the kind of sky that seemed to pull at your very soul. The moon hung low, a silver crescent cradled against the horizon, its pale light mingling with the colors that now blossomed in the air.

Another firework followed, this time a bouquet of red and gold that spread wide before cascading down like a waterfall of sparks. You stood side by side with Satoru, your fingers still entwined, he didn't let your hand go feeling the soft evening breeze play with the edges of your yukata.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how you gazed up at the display, your eyes wide with wonder. The colors danced across your face, painting your skin in hues of emerald, sapphire, and ruby with each explosion. Your lips parted slightly, a soft smile forming as the sky above you came alive in bursts of color and light.

Satoru’s gaze softened as he watched you. He had seen fireworks countless times before, in different places and under different circumstances, but tonight felt different. It wasn’t just the beauty of the fireworks that captivated him - it was the way you seemed to lose yourself in the spectacle, the way your eyes sparkled with each new burst, reflecting the colors that lit up the sky. He found himself more drawn to you than to the display, your presence grounding him in a way that made the world seem a little less chaotic.

The fireworks continued, each one more magnificent than the last. Spirals of green and blue shot up, followed by crackling gold that spread across the sky like a phoenix spreading its wings. Some fireworks were loud and thunderous, their echoes rolling across the valley, while others were silent, fizzling into tiny stars that lingered for a moment before fading into the night.

You sighed softly, tilting your head to rest against his shoulder. He stiffened for a brief second before relaxing, shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable for you. He glanced down at you again, subtly, as if trying not to disturb the moment. The way you leaned into him, trusting, at ease, sent a warmth flooding through his chest.

More exploded, this time in a sequence of vivid purples and pinks, creating shapes that wove and twisted through the sky. The crowd below gasped and cheered, but up on the hill, it felt like the show was just you two, a private spectacle shared in the quiet space you'd carved out together.

Satoru's eyes flickered back to the sky for a moment, then back to you. The reflection of the fireworks in your eyes made them appear like two bright, endless galaxies, full of depth and life. He couldn’t look away. He wondered if you realized how radiant you looked in this moment, how the joy and serenity on your face seemed to eclipse even the brightest fireworks above.

The finale began, a rapid succession of bursts that filled the sky with color and light. Golds, blues, reds, and greens overlapped in a cacophony of brilliance, trailing sparks that lit up the entire valley. It was as if the heavens had opened, showering the earth with a celebration of light.

You inhaled sharply, your hand tightening slightly around his as the sky was filled with an intricate dance of sparks. In that instant, you turned your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. For a heartbeat, the fireworks ceased to matter. It was just you and him, standing there, the world around you a mere backdrop to this fleeting, perfect moment.

He offered you a small, genuine smile, one that reached his eyes and softened his features. Without a word, he lifted his free hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering near your cheek. The final burst of fireworks illuminated the sky in a blinding flash of gold, and in its light, you saw the sincerity in his gaze, the quiet depth of what he felt but left unspoken.

As the fireworks faded and the sky darkened once more, the echoes of the display drifting away into the night, Satoru leaned closer, his breath warm against your temple.

"Beautiful." he murmured, his voice low, though you weren’t sure if he was talking about the fireworks or something else entirely.

----

As the final crescendos of the fireworks show began to die down, the sky settling back into its inky darkness speckled with the faint glow of stars, you felt a familiar energy stir within you. It bubbled up, almost unbidden, a restless desire to add your own touch to the night’s spectacle. You glanced at Satoru, his gaze still turned skyward, his expression a blend of awe and contentment. For a moment, you hesitated, not wanting to disturb this serene moment. But then, a small smile tugged at your lips, and you decided you couldn’t help yourself.

You raised your hand slowly, focusing your energy into your palm. A soft light began to gather there, a warm, luminous glow that pulsed gently, growing brighter with each heartbeat. The positive energy bent and twisted under your will, taking form as it pooled into a delicate, shimmering shape. Satoru sensed the shift in the air and turned to look at you, his eyes widening slightly as he watched the light in your hand begin to transform.

Before him, the light morphed into the shape of a bird, its wings outstretched, its body composed of gold radiant. It was intricate and beautiful, each feather outlined in a soft, golden hue that seemed to pulse with life. For a heartbeat, it stayed there, perched in your palm, glowing brightly against the darkened sky.

Satoru stared, his eyes wide, breath held as he watched the luminous creature you had crafted. He didn't know you manage to lern how to create posivitve energy. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen, a pure manifestation of enegry, delicate and awe-inspiring.

With a gentle exhale, you lifted your hand and let the bird go. It took flight, rising gracefully into the air, its wings moving fluidly as if it were a living creature. It soared upward, leaving a faint golden trail behind it, weaving through the night sky with an elegance that took the breath away. The crowd below gasped as they noticed this new light, their eyes following the bird as it glided over the festival, casting a warm glow upon the faces of the people gathered.

Satoru couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. His usual composure cracked, revealing a look of raw wonder that you rarely saw on his face. His lips parted slightly, his eyes reflecting the hue of the bird as it climbed higher into the sky, the positive energy within it growing more intense. It was as if you had captured a piece of the stars and given it wings, a living embodiment of the night’s magic.

The bird flew above the festival, a graceful arc that seemed to bless the gathering below. It soared higher and higher, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a final, powerful beat of its wings, the bird exploded in a brilliant burst of sparkles.

The sky lit up with the most stunning shade of gold the world had ever seen, a color so vivid and warm it felt like sunlight breaking through the dark. It spread across the horizon, an eruption of light that outshone the final fireworks, cascading down in a rain of shimmering sparks that slowly faded into the night.

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their voices echoing across the festival grounds. They didn’t know where this last miracle had come from, but it didn’t matter. To them, it was simply the perfect ending to a perfect night.

Satoru stood frozen beside you, his eyes fixed on the fading light in the sky. Slowly, he turned to you, his expression one of utter astonishment. "You…." he began, his voice low and almost breathless. He struggled for words, his usual confidence slipping away as he tried to grasp what he'd just witnessed.

He didn't know you can bend energy like this. This was hard, for an average sorcerer this would took forverer to uderstand, or to even create it, but you just created a bird from it. Something so hopeful, full of light, to contrast the curses and darkness that you normally conquer or exorcise.

"You did that." he finished, his voice carrying a mix of awe and disbelief.

You looked at him, a playful glint in your eyes "I couldn't help myself, sometimes I want to show off too." you admitted, a small, sheepish smile on your lips. You glanced back up at the sky where the golden sparks had lingered, now just a faint memory in the dark.

He continued to stare at you, his gaze intense, as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. Then, to your surprise, his expression softened, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. It wasn’t his usual teasing smirk or the sly grin he often wore - it was a smile of pure, unguarded admiration.

"That was amazing." he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made your heart flutter. There was no pretense, no hint of the usual banter. Just those simple words, spoken with a sincerity that made your breath hitch.

He reached out, hesitating for a fraction of a second before his hand found yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, warm and firm, grounding you in the reality of this moment. His eyes holding yours.

You felt a warmth spread through you, different from the power you had just wielded. It was softer, deeper, something that came not from within you, but from this quiet connection between you and him. You squeezed his hand, your smile widening as you gazed up at him.

"Thank you." you murmured, the words barely audible over the cheers still ringing from below. But you knew he heard you, saw it in the way his eyes softened further, his thumb brushing gently against the back of your hand.

"Not a show off, yeah?" he teased. You just smirked at that comment.

The night sky was dark again, the fireworks over, the golden light faded. But for the two of you, standing there on the hill, the brilliance of that moment lingered, glowing quietly in the space between you.

----

Your friend’s car hummed softly as it navigated the quiet, winding roads back to the rental house. The festival was now a distant glow behind you, the sounds and lights fading into the night as the car drove through the peaceful countryside. Satoru sat beside you in the back seat, his gaze fixed out the window, lost in his thoughts. The soft glow of the dashboard lights cast gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the mix of emotions that swirled within him - contentment, tenderness, something deeper that twisted his heart with an almost painful ache.

You sat quietly next to him, the bag of prizes resting on your lap. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather a quiet after the storm of the evening, a shared stillness that spoke of the connection forged throughout the night. Occasionally, you glanced at him, catching the reflection of the moonlight in his eyes. Each time, he seemed to be miles away, caught in the lingering magic of the night’s events.

When your friend pulled up to the rental house, you turned to him with a grateful smile.

"Thank you so much for the ride." you said, your voice soft. He gave you a warm smile in return, waving off your thanks with an easygoing shrug.

"No problem." he replied, glancing at Satoru with a nod. "You two have a good night. Get some rest."

Satoru mumbled his thanks, distractedly opening the car door and stepping out. You followed, carefully gathering all the prizes he had won into your arms - the plush fox, the porcelain figurine, the small glass jar filled with sugar candies, and all the little trinkets that had come to symbolize the memories of the night. Satoru reached over to help, his hand brushing against yours as he steadied the tower of items. For a brief moment, your eyes met, and you both smiled, a quiet understanding passing between you.

"See you around." your friend called out before driving off, leaving you and Satoru standing in the driveway, surrounded by the stillness of the night. The rental house loomed ahead, dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the festival. You both moved towards it, carrying the night’s treasures with you.

Inside, the house was cool and dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. You walked into the living room, carefully placing all the prizes on the small wooden table. Satoru watched you from the doorway, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his heart feeling strangely heavy. You moved with a quiet grace, arranging each item on the table with care. The sight of it - the plush toys, the small trinkets, the delicate bracelet still on your wrist made something in him twist painfully.

He felt raw, like every barrier he had carefully constructed around his heart had been stripped away by the night. Watching you smile softly at the collection of prizes, your eyes glowing with the warmth of the evening, he felt a surge of emotions that left him feeling fragile.

Vulnerable. Eager.

A deep yearning for tenderness, for some word or touch that would ground him in the storm of feelings swirling inside.

You glanced up at him, catching the look in his eyes, so open, so full of unspoken things and you felt your own chest tighten. You gave him a gentle smile, one that didn’t need words, before turning toward the bedroom, carrying a small bag with you.

"I arranged with the seamstress to pick up the yukata tomorrow." you said over your shoulder as you entered the room. "We can leave them here tonight." your voice was light, matter-of-fact, but the simplicity of the statement seemed to pierce through him, highlighting the fleeting nature of it all. The night, the festival, the moments of connection, it would all end with the dawn, leaving behind only memories and the ache of what once was.

He stood there, rooted in place, feeling like he could shatter with the slightest touch. The need for some form of closeness, some affirmation that this wasn’t just a dream, burned within him so fiercely it was almost painful. He watched as you placed the bag down on the small table in the bedroom and you began to take off your hair decorations, the fabric of your yukata rustling softly in the quiet.

Satoru swallowed hard, his throat tightening around the words he couldn't bring himself to say. The house around him felt both too large and too small, the space between you a chasm he desperately wanted to cross. Every step you took, every soft movement, felt like it was tearing him apart with a longing he could barely comprehend.

You turned back to face him, sensing the shift in the air.

He was standing in the doorway, his eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your breath catch. There was something in his eyes, that dream like blue gazing, something raw and unguarded that you had never seen so openly in him before. It was as if all the walls he had built up over time had crumbled, leaving him exposed and yearning for something he couldn’t quite name.

"Satoru, is eveything okey?" you whispered, taking a step towards him. You were so caring, so devouted, so... His name on your lips was a lifeline, a tether to reality in the midst of his tumultuous emotions. He watched you close the distance between you, feeling the vulnerability within him flare up, a stark contrast to his usual self-assured demeanor.

He didn’t know how to ask for what he needed, didn’t even know if he could.

But as you stood before him, your eyes soft and searching, he felt a glimmer of hope, that maybe, just maybe, this tenderness he craved wasn’t out of reach.

Satoru stood there, every emotion crashing against him like relentless waves. The gentleness in your eyes, the way you looked at him with such unguarded warmth, made his heart twist painfully in his chest. He wanted to reach out, to close the distance between you. The need to touch you, to feel the solidity of you against him, was so strong it hurt.

He had spent so long keeping parts of himself hidden, maintaining that cool facade, but this night had unraveled everything deep within him, leaving him raw and aching for more.

You stepped closer, sensing the turmoil within him, the battle waging behind those intense crystal eyes. Your hand moved almost instinctively, reaching up to brush a strand of his hair from his forehead. The touch was feather-light, but it was enough to break something inside him. He inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, as if savoring the feel of your fingers against his skin.

When he opened his eyes again, the vulnerability there was unmistakable. He didn’t try to hide it. Instead, he let you see everything, the longing, the fear, the desire for something more than words could express. You felt the weight of his gaze, the way it bore into you, pleading without a single sound.

"Satoru?" you asked, whispered his name again, your voice a soft anchor in the storm of his emotions. It was a question and an answer all at once, an invitation for him to close the distance if he wanted to.

And he did. God, he did.

He reached out slowly, his hand trembling slightly as it cupped your cheek. The warmth of your skin beneath his palm sent a jolt through him, a reassurance that this was real, that you were here with him. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. It was so simple, yet it held the weight of everything he had been yearning for all night.

His other hand found your waist, hesitantly at first, then with more certainty, pulling you closer. He needed to feel you against him, needed to know that this connection wasn't something that would fade with the night. Your bodies came together with a quiet sigh, fitting perfectly in a way that felt like the culmination of every unspoken word and stolen glance.

Satoru pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes falling shut as he breathed you in, the scent of your hair, the warmth of your breath against his lips. It was overwhelming and grounding all at once. He didn’t move for a moment, just held you there, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

"I..." he began, his voice hoarse, choked with the rawness of everything he felt. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words.

How could he tell you that you made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying, yet so breathtakingly beautiful?

How could he explain that you made him feel more alive than he had could ever imagine?

But you didn’t need him to say it.

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with understanding, with the same mix of emotions that were tearing him apart. You brought your hands up to his face, cradling it gently, your thumbs brushing softly over his cheeks. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut once more, a quiet sigh escaping his lips.

" 'toru.." you whispered, the sound of his nickname a soothing balm against the rawness of his heart. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."

He opened his eyes then, staring down at you, searching your face for something - permission, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t a dream. And what he found in your eyes was everything he needed. Acceptance, tenderness, a silent promise that you were here, truly here, with him, in this moment.

Unable to hold back any longer, he closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It wasn’t hurried or rough - it was a quiet plea, a soft surrender to the feelings he had kept locked away for so long, that sometimes slipped from him in his weakest moment. His lips moved against yours with an urgency born from the fear, that this might slip away if he didn't hold onto it tightly enough.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. You kissed him back with the same intensity, meeting his vulnerability with your own. It was as if every touch, every breath you shared was weaving you both closer, binding you in a way that felt unbreakable.

He pulled you tighter against him, his hands moving from your waist to wrap around your back, holding you as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. The kiss deepened, slow and aching, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that neither of you could fully express. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no rental house, no onsen, no festival, no past or future - only this shared space between you, warm and safe.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged, his eyes still closed as if savoring the lingering taste of your lips on his. He felt fragile, like he might shatter at any moment, but in the most beautiful way possible. You had cracked him open, and for the first time, he didn’t want to close himself off again.

"I just..." he started, his voice breaking slightly. "I just needed this." his words were almost a confession, a quiet acknowledgment of the vulnerability that had overwhelmed him.

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Me too." you whispered back, your voice steady and full of a certainty that eased the tightness in his chest. You were here with him, present and real, and that was enough.

He let out a shaky breath, his grip on you tightening for a moment before he relaxed into the embrace.

"Stay." he murmured a plea. He didn’t mean just tonight. He meant here, in this space you had created together, in this fragile yet undeniable connection.

And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that was exactly what you intended to do.

Satoru's breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to keep control. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every inch of his skin tingling with the need to be closer to you. The kiss, the way you held him, had set something loose inside him.

"I... I can't hold it anymore." he confessed, his voice low and raw, edged with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. He swallowed hard, his breath hot. His eyes were intense, a storm of desire, fear, and longing swirling within them. "I just... can't."

He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening as if realizing how close he was, how tightly he was holding you. He stepped back an inch, his hands dropping from your waist, as if he had been burned. His gaze flickered with uncertainty and something close to panic.

"I'm sorry." he blurted out, his voice cracking. "I didn’t even ask... if I could... if you wanted this... if I could ever touch you like that."

Well, he didn't asked it at onsen. Not that it mattered, when you craved it so much.

It was so unlike him - the confident, arrogant Satoru you knew - standing there with his shoulders tense, his eyes searching yours desperately for reassurance. He looked fragile, his usual facade stripped away to reveal a man who was vulnerable and uncertain, terrified of crossing a line that would push you away.

You felt your heart squeeze painfully at the sight of him like this. Without hesitation, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a firm, reassuring embrace. His body went rigid for a heartbeat before he melted into your hold, his hands coming up to clutch at your back as if you were his lifeline.

"It’s okay." you murmured into his ear, your voice steady and soothing. "I want you to touch me. I want this." you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your gaze soft but filled with certainty. "I want you, Satoru."

Something shifted in his eyes at your words, the fear giving way to a rush of relief and desire that made him shudder in your arms. He let out a shaky breath, his hands moving up to cup your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if he was still trying to believe that this was real. His eyes searched yours for a moment longer before he leaned in again, capturing your lips with a hunger that left you breathless.

This kiss was different from the first, a torrent of passion and longing that had been held back for too long. His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding down to your waist before finding the belt of your yukata. He paused, his lips hovering over yours, his breath warm and ragged.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." he whispered, his voice a mix of command and plea, his eyes locked onto yours.

You shook your head, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Don’t stop." you replied, the words barely a breath "I don’t want you to stop."

He needed no further encouragement. His fingers deftly untied the belt of your yukata, the fabric loosening around you. He kissed you again, harder, faster, as his hands slipped beneath the material, pushing it off your shoulders in a slow, deliberate motion. The fabric slid down your arms, pooling around your feet in a soft whisper. You felt the cool air against your skin, but it was quickly replaced by the heat radiating from him as he pressed his body against yours.

You gasped into his mouth, the sensation of his hands on your bare skin sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. He pulled back slightly, his eyes tracing the line of your collarbone, the curves of your body now exposed to him. There was no arrogance in his gaze, no smugness, only awe and reverence, as if he was seeing you for the first time, even if he saw you over the course of years together so many times.

It made you feel beautiful, cherished in a way that went beyond the physical.

Your hands moved to his waist, finding the belt of his yukata. You paused, your eyes meeting his in a silent question. He nodded, his gaze dark and intense, silently giving you permission. With trembling fingers, you untied his belt, letting the fabric fall open. He shrugged off the yukata, the material slipping from his broad shoulders, revealing the hard lines of his body.

He stood before you, every inch of him laid bare. His body was always a perfect view to admire. For a moment, you both stood there, the weight of what was happening sinking in.

Then, slowly, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him. Skin against skin, his warmth enveloping you entirely. You let out a soft sigh, your hands finding their way up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

He bent his head, his lips trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a line of fire in their wake. His hands roamed your body with a mix of urgency and tenderness, exploring every curve, every contour. You arched into his touch, your own hands sliding up to thread through his hair, holding him to you.

"Satoru..." you breathed, his name a whisper on your lips.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours. They were dark with desire, but there was something more there - something that made your heart ache. Vulnerability, tenderness, the look of a man who had finally allowed himself to want something deeply, fully.

"I need you." he said, his voice barely more than a rough whisper, his hands tightening on your waist. "Can I?"

You answered him with a kiss, pouring everything you felt into it -your desire, your acceptance, your own vulnerability laid bare. You pressed closer, letting your bodies meld together, the world around you fading into nothingness. There was only the two of you, standing there in the dimly lit room, skin against skin, heart against heart.

Slowly, he guided you back towards the bed, his movements careful and deliberate. Every touch, every kiss, was an unspoken promise, a silent declaration that this was real, that this was more than just a fleeting moment. As you sank onto the bed, he followed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes locked onto yours with a gaze so intense it made your breath catch.

He kissed you again, softer this time, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart swell. He held you like you were something precious, something fragile that he never wanted to let go of. And in that moment, as his lips traveled down your body, as he worshiped every inch of you with his touch, you knew that this was the start of something you both had been waiting for to happend again, something that went beyond words, beyond the night.

His body was bathed in the soft, dim light of the room, the contours of his muscles standing out in sharp relief. You had seen him like this before in passing years with him, but in glimpses, that had never lingered. But now, with nothing between you, there was a quiet intensity to his presence. He was beautiful, every inch of him carved with a kind of grace that took your breath away.

His hand reached for the clasp of your bra behind you and undid it in an efficient motion. You wondered for a second, how much practice he got out of you, over the years you'd spent together, if he'd learned that smooth move through you.

His gaze returned to you, his eyes raking over your body, now laid bare almost before him.

His hands moved tentatively at first, fingertips grazing the delicate skin just beneath your collarbone, tracing downward toward the swell of your breasts.

You could see the way his throat worked as he swallowed, his pupils dilating with every inch he explored. His fingers were warm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before they finally settled, cupping your breasts gently. He paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, his gaze softened, filled with something deeper than just desire.

The way he looked at you made your skin prickle with heat, not from embarrassment, but from the sheer power of his desire. It wasn’t just lust in his eyes, it was an admiration, a raw need that made your heart thud in your chest.

"So beautiful." he murmured, almost to himself, his voice low and husky. He leaned down, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the curve of your breast, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. The tenderness in his movements was at odds with the intensity in his eyes, as though he were fighting a losing battle to savor every second without rushing.

Slowly, he reached out, his fingers grazing the curve of your waist, trailing down your hip, and finally, over your thigh. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued to explore your skin, his hand moving with a mixture of awe and possession.

"God." he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "You’re... perfect. You always were." there was an almost pained quality to his voice, like he was struggling to find the right words to express what he was feeling.

You reached up, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. His muscles tensed under your touch, a subtle shudder running through him as you traced the lines of his body.

Satoru moved then, his body pressing against yours, skin to skin, the sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. He kissed you again, harder, his lips claiming yours with a fervor that made you dizzy. His hands slid down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs as he shifted, pulling you closer to him, as if he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, drawing him nearer. His body pressed against yours fully now, the heat of him sinking into you, making you arch into his touch. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged against your lips as he rested his forehead against yours. For a moment, you both just breathed, the rhythm of your heartbeats filling the space between you.

"I’ve wanted this." he confessed, his voice raw and strained. "I’ve wanted you... for so long. Again."

You didn’t reply with words, there were none that could capture what you felt. Instead, you pulled him down to you, your lips finding his again in a kiss. The way you moved against each other, the way you fit together, felt like a completion, the rubbing against eachother, like something that had been missing had finally fallen into place.

You felt him everywhere, his presence overwhelming, consuming, and you surrendered to it completely.

Satoru suddenly went down. Each kiss sent shivers down your skin. Kissing your belly, lower abdomen and the inside of your thighs. Until he came to the place that needed it most, covered in a thin material. His white hair tickled your delicate skin.

"You are so wet." he gasped, mesmerised, running his finger over the soaked fabric. Shame crept onto your face, you wanted to hide your face, but you couldn't take your eyes off the fascination and hunger his face expressed. He played with the slippery material for a while, charmed by your reaction as you wriggled and shook slightly, waiting for more. You thought you were going to burn, that you couldn't stand the friction, which sent waves of heat and anticipation into every cell of your body. His hands glided down your legs, pawing at the material of your underwear and finally slipping it off, showing him a sight that was finally not covered or obscured by anything.

“I missed this view.” he placed one tiny kiss on you, on that tender spot, eliciting a gasp from you, making you come alive.

He was so focused. Watching you shine all over there for him. One finger slipped suddenly into you, bringing out the gasp from your lips. He slided in so easily, that you should be ebarressed by this easiness. You tightened your fingers on the fabric of the sheet.

He pumped it inside you a couple of times, stretching the walls slowly, like he was exploring. Then added another, pumping a little faster and firmer. He searched for tempo, angle, rhythm that would elicit as much sound from you as possible. Your moans and gasps filled the room, as he finally observed, what made you tremble and your toes curl. His fingers were perfect, long, so wonderfully filling.

You couldn't comprehend how perfectly they straddled your walls, how perfectly they hit all your sensitive spots, that you dreamed of targeting every time you let your tension ease. Without success.

He started working his mouth too, kissing, sucking and licking with such ferocity, that you thought you could see stars from every move his mouth made. You couldn't concentrate, the world felt dizzy, you bit your lip to keep quiet, not wanting to sound stupid from the pleasure you felt.

This encouraged Satoru to increase the intensity of every thing he performed on you. His fingers began to slide in faster and deeper, even though you thought it was impossible. His tongue licked a bigger chunk of your flesh, and his mouth sucked harder, eliciting shivers from the orchestration that was happening on you.

Your other hand weaved into his hair, catching a large chunk of white curls and pressing his head slightly, against you. He growled lightly, pressing himself closer to you. His nose rubbed against your clit with every movement of your hips, which caught a rhythm of their own, chasing something you longed to reach. Your legs shook and you could feel everything inside you building, swirling looking for a way out.

"Please, please…" you begged breathlessly, absolutly drowned in pleasure. You wanted it so badly. He made you wanted it. So much that you didn't think about what you were talking about, that you didn't know where you were. You only knew that he, his touch, was driving you to the edge.

It all grew inside you, higher and higher, until it finally shattered you, arching your back and tightening your thighs against his face. Orgasm spread over you like a wave, leaving you shaken and vulnerable. Stronger, than you could have imagined.

You squeezed your thighs tighter instinctively, somehow trapping his face between your legs, as he guided you through the whole process extending your pleasure to the end.

Satoru didn't seem to mind, growling and moaning a little. More than once he joked about how he could die between your legs, but you never took his words seriously. Until now.

Your chest rose and fell in heavy, irregular breaths. A haze of bliss clouded your senses, leaving you utterly dazed. Your hands, once clenched tightly in the sheets, now lay limp at your sides, your body sinking into the bed, as if it could melt into the warmth that enveloped you.

Satoru watched you with a satisfied, almost smug expression, his lips curling into a flirtatious smile. There was a gleam in his eyes, a mixture of pride and possessiveness, as he took in the sight of you, completely undone, caught in the afterglow of the pleasure he had drawn from you. He raised a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully, while his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He could still taste you on his tongue, a taste that lingered, rich and intoxicating.

He had tasted so many sweets tonight, but nothing compared to the taste of you. You were, without a doubt, the sweetest thing he had ever experienced.

He moved up slowly, his lips leaving a heated trail along your skin as he made his way back up to you. You could feel every breath he took, the warmth of his exhale sending shivers through you. As he hovered over you, he paused for a moment, his gaze locking onto yours, he wanted to gave you a minute to gain consciousness.

As soon as he noticed the dazed look in your eyes begin to fade, the focus slowly returning, Satoru didn’t hesitate. He moved with swift precision, lowering his head to press his lips against the delicate skin of your neck. His kisses were hot and urgent, trailing along the line of your throat, igniting sparks across your skin.

You gasped softly, your senses still heightened and your body sensitive to his every touch. He kissed you there with an intensity that made you arch into him, each kiss lingering as if he wanted to imprint himself into every inch of you. His lips traveled to the sensitive spot just below your ear, where he nipped gently before soothing the skin with his tongue, drawing a shiver from you.

His hands were not idle, they moved up your sides, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

As Satoru pressed his body closer against yours, you felt something hard, sizable, and warm against your pussy. You could feel it sliding over your wet folds, latching onto your clit teasingly, soaking up your wetness and spreading it all over his member, smearing a white pearl of precum on the tip. You were almost drooling.

It was a sensation you hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity, a feeling you'd been yearning for, one that made every nerve in your body come alive. Now, here you were, your body trembling with excitement and need.

His mouth found the curve of your neck, and you felt a gasp escape your lips as his teeth grazed your skin. He hissed softly, the sound a mix of restraint and desire. His hands were everywhere, gliding over your waist, your hips, as he held you close, making you two rub agains eachother with more friction. A soft moans and gasps escaped your lips.

He moved to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his lips pressing firm yet gentle against your pulse point. You could feel the heat of him, the tension in his muscles as he fought to keep himself in check. He pressed himself against you with more force, rubbing against your entrance teasing it, making you hold your voice.

"Look what a mess you've made... of me." he murmured against your skin, his voice rough, almost ragged. He bit down softly, eliciting a sharp inhale from you, and then soothed the spot with his tongue, sending a wave of warmth coursing through you.

Your hands found their way to his hair, threading through the soft strands, holding him to you as his mouth continued its exploration. Each hiss against your neck, each brush of his lips, sent sparks of electricity shooting through your body. It was as if every nerve ending was attuned to him, responding to every little touch, every sigh against your skin.

When he finally lifted his head to look at you, his blue eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. He held your gaze, his lips parted slightly, his breathing shallow.

"Tell me." he whispered, his voice barely more than a husky murmur, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me what you want."

There was no teasing in his voice now, no playful smirk on his lips, just raw honesty and a need for you to guide him, to let him know this was what you wanted too.

With a shuddering breath, you tilted your head slightly, baring more of your neck to him in answer.

"I want you." you whispered, your voice trembling with the emotions swirling inside you. "I want all of you."

The tension was unbearable, every second stretched into eternity. You felt like you were going mad, the need consuming you, overwhelming every thought until you could barely stand it anymore. Your voice, breathless and trembling, broke the silence.

"Satoru." you whispered, your voice thick with desire. "Stop teasing." a bashful command. Your words, so raw and urgent, sent a shudder through him.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as though savoring the power of that moment, of your need for him, but the look in your eyes must have driven him over the edge, as he lifted your leg slightly, making more room, and guided the tip to your entrance, pressing gently against it.

A short moan broke from your lips as you felt him stretch you. Satoru wanted to slide in slowly, giving you time to get used to it, but you were so wet, so eager, that you accepted him at once. That suprised you both, as you gasped for air.

He didn't even know that he had pushed his hips all the way in unconsciously, too lost in the pleasure and the feelings he had inside to think logically. His eyes softened, his expression changed, his brow furrowed and his mouth opened, letting out a sweet moan.

"F-fuck, so tight... so wet…" moved gently backwards and pressed himself to the very end "A-ah, fuck!"

He filled you up so well. You put your legs around him pressing him closer to you, wanting to feel every last bit of his member. Satoru definitely let himself be carried away by the pleasure, pressing his lips to your neck and rolling his hips in a slow rhythm at first.

Every thrust he made you shiver and pleasure spilled from your lower abdomen to your entire body, dulling your mind. The rythm was nice and slow. His cock reached to the deepest parts of you kissing your cervix with every move.

It didn't take long before his movements began to speed up. Thrusting into you faster and with greater intensity, making you unable to control the moans that were coming out of you. His member lapped deeper, deeper and deeper, until you drove your nails into Satoru's back from the sensation, as he hit your g-spot. He whined, as you dragged your nails across his back.

"That's the spot, huh?" he said with an exhale of broken breath.

A few moves like that and you were both drunk on pleasure. He was so vocal, moaning, whining, gasping, complimenting how wonderful you were to him, how good it felt, how you take him so well.

He shifted, his body moving against yours with more precision, as he adjusted the angle of his thrusts to hit the sensitive spot inside you every time.

You could feel the tears coming to your eyes. It felt so good, so wonderful, as his cock penetrated your insides, meeting a point that took your breath away and made you dumb with pleasure.

You were so cockdrunk you were begging for more.

"Plase, more.. aaahn~" your eyes rolled back "j-justlikethat… ah 'toru.. please!" you repeated his name like a prayer, as he fulfilled your every little request - on more, on harder, on faster.

His thrusts were relentless and the sound of skin slapping against skin was everywhere.

You could feel the second orgasm gathering inside you, even more intense than the last one. Satoru must have felt it too, because he lowered himself to your ear to whisper a question.

"Where…?" he gasped, another moan breaking out of him as you pressed his hips with your legs, making his head fall onto your shoulder, helpless from the amount of pleasure you both felt.

"Inside." you cried, as he began to kiss away ever tear that fell down your flushed cheeks.

You were so close, you felt like you're gonna burn until nothing's left. What send you over the edge was his thumb, making it's way between your colliding hips and rubbing your sensitive clit that send another wave of pleasure that compleatly washed you away. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back, leaving marks for him to admire later.

He felt how you tighted against him, he growled, feeling he is going to bust in just a few seconds as well.

He kissed you hurriedly, swallowing your moans, as he rapidly pounded into you with everything that has left in him. He pulled away from your lips. For moment he rested his forehead against your, as his movements began to be stutter.

"Please sweetie, take me there." his voice sweet from pleasure "I want it so bad.. please."

A few harder thrusts and his body tightened against you. A loud moan escaped his swollen lips, as pressed his hips as far as he could into you. His cum painted your walls white, everything spilling inside you like warm lava.

His head fell numbly onto your breasts.

His chest rose and fell in sync with yours, each breath a quiet testament to the intensity of the moments just passed. You lay there together, your bodies tangled in the sheets, the air around you warm and still. Your breathing was slowly starting to calm down.

Slowly, you reached out, your fingers seeking his. The moment your hand found his, he squeezed it gently, a silent exchange of everything that words couldn't capture.

A soft smile crept onto his face, one that spoke of contentment, satisfaction, and something deeper that had been unspoken for far too long. He turned his head to look at you, eyes softening as they met yours. There was a glow to him now, a tenderness that made your heart beat faster.

You turned your head, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, feeling the sweat-dampened strands of his hair against your lips.

He pulled out of you, leaving behind a feeling of emptiness, his cum leacking from you, staining the sheets, but now coulnd't care less.

You will clean it later. Maybe.

Satoru shifted beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist in a gentle, but firm embrace. He pulled you closer, tucking you against his chest, as if he needed to feel every part of you pressed against him to believe this moment was real. You snuggled into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck, his warmth enveloping you completely.

For a moment, you both simply lay there, breathing in the calm that had settled over you like a warm blanket.

Then, you lifted your gaze to meet his, and he was already looking down at you, his eyes soft and bright. There was a glimmer of something playful in his eyes, something so unmistakably him.

A small giggle bubbled up from his chest, and before you knew it, you were both giggling softly. It was the kind of laughter that came from a place of pure joy, a sweet, almost childlike sound that filled the room. His laughter was warm and contagious, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched you.

"You're such a dork." you whispered between giggles, unable to stop smiling.

He let out a breathy laugh, pulling you even closer "Says the person who’s giggling right along with me." he teased back, his tone light and filled with affection.

You both dissolved into another fit of soft laughter, your foreheads pressing together as you shared this small, tender moment.

Satoru's lips moved gently over yours, soft and unhurried, as if savoring each kiss like it was the first. His hand cupped your face, fingers tracing light patterns on your skin, while your own hand absentmindedly stroked his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was calm, peaceful, the perfect kind of afterglow, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

But then, reality began to creep back into your mind, and with it, the thought of what came next - what people would think, especially those closest to you. You let out a soft sigh against his lips, pulling back slightly to rest your forehead against his.

"What do you think Megumi’s going to say when he sees us like this?" you murmured, a hint of amusement in your voice, though the thought gnawed at you a little.

Satoru chuckled, the sound low and warm, vibrating through his chest. His eyes glinted with that familiar playfulness, the corners of his lips curling into a small, teasing smile "Megumi?" he echoed, tilting his head to look at you "He'll probably think some curse took over us." he said, his voice light with amusement "Either that, or he'll just roll his eyes and pretend he's not surprised."

You couldn’t help, but laugh softly at that, the image of Megumi standing there with his usual unimpressed expression coming to mind "He would, wouldn't he?" you replied, shaking your head "I can already see the look on his face."

"Yep." Satoru continued, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead "He'd just sigh and probably mutter something about how troublesome we are. But you know he wouldn't really mind. Deep down, he'd be happy for us."

You smiled at his words, letting them settle over you. It was true, Megumi had always been quietly supportive in his own way "Yeah." you agreed softly, your fingers tracing random patterns on Satoru's chest "But still... it feels strange, like we've been hiding this part of ourselves for so long, and now it’s just... out there."

Satoru hummed in agreement, his lips moving against the side of your temple.

"Maybe." he admitted "But we were never really hiding, were we? We were just... finding our way here." his hand moved to your back, stroking it gently, a soothing rhythm that made you relax even further into his embrace.

"It is real." he murmured against your skin "And maybe it's a little strange, and maybe Megumi will think we’ve lost our minds, but this is us. And I think we’re exactly where we’re meant to be."

You closed your eyes, feeling the truth of his words settle into your bones. It was real, and it was beautiful in all its strangeness.

"Yeah, that true." you whispered, turning your head slightly to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks."

Satoru grinned, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light "Exactly. And if anyone asks, we’ll just tell them the strongest sorcerer finally met his match." he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, earning a laugh from you.

"You really are impossible." you teased, shaking your head.

He just smirked, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against yours again "Only for you." he whispered, his voice soft and full of warmth.

He continued, his expression slightly changed.

"But honestly, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re my wife - not just on paper anymore." his eyes softened as he looked at you, the weight of his words sinking in "We've been each other's since we took care of one another, and now… now we’re really together." he continued "I've always been yours, I was too scared to accept this. Now.." his blue gaze still focused on you "I'm not afraid."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the moment, but everything to do with the feeling of finally being seen and claimed in the way you had always longed for. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone as you looked at him with a softness that mirrored his own.

"And you’re finally my husband. We’re finally together. The way we were always supposed to be." you replied, your voice trembling with the emotion of that truth.

It had taken eight years, eight long years of pretend marriage for you both to truly become this - a union that was more than just a title, more than just a piece of paper, more than friendship and sharing duties. It was real now, tangible in every kiss, every touch, every word shared between you.

He grinned at that, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of joy and relief "We have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time." he added, his voice tender, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. "No more half-measures, no more walls, no more running away. "

You nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears, tears of finally being seen, of being loved the way you had always longed to be.

"Just us." you whispered back, leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand anchor you.

"Yeah." he murmured, his lips brushing yours in the softest of kisses, sealing the promise between you. This was where you were meant to be, where he was meant to be. Together, in the quiet after the storm, finally, undeniably, whole.

"Just the two of us."

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auspicioustidings · 2 years ago

Text

Savage

Summary: Request for some Scottish warrior Soap taking an English maiden as a prize.

Words: 3.7k

CWs: Violent non-con (I am so serious, do not ready this if it's not your thing), hardcore smut

–

Authors Note: This is very much a rape fantasy. Traditionally rape fantasies have historical grounding in minorities who felt ashamed of their own desires so had to fantasise a situation in which they were blameless for engaging in a stigmatised action because it was forced. It’s sort of where a lot of the noncon trope in bodice rippers comes from because women in unhappy marriages need a fantasy in which they can get rid of the shame for wanting passionate or rough sex because they imagine they fought against it. A lot more people have rape fantasies than people generally realise and truly a miniscule barely there number of them would ever think it was ok to actually assault someone. All that to say, this is not me condoning anything in real life. If you find fantasies like this don’t do it for you, then do not read it, but don’t then shame people who do. There is psychology behind why people fantasise about these things, it’s pretty normal and you don’t need to be worried that it is some moral failing. Mind your business.

It was a miraculously good match for you, a high ranking soldier of the King’s army. You were technically of noble blood, but just barely. You lived simply, not in a large house but in a small village where you held no sway over anyone else and were treated as common. But the village was close to the border between England and Scotland and every day it became more tense as whispers of raids from villages to the West skittered between houses like rats.

You didn’t know how your uncle had made arrangements for this beneficial marriage for you, but it would get you moving South in a few days time to marry and then you would finally be able to relax with this war much further away from you. You had heard horror stories of what happened to young maidens when savages came pillaging. They said that they didn’t wear anything under those kilts, they said it was to make it easy to bury their cocks in any hot hole they could find. They said they didn’t have any tame qualities, not like the English. Scottish men were feral, the comparison to dogs not holding water because at least dogs could be trained.

When you retreated to bed you got on your knees to say your prayers. As always you had to beg forgiveness for the licentious thoughts that sent thrills straight to your cunt whenever you thought about the images all those rumours put in your head.

–

The noise of chaos woke you in a panic, heart hammering against your ribcage as the smell of smoke drifted on the air and war cries sounded. You recognised your own kinfolk of course, the battalion of soldiers stationed here to keep eyes on the border. But it was the cries of those animals from the country to the North that sent you scrambling out of bed in only your chemise, knowing you had to run and hide before they could see you.

You slipped out of the bedroom, a frightened little rabbit looking for a burrow to hop into. The smell of smoke was stronger in the main room and you could see the orange glow of flames through the window. Going outside would be a risk, but hiding in here may get you burned to a crisp should this building be lit up. You did not have time to make the decision as the door burst off of its hinges, a muscular man in a blood spattered kilt with a warrior's mohawk and wild eyes panting like a dog as he caught sight of you.

You were frozen, unable to even breathe. And then after a beat his mouth stretched into a horrid manic grin as he bounded towards you. That finally shifted you from freeze to flight as you scrambled back through to the bedroom, trying to get to the small window. You threw the top half of your body through the gap but his rough hands grabbed your naked ankles and yanked you back, hard. You felt the chemise catch on the window frame, the fabric bunching up to completely expose you to him before he let go of your ankles letting you crash to the ground.

Your knees throbbed from the hard floor and by the time you were trying to crawl away he had his hand in your hair, brutally pulling your head up and craning it to look at him leaning over and getting into your face.

“Hear I have a wee noble bitch on my hands.”

Of course he would know. There were families here who would tell them anything to save themselves and pointing them in the direction of a noble maiden, one who was betrothed to an English soldier at that, would certainly be information that could spare them. The shouts outside sounded more heavily weighted towards those in his own gruff and growling accent now. The English soldiers were losing.

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about ser” you cried gently, not knowing how else to save yourself.

“Bonnie words” he growled, pulling so sharply at your hair that you thought your scalp might be bleeding and using his other hand to grope meanly at one of your breasts through the rough fabric of your nightwear.

You cried out, feeling the tears immediately spill over and stream down your face. He was so strong, you could barely budge against his hold, and he reeked of blood and fire and sweat and hot arousal. You squeezed your eyes shut and he only growled at you.

“Ye’ll keep those eyes open, yer going tae watch yer wee English cunt take me like a whore or I’ll take yer tight arse instead.”

You choked on a sob and opened your eyes, seeing that his were full of sick glee and heat. The hand groping at your tits moved under the chemise to cup roughly at your sex and he pulled you to your feet by that hand. You screamed at how it felt as he abused you with his hand, grinding the heel against you. You felt a hot flood of bitter shame as he swiped a finger violently through your folds. What he found there made him pause for a moment, his face lighting up in unrestrained glee.

“Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”

You had heard women who said it would be better to be wet if they were to be taken against their will. You did not agree. Him knowing that your traitorous body found his rough abuse of it arousing was so humiliating you felt you would rather die. He was so oppressive in his demeanour, so big and aggressive above you that you imagined he may break your bed with what he was about to do to you. How foolish of you to think he would have that level of mercy.

“Going tae show all those bastards how their women take Scottish cock” he laughed, spearing two fingers inside you to their full length with no softness at all and pulling you by them.

You could not breathe. You had never had anything inside you and those two fat fingers felt like they were stretching you so much you would tear. He walked backwards so he could keep them firmly inside you and you stumbled pathetically after him, needing to keep as close to him as possible to stop the painful press against your walls that came from him pulling if you did not move.

The shame was overwhelming as you emerged, full of his fingers and stumbling after him with tears streaming down your face, to find that your country's soldiers had been defeated with the survivors on their knees, hands bound. You were being paraded in front of them you realised, they had been put right here in the town square so they could bear witness, the Scottish soldiers standing behind them feral and full of lust as they took in their leader pulling you in front of them by the cunt.

When he ripped his fingers out of you, your knees buckled and a high whine left you. You had went from feeling too full to feeling far, far too empty. You could barely hear anything but the blood rushing through you as your heart hammered. That and him as he taunted the soldiers on their knees.

“Our women would ne’er let ye touch them, they’d die first. Yer clean wee English princess on the ither hand?” he said, planting a booted foot to your chest and pushing until he had you pinned on your back underfoot, “she’s gagging fir it. Foaming at the gusset tae take strong Scottish cock, put a real warrior in her belly.”

His own men cheered at that and you watched on with horror as he cocked his head at one of them and he began to approach you.

“Naw a monster though am I my wee slut? Ye’d be wet enough fir one of their small English cocks nae doubt, but fir mine? Going tae need something to help me sink in good and deep.”

The other soldier went to his knees between your legs and you watched as he pulled his throbbing cock from under his kilt, jerking it violently. You tried to move away, his cock so close you could feel the heat of it between your legs, but the boot on your chest held you still. When you tried to close your legs the man touching himself used his other hand to wrench one of your knees until it was touching the ground, using his own knees between your thighs to help him keep your glistening cunt fully on display.

When the head of his cock stroked through your folks, slicking you with his pre-cum and bumping at your clit, you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t quite manage to bite back your moan. They laughed meanly at you as the man found his release, spurting hot cum all over your pussy, smacking his cock against your stomach when he was done to shake off the last drops.

It was filthy, you felt sticky and like you were on fire. The next soldier took his place and spat right on your already disgusting cunt as he began to stroke himself. By the time he had painted you with his seed and the third was started, the man above pressed his foot harder to get your attention and all you could do was stare up into his taunting eyes, trying to focus on him so you could not think of what was going on between your legs. You cried up at him, trying to find any level of sympathy in him.

“Keep crying and I’ll gie ye something tae cry about princess.”

Oh you hated him calling you that when you were pinned down in the dirt, defeated soldiers of your country watching as their enemies smeared their cum all over your exposed body. Watching as they made a sloppy mess out of you in preparation for their leader to shove his cock deep inside and pump you full of his savage children.

You did not know how long you stared up at him, not able to look away as you felt the heat of his men on your body, your own body getting hotter and hotter with each slide of velvety throbbing skin against your own. He had started to talk to you, his eyes not budging. It wasn’t the defeated soldiers he was taunting, it was you, ruined and disgraced under his boot.

“See how good I am tae ye little whore? Letting my men make ye flush wi pleasure. Don’t deny it, think I cannae see yer face whenever ye feel a cock on that wee untouched pussy? Like a fucking bitch in heat. I’ll fuck ye like one. Get ye on yer hands and knees so ye can look yer precious King’s soldiers in the eye when ye fall apart on my cock. When ye’r fucking begging for my cum. Wilnae even have tae dae any work, ye’ll be fucking yourself back on me ye needy slut.”

You shook your head in horror at his claims, the true fear being that he would make them true. Already you felt in a daze, felt empty and desperate. But you felt fear as well as he put his arm under his kilt, rucking the fabric up to grab at his cock. It was huge and you found yourself panicked and squirming as the last of his soldiers grunted and slapped the meat of your thigh to get you to stay still. You were rambling incoherently as the man above stroked slowly at himself, causing that thick weapon between his legs to throb and seem even bigger.

“It won’t fit, it’s not going to fit, please I’ll die, you’ll split me open. It’s so big no no I can’t, I can’t!”

You didn’t even feel the last of his soldier’s loads splatter onto you, didn’t notice when his hands left your flesh. You would have rapidly purpling skin in the shape of fingerprints all over your thighs from how you had been held still by all of them, but you could not feel the dull pain of it through your fear of what was to come.

“Ye’ll take whit I gie ye and ye’ll fucking thank me princess.”

He removed his foot and it was only then you realised that he had been pressing down hard enough that your breaths had been shallow. The rush of oxygen from being able to fully expand your lungs again made you horribly dizzy, but it also flooded right down to your clit and made your body jerk violently with the sensation.

He didn’t take his hand from his cock and he bent so he could use the other to grab your ruined hair again, yanking your head up and shoving himself into your mouth. You choked, legs scrambling to get underneath you to give you some stability with which to batter your fists against his thighs, trying to pull away. He laughed meanly at your attempts, moving the hand that was touching himself to join the one tangled in your hair on the back of your head and pulling your head at the same time as he thrust forward, settling himself fully in your throat.

You were gagging around him, tears really streaming down your face now as you begged him with your eyes to let you breathe. He held you there, his own eyes glittering with satisfaction, until your muscles started to give in and you felt your eyes dropping closed as your brain became cottony. Then all at once he pulled you off and you were gulping in oxygen around your coughing and sputtering, the rush much more intense this time.

He held your head tilted up at him so he could watch your face as he shoved his boot between your legs and got you over the edge. Oh weren’t you a delicious little thing for him, getting off so hard on how he used you, moaning shakily and wantonly in the dirt beneath him in front of his triumphant soldiers and your defeated ones.

“Good fucking girl” he growled with a feral grin, letting you ride it out with little aborted thrusts on his boot, unable to control your body.

You looked gone, eyes glazed and body slack. Couldn’t have that, he needed you screaming for him. He needed your blood fighting between being frozen with terror and boiling with need. And he needed you full of him, needed to be able to feel his own cock through your stomach so fucking clearly that he could jerk it.

You were thrown forward, top half of your body collapsing pathetically into the dirt right where it was covered in the sweat and cum of his soldiers. He manhandled your hips up, leaving your face crushed into the dirt and your ass up high for him, cunt presented. You felt his hot breath at your ear and it was a sudden shock when you realised he was growling lowly into your ear, his words for you and you only.

“S’going tae hurt, yer going tae scream yerself hoarse for me and then I’ll get ye tae milk me when I rip pleasure out of all that pain. Will treat ye right after little princess, like one of my good Scottish lassies, but right now ye’r my fucking English whore.”

The confusing mix of sentiments cleared some of the fuzziness from your mind but you had no time to dwell. He was right, it did hurt and you did scream yourself hoarse. He had lined himself up and plunged into you, cock coated and slick from the cum of his soldiers but no less huge inside your tight virgin pussy. He had split you in two, you were sure of it. His cock must have broken through you, was sitting in your ribcage and punching all the air from your lungs.

You blacked out for a moment, coming right back to when he pulled out to fuck brutally back into you again, slapping your ass so hard that you felt the sting all the way up to your fingertips and making you choke on the sob that fought through the screaming. He ripped at your hair, making you look at the defeated soldiers on their knees. Making you watch their own cocks swell at your treatment. Your utter ruination was making them hard. Your head being wrenched back meant you had to go to your hands as he pounded you, and you saw how they looked as one of your breasts was fucked right out of the chemise, bouncing lewdly for them to see with every hard thrust.

The humiliation had you digging into the dirt like you had claws, feeling the bite of the earth pushing under your nails. It sparked something in your brain, almost like you could see them sharpen. Like you could feel your shoulder blades become more pronounced, become something sinewy and sleek and animal. He was fucking you like a predator and you were drooling and howling and panting like his prey, back bowed as he pulled your hair harder and had to staring at the sky babbling prayers into the night air.

“S’too much, can’t, I can’t. Full, too full.”

“Ye fucking can. Yer tight fucking cunts trying tae strangle me, wants my cum so bad naw? Perfect English pussy, so slutty and needy for a real cock” he growled, hand letting go of your hair and smacking your ass right over where he had before, causing you to howl at the pain.

The pain and something else, something that had no place here and yet had been lingering from the moment he had caught you. Something that had been getting closer and brighter and more insistent with every abuse you were subject to. Something that he invited in when your arms collapsed beneath you without him holding your heads weight anymore and he ground your face into the ground before bringing his hand to your clit and pinching.

Your scream was raw and hoarse, throat well past being able to produce a clear sound. The orgasm was blinding and every bone felt like it had liquified. You saw white and then you saw hardly anything, only vague shapes and colours. The only thing now was how his cock filled you. The shame was gone, replaced with the truth that you loved this. You loved how he used you like this, how he violated you in front of these soldiers just because he could.

“That’s it princess, fucking take it” he hissed, stopping his thrusts and letting you do all the work.

You didn’t even realise now how you wildly fucked yourself back on his cock trying to chase the pain of overstimulation, addicted to the way it made you feel some sick hazy pleasure. You were drooling onto the dirt, tasting the earth mixed with cum and finding the disgust of it only felt right now. When his hand came to your stomach and pushed to feel himself bulging there you came again, harder, babbling thank yous to him.

He bit out a string of curses above you as your pussy squeezed so hard it was forcing him out, but he was strong as he forced himself balls deep and held there, finding his release as you milked everything out of him and into your womb. The liquid heat of it was the last thing you felt as you passed out, blissed and fucked out of your mind.

–

John MacTavish allowed himself a moment to lean his body against your back, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt and cum and fear and lust from your limp body. So good for him, took it perfectly. He hissed when he finally pulled out, resisting the temptation to just keep going beyond what would feel good because fuck, being inside you had been a religious experience.

He was nothing if not a man of his word though, and he scooped your body gently into his arms to get you onto a horse and ready for him to take over the border where he could give you that princess treatment he had promised. The surviving soldiers they would leave beaten and bloodied but not dead. After all, someone had to tell your betrothed all the details.

“Fucking MacTavish” he hissed after excusing the man who had given the report.

He had made him give it in full detail, told him to leave nothing out.

“Kept her alive by the sounds of it, maybe looking to get a bastard out of her” Garrick mused.

“Knowing him he’ll keep her near the border to taunt us instead of moving her further up North” Price added.

Simon Riley would not be letting his betrothed get away with allowing MacTavish of all people to take the maidenhood that rightfully belonged to him. She needed a proper punishing fuck from an English man to learn better.

“Doesn’t matter where he keeps her. I’m going to take her, and she’s going to learn what happens to sluts who spread their legs for those Scottish bastards”.

#mhairiwrites #fanfic #cod au #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #cw: noncon #rest assured this isn't likely to become the kind of thing I write because it is well out of my wheelhouse #I've got a half chapter of Firewatch written and will finish that off #But I'm looking to do a little more of the Teashop AU after and that is going to stay fluffy and wholesome as hell #darkfic #dark content

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year ago

Note

Bro you actually got me wanting to marry farm sans 😭 he's so out of my league though. What a man. I like that the whole community wants them to get together too, sans is one of their boys, they gotta have his back and hype him up a little!! I just know there's a monster in town who's offered to plan the wedding for sans, and old ladies love gossiping and playing matchmaker if left to their own devices

"dangit. you found my hiding place before i did."

You jumped, glancing up and over your shoulder, distracted from staring out into the dark. But you relaxed once you saw who it was.

"Ah, sorry." You didn't actually want to move. You immediately felt better for Sans being there, even despite the events that had just transpired, some of your wound-up stress leaking away. "I can go find a new place to cower from socialising,"

"nah, this is fine." Sans sat down on the step, right beside you, letting out a relaxed sigh. He held out a glass of monster champagne to you - you (obviously) accepted. "s'more than enough room for two."

He was right. The beautiful little veranda was spacious enough for a whole party of people. It just so happened that the party had retreated indoors, now that night had fallen. From your spot sat on the edge of the veranda, you could faintly see the lights of the rest of the village, the muffled murmur of the dinner party going on in the house behind you not quite enough to mask the sound of the wind rustling the grass.

You fiddled with the glass. Sans' knee was almost touching yours. He smelled warm, comforting.

"Nice party." You mumbled.

Sans leant back slightly. "yeah. dinner is always good when felinus is hosting."

"Don't tell anyone I said this, but it's much nicer than Theodore's."

"i know he's a dolphin. but still don't get why he only served seafood."

...

You looked at him, and those pretty green eyelights focused onto you.

"So... are you also running away from the matchmaking?"

Sans' smile dropped - then he let out a somewhat pained noise, leaning forward and putting his skull in his hands. You couldn't help but giggle.

"m'so sorry," he groaned. The tension in the air had eased now that you'd finally broached the subject.

"It's fine. Really." You nudged him with your elbow. "It's just old ladies having a laugh. It's probably the most entertainment they've had in a long time."

He rubbed his face. "i know, i know. i just... stars, they're so pushy. it's mortifying watchin' them corner you like that."

You recalled the slight jump of fear you'd had when a cohort of delighted elderly bunnies had seemingly materialised out of thin air in the party to determinedly tell you it was such a shame a 'delightful human like you' was single. They then heavily reiterated how single Sans was, how much he clearly liked you, and what a 'lovely young man' he was.

"They can be strong-willed. That's for sure."

Sans sat up, but seemingly couldn't look at you. "i don't want you to feel some typa way about me because of them."

"... Some way?"

"i know yer anxious to fit into the community." He picked at the fraying sleeves of his knitted blue sweatshirt. "i don't want you to feel... like you have to date me, if you want to be accepted. you can date who you want. or not date. or whatever. i dunno,"

Oh. Your heart fluttered in your chest a little. "I don't feel like that at all."

He eventually looked at you, sheepish. "you sure?"

"Yeah." You waved your hand, eager to cheer him up. "They can be a bit pushy, sure. But it's all in good fun, right? It's not like they're chasing us into a church with shotguns. The worst they've done is very obviously set us up as dance partners at the festival."

A wave of relief seemed to pass over him. "or get us walkin' opposite ways 'round the market so we'll bump into each other."

"Besides." You smiled. "If they like me enough to try to set me up with someone they know, must mean I'm 'in'. So I'm all sorted on the community infiltration front."

He softened even more, nudging your knee with his. "that's true. they love ya. they'll like ya whether or not they've harassed you into datin' me."

"Not like I'd need to be harassed into that anyway."

...

Sans seemed to realise what you'd said before you did. His eyelights, in an instant, were double their usual size

...

"... what'd you say?" He was staring at you.

...

... You could feel the heat creeping over your face, neck and ears. Your mouth had instantly glued itself shut. You didn't answer his question - you just stared at your untouched champagne glass.

...

"SANS! HUMAN!"

Both of you jumped, this time, you felt the cold champagne splash out of the glass and onto your hand as you dropped it entirely. When the two of you turned around, Papyrus seemed just as startled by your reactions as you were to him; he was stood just outside the door, car keys in his hand.

"P-Papyrus!" "bro,"

Papyrus, immediately, gave you and Sans a shifty look. But he quickly covered it up again.

"WE SHOULD HEAD OUT NOW, HUMAN, IF WE WANT TO DROP YOU HOME BEFORE MIDNIGHT."

You and Sans quickly stood, bolt upright, at the same time.

"You-"

"i'll go say goodbye to everyone. you two get the car backed out."

"Sure. Sure,"

Before you could say anything else to him, Sans had hurried past his brother, back into the house. Papyrus watched him head inside with visible confusion written across his face.

...

"... HUMAN," Papyrus glanced at you. "WHAT DID MY BROTHER SAY TO YOU?"

"Uh, I'll..." You fiddled with your hair. "I'll, m, I'll tell you in the car."

#llama writes

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drefear · 8 months ago

Text

Written in Blood

Summary: you're just a girl from the village, a place that worships an infamous vampire for his immortality, and one night a year, he hosts a big party in his castle. You finally got an invite, and unlike everyone else, you're less than excited.

TW: blood, drinking, unwanted advances, sex, p in v, loss of virginity, blood drinking.

Glasses of champagne clinked as you straightened your shoulders, nervous and gulping heavily. The music would have lulled you and made you relax in any other scenario, but you were in the vampire castle tonight and the idea of not knowing who could try to drink your blood was making you anxious. Ballgowns swished and swayed, but you stayed glued to the wall, a flower unmoving among a field of breezy flora. All the girls in the village were so excited to be invited, the one night a year that the Lord of the Vampires invited any humans into his mansion, and you were finally of age to be invited. Everyone in the village that was of age received an invitation personally signed with his name and theirs, and when you went to the market for your family a month ago, you saw all of the girls fawning over the extravagant letter with their names in calligraphy and signed in heavy, black ink. You only felt your stomach become filled with rocks, seeing your name in his handwriting and thinking that your blood would be next.

You snapped back into the present when you watched the townspeople dance and laugh, eating their fill and making conversation like you all weren’t inside of the abode of the monster who murdered tens of your every year. The pins in your hair made your skull ache, but your mother was determined to make you look like a porcelain doll. She sent you in a large dress that was almost as puffy as a pastry, but you insisted on black. You wouldn’t wear one of those frilly pink or blue gowns that you saw in the windows of boutiques, you wanted something that matched the dreadful feeling in your chest. You wanted everyone to know how you felt.

Vampires and humans mingled, but you stayed to yourself and refused to dance with everyone who asked so far. Glancing upwards towards the massive crystal chandelier in the center of the room, surrounded by smaller ones, you noticed a balcony where someone stood in all black as well, watching the party from above. Your arms folded over your chest and you thought how no one else here was dressed in all black as well, not a single person except you and this stranger. His eyes caught yours and your gasp fell in your throat, choking out as a cough.

His bright red eyes stared into yours, you could see it all the way from the corner of the ballroom where you stood, and you instinctively took a step backwards. You blinked a few times and he was gone from where he stood, now making you look around frantically and gasp once more.

Your name made you jump until you recognized a boy you grew up with in your school. His hand was outstretched to yours and his smile was bright as he wore an all blue suit with navy embellishments. You chewed the inside of your cheek and pinched at the meat of your hand as you calmly shook your head and curtsied, but he stepped closer.

“I’ve seen you standing here all night, come have one try around the dancefloor with me and then you can retreat back into your shell.” He encouraged, but those red eyes were stuck to the back of your eyelids and you shook your head once more. He wasn’t leaving and you furrowed your brow in frustration. Truth be told, you just wanted to leave and now you were being haunted by both that terrifying gaze and this insolent boy you knew. “It’d be a shame if that dress went to waste, you should show it off. I know how much your mother worked on it, she was in the tailor buying fabric every week for the last month.” He joked and you politely smiled. “And we should get acquainted, since your father and mine have discussed an arrangement of marriage.” He answered and you fell silent, shock coursing through your veins. “You didn’t know? Well, we both have competing businesses and it seems that our parents think combining our businesses would be beneficial.” His answer made you feel hollow until the band stopped and a gasp fell over the crowd.

Turning your head, you saw the man dressed in all black standing at the center of the french doors that led to the ballroom, at the top of a staircase. He looked like royalty, which is also how he was treated among your town and surrounding towns that worshiped him for his immortality. No matter how many he killed with his bloodthirst, everyone still prayed to be like him, but not you. You just wanted to live in peace and support yourself, alone and secluded, but now you were either about to be tethered to this dog of a human or die from being sucked dry by a vampire.

“Ladies, gentlemen, all of those here.” He said in a booming voice, his words tinged with an accent of some sort that you didn't recognize. “Welcome to my home. Eat, drink, dance, have a good time, and don’t forget to indulge in your wildest, darkest fantasies. Being here is rare, and you should live like you may die tomorrow.” His words left you feeling eerie and squeamish, while everyone else cheered for his ideas. You just stared at the ground before you looked up and saw him staring at you once more. With widened eyes, you couldn’t look away.

“I’d like to have my first dance in over a hundred years.” He spoke and began descending down the stairs as you back up, his eyes never leaving yours and as he moved inward on the crowd of people and vampires, everyone looked around to see who he was looking at. All eyes finally fell on you and you moved backward once more, bumping into a table of food and staying frozen there as he came closer. “It’s not every year that two people are dressed to match without ever meeting, don’t you think?” He said as he moved to stand in front of you, only a foot of space separating you both now. His hand reached out to ask for a dance and you felt like you may pass out from holding your breath, but he just smiled. “You can refuse if you’d like to not dance. But I’d love to make you feel a bit more welcome in my home, and a dance may be nice.” You looked between his face and his hand before realizing that he could take the soul out of your body with one bite, and you agreed. Stepping forward, you curtsied and he bowed before the musicians resumed playing their delicate music and you both moved around the center of an empty dance floor. You looked out to everyone as you danced in tandem, your bodies moving in sync to the orchestra. “You don’t have to be afraid.” He whispered into your ear, making your body tense for a moment and stepping on his foot, which then made him smile. “I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re so nervous about.”

He interrupted the conversation as he took you into his arms and hauled you higher than him into the air, a nice trick to the viewers that made everyone watching clap and cheer. His smile was dazzling and you tried not to get too distracted by his entertaining ways.

“And the other vampires here?” You whispered and he looked around at the other cold faces, empty and hollow in the cheeks as he smirked. “Well, I can’t control others, but I’m sure that after I killed a vampire a few decades ago for drinking from another without their consent, that they’d hesitate before doing it once more in my presence.” He concluded and you were thoughtful now, reviewing each of his words like you were studying the sentence.

“You only feed on people who agree…?”

“Yes, of course.” He answered and he spun you into a twirl, dipping you before his face was suddenly mere inches from yours. The song ended and he smiled as he pulled you upwards once more. As you both stared at each other, the crowd became wild with enthusiasm and hollered in your beautiful dance. You looked down from the overwhelming feeling of a million eyes on you and he looked around before speaking again. “Will you let me take you somewhere private where you can take a break?”

Without a second thought, you agreed and he pulled your hand to drag you through the crowd.

You both exited those french doors as many people filled the dance floor once more and you looked at them before rushing forward to get away from all of the excitement. He led you to another staircase and to the doors on the left of it at the top. Once you were both inside, you recognized the rich red fabrics and four-poster bed as his master bedroom.

His bedroom!!!

Your mind began to panic. Alone, with a vampire in his bedroom. A million and one things could happen and none of them ended with your life in your hands anymore.

“Your blood is running quite high, but I hope you know that I won’t touch you.” He spoke in a deep voice once more, and you turned to see him.

His face was angular, jaw sharp and cheeks carved to be perfectly symmetrical as you followed his broad nose to his piercing red eyes, a trait no other vampire had. He was so big compared to any other person, standing a foot taller than you and back wide enough to shield you from the entirety of the outside world. If he wanted you, whether it be your blood or your virtue, there was nothing you could do to stop him. The realization made your throat tight and your body shiver in fear, but his words echoed once more and you tried to relax. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a glass of champagne.” You nodded and sat on the soft, velvet chaise near his bed. He handed you the crystal glass and sat across from you, with a wine glass filled with a thick, red liquid you all but gagged at. He smirked at your reaction and took a sip.

He was nice to look at, but he was also the most deadly creature in all the world and you refused to let that slip your memory no matter how many gentle caresses you felt in that dance or how nice of a smile he gleamed. He was a monster.

“You don’t want to be here, do you?”

“No.” You answered honestly, and stared at the champagne in your hands.

“Why are you here then?”

“Because I thought you may take offense to me refusing your invitation and come to kill me.” He roared in laughter at your idea and his shoulder shook with hilarity, but you frowned deeper.

“That town has surely cooked up many stories of my ways, hmm?” He looked back towards you and sighed, swishing around the glass. “I haven’t killed anyone unwillingly in three hundred years, and I’ve only lived for three hundred and fifty.”He clarified, “Does that make you feel better?”

You nodded, before sipping your champagne once more and leaning back against the chaise.

“Why black?” He asked and you could see his eyes narrow.

You were silent for a moment, wording how you might answer before speaking to him. “I don’t like colors, especially bright ones. I like things that are easy to look at, and bright colors make me want to squint. Black is… soothing, like a rainy day or the night sky.” You answered him with truth and sincerity, and he nodded.

“You aren’t like those eager ones down there, in their ruffle pink dresses that look like fairytales, you live in the real world, with all of its disappointments and hardship.” He watched you as he spoke and you did the same, staring back with a curt, single nod. He sipped his glass again and you felt your dinner lurch in your stomach before you pushed it back. “It’s cow blood.” He announced and you stopped for a second.

“It… is?”

“Yes. Human blood can be… dirty. I prefer to make sure the person is not unclean, morally and healthwise. Usually, when someone offers to be my meal, they come and stay with me for a month. I feed them lavishly all healthy, delicious foods, help them be properly rested and live a balanced life before even tasting their blood, and often it’s still not enough. Then, when I am done feeding, I simply have another vampire turn them immortal and they leave.” He shrugged and you were so lost.

“Where did those horror stories about you come from?” You asked and he became still, thinning deeply as upset etched into his face. “You don’t need to tell me-”

“When I was first turned into a vampire, I was the first of my kind. My strength and abilities matched nothing of this world… So, I became hungry… for vengeance and power. I tore through many cities, entire countries, like a man from Hell, but many times I cried about the lives I cost the world. I then found a way to turn others immortal, like myself, and the first time I watched them go through the same insane blood thirst I did, but I trained them to control it and only drink to live. Food is still delicious, sleep is less but still nice, and life would be the same for everyone, even if they needed slightly different necessities. No human would be harmed for their mere pleasure, or I would find them and kill them myself.” The way he seemed, so serious about it, made you shiver with the vision in your mind of him ripping a head off of a body.

“Is that how you kill a vampire? Removing their head?”

“Isn’t that how you’d kill anything?” He smirked and you blushed at your own blunder, thinking maybe you’d drank too much champagne and putting the glass down on the ornate little table in between you both. His smile made you stare for a moment before you looked around at the room. “Am I too brazen to say that I want your eyes back on mine?” He asked and you snapped your gaze back to his, startled by his forwardness.

“I am just a bit surprised.”

“I’ve learned in my… few hundred years, that being direct is the best way to achieve a goal and get what you desire.” He answered and you paused, processing his words before taking his advice and being direct as well.

“And you desire my gaze?” You asked and he seemed to become more intense in his stare.

“Mi amor, I’ve been craving your gaze since you stepped into my home.” He admitted and you held back your gasp as you bit your lip to hold back any embarrassing reaction you may have had. “I knew you’d be my weakness the second I saw you, a black dahlia in a sea of sunflowers and roses.” His metaphor made your heart race and you watched as he stood up and circled your chaise, like a shark around a boat. “You are breathtaking, and yet blind to every admirer's attention, so I had to make myself known… and try my best to make you mine, at least for a night.” His words set fire to your skin and made your mind hazy from the smoke, your mouth suddenly dry. He stood in front of you and kneeled down before reaching for your hand, which you gave to him and he leaned closer. He smelled of spices and rust, and you were entranced.

“I never thought I’d see the Lord of all Vampires kneeling for me.” You whispered as his face moved closer and closer until his breath fanned across your cheeks and warmed your lips.

“You are the only creature I’ve seen that deserved my worship.” His words felt like a secret that you guarded with your heart, something you wished you could scream from the top of his towers and brandish on your body for everyone to read. “May I?” He asked and you answered by closing the distance. His lips were plush and p[lump, like cold water against the warm sand, and they stole your breath with how experienced they seemed to be. As the seconds went by, you moved in a rhythm, ignorant to anything around either of you and he moved to bend over you and cup your face, now above you on the chaise and licking delicately at your lips, which made you quiver in new ways.

As the heat between you two rose, so did the escalation of your embrace. His arms quickly wrapped around you and he moved to lay next to you as he pulled at the ties of the corset on your dress, the sleeve slipping as he frustratedly pulled the strings, before finally ripping the corset in half and leaving your topless. You pulled away, shocked, and covered your breasts before he drank you in for a moment. His brash action made you both nervous of his incredible strength, and excited that those same hands wanted to pleasure you. It was like you were a flimsy doll in his care, and he wanted to cherise you despite how fragile you were and how easily he could tear you limb from limb. He dragged a finger over the hands covering yourself before he gently pulled them away, which you willingly obliged, and he instantly pressed his forehead to your skin, breathing in your scent before wrapping his pink lips around your nipple and sucking experimentally. You jerked in response and gasped, shaking a little from the pleasure.

His eyes watched you as you moaned and you felt something sharp nibble into your skin before you saw his fangs poking through a bit. This made everything even more enjoyable, the bits of danger he exuded. As you moved to sit in his lap, he kept licking andsucking at your chest until dark bruises littered your skin in a cacophony of maps. As you let him continue his claim over your bodice, his hand tugged at the uncomfortable material that made up your skirt and you pushed his chest away as he looked at you with confusion. You stood before the chair and carefully removed the skirt of your gown, his eyes never leaving your exposed skin. As he watched you shimmy it off, his red gaze stared at the blossom of your hips from your waist and his entire being seemed like a man starved. You made no movement for a moment until his eyes found yours once more and you felt the pull of his stare.

His hands gripped your waist as you moved back to him and he lifted you on top of him like you weighed nothing, before pulling his own clothing off in a sequence of rushed motions. As cloth and expensive fabric littered the floor, you both sat with nothing on for a second before smashing your lips into each other. The depth of his kiss was sharp and dizzying as you tried to grip reality, but his body could swallow you whole and your shadow with it.

He pulled you into his arms and stood to carrying you over to his bed and as you fell gently into the soft, rich feeling of his blankets, the glow of candles lit up the muscles lining his body, He was like a statute, sculpted and formed with definition between ever different curvature in his skin. From his neck, to his shoulders, to his chest and abdomen, it was all as if kissed by Aphriodite herself and blessed to be man’s greatest temptation.

Or in this case, your greatest temptation. How damned your soul would be if you gave your virtue to a man sworn to go to Hell, who has feasted on the flesh and blood of mankind, and oh, how much you didn’t care.

As your eyes trailed around his body, he chuckled and grasped your ankles, before tugging you closer. “Are you sure about this? You look as if you’re a kitten in a Lion’s Den.” He spoke playfully and you returned the favor by covering yourself slightly and shrugging a shoulder.

“If I did, I think you may be disappointed, as you seem quite…” your eyes trailed down between his legs and he followed your gaze, then looking back at you as you smiled, “enthused.”

“I’m more than enthused. I haven’t even felt you inside yet, and I’m ready to give my soul to ravish you for eternity.” He concluded before he mounted the bed and hovered over you. “But I will ask again… Are you sure? Vampires can tend to become thirsty while in the throes of passion.”

“Are you saying that you might bite me?” You asked as you placed your hands on his shoulders, massaging the muscle there, which made you even more excited.

“Yes.”

“Will it kill me?”

“No, of course not.” He shook his head, as if laughing at a joke, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you were to die because of me.” he spoke softly and you nodded.

“Then do as you please with me, as long as you do not stop once you start.” You answered and he let out a tense breath of relief as he grabbed your hips harshly and pulled your bodies closer. As he pulled your chest to his, you felt him begin to enter you and the stretch of him inside you made you gasp. The feeling burned a bit and as he moved, you tried to catch your breath. He stilled a bit and scanned your face with concern as you bit your lip, but he stopped completely when he realized you were in pain.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently and pecked your forehead as you nodded.

“Is it supposed to hurt?” You asked and he smiled before kissing a line down your neck.

“Haven’t you ever…” He trailed off before you both stared into each other’s eyes, a quiet understanding settling as he learned a bit more. “You haven’t.”

“No, I haven't.” You whispered and he looked down at your hand before bringing your wrist to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

“I’m honored to be the first.” He spoke softly and stared deeply into your eyes, “Tell me when to move, alright?”

“I’m ok, you- you can move.” You nervously agreed and he began to move deeper inside of you, finding the spot that made you shake in pleasure and pressing into them more. You gasped, shocked by how great the feeling was and he smirked at the sudden surprise you wore on your face.

“Careful. I may want to be the first and last.” His seductive tone made you shiver, the feeling of his muscles around you exhilarating, enclosing you to the bed. His face was so close to yours, and the way he slowly moved against you, on you, with you, made the world feel so small. His groans brought you closer, and the rhythm of his thrusts made you feel yourself about to tumble off of the brink of ecstasy. Your mind spun as everything in your body tensed, shaking and letting out a loud scream as you writhed under him. As you yelled, he quickly sank his fangs into your throat, and the sting of the punctures made you roll her eyes. You hissed through your teeth as he drank, the piercing pain in your veins making your toes curl happily while he drank you in, literally.

You both groaned and shifted as he closed his eyes and thrusted into you harshly, pulling his fangs from your throat and pushing into you one last time before he clenched his teeth and finished deep inside of you.

The heaviness of your panting makes Miguel smile as he barely looks as if he’s moved at all.

“Did you like that?” He kisses your cheek, warm lips pressing into your slick skin and making your eyes close comfortably.

“Yes… did you?”

“Of course, I can’t imagine any man who wouldn’t enjoy being with you. I’d like to keep going… everyday.” His voice became gentle and calm as he then said your name. You nodded and held the back of his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. The world blurred a bit as you began to drift into a sound sleep.

As you woke up, the sun blazed into the room, creating dark shadows against the brightness of the daylight. Miguel walked into the room and breezed past the widows with no fear of the sunlight at all, puzzling you.

“I thought vampires couldn’t be in the sun.”

“Vampires don’t like the sun, but that’s because our eyesight is much better than humans. We're perfectly fine in the sun, and we prefer to be in the dark because too much light causes headaches for everyone, vampire or human.” He answered and smiled once more, reminding you about your epic adventure last night with the Lord of the Vampires.

“Come back to bed…” You begged and he complied, holding your hand as he climbed onto the rich fabrics and laid his head on your stomach.

“I’d like you to live here with me, and be mine…”

“Be yours?”

“Yes. Mate with me, become my partner.” He explained and you were silent. “Not ready to commit?”

“Not sure if I’m enough. I’m just another person from the village.” You slumped your shoulders slightly as you thought more about how wrong he was. He was a historic creature, deadly and legendary, and you were just another townsperson.

“Mi vida, you are the one I’ve been waiting for, for three hundred and fifty years.” His whispers made you relax your body and snuggle more into his body as he moved to meet your eyes, laying side by side now. “You don’t realize how special you really are, and one day, you will.” His red gaze made you sink into his embrace, his words hugging you like a tight blanket as the sun kissed his tan face and made your heart flutter. His hand brushed the hair from your cheeks and the tickle of his skin against you made everything feel calm and ok…

After years of feeling out of place, you finally felt at peace in his arms and everything suddenly made sense.

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #miguel ohara smut #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara #spiderman atsv #miguel x you #miguel ohara x reader

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