#smut queen always

[aust-een]

HOLY MOTHER OF ACTUAL GOD IM SPEECHLESS.

GET IT QUEEN ABSOLUTELY GET IT.

The Hunt

Label Mature 18+

🔗 Blood Bound Sequel

Summary Invited to a mysterious banquet after being secretly initiated by Austin Butler, you arrive at a grand, secluded manor alongside dozens of other women, all drawn by the promise of a lucrative career.

However, as the night unfolds, the glamour gives way to a darker purpose when you slowly come to the horrifying realization that you and the other women are not merely guests at this lavish banquet —you are the main course.

🚨Depraved Smut 🚨 drugged with aphrodisiac • fed to appease the pallet of a vampire •hunted• bitten•taken by force • held against will•mentally manipulated • vulnerable• mind spell•breast play •breast bitten•blood exchange •orgasm bonding • blood bonding•vampire feeding during orgasm•creampie•forever his 🔗 Masterlist

Special Thanks @thejoywillburnoutthepain 🥵 Mentions of blood 🩸 Mentions of needle for IV 💉

The Hunt

You awaken in your dim apartment, the early morning light barely filtering through the curtains. Everything feels wrong—as though something essential has been drained from your veins. You pull your robe tighter, fingers trembling as you reach for your phone, squinting at the screen seeing a string of missed calls from your agent and a few urgent texts.

You tap to dial him back, your heart a confused mess, torn between the remnants of a surreal dream—were Austin was drinking your blood—and the dawning, realization that it wasn’t a dream at all. The phone rings only once before your agent answers, his voice vibrating with enthusiasm.

“Darling, you were absolutely incredible last night!” He gushes, practically tripping over his words. “I don’t know what you did, but everyone is talking about you. You’ve been personally requested for an exclusive event at the end of the month. I mean, the event, the kind that cements your name. So, listen carefully—no work, no public outings, and absolutely no partying until then. This could be the break we’ve been waiting for.”

His words hang in the air, dreamlike and surreal, as if your agent is talking about someone else. You’re about to question him when he adds as an afterthought, “Oh, and a nurse is on her way to check on you. She’ll be there any minute now.”

“A nurse?” You ask the confusion in your voice warranted, but he’s already hung up, leaving you in a whirlpool of disbelief. You barely have time to process his words before the intercom buzzes, announcing the nurses arrival and with hesitant fingers, you press the button, the beep echoing through your empty apartment as you let her in.

Moments later, the nurse appears at your doorway, her presence chillingly professional. Dressed in severe black from head to toe, her demeanor is as icy as her expression.

Without a word, she unpacks an IV bag with your name labeled on the packaging, hanging it with mechanical precision. “Your arm, please,” she says, her voice devoid of warmth.

You extend it hesitantly, feeling her cold fingers brush against your skin. “What is this for?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly as she aligns the needle with a prominent vein.

“Your hemoglobin nourishment,” she replies, offering no further explanation.

The sharp prick of the needle is more than a sting; it’s an ache that deepens, spreading an unsettling warmth through your arm. You wince but say nothing as the needle settles into place, watching as a crimson liquid flows into your vein with an almost hypnotic steadiness.

While you wait for the IV to finish, she hands you a list of dietary restrictions—foods you are allowed and foods you are to avoid.

Scanning the list, you notice odd details such as no lactose and —“Vegan cheese pizza?” you mutter out loud with a confused look on your face despite yourself.

“These are the requirements for the party,” she replies coldly her face a blank mask.

A chill slips down your spine. “Party of vampires?” You say gaining an understanding of the situation.

For the first time, her icy facade cracks. “Vampires don’t exist,” she says, but there’s a smirk at the edge of her lips, her eyes glinting as though she knows a secret she’ll never tell.

In the weeks that follow you quickly regain your strength feeling better than ever. As you become accustomed to your new found energy Austin’s face seems to haunt every corner of your life, glowing and youthful in every premiere, every Q&A every television interview.

His charisma practically leaps from the screen but theres something unsettling about his expression, something painfully familiar—the way he speaks his words, the light in his eyes, even the way he tilts his head as he laughs, his giddiness and curiosity an exact replica of your own and you realize with sickening clarity he’s taken far more than your blood, he’s captured your very essence.

When the end of the month arrives, a black limousine pulls up outside your building. The driver, silent and stoic, holds the door open for you, offering no answers as you settle in for the long, winding journey. As the city fades away, you’re taken through dense woods, the road winding tighter, the shadows thicker until finally, an immense, sprawling mansion looms on the horizon.

The manor is a striking blend of gothic elegance and timeless luxury. Stone and iron dominate its towering structure, with shadowed turrets reaching skyward toward the glowing full moon.

A beautifully landscaped driveway winds around a grand, illuminated fountain, the water cascading in perfect symmetry, adding an unexpected touch of serenity to the imposing estate.

Sleek black limousines pull up in a steady procession, coming to a stop along the curved driveway at the front of the manor. Drivers in crisp uniforms step out to open the doors, their movement precise and rehearsed.

As you step out, other young women emerge from their own limousines, each one casting bewildered glances at the manor. You recognize some of them—fellow actresses, models, internet celebrities, women you’ve seen on magazine covers, television screens, and countless social media apps. Each one looks as dazed and unsure as you feel.

Women clad in black stand vigil at the entrance of the mansion, their expressions as severe and unyielding as the nurse who first visited you.

Each one steps forward, assigned to their guest. Yours approaches with a sharp, assessing gaze, gesturing for you to follow. Her movements are smooth as she maintains an unwavering silence leading you into the mansion.

Your steps echo through the cavernous entryway, the weight of the place pressing in on you as she leads you down a corridor into a private wing.

Each turn is disorienting, the cold marble floors polished to a mirror sheen, reflecting the dim lighting. Dark, arched doorways line the halls, each one closed, each one a mystery.

You feel his presence before you see him—a faint tightening in your chest, a pounding in your veins. Austin is here— his presence a prickling unease slipping beneath your skin as you walk, his essence saturating every inch of your body, pulling at you, drawing you forward.

Your heart races as you reach the end of the corridor where a massive door stands, and you know, just beyond, it he’s waiting.

The woman pushes open the heavy door, and you step into an empty room adorned only by a large, lavishly made bed and a mix of antique decadent furniture of dark wood.

Shadows play in the corners of the room between the draped windows as you inspect each one, thinking you will discover Austin.

Anxiety prickles along your skin as you peer into the grand bathroom, fingers skimming the cold marble of the sink knowing he is here somewhere just out of sight.

The woman, now standing near the door, interrupts your search.

“You have followed your dietary requirements precisely?” She asks her voice steady, her eyes sharp.

“Yes…” you answer, a hint of uncertainty in your tone as you turn back to her, watching as she pulls a strange outfit from the armoire—black leggings, a matching sports top, lightweight zipper jacket, and a pair of tennis shoes.

Confused, you accept the clothing with a question, “Are we exercising?”

The faintest smile flickers across her lips, more unsettling than reassuring.

“Please put on your attire so that I may escort you to the banquet,” she says, her tone quick and precise, offering no further explanation as she turns to leave the room.

A chill settles over you, intensifying when the door thuds shut. The creeping sense of unease thickening, making you question just what you’ve stepped into.

Once you are dressed, the woman enters the room as if she had been waiting just beyond the door.

Her sharp eyes sweep over you, assessing your appearance with an air of cold detachment. Satisfied, she gestures for you to follow her.

The journey through the winding corridors feels like a maze, the dimly lit hallways stretching endlessly.

The ornate surroundings of rich tapestries, heavy curtains, and intricate carvings do little to ease the nervousness growing in your chest.

Finally, she stops before a set of grand double doors, their surfaces carved with an ancient, intricate, almost hypnotic pattern.

She pushes them open with surprising ease, revealing the banquet hall beyond. The golden light spilling out is warm, but it does nothing to soothe the dread pooling in your stomach.

Inside, the banquet hall is filled with the other women, all dressed in identical workout sets. Your stomach twists at the sight, a foreboding knot tightening as you scan the room, the giddiness on some of their faces unsettling in contrast to the dread settling over you.

The only man in the room steps forward in a pristine black suit. He has an authoritative air, his cold gaze sweeping over you all as a bell rings, pulling everyone’s attention to him.

“Please be seated,” he commands, voice devoid of warmth. Some of the women practically bounce with excitement, as if they’re at a themed event, but you can’t shake the gnawing sensation that every move, every breath is being watched.

You take your seat as covered dishes are placed in front of each guest. You can’t hide your surprise as a servant lifts the silver lid to reveal a simple peanut butter jelly sandwich on an ornate plate.

Around the table, other girls find similarly strange items, childish meals of nostalgia on elaborate dishes, and excited whispers start to spread across the room.

The young actress beside you rolls her eyes. “It must his favorite.” She mutters.

“Whose favorite?” you ask, blinking in confusion.

She tilts her head with a look at you that’s almost pitying. “The one you belong to.” She says rhetorically.

The words drop like a stone in your chest, the realization hitting heavy as a dreadful connection forms in your mind.

“Ladies, you may begin eating your meals,” the man in the suit announces —clearly the host of the evening, his gaze sweeps over you all, cold and watchful.

Reluctantly, you eat a few bites of the sand which until your stomach churns and you set it down.

Servants enter through the room, placing goblets beside each guest. The liquid is thick and black, a shimmering swirl of gold catching the dim light.

Giving it an easy look you whisper to the servant as he places it. “What exactly is this?”

The servant merely bows and moves on, ignoring your question entirely.

The host checks his watch, then lifts his hand. “Drink from the goblets entirely,” he says in a tone that garners no defiance. “Then you are to continue with your meal.”

The last thing you want is to drink the mysterious black liquid, but under the sharp, watchful eyes of the host and the female attendants, and the exclusivity of the event, you reluctantly take the goblet to your lips.

The liquid is sweet like honey, coating your throat as you drain the glass.

As soon as you set it down, a warmth begins to spread through you, intensifying with each passing second. Your breath quickens, lips parting as you feel a tingling feeling in your core. Your thighs press together involuntarily, feeling a pulsing ache that refuses to subside in you, as an overwhelming sense of desire floods your body.

“What the hell…” the actress gasps beside you, her voice shaky. She presses her hands to her flushed cheeks, eyes wide in startled excitement.

“Oh my god,” another sighs, leaning back with a blissed-out laugh as her hands glide along the tablecloth. All around you, the women are reacting, some whispering breathlessly, others laughing, touching their own arms, their skin hypersensitive to every touch.

A horrifying realization dawns—you’ve been drugged, and aroused, prepared as prey. Panic grips you as you push back from the table, the lustful haze battling the panicked need to escape.

You’re not the only one; a few other women understand and leave their seats, with terror flashing in their eyes as they scramble for the doors, pulling at them in desperation but the doors are locked tight.

The host watches, a smirk playing on his face as he presses a button. “No need to be in such a hurry ladies,” he says smoothly, and the glass doors along the far wall slide open, revealing the sprawling grounds outside. “The best one to hide will receive a reward beyond her wildest dreams.” He says.

Before the words even fully register, the room erupts with excited screams, the young women spilling out into the night, each one believing they’re part of some elaborate game.

Your heart pounds as you glance at the host one last time, his smile lingering as he watches you. With a shudder, you bolt out with the others, adrenaline flooding your veins.

Outside, the manor has an endless expanse of trees and dense gardens. You sprint, weaving past hedges and statues, your heart racing as you search for cover. The moonlight glows faintly over the grounds as rows of marble statues and manicured flowerbeds appear briefly as you run, disappearing into the shadows with the other women behind you. You push forward, darting between archways and tall hedges, searching desperately for a place to hide.

Spotting a small stone gazebo, you dart inside, pressing yourself against the cold, damp stone as you strain to catch your breath. The night is filled with the sound of footsteps, voices calling, and laughter echoing in the dark.

Suddenly, the crunch of gravel and the rustle of leaves grow louder near you, impossibly close. Your chest heaves as you listen intently, hoping the shadows will conceal you.

You freeze as you hear a girl nearby, her voice high-pitched and excited as she talks to someone. “There you are,” a male voice responds, his tone carrying an unsettling mix of eagerness and satisfaction.

You press yourself harder against the stone, your pulse pounding in your ears as you try to stay silent, your every muscle tense with dread.

Peeking around the corner you freeze in horror as you watch the girl being cornered by a familiar face—Timothee Chalamet, his grin almost playful as he closes in on her, eyes glinting with an unnatural hunger in the moonlight.

She giggles as he grabs her, his mouth descending to her neck, and you’re frozen, watching as he drinks from her. She moans in pleasure her body weakening in his arms as he guides her to the floor, then he turns to another man who appears from the shadows— one of Hollywood’s older stars, an actor you recognize instantly, though his name frustratingly escapes you.

“Isn’t this fun?” Timothee grins at him, wiping his mouth with a satisfied sigh.

The older actor chuckles darkly his voice filled with amusement, “The enhancement makes them taste so much richer. It’s intoxicating—almost impossible to stop once you start.” He reveals.

Timothee laughs a sharp, delighted sound, and the two slip away into the shadows, searching for their next victim.

Your stomach turns, revulsion and terror twisting within you as more screams and laughter split the night, the other girls becoming prey in a twisted hunt.

Frantically, you glance around the gazebo, hands groping along the stone ledges until your fingers close around a piece of jagged iron, part of the gazebo’s old railing. You grip it tightly as desperation flares in your chest realizing this is your only weapon.

Holding your breath, you peek out, eyes darting as shadows flicker between the trees, figures moving with inhuman grace. With trembling hands, you press yourself deeper into the shadows, clutching your makeshift weapon and praying that you’ll find a way out of this nightmare.

When your surrounding quiet you exit the gazebo with trembling steps, heart pounding as you make your way to the girl laying on the cold ground. You kneel beside her, pressing two fingers to her neck. Her pulse is weak but steady, her skin deathly pale, her breaths shallow—she’s alive, but only barely.

You glance around, the sounds of distant laughter and haunting cries echoing through the night in a terrifying symphony. Shadows slip between the trees, vampire silhouettes stalking their remaining prey. You have to move before you’re discovered, but as you rise to your feet, you feel a familiar presence.

A heavy silence settles around you, and your pulse thunders in your ears.

You turn, already knowing who you’ll see.

Austin stands just a few feet away, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. There’s a wildness in him, something dangerous simmering beneath his calm, poised exterior, and yet he doesn’t advance. He watches you, chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths, his gaze intense.

“Austin…please ” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath, the mingling of fear and yearning twisting in your stomach.

His eyes never leave yours as he grins, a flicker of joy in their depths, genuinely excited to see you.

You raise the spike of iron, gripping it tightly to keep him at a distance, but it doesn’t stop him from stepping closer, his movements slow, savoring the moment.

“I told myself I wouldn’t get attached,” he says, his grin slipping, almost painfully. “But you…” He reaches for you and when you lift the iron spike, his eyes softens. “I want you more than anything.”

He gestures for you to drop your weapon, and your hand releases it involuntarily, the iron piece clattering to the dirt as you struggle to maintain control over your own movements.

You can feel his power, a subtle, unbreakable hold, allowing you only the faintest control as he tries to override your will to bend you to his command

“Let me go,” you plead, your voice trembling. “Please! You don’t have to do this, Austin.”

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, as though his mind is too clouded to make the decision clearly.

Then his eyes open, his gaze is sharper, darker and filled with barely restrained hunger.

“Let me taste you ,” he rasps his, voice low and dangerous. “I need to have you again … .” He says stepping closer, his eyes locking onto yours, pulling you into their depths.

“They’ve enhanced you,” he reveals, his voice softening briefly as his eyes lock onto your neck. “Your blood, your essence… it’s perfect now. Perfect for me. It’s like you were made for me.” His tone shifts, the restraint in his voice desperate as he steps even closer. “And I need you more than you could ever understand.”

The weight of his presence fills the space between you, magnetic and terrifying, yet impossible to resist.

Your heart stammers as his words settle over you, your pulse hammering wildly in your veins. “Please just… just let me live,” you whisper, your voice barely audible from the panic rising within.

A smile curves his lips at your willingness, and he closes the distance in an instant, his fingers trailing down to your neck, where your pulse beats frantically.

“My sweetest one,” he whispers, his voice soft and possessive and you’re trapped in his gaze, the world shrinking to just the two of you.

“I could never take your life,” he says softly, his voice laced with a dark promise that makes your breath catch as his mouth descends to your neck.

His breath is warm and intimate against your skin as his teeth graze your pulse point, and then, with a groan of satisfaction, he sinks his fangs in.

A shock of pain mingles with a rush of pleasure that pulses through your entire body.

Your senses are overwhelmed as the sharp sting fades into an intoxicating warmth that spreads through you, a sensation that is both terrifying and thrilling, igniting something deep within you that you can neither resist nor fully understand.

You grip his arms, your nails digging in as you pant, feeling every beat of your heart push against his hold, against the intensity with which he drinks from you.

His moan vibrates against your skin, his hands gripping you tighter as he drinks, each pull making your pulse thrum in your ears with a heightened, feverish ache.

Your eyelids flutter as a euphoric haze settles over you and he draws from you even deeper, his strength growing with your every heartbeat.

He’s becoming too powerful, his moans vibrating against your skin, his bite intense and consuming. It’s overwhelming, and instinctively, you claw at his arms, your body writhing as the need to break free grows.

But he’s relentless, his grip tightening as he drinks deeper, the pull of his hunger making you whimper against him, helpless under the force of his need.

Your head grows light, the night spinning around you in a haze of heat and shadows. The pounding of your heartbeat in your ears begins to slow, muffled and distant, your limbs growing heavy and unresponsive.

You try to speak, to push him away, but the energy to resist has completely diminished, leaving you weightless in his grasp, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

Your breaths become shallow, each one a struggle as your vision blurs at the edges, fading into darkness.

—You promised me— is the only thought that lingers in your mind, a faint, desperate echo, as you begin to fall unconscious.

He continues to drink from you, each pull drawing you closer to the brink. Your vision dims, the edges fading into a consuming blackness. Your pulse becomes faint and your body weakens to the point of slipping away.

—I will always keep my promise— he finally transfers in to your mind and as the world falls away his presence anchors you, his words threading through the haze with an almost comforting certainty.

Your body grows limp, the last remnants of strength fading as a strange warmth envelops you, soothing you into an inevitable surrender as your mind fades to black.

Somewhere, deep within the void, a whisper of acceptance rises—silent, unspoken, but clear and you let go, giving in to him, to his promise, to the connection that feels inevitable as the darkness swallows you whole.

Your mind swims in a haze, the darkness giving way to the faintest flicker of light as your consciousness slowly returns.

You realize you are in an ornate bathroom, the air fragrant with hints of vanilla and orange blossom. The sound of water trickling fills your ears, and a warmth surrounds you—comforting, soothing. Your head lolls to the side, and through the blur, you see Austin kneeling beside the large, clawfoot tub you’re submerged in, his hands carefully guiding warm water over your skin.

“You were so cold,” he reveals, his voice low and tender, tinged with something that sounds almost like worry. His gaze is intense, his movements gentle as he brushes damp strands of hair from your face.

Your lips part, but your voice is barely audible. “What… what happened?”

He hesitates, his jaw tightening briefly before his expression softens again. “Your blood was so sweet… so perfect,” he admits, his voice low, almost reverent. “I almost drank too much—almost let you slip away.” His tone is steady but quiet, carrying the weight of his regret. “I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t lose you.” He says with conviction, his eyes locking onto yours ensuring you understand the depth of his promise.

The words tug at your memory, fragments of his voice in your mind, but everything feels fractured, out of reach. You blink up at him, still dazed, the warm water cradling your weak body.

“I feel… heavy,” you whisper, your voice faint, every word an effort.

“Shh,” he soothes, his hands skimming the water as he washes away the remnants of blood from your neck and shoulders. “Don’t try to talk. Just rest. Let me take care of you.”

The heat of the water lulls you further, your mind drifting in and out of focus. You hardly register when he carefully lifts you from the tub, his strong arms cradling you as if you weigh nothing. The cool air brushes your damp skin as he carries you to a chaise lounge draped in dark velvet.

He lays you down gently, his hands precise as he removes the towel wrapped around you. “Stay still,” he murmurs, reaching for a thick, soft blanket. He guides it over you, his touch firm but comforting as he wraps it around your body.

Your gaze flickers toward him, confusion clouding your thoughts. “Why… why are you doing this?” You ask.

He pauses for a moment, his hands lingering at your shoulder where the blanket rests. “Because you’re mine to protect,” he answers, his voice steady, but there’s a depth to it, an emotion he doesn’t fully show.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he stands and begins to undress, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His shirt falls away, revealing the lean, chiseled planes of his torso. His pants follow, and then he steps into the shower. The sound of water cascading fills the room, and despite the fog in your mind, your gaze lingers on him. The water runs down his perfect form, tracing the contours of his back, his muscles shifting with every movement.

Your breaths are shallow, the weakness in your body anchoring you in place.

“You’re… so beautiful ,” you whisper faintly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

He glances over his shoulder, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re delirious, you need rest,” he says gently, his tone amused yet soft.

When he finishes, he dries off quickly, the towel wrapped low on his hips as he steps toward you. Then, without hesitation, he drops it, standing bare and unashamed as he picks you up in his arms once again.

His skin is warm, the faint scent of soap clinging to him as he carries you into the dimly lit bedroom.

The bed is massive, draped in dark silks and accented with ornate carvings. He lays you down gently, adjusting the blanket around you. His movements are precise as he sets up an IV, his fingers deftly working to place the needle in your arm.

You flinch slightly at the prick, your eyes fluttering open fully to meet his. “What are you doing?”

“We need to replenish your blood,” he explains, his voice calm but firm. “This will help you recover your strength.”

Your gaze flickers over him, taking in the softness in his eyes, the way he moves with gentle urgency.

He looks at you, his expression softening. “Rest now” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I need you stronger.”

The weight of exhaustion pulls at you again, and as your eyes drift shut, his voice lingers, soothing and steady. “You’re safe with me.”

You awaken slowly, the heaviness in your body gone, replaced by a strange sense of strength. As you sit up in the massive bed, the silky sheets slip from your skin and you realize you’re completely naked.

The room is dimly lit, luxurious and unfamiliar, and a sense of disorientation washes over you realizing you have no idea where you are—or even what time it is.

Your eyes fall to a tray covered with an ornate silver cover sitting on the bedside table. Instantly, you reach out and lift the lid to reveal a peanut butter sandwich, a bar of dark chocolate, and a chilled bottle of almond milk.

A famished hunger gnaws at you inside and you waste no time, devouring the sandwich entirely, swallowing the almond milk in quick gulps, and finishing the chocolate bar in a few eager bites. The food satisfies the deep hunger within you, grounding you slightly, though questions still swirl in your mind.

Just as you set the empty bottle back down, a sudden chill prickles at the back of your neck, and you freeze. You sense him before you see him—a shift in the air, making your pulse quicken.

Austin climbs onto the bed behind you, his blue eyes glinting with a predatory edge, and though his expression is calm, there’s an undeniable intensity radiating from him that sends a shiver through

He’s naked, just like you, his presence commanding and intimate, and your heart races at the sight of him.

“You’re awake. That’s good,” he says closing the distance between you. “You’re stronger now. You’ve healed faster than I expected.”

Your breath hitches, and instinctively, you shift back against the headboard, suddenly hyper-aware of your vulnerability.

“Austin…” you whisper, a flicker of fear returning as you see the hunger in his eyes. “You’re going to… you’re going to drink from me again, aren’t you?”

A small, smile touches his lips. “You already know the answer to that,” he replies, his tone calm, almost soothing.

Panic grips you, and you throw off the blanket, attempting to leave the bed. But he moves faster than you can comprehend his arm wrapping around your waist, strong and unyielding as he pulls you back down onto the bed.

You struggle, your hands pushing against his chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps. “Let me go!” you cry, but his voice cuts through the chaos, low and commanding.

“Look at me,” he says, cupping your face and forcing your eyes to meet his. His gaze holds yours, steady and penetrating. “We share blood now,” he says

“I can feel it in you,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, rich and intimate, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your heart races for me, your body answers to me, and you can deny it all you want… but you can’t fight what’s already inside you.” His words wrap around you like a spell, powerful and inescapable, pulling you deeper into his control.

“It binds us completely, stronger than anything you could understand,” he reveals, his voice a dark promise as his fingers trail down the side of your neck, lingering just above your pulse point reminding you of his hunger.

As his words seep into your mind, they lull you into a sense of surrender, the tension in your body loosening against your will.

Your breath slows, your resolve faltering as his presence overtakes your will.

His gaze intensifies watching the shift in you as a slow knowing smile spreads across his lips. His eyes seem to pierce through you, pulling at the deepest, most hidden parts of your mind, leaving you completely exposed for him.

A warmth begins to unfurl in your core, spreading through your body like fire. Your pulse quickens from an undeniable growing arousal that steals your breath and leaves you helpless against him.

A soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips, and his eyes flash with satisfaction, his grip tightening as he pulls you closer.

“There she is,” he rasps, his voice low and reverent, filled with a dark tenderness. “My sweetest one.”

He lifts you effortlessly, guiding you up into his arms before settling you back down, his body pressing intimately against yours as he moves between your legs.

The coldness of his skin against yours is intoxicating, his presence overwhelming as his hands slide along your hips, holding you close.

“You feel it again don’t you?” he whispers his voice a dark mix of tenderness and hunger. “I’ve craved you—every part of you. And now that you’re mine, I’ll never let you go.”

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours, slow and deliberate, claiming you completely. His kiss is deep and unrelenting, sending surges of pleasure racing through your body, his hands grounding you and binding you to him all at once.

His lips trail lower, his kisses grazing the sensitive skin of your neck then your collarbone, before descending to your breast.

His hands slide down, caressing your supple flesh with a slowness that sets every nerve on fire.

He scrapes his fang against your hardened nipple and a gasp escapes you as your back arch’s instinctively. Your hips push up as you whine your body already anticipating what’s next and he eagerly bites down on your breast.

The sharpness of his fangs blends with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, the sensation so arousing it draws a moan from deep within you.

Your hips press upward again, the wetness between your legs sliding against him, driving both of you into a fevered state. His moan vibrates against your skin, his mouth still on your breast as he tastes not just your blood but your growing pleasure.

“My favored one,” he rasps, his voice low and reverent, filled with a dark tenderness as he pulls back slightly.

His tongue teases the small wounds before he brings his lips to yours. “Taste yourself,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with dark satisfaction.

His mouth presses to yours, and the metallic tang of your blood mingles between you, stirring something feral within him.

Your heart pounds as he pulls back, his dark eyes gleaming. “Now that youre mine,” he says, “It’s only fair you taste me too.”

Before you can respond, he tilts his head, exposing his neck. With deliberate slowness, he drags a sharp nail across his skin, releasing a thin line of blood that glistens in the dim light. “Drink,” he commands softly, his voice thick with need.

Your lips meet his neck, your tongue darting out to taste him. The moment his blood touches your tongue, a wave of heat and power floods through you, the sensation so overwhelming that you moan against his skin. “That’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you closer. “Feel it… feel us.”

The intensity rises as he pushes his cock into you, his body perfectly aligned with yours, his thrusts deep and claiming.

His blood surges through you, blending with your own, binding you in a way that feels inescapable, eternal. “You’re everything,” he rasps, his voice rough and thick with emotion. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. There is no one else, nothing else.”

His hands grip your wrists possessively pulling them over your head as his thrusts grow deeper, more passionate. His strength overwhelms you, his cock pushing into yours with perfect precision, each thrust sending shockwaves through your core.

His hands tangle in your hair pulling your head back, as a soft cry escapes your lips, and he lowers his mouth to your neck, his fangs grazing your pulse as his voice seeps into your mind. Come for me sweetest one….Give me everything.

His fingers slide down, finding your sensitive clit nestled between your thighs, moving in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. The pressure is unbearable, the sensation so intense that your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving faint marks on his skin.

“Austin!” you gasp, your voice trembling as the coil inside you tightens beyond control. He responds with a groan of satisfaction, his finger pressing into your clit, his thrusts driving deeper, pulling sounds from you that you didn’t know you could make.

Your body tenses as the sensations peak, and together, you both come, his fangs sinking into your neck again as you orgasm , your cries mixing with his groans.

The connection between you burns brighter than anything you’ve ever felt, his blood and yours mingling together, his release and yours merging in a perfect, primal harmony.

His mouth moves against your neck, savoring the taste of your blood as his fingers continue to work their magic on your clit, drawing your pleasure higher and higher creating more sweet blood for him to drink.

Your body begins to weaken, the intensity of his bite and the pleasure merging into something that leaves you lightheaded and disoriented. Just as you feel yourself slipping too far, his fangs retract, and he pulls back with a gasp, his lips red with your blood. He tilts your jaw up with his hand as his tongue tenderly licks over the marks on your neck, soothing the faint sting.

“So perfect,” he praises, his voice filled with satisfaction and restraint. His eyes meet yours, heavy with a mix of desire and control. “I could have taken more… but I won’t. Not until your stronger.” He reveals and kisses your neck softly, his breath warm against your skin.

As the waves of ecstasy subside, his lips tenderly brush your neck, his voice barely above a whisper. “You will never need anything else now because you are mine.” He confesses.

His words seep into you, sending a ripple through your very being. You feel it—this connection, this pull—as if every part of you is no longer your own, as though your blood aligns in harmony with his.

Your mind races, grasping at the edges of what your life was before this moment—your ambitions, your plans, your identity. It feels distant now, like a faded memory compared to the vivid, all-consuming presence of him.

How did it this happen? You ask yourself and as you remember, your heart pounds understanding there is no going back.

Beneath the fear, you feel stronger, more alive than you ever have, as if the pieces of your fractured world have rearranged themselves into something new. Something terrifyingly inevitable.

I’m not the same anymore, you think, a shiver running through you at the realization —I’ll never be the same again.

His gaze holds yours, unrelenting and filled with something deeper as the warmth of his thoughts pulses through you, filling every corner of your mind.

You’re mine now, completely just as I am yours. There is no going back … but you wouldn’t want to, would you? His grin widens, the intensity of his presence filling you as his words vibrate through your thoughts, binding you further, the connection growing deeper, consuming you entirely.

You’ve already changed, the reality settling over you like a dark, undeniable truth.

You don’t want to escape it—you don’t want to escape him. You know now, with every beat of your heart, you are his, as much as he is yours, and you will never leave him again.

🩸 END 🩸

🔗 Master List

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @lindszeppelin @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @umika @aust-een @feralgodmothers @psycheetamore @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @thejoywillburnoutthepain @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @megangovier @ifuckindontknow @jjubilee-fluff

[feinv]

Going insane currently thinking about JW getting that same intense, unwavering look of focus he gets when he’s working when you (reader/helen) cum, especially when he’s using his hands.

He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, looking that way, he’s just so intent on making you cum and feel good. He is a man of precision and skill and intense will, and he will use it to make you feel as good as absolutely possible.

Im going to go eat drywall

-H

dom!john wick x fem!reader. fingering.

you heard the stories of him being the man of focus, commitment, and sheer will. but unfortunately, or in this case quite fortunately, you have never seen john match the stories assigned to him. but as your relationship grew more intimate and his feelings for you more intense, you would catch him looking at you with an expression which was hard to describe.

his face was emotionless, yet you could make out an unstoppable drive on his features. like pleasuring you was his mission and he would go beyond his morals to accomplish it.

the dimly lit room accentuated his dark features, making him look like a sin.

“you look intimidating,” you half-chuckled, whispering, as his face was inches away from yours, his one arm stretched in between your legs.

“are you intimidated?” his baritone voice questioned, eyes landing on yours with a wicked glint.

“should i-” your sentence was cut by a moan as he added another finger, curling them in your tight walls “…should i be?”

“depends on what you do, sweetheart.” you felt his teeth dig into your neck, slowly but harshly sucking on your soft flesh, pumping his fingers in an out in an unwavering pace.

you couldn’t stop your whines when he was knuckles deep inside of you, the tip of his fingers brushing against your cervix, his other thumb drawing circles on your sensitive bud.

“aren’t you a good girl?” it took you five seconds to register his question in your fucked up state, nodding your head and mewling a barely audible yes.

“then you have nothing to worry about,” he slammed his digits harder and faster in an unrelenting rhytm before you gushed all over his fingers with a loud moan, coating him in your sticky arousal.

[lainalit]

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey could I ask for a Thenamesh human au were Thena is raising her little sisters (Sersi and Sprite) after their parents die and Gilgamesh is her co-worker who finds her having a mini breakdown and comforts her? Kinda slow burn-ish and no smut if possible

"Sorry!"

Thena pressed even harder on her eyebrows, sure she would get bruises from it. Maybe then she might actually get medical clearance for time off. "It's fine."

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine!" she snapped at him again, shifting to swipe at the corners of her eyes and wipe the tears onto her fingertips and then on the sleeves of her cardigan. "I was just...looking for something."

But all she heard was the door shutting gently.

Thena sighed, picking her head up and looking around the shelves. All that was in here was extra paper and printer ink. "Gil, I'm fine."

Gil was sweet, if a little too sweet. He went out of his way for people, which their firm really discouraged. But he was going into family law, which was easy to tell from the 'everything' about him.

"Yeah, I just, uh," she heard him shuffle around before finally turning to glare at him. Her glower was usually strong enough to scare away anyone else. He pointed at the shelf of toner. "Printer."

She closed her eyes, feeling the throbbing in her head from her coffee and the twitch in her eyes from her need for sleep. But they had a lot of contracts to examine, and Sersi was in the middle of the soccer season, which meant she didn't even get home until 6, which pushed dinner to 7 and that said nothing about homework and getting Sprite to bed at a decent hour.

"Um," Gilgamesh gulped, tugging at the suit he was wearing. It was standard attire for the firm, of course, but she always imagined he had a hard time finding suits to really fit him. Perhaps he needed shirts and Jackets in one fitting and trousers in a smaller one. "How was Sersi's game?"

She whipped her head up at him, and she must have looked ready for murder by the way he flinched. "What?"

He went stiff as a board, practically pressing his back to the door. "S-Sersi--your sister, you said she had a soccer game on friday. H-How did it go...if that's okay."

Right, friday; she had rushed home from work, still with half a day's work to complete, picked up Sprite, gotten her not to gripe all through grocery shopping, bundled her up for Sersi's game, which was a loss, and it was a hard loss, and Sersi got a few scrapes and bruises, so then they were both a little cranky for the start of the weekend, and of course that meant she didn't actually get any work done-

"Thena?"

She blinked, feeling as if she had gone somewhere else entirely. This was getting ridiculous. She just needed coffee, she reasoned. Even more coffee. She shook her head.

"Hey," he whispered, not moving from the door to let her out, despite her moving closer. "Are you okay? I know you're...I know you've got a lot on your plate."

A lot on her plate? She had that already with this job and the beginnings of her career. Her student debt alone would be more than a full plate.

That was before handling a joint funeral, and counselling for her sisters, and getting them back to school, and a full year of them not being themselves. And then, when they finally seem to be getting better, both of them start having the worst time with school in their lives.

Or maybe their mother was just better at dealing with it than Thena could say for herself. And while their father wasn't exactly her favourite person, let alone parent, her first year of filing her taxes with two dependants was enough for her to look into a decent accountant for this year.

"Listen, I know you've got this under control," Gil continued, visibly worried about saying the wrong thing. "I know you're tougher than I could ever imagine."

She really didn't know about that.

"But if you need--I mean, if you ever want a hand with anything, or even just logistics, or carpooling or something," he suggested, losing confidence with every new idea. His massive shoulders drooped and he gave her those big, sad puppy dog eyes that always got him the best desk and the best cases and the best lunch, "just let me know, y'know?"

Thena gulped. Heat rose up in her as the horror of her tears resurfaced. She was done crying. It was the middle of the work day. She didn't have time for this. This had never been an issue before.

Can we have lasagne?

Just that simple text from Sprite had set her off. Because Sprite loved lasagne--she loved their mother's lasagne. And for an entire year Sprite couldn't even stand hearing the word, let alone the sight of it. And to have her ask for it, when they all knew that Thena was somehow the worst cook of all three of them.

Gil blinked as Thena dropped her head, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her hand over her eyebrows again. His hands hovered around her, never crossing the last few inches of boundary she held.

Thena was just as shocked as she leaned froward and her forehead met something firm. But she couldn't choke it all back, a squeak escaping her as her tears dropped to the musty old storage closet carpet below.

"Hey," he whispered soothingly. Of course the bastard was great at comforting people too. Why wouldn't he be? Why wouldn't he be so completely perfect? "It'll be okay."

She usually hated when people spoke so certainly. Because what did they know? What assurance did they have? But Gil meant well. He only ever meant well. Her breathing slowed and she realised she was truly letting him embrace her. What an unfortunate turn this had taken. But he was warm, and he smelled nice. And it felt nice when he rubbed her back.

Gil let her pull away, not making a grand affair out of the whole thing. He brushed away a few more tears of hers, "you okay?"

She nodded. She was far, far from it. But she could probably get through the rest of the work day without humiliating herself further. Her throat felt dry as a bone. "Thank you."

Gil tilted his head at her. He did give off the first impression that he would be some meathead, into his own looks and loud and brash and hypermasculine. But he was kind, he was considerate of others and his good nature only made him more sensitive to those around him. "I mean it, Thena, if there's anything you need at all."

He was one of only a few who even knew about her sisters. She didn't really go around announcing her past, and she wasn't one for keeping precious personal keepsakes on her desk either. But Gil had once seen her phone light up with a notification and asked who the girls on her lockscreen were.

And as much as she could have told him to mind his own business - and he would have, knowing him - it seemed worse to ignore it. So she had told him about her sisters, and how she had basically acquired them as children, as far as the state was concerned.

The biggest advantage to Gilgamesh knowing about her duties outside the office was that he was her biggest defender whenever she couldn't make events outside of work. Of course a lot of deals happened out of the office as well as in, and being able to seal those deals came with the job. But Gil always had an excuse ready for her when she couldn't join them for drinks after work, or make a round of golf or two on sunday morning.

He smiled as she finally picked her head up. "There she is."

She chose to ignore that. She sniffled, dabbing at her eyes again. If anyone asked her if she was okay once she stepped out of this closet, she might commit an act worthy of termination. "Thanks."

"Any time," he shrugged. He still didn't leave. "I saw you get up from your desk. I thought-"

Silence came over him, perhaps at the admission that he had all but followed her here. Any other coworker and she would have her keys in her hand and a knife with his car's name on it. But only Gilgamesh could say something like that and have it be just as innocent as he meant it.

"Sorry," he concluded, having discouraged himself yet again. He blushed.

She truly was a bitch of epic proportions to inspire this level of fear from the sweetest man alive, she gathered. Usually that wasn't a problem, of course, but just this once: it was undeserved. "That's nice of you, Gil."

That seemed to surprise him even more than walking in on her crying in the closet.

She finally reached for the doorknob, and Gil nearly leapt out of her way. She headed back to her desk, with the same papers in hand as when she had first gone in. At least at her desk, she could take a breath. Her computer was still open on emails, she set the papers beside her.

Of course

She replied to Sprite, although if she got more texts she was just going to tell her not to text in class.

If her sister wanted lasagne, then she would find a way to make it happen. Affection was not her most polished skill, but love needed no polishing. If her baby sister wanted lasagne, she would have it.

If only she weren't a horrendously bad cook.

Sersi was decent, but she only ever let her help when Sersi herself seemed eager to do so, and that was usually on weekends. And Ajak was an excellent cook. Her handwritten recipes alone would not help Thena actually produce the promised product.

Thena picked up her phone again. She scrolled until she could select the contact in her phone. Perhaps it was silly to text him when his desk was in sight of hers. She was just in a closet with the man. But she selected his name and typed.

Can you make lasagne?

[hexiewrites]

me: I’m gonna take a writing break for a few days I think!

me, a day later, 6k deep into a smutty buckingham fic: well FUCK

(if you want a little hint on what the buckingham is going to be, please read @riality-check’s new fic save a horse, ride an ex-jock)

anyways why the hell not lets do a wordcount tracker again:

december 28th: 6,235

[beastsovrevelation]

I said I have 4 storylines of Good Omens fanfiction (including the Crossover with Legion). Had I said that today, I would've lied. There's five.

["Diary entry" under the cut, so there's no litany on an unwilling scroller's feed]

NOTE: I haven't seen S2 of GO, not do I intendt to, so beware of canon divergence

Well... The 5th one is less a coherent storyline, more a concept. I was playing Gardenscapes, and suddenly thought "What if F!Crowley were my Antichrist's mother?"

You know, maybe Crowley owed Satan a new Antichrist, or something. I guess, she'd have screwed up this one, too... Well, she'll gladly take over the world, she just won't destroy it.

The conversation (between myself and myself) went about like this:

Me: ...

Also me: what if?..

Me: for fuck's sake, not again

Also me: Lady Crowley...

Me: please stop

Also me: Was Maxine's mother?

Me: whyever would she be her mother?

Also me: because she owed Satan for the ruined Apocalypse, and had to carry the next Antichrist

Me: Maxine doesn't want the Apocalypse, she's a sane politician

Also me: works for Crowley

Me: she also has black hair and blue eyes

Also me: Satan has black hair and blue eyes, Benedict's not his faceclaim, anyway

Me: fine, why would her last name be Frost?

Also me: Satan goes by Lucian Frost on Earth

Me: why would he ever go by the surname Frost?

Also me: a not to Dante's Inferno

Me: I hate you

Also me: 🤪

Me: you're killing me

Also me: with pleasure 😊

[End dialogue.]

Now, like I always do with any new idea, I of course collapsed down into the daydreaming pit, which often turns fanfiction, and original stories alike, into Tolkien-level complex universes you'd need a lifetime to fully explore.

I thought, it could be funny. When Max meets Anathema and Newt's daughter Agnes in Oxford, they can bond over their unhinged families.

"You'll probably think my parents are weird as fuck, they have a pet raccoon they dye black, and pretend is a cat."

"Honey, no, I get you. My mother mentally abuses her house plants, and wears sunglasses at midnight."

Rich people things, I guess. I mean, they're both nepo babies, who would ask questions about why their families are weird. Who would ask questions about why a rising star politician's mother mentally abuses her house plants.

There's a lot of potential for comedy. Crowley's issues with her sister-in-law, for example. Satan and Michael... They have a strange dynamic. The last time they spoke to each other is mentioned in the Book of Jude. But, they both have the familia ante omnia, blood is everything mentality. They support each other's political aim. They would kill for each other. And, Michael feels very protective (possessive, even) over her niece (the family mediator, why do you think she's a perfect diplomat). It would annoy the Hell (Heaven?) out of Crowley. Still, in the end, she and Michael would probably kill for each other, also.

I'd imagine Satan forbidding any contact with his disowned son... I don't know. In my fanfictions (where he is a thing), Maxine and Adam usually do have eventual contact, and consider themselves siblings (do keep in mind, though, Max would always choose her father over her brother). Satan doesn't mind her not wanting the Apocalypse, as long as she's loyal to him. He sees good points in her arguments against. He never really cared for it, anyway, it was mostly the armies.

Also... Maxine rides horses, ever since she was a child. Crowley doesn't get along with animals, everyone knows that. But. She's the nightmare equestrian mom (think soccer mom, only worse - much worse). How does she get along with Max's animals?.. Well, Titan (the hellhound) actually likes her. Ulysses (the horse) tolerates her. Horus (the falcon - yes, Max's so posh she's in the falconry hobby)... I have no idea. He'd probably sit on her shoulder, sometimes. But, Crowley's anxious around him, since snakes aren't usually friends with raptors.

At first, I thought about conflict between Crowley and Maxine. For example, her refusing to ride in the Bentley, because she (every author must place pieces of them in their characters) despises Queen. But... I don't like writing that. I like writing loving, healthy relationships between mothers and daughters. So, it's more "What do you mean you're bad at being a demon? You caused the Fall of Humankind. None of them can compare to you", and"You'll be the perfect Secretary-General of the United Nations, honey". We love mothers and daughters supporting each other here. ❤

I even thought of cute scenarios, like Crowley coiling in Max's crib, because she's anxious, and wants to protect her baby.

Max is fiercely protective of Crowley. That's why she'd be in conflict with Beelzebub - funny enough, for a similar season to the other stories (Beelzebub causes the death of her adoptive mother, after she realizes she's raising the Antichrist). Beelzebub hates Crowley, and the Beast of Rev. will show her very sharp teeth, should someone threaten her mom. Satan's on his family's side, don't worry.

Actually... You know why this story is cool? Horrific things happen to Crowley in my other fics. Not this one. Actually, she's doing great. She's the Queen of Hell. Damn... She'd outrank Beelzebub. She could terrorize... Her? Like I said, I haven't seen S2, Ι don't know the pronouns, and I don't care, you can get them right if it matters to you (I just know in S2 an actress from Bridgerton played her (?)).

As for Satan/Crowley... As long at Crowley's female, I don't mind it. I like it. Good for you, you little serpent tempter. Because, you know I always romanticise the Devil.

Have I any ideas for smut? You bet I do. I even have crack ideas... You know that picture of a female wolf protecting a male wolf's throat? Think that, but Crowley's coiled around Satan in her snake form, and snaps at anyone who wanders close.

So, I let this out into the web. Now I'll have to actually do it. Wish me luck. 😑

[skinreflectsthesun]

Okay babe, I'm going to need you to recommend me a good smut book. I've never read one, but... I think I need to, lol. But maybe ease me into it? Is there a good, mild (but not too mild, make it worth my while) book that's not overly cheesy? Or even just an author you can point me in the direction of?

Thanks in advance, Smut Queen 💛

My darling dove of course I do!!! The first book I think of that is smutty and sweet and a good introduction is the following:

IOU by Kristy Marie - unique story line with regular people

By a Thread by Lucy Score, we love a millionaire romance with a strong and independent leading lady

Bass-ackwards by Eris Adderly, another unique story line with regular people who are relatable

Flock by Kate Stewart, unique story line with amazing characters part 1 of a 3 book series so keep that in mind

Buttons and lace by Penelope Sky, this was one of my first darker reads (compared to what I know now it’s pretty tame but if you’re interested in delving deeper into the dark side this is a good place to start) also a series so be prepared to fall in love and want the rest of the books too!!

[olirian]

Everytime I type in "bayverse tmnt" on my tumblr search bar my heart rate spikes because its either I get full on thirst trap or its just a normal goofy text post about another turtles forever scenario. Please,,,,, bayverse tmnt fandom please cater a little bit more to your minor audience,,,, I know theyre hot but PLEASE

[lilyharvord]

I will have you all know that the scene is almost done. I have to gym and pick up what I plan to eat for dinner, and then I will be back to finish. I expect to be posting tonight 👀

[aust-een]

“His hand starts to move up, his fingers reaching to satisfy you, trying everything in his power to get the reaction he wants, but you catch his wrist before he even touches you”

MAM, I WEAK AT THE KNEES.

Playing Dirty

Label Mature 18+ Summary Ruining a night out getting way too drunk Hank bangs on your door an hour later begging for forgiveness. But this time you won't give in to his puppy dog eyes and sweet talk, this time you'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget.

⚠️Depraved Smut⚠️ Dirty talk• P in V • squirting• Hank wasted•Fem Dom• slight degradation• Hank begging •Hank apologizing •Hank as a submissive- whimpering- pleading•eager to please • kiss it better •make it right• Hank being used for sexual gratification • oral on female• cowgirl while hank is tied up 🔗 Master List

Inspo- Hank being drunk in a clip for the movie ruining the night and all the imagines of Hank being a eager to please desperate submissive 🥵

Dedicated To:🏆@butdaddyilovehim99 @aust-een @umika @austinbutlerfly @feralgodmothers

Playing Dirty

It’s been days since you’ve heard from Hank, and as the evening settles in, you find yourself glancing at your phone, thinking about him. You miss him—more than you’d like to admit—and you try to push the feeling aside as you focus on tidying up.

You clean your apartment, putting away the dishes, picking up the living room, changing the linens. With everything in order, you stand back, taking in the quiet stillness of the place.

You decide to take a relaxing shower and just as you head to the bedroom your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

You rush back into the living room, relieved to see Hank’s name lighting up the screen. Without hesitation, you pick up.

“Hello?” you answer, breathless from the sudden dash.

His deep, familiar voice comes through with a hint of warmth in his tone. “It rang this time,” he teases.

“Hank, where have you been?” you ask, unable to mask the desperation in your voice.

He hesitates, a slight pause before he finally speaks. “Can I come to your place?” he asks, and there’s an urgency in his tone that catches you off guard making concern flicker in your chest.

“Of course is every thing alright,” you ask feeling worried.

“Yeah I just… need to see you,” he slowly admits and the vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard.

“I’m sending you my address right now” you respond as you finish texting it to him.

“I’ll be there soon” he says and you both say your goodbyes ending the call.

You stand there after you hang up, the phone still clutched in your hand and your heart is tethered between excitement and uncertainty.

Part of you is overjoyed at the thought of seeing Hank again, but then there’s the other part, the unsettling ache that he can disappear for days without a word, like you’re just one small part of his life—a life you can’t quite understand.

Your mind goes over every possible scenario, wondering what could be wrong, why he keeps you at arm’s length only to reel you back in with an unmistakable intensity.

His touch, his presence, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only one in his world—it’s all become a pull you can’t break free from, completely unsure of where it will lead.

Though you try to deny it, you’ve fallen for him—fallen in a way that feels reckless and all-consuming.

Even though you know he’s complicated, you can feel yourself surrendering, unable to resist your need for him, even if you wanted to.

An hour passes by until you finally hear his gentle knock on your door and all the emotions you’ve been holding back flood forward, impossible to contain.

You open the door, and there he stands, Hank’s tall frame silhouetted in the doorway , his sandy blonde hair tucked behind his ears, and those intense blue eyes meeting yours with a look of complete desire.

Without even thinking, your arms are wrapping around him, your body pressing into his. You breathe in his familiar scent, and in that instant, all the walls of uncertainty come crashing down.

His arms come around you, holding you close, and it feels like finding something you’d been missing even though you tried to pretend you were fine without it.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, biting back the questions threatening to spill out, and instead, you search his eyes. As he looks at you, his expression softens, a small smile forming on his lips, and you can’t help but smile back, feeling the tension between you dissolve.

He leans down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his touch tender and unexpectedly vulnerable. “I missed you so much,” he whispers, his voice low, almost fragile. and all of your lingering thoughts vanish into thin air.

He leans in and kisses you, his lips soft and hesitant at first, but then he kisses you deeper, and you feel all your emotions ignite for him as you surrender to the undeniable pull between you both.

His hands slide down your back, bringing you closer, and as your arms wrap around his neck your fingers graze the familiar curls at the ends of his hair.

Still lip-locked, he guides you in pushing the door shut behind him, one hand reaching back to lock it with a quiet click.

His hand quickly returns to you, and he pulls your top over your head in one smooth motion before tugging off his own shirt, the warmth of his skin meeting yours.

He guides you to the living room couch, his hands firm and steady as he unzips his pants, his gaze dropping as he retrieves a condom from his pocket, letting his pants fall to the floor as he kicks his shoes aside.

He focuses on tearing the condom open and sliding it on his cock as you kiss along his jaw, trailing down to his neck.

His hands return to you with confidence hooking fingers into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down, his gaze dark and focused.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you,” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper as he unclasps your bra.

The raw honesty in his tone sends a thrill down your spine, and as he trails kisses along your collarbone your fingers slide into his hair feeling the soft strands. His movements are slow and unhurried, filled with reverence as he begins to pull your panties down your hips.

He leans in, his lips brushing over yours in a silent plea. “I know I’ve kept you waiting,” he whispers, his breath warm against his lips. “There are things I’m dealing with… things I can’t share yet. But I’m here now, and I need you to know—-I never stop thinking about you.”

You feel a surge of emotion as you look into his eyes seeing his sincerity and his mouth finds yours again in another slow, consuming that erases every lingering question, every doubt.

His hands slide down your body as his tongue brushes against yours, his kiss growing so intense it makes it impossible to think about anything else.

His infatuation is undeniable, his mouth moving against yours with a heated determination savoring every touch of your lips, as if he’s afraid to let you go.

A flicker of concern pulls you from the haze as you lean back slightly, searching his face seeing a shadow of something darker in his eyes

“Hank tell me what’s wrong” You ask breathlessly, your voice filled vulnerability.

He lowers his lips to your shoulder, tracing a delicate path of kisses “ Later ,” he whispers against your skin his voice heavy with longing

“Right now,” he whispers, as he lowers you onto the couch, “I want to give you everything you’ve been waiting for.” He says with a quiet intimacy, pressing his body firmly against yours, grounding you beneath his weight.

His mouth finds yours again, his tongue moving against yours in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. Each stroke is deliberate and unhurried, drawing a soft, helpless moan from your lips that’s muffled against his mouth.

His tip nudges against your slick entrance, and you softly gasp feeling the firmness of it.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, his voice low and breathless as he kisses along your neck gliding his tip along your wetness, as soft moans escape your lips.

“Please,” you whisper, voice heavy with desire.

“So eager,” he teases, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he lean in whispering into your ear. “beg for me” he breathes.

“Hank… please,” you beg instantly, barely able to contain your arousal as you arch your hips up, aching to feel him deep inside you. But he doesn’t give in, he holds you there, savoring the way you respond to him, every pleasing sound, writhe of your hips driving him to the edge.

“Let me hear how much you want it” he says as he slowly pushes in an inch before stopping.

Your loud moan fills the room, fueling his desire, as his hips tilt, pressing the tip just a little deeper before he pulls back, leaving you gasping with desperation.

“That bad, huh?” he whispers, his voice low with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His mouth slowly trails kisses up your neck until his voice is a low, teasing whisper in your ear. “You can take it all at once, can’t you?…”

Before you can respond, he thrusts into you with one powerful motion, filling you to the hilt. A moan tumbles from your lips, your back arching as he hits that perfect depth, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his tone both commanding and reverent as he begins a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and controlled. “I want to feel every bit of you… squeezing me, just like this.”

You moan, hands clutching his shoulders, feeling the fullness of his cock with every slow, torturous thrust. Your moan trails off into soft cries as his hips press even deeper, drawing every sensation out.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” he breathes his voice rough and thick, his hands digging into your hips, guiding you to meet each thrust.

Your dumbstruck, lost entirely in the intensity of the moment enduring every pleasurable sensation he creates in you.

He leans in close, his mouth hovering over yours, his breath warm as he waits for you to kiss him, holding back just long enough to make you crave it.

His lips brush over yours, soft at first, barely there, teasing you as your fingers tighten on his shoulders, urging him to kiss you. But he just grins, a slow, seductive smile that sends a thrill through you.

“You want more?” he teases, his lips barely an inch from yours, his eyes dancing with a playful, knowing gleam as you nod for him.

In one smooth, forceful motion, he pushes deeper, his thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His hips snap between your legs, each movement precise and intense, as uncontrollable moans escape your lips

The sound of your pleasure only drives him further, a spark igniting in his eyes as he presses his chest firmly against yours.

His hands tilt your hips as he thrusts himself into you finding that perfect place within, setting off a cascade of emotions that leaves you breathless.

Your moans blend with quick, shallow gasps, every muscle in your body tightening as the familiar wave of your orgasm builds.

He smiles, his mouth returning to yours, finally deepening the kiss. His tongue sweeps over yours in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, filling you with the taste of him.

Your walls instinctively tighten as you feel each push of his cock becoming deeper, more intense, his pace building, his hips thrusting harder between your legs.

The sounds of his pleasure is rough, the way he pants and grunts against your ear, adding to the intoxicating heat building between you

“Taking this cock so well“ he praises his voice low with exertion.

Desperate moan escape your lips, feeling every powerful flex of his muscles as he drives into you with a force that leaves you dazed. Your mind is hazy, completely overwhelmed as his fingers grip your waist holding you in place as you take each powerful thrust of his cock bringing you both to the edge.

His lips graze your jaw as he loses himself , his loud groans against your ear spurring you further into the haze of desire that’s taken over.

Your face is unrestrained with pleasure, your lips parted as moans spill out, growing louder and needier with every moment.

You can feel yourself unraveling, every part of you under his control, and your body finally gives out and you orgasm, your back arching as your hips push against him.

His hips wetly clap against you as you come and the sensation is so pleasurable you feel another pressure swell deep within as a second release rushes from your core.

“Look at you, soaking my cock,” he praises, his voice filled with satisfaction as he takes in the sight of you in a blissed out beautiful mess beneath him.

His hands slide over your hips, steadying you as he moves with purpose, each thrust designed to push you further into euphoria as he savors every shiver, every quiet moan.

His pace begin to falter, each movement becoming more erratic as his own climax builds, and with one final, deep thrust he comes.

Your walls clench around him, drawing him deeper, his name spilling out uncontrollably from your lips as a wave of pleasure crashes over you both.

His breaths are ragged, his hips grinding in slow, deep circles as his body tenses against you. He groans from his chest as he empties himself, the warmth of his come sending a final, powerful wave of pleasure through you both.

He's breathless as he rests his hands on your hips holding them steady as he slowly glides his cock out until you both sigh.

He sits back on the couch, staring off into space, a look of complete satisfaction softening his features.

As you slowly sit up beside him his gaze is distant, lost in his thoughts, and you trail your hand down his jaw with a soft, reassuring touch.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” you ask him gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

His shoulders drop, and he leans forward, covering his face with his hands. Slowly, he drags his fingers through his hair, pulling it back, his eyes filled with a raw, almost unbearable intensity. The usual confident, guarded expression slips away, revealing something deeper, something vulnerable and anguished.

“It’s bad” he out right admits, his voice heavy with a seriousness that makes your pulse quicken.

“What is it Hank?” you ask, becoming more concerned by the second.

“Do you have any liquor here?” he asks, looking around your place and you shake your head trying to lighten the mood with small talk.

“No, that’s why I go to your bar,” you tease, hoping to coax a smile out of him.

He nods, the corner of his lips tugging upward, but the worry never fully leaves his eyes.

“Let’s go to a bar,” he suggests, catching you off guard and you blink, surprised, with his change in plans to drink due to his kidney removal.

But the tension in his face tells you something’s shifted, something’s drastically changed in his world, and as he rests his hand on your knee, his fingers tapping nervously, you realize something’s very wrong.

The night starts off well enough, Hank begins to unwind after a few drinks the conversation and flirtation flowing easily as you sit together. But as the night wears on, it becomes clear this isnt just a casual night out for Hank.

He begins drinking like there is a void he is trying to fill, each glass disappearing faster than the last.

You try to be understanding , but the warning bells are already ringing. Hank isnt just getting drunk—he’s getting wasted.

His charming familiar edge of sweet and wild begins to change into something darker after a couple rounds.

As a baseball game intensifies on the screen above the bar, Hank’s attention is entirely drawn in, his composure slipping the deeper he gets into the action.

“Are you kidding me?” he yells, jutting his hand out at the tv in frustration. “That was a clear strike!”

His eyes are fixed on the screen his irritation growing as he watches the game continue. “What the hell are they looking at? He’s safe, are they blind!” He yells, his voice heavy with bitterness in his tone drawing glances from other patrons.

“Hank, I’m getting us a taxi,” you finally say seeing he’s beyond his limits.

His eyes flick from the screen to you, a faint smirk softening his expression “Look at you…-all responsible…trying to keep me ..-in line..-“

He says dragging out the words, a lazy smile spreading across his face as his gaze drifts over you,

“Thought you liked me ..-a little wild,” he says seductively, his voice low and challenging heavy with the weight of alcohol.

“That’s why I’m taking you to my place,” you whisper with a grin your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you speak.

As you pull back to look at him his eyes are dark with desire, and that smirk—lazy and dangerous makes you bite your lip.

After settling the bill, you glance over at Hank, his eyes glazed and unfocused, the weight of the night’s drinks clearly settling in. You know full well he’d never have let you pay if he were in any condition to argue.

“Come on, Hank,” you say, offering him your hand. He blinks up at you, eyes flickering with something soft and unfocused, as if he’s just now realizing what kind of situation he’s in.

He takes your hand, his grip warm and surprisingly gentle, but the second he tries to stand, he slightly sways, leaning heavily against you, forcing you to reach for his arm to keep him steady.

He looks at you then, a slow smile tugging at his lips, his gaze lingering in that way that’s softened by the haze of alcohol.

“You really can’t resist taking care of me, can you?” He says slowly as he looks down at you, and in that moment there’s no denying your feeling for him.

His eyes hold a magnetic pull with an intensity that seems to cut right through you.

His sandy blonde hair falls perfectly into place, framing his smirk that’s equal parts devilish and alluring.

Even in his wasted state— Hank is irresistible, and before you know it, his hand is in yours, fingers intertwining as you pull him out into the night.

Hank’s laughter echoes through the quiet street, loud and unrestrained, as he stumbles out of the bar with you. He leans heavily against your shoulder as you wave down the first cab you see.

But Hank isn’t ready to call it a night, and as the cab pulls up he slips from your hold, stumbling in front of the it with a wild, defiant grin and spreads his arms wide, yelling like he’s a baseball announcer.

“He’s safe!” Hank yells, his voice booming as he throws his arms wide, mimicking an umpire calling a play. “The bases are loaded, and he’s safe!” he shouts again, wild with enthusiasm, drumming his hands down on the hood of the cab. The sharp sound startles the driver, who slams on the gas, tires squealing against the pavement as Hank stumbles back, grinning.

“He’s outta here!” Hank slurs, pointing sloppily after the departing taxi and laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world, completely oblivious to the situation until he catches the concerned look on your face.

“Hank, what was that for?” you ask, your tone edged with frustration. You’re tipsy, a little off-balance yourself, but nowhere near his level of wasted.

“I… I’m not going back to your place,” he mutters, his gaze fixed on you and your expression shifts waiting and expecting him to take it back, to laugh it off like some twisted joke, but he doesn’t.

“Hank, what are you saying?” you manage, your voice wavering from the alcohol clouding your head.

Hank’s gaze drops to the ground, his expression shifting, like he’s struggling against something he can’t put into words and you catch the flicker of frustration in his eyes as he avoids your stare.

“You’re not safe with me,” he mutters, barely audible. “We… we can’t see each other for a while.”

His words hang in the air between you, completely catching you off guard as you search his face, desperate to understand.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, his voice low, almost like he’s talking more to himself than to you.

Your breath catches, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. “Hurt me? Hank, what are you even talking about?” You take a step closer, trying to catch his eye, but he looks away.

He shakes his head, frustration flickering across his face. “You don’t get it. There’s… things about me that you don’t know.” He swallows, his voice raw. “I thought I could keep you safe from all of it, but I can’t. You’re not safe with me.”

A chill runs down your spine, and you feel your heart pounding faster. “Hank, you don’t get to just decide that for me. Whatever you’re dealing with, let me in… I want to understand. We can handle this together.”

He lets out a hollow laugh, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours, though there’s a hardness there you’ve never seen before. “You think it’s that easy? That I can just let you in and everything will be fine?” His words are harsh, but you can sense the pain underneath. “I’m telling you, we can’t see each other for a while. It’s better this way.”

“So… that’s it?” you ask, your voice sounding strange, thin, and trembling

He runs a hand through his hair, the gesture tense and agitated. “I’m a mess,” he mutters, his gaze finally meeting yours, a mix of regret and something almost like fear shadowing his eyes.

“You wanted me, Hank. You brought me into this—you made me —feel things, flaws and all. I know you’re not perfect. I’ve seen you struggle, and I still wanted you… chose you. And now you’re just telling me I should leave?”

He opens his mouth as if to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, his expression hardens, like he’s trying to keep everything locked away, the silence stretching between you, heavy and raw. The alcohol only amplifies the ache, blurring the edges making it harder to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over.

Finally, you draw in a shaky breath, willing your voice to stay steady. “Fine. If you’re not going to let me in… if you’re just going to shut me out when things get tough… maybe your right .”

Without a second thought you walk away from him as you wave down an approaching taxi.

“You’re the one who pulled me in, Hank. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me some kind of favor by pushing me way,” you yell over your shoulder, the words raw and full of everything you’ve been holding back.

“Wait… please!” he calls after you, stumbling forward, his voice breaking. “I didn’t… I don’t… this isn’t what I want!” His words are jumbled and desperate, with his internal struggle.

But it’s too late. You’re already sliding into the backseat of the cab, slamming the door shut on whatever the hell this was supposed to be, finally letting him feel the weight of this situationship for once .

As the taxi pulls away, you can still hear him calling your name in the street, his voice fading with each passing second.

Over an hour passes as you begin to sober up, the sting of the night slowly dulling as you step out of a long, hot shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you breathe deeply, hoping to wash away the heart ache that lingers, though it clings stubbornly, refusing to dissolve.

You slip into your nightie, the silk fabric sliding over your skin, doing little to ease the strange emptiness settling inside.

You wonder if Hank is okay, wonder if he’s feeling even a fraction of what’s tearing through right now and you suddenly just wanting to be back in his arms, without thinking, you grab your phone from your purse.

The screen it lit up with notifications—over a dozen missed calls from Hank. Each one is a silent plea, his desperate attempt to reach you, a sign that he wasn’t ready to let you go any more than you were ready to leave. But you don't answer. Not in the taxi, and not now.

You clutch the phone tightly, staring at his name on the screen, and your heart fills with the reassurance that at least for now he wants you just as much as you want him.

You almost press the call button, but you can’t, not yet. You need him to show you what you truly mean to him, to stop pushing you away only to pull you back in when it suits him—-to finally stop playing dirty.

A knock comes softly at your front door barely audible at first, but when you don’t answer, it becomes more insistent filling the silence of your apartment.

When you check the peephole and see Hank standing there, your heart skips a beat as you slowly open the door.

He stands there with his hands shoved into his pockets, his tall frame slouched, shoulders down, his whole posture reflecting the weight of his guilt.

His sandy blonde hair is now tousled, his full lips almost in a pout, and his eyes, those soft blue pleading eyes, are practically begging even before he speaks.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his voice lower laced with a hint of shame as his gaze flickers downward.

“For what? So you can tell me to leave you again?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

He blinks, clearly taken aback, his expression flickering with surprise and a hint of hurt not expecting such a cold reaction from you.

“That’s not… that’s not what I meant, alright…” His voice trails off as he looks down, avoiding your eyes.

You watch him struggle with his feelings, his hands running through his hair, frustration clear in every movement. “Fuck—I don’t know how to do this,” he mutters, his voice rough as he tries to gather his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, his voice softer now, and he looks up at you with the most unmistakable puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen.

Your breath catches at how pretty he looks but you hold firm, waiting for him to finally decide whether he’s willing to trust you enough to let you in.

“You hurt me tonight, Hank.” You remark, you our voice laced with dissatisfaction.

His head lowers “I know…” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I just—fuck, I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have said that”

“It’s just…” he pauses, taking a shaky breath. “Right now, I’m caught up in something that’s spiraling out of control— and I don’t want you to leave me— I want you more than anything right now.”

You lift your chin, feeling his words stirring something deep inside.

“Then tell me what it is you’re hiding from me. If being with you is such a risk, then lay it out, Hank. Be honest with me.”

He stares at you, a mix of fear and yearning in his eyes, like he’s torn between wanting to let you in and wanting to protect you by keeping his distance.

“I will tell you,” he finally says, nodding slowly,. “But you have to give me time.”

He reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. “Please just… let me in. Please let me make it up to you.”

You feel your resolve soften as his words linger in the air and he looks so vulnerable, practically begging with those eyes of his.

With a sigh, you step aside, allowing him to walk in.

“You owe me more than an apology tonight Hank,” you confirm, your tone steady as he watches you lock the door.

“What can I do?” he asks, his voice quieter, his expression laced with remorse. “I’ll do anything.”

His words send small wave of satisfaction through you, though you don’t let him see it, instead you hold his gaze, watching as he waits, anticipation flickering in his eyes.

“Like I said you owe me more than an apology,” you repeat, your voice taking on a more dangerous edge as you walk past him.

Hanks eyes follows your movements, his confusion slowly turning into understanding that this is about more than an apology.

You pause for a moment, letting the silence hang between you, before you give him your command casual and calm.

“Get on your knees for me.”

Hanks body tenses, and for a split second, you can see him hesitate.

But then he does just as you say and slowly sinks to his knees.

As you watch him a small smile forms on your lips, because there’s something deliciously satisfying about seeing Hank this way.

As you stand directly in front of him, his breaths are a little uneven, and when you place your hand in his sandy blonde hair, tilting his head back a gasp escapes his lips.

His eyes are pleading as they meet yours, his usual confidence nowhere to be found and as you tug his hair a little harder making him wince, the thrill of having him completely at your mercy sends a surge of excitement through you.

“Look at you,” you tease, your voice soft but commanding. “kneeling in front of me like the mess that you are.”

Hank’s breath catches in his throat, hearing his own words thrown back at him, and his hand reaches out, trembling just a little as his fingertips trail up your bare thigh, inching toward the hem of your nightie.

You narrow you eyes as you tsk at him.

“Did I say you could touch me?” you ask with authority.

He brings his hand back immediately, “No you didn’t” he says full of apology as he looks up at you.

You faintly smile at how he listens and release his hair gently tucking the strands behind his ears.

“Good boy,” you coo, your voice dripping with satisfaction as you look at him. “You’re going to do exactly what I say tonight, aren’t you?”

Hank nods, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Y-yeah,” he stammers, his voice unsteady, eyes flickering with a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty.

You lean down just enough so that your fingertips trail over his jaw. “You’ve got a lot to make up for tonight ,” you whisper, your tone laced with promise. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you do it right.”

You slowly straighten up, your nightie brushing softly against your thighs and Hank’s eyes lock onto it but his hands stay obediently at his sides, exactly where you want them.

Your hands freely glide down your body teasing him, and you can see the lust in his eyes—his desperate desire to touch you, to be forgiven in the most physical way.

He slightly licks his lips, and you smirk, watching the way his fingers twitch, wanting to touch you.

Slowly, you lift up your nightie up, just enough to give him a teasing glimpse of your bare skin.

“You’re not wearing… panties,” he breathes, his voice filled with an unmistakable edge of desire and as he stares between your legs his restraint immediately falters as he tries to stand.

With one fluid motion, you drape your leg over his shoulder pushing him down with just enough force to keep him on his knees.

His breath hitches in surprise as you reach down, grabbing a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back just enough to assert your control.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you ask, your voice a low purr. Hank groans, a pitiful sound that only makes you tug harder. His eyes dart up to meet yours, wide with a mix of apology and raw desire.

“Please…” he whispers, his voice barely above a rasp, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. “Let me fix it—let me just—”you cut him off with another firm pull on his hair.

“Fuck!” He yells his face wincing as you tilt his head back harder.

“No Hank, you don’t get to decide what you want.” you command, your voice unwavering. “Tonight you’re here to please me. Isn’t that right?”

Hank’s blue eyes flicker up to meet yours, a hint of vulnerability and arousal shining through as he slowly nods.

“Good boy,” you coo, your voice soft and sweet “Now, do as you’re told.”

With your hand firmly in his hair, you position him exactly where you want him between your legs.

“Show me just how sorry you are.” You command him.

He obeys, opening his mouth and eagerly licking his tongue along your pussy.

He moves his head in perfect rhythm, his mouth working with a combination of desperation and skill that has you softly gasping.

You look down at him and see hes enjoying every minute of eating you out, his eyes fluttering closed as he focuses entirely on pleasing you, the tension in his body telling you just how badly he wants to do it right.

“You like this don’t you Hank,?” you ask, your voice breathy as you watch the way he devours you like a man starved.

He nods eagerly, his mouth too occupied to respond properly, but his moans against your pussy are the only answer you need.

You arch your back slightly, feeling a wave of pleasure roll through you as he intensifies his efforts. “Mmm Hank… Just like that,” you praise, tightening your grip in his hair, guiding him exactly where you want him. He moans against your pussy, your praise driving him wild as he keeps going with raw devotion.

A soft moan escapes your lips as he deepens his attentions with his tongue, every thrust sending a ripple of sensation through you. “You’re doing so well for me Hank…-almost making me forget …-what an idiot you were tonight ” you praise, your fingers tangling tighter in his hair.

Hank’s eyes flick up to meet yours, and the sheer devotion in his gaze is almost enough to make you forgive him. Almost. But for now, you’re going to make him work for it.

As he becomes more focused, you feel a surge of arousal building within you, your breaths coming heavier, each one a little more unrestrained, until soft moans begin to spill from your lips.

The intensity in his gaze only deepens as he senses you nearing the edge, spurring him to work harder, each movement faster and. perfectly timed.

Your body tenses as your head falls back and you orgasm with Hank’s mouth pressed against your pussy.

You push against his face as the pleasure rolls though you until the intensity of your orgasm begins to subside, then you gently pull his head back, releasing his hair and savoring the dazed dreamlike look in his eyes as he catches his breath.

“Please…” he whispers pressing his face against your leg ”Let me give you more” he asks, his voice is low and desperate and you can feel his ragged breaths against your skin as he presses gentle, lingering kisses along your inner thigh,

His hand starts to move up, his fingers reaching to satisfy you, trying everything in his power to get the reaction he wants, but you catch his wrist before he even touches you.

“You don’t get to decide when or how you please me tonight.” you say, your tone resolute.

You release his hand his eyes are filled with a dying need, craving the chance to satisfy you again.

“Get up,” you order him as you lift your leg from his shoulder and he immediately stands.

Hank is much taller than you and as you stare up at him you can see the way he holds himself back.

You take a step aside, your gaze steady as you point to the bedroom. “Go,” you command your voice unwavering.

Hank doesn’t hesitate as he stumbles toward the bedroom door. The adrenaline of the moment is still coursing through him, but the alcohol delays his movements just enough to make him a little less graceful than usual. You follow behind, taking your time, knowing exactly what’s in store for him.

Once he’s inside the bedroom, you stand at the door, watching the way he waits for you, his body tense with anticipation and you let the silence linger, as he feels the full weight of your gaze.

You take in every detail of his stance, his pupils wide his breaths panting and the unmistakable hardness of his cock pressing insistently against the fabric of his cargos.

“Undress for me” you command your eyes flicking up to meet his and he readily obeys.

You watch as he fumbles with his shirt, stripping it off clumsily then his hands move to his belt and he struggles with the buckle due to his drunkenness.

“On the bed,” you instruct, your voice direct and sharp cutting through the room before he’s even undressed.

Hank looks up at you desperation in his eyes still half clothed “shit” he mutters moving faster his belt slipping from his hands as he drops his pants to the floor.

He’s hard—so hard, you can practically see the tension in his heavy cock as he climbs onto the bed, laying back.

His eyes follow your every movement, his chest rising and falling heavily with anticipation. His cock is strained hard with the need for release, but he’s smart enough to know you’re still in control.

You step toward him, bending down slowly to pick up his discarded belt from the floor and you can see the realization flash across his face as you loop the leather strap around your fingers, testing its weight.

“Hands,” you command, nodding toward the headboard.

Hank’s arms shoot up without hesitation, his eyes never leaving yours as you lean over him, wrapping the belt around his wrists and tying him securely to the bars of the headboard. He squirms a little beneath you, testing the restraint.

“Comfortable?” you ask, your voice filled with amusement as you pull the belt tight, securing it with a final tug.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his voice shaky but eager, the restraints on his arms only making the moment more exciting for him.

“Good,” you say,as you run your hand down the length of his chest, watching the way his muscles tense under your touch. “Because you’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied again.”

A soft sigh of pleasure escapes his lips as you climb on top of him, your thighs brushing his, teasing him with just enough contact to drive him insane but not giving him he craves. His hips buck instantly, and you press down on his chest, holding him still.

You shake your head as you lean in, your breath warm against his ear. “You don’t move until I say so.”

Hank bites down on his lip, his eyes screwing shut as he tries to control himself. His whole body is tense, as you slide a hand down his abs, purposefully avoiding his erection. You tease him every where else with touch and lean back, just enough to watch his reaction, enjoying how desperate he looks.

“Do you think I’m going to let you off easily tonight?” you ask, your voice soft but filled with authority.

“N-no,” he whispers, shaking his head. He’s panting now, clearly fighting to keep himself under control, and you can see the strain it’s causing him. Every vein in his hard cock is pulsing with need, but he knows better than to push you.

You reach into your nightstand, retrieving a condom. His cock stands hard and flushed, the tip a deep pink, from his arousal. His breath hitches as you put it on but he doesn’t move as you carefully roll it down his length to the base.

You smile, pleased with his obedience and you shift your hips, finally positioning yourself over him, just enough to brush yourself against him, letting him feel you without giving him what he so desperately desires.

His hips jerk upward instinctively, and you push them back down with firm hands, keeping him pinned beneath you.

“You’re going to wait until I’m ready.” you instruct and Hank lets out a low groan, his wrists pulling against the belt as he strains to keep still.

You slowly lower down onto his large cock, watching the way his face softens with pleasure, it feels so good you both moan as you settle on the base and you begin to ride him gently, your breaths coming in soft pants as you roll your hips against him.

His eyes are wide and pleading, as he watches you gliding up and down on his cock with agonizing slowness never giving him just enough to push him over the edge.

His face is a picture of barely contained bliss, his usually steady jaw now slack, lips parted as he tries to keep his focus.

You feel the subtle twitch of his cock inside you, the undeniable sign he will come despite his efforts to hold back.

You stop your movements, leaning down to press a single, lingering kiss against his neck. “You come when I say,” you whisper, your lowering your mouth with intent, gently sucking a sensitive spot just above his collarbone to form a bruise.

Hank lets out a soft, sigh,savoring the sensation as your lips leave a subtle mark.

You continue to use him for your pleasure, grinding down on him, taking your time, reveling in the way his body trembles beneath you.

His breaths grow ragged, his chest heaving as he tries to keep himself from coming, and you can feel the tension building in him, his cock becoming harder as his desperation mounts with every passing second.

Your climax builds within, your thighs tightening around his waist as the tension peaks, each pulse intensifying the sensation between you. As you orgasm, your walls tightens around him, every contraction amplifying the pleasure for both of you.

He groans feeling you come, his hands pulling futilely against the belt as you begin to grind down on him harder, sending him spiraling over the edge.

“Come for me, Hank,” you gasp, your voice filled with anticipation, and he lets out a deep, guttural groan, his head tilting back as his eyes squeeze shut feeling the intensity of pleasure take over.

His abs are flexing hard as you feel the full power of his release, his hips jutting up hard as he comes in you.

You moan above him feeling all his control and composure lost in one, overwhelming moment. He is left breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the condom holds the warmth of his come inside you.

Before and he can even think about moving, you lean down, your lips close to his ear.

“Don’t you ever hurt me like that again,” you say, your voice breathless but firm.

Hank nods weakly, too spent to say anything, but you know he understands.

You reach up, finally releasing the belt from his wrists, and the moment his hands are free, he moves quickly, his fingers finding their way to your hair, pulling you in as his lips press against yours in a heavy desperate kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between kisses, his voice laden with the sincerity. “I didn’t mean it… I’m so damn sorry.”

You run your fingers gently through his hair, soothing him as you pull back from the kiss. “I know,” you whisper, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips as you meet his gaze.

You continue to stroke his hair as he sighs, the tension in his body easing under your touch.

His face is soft and vulnerable, his sandy blonde hair falling gently along his jawline, framing his captivating blue eyes.

As he looks at you, his full lips curve into a faint, knowing smile, and his hand finds yours, guiding it to rest over his chest.

“You played hard ball with me tonight,” he says, his voice low, a spark of that familiar mischief lighting his eyes. “And I liked it,” he grins, the softness in his expression and the way he looks at you like he’s ready to do it all over again, tells you it won’t be just reserved for earned punishments.

His expression shifts, a glimmer of something raw flashing across his face.

“I don’t want to lose you ” He confesses the words slipping out before he can stop them, and he searches your face, almost uncertain, as if he’s laid himself bare in a way he hasn’t before.

The simple truth of his words resonates deeply, and you feel a pull to ask him more, to understand what’s haunting him, what he’s been carrying in silence.

But instead, you settle into the warmth of his embrace, grateful knowing that in time, he will tell you everything.

You want Hank—more than what’s good for you, more than what is safe for your heart and as he holds you close, so peaceful and serene you know a part of him feels the same way about you.

🧢 End 🧢

🔗 Masterlist

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[fushitoru]

seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader

summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!

warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)

a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)

general masterlist

“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”

The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.

Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.

At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”

You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.

But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”

A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene." 

His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in. 

As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”

“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.

“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”

Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”

“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.

“No, but—”

His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”

He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.

“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”

As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers. 

Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!” 

“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”

Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.

Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.

With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”

To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up. 

“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”

You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.

Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under. 

Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”

In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck. 

a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry 

The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless. 

It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”

“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table. 

“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond. 

A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”

Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?” 

At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.

It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage. 

Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”

general masterlist

a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3

[ctzenjohnnyreads]

a moodboard for my feelings abt this fic, i loved it so much it spiked my delusion levels for this quarter for sure 🫡

This Is Devotion | csc x f!reader

You've spent your whole life taking care of yourself. Seungcheol thinks it's time someone else took over.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.0k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: alcohol mention (they meet at a bar), daddy kink, sugar daddy vibes but he’s a bf first, fingering, praise kink, v light choking, condomless piv sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, breeding kink and impreg kink but mainly at the end, wants to wife you up fr

Reader Notes: eldest daughter, on birth control, gets carried by cheol

Seungcheol didn’t really expect to meet the love of his life at a bar on a regular Friday night, but as soon as he saw you, he knew you were something special. And as soon as he spoke to you, got to know you, he knew he wanted to learn more. 

The way you carried yourself didn’t make you seem the most receptive - you were closed off, seemingly disinterested, but when he started to back away, intending to let you enjoy your night without him as you appeared to want, you got this look in your eye like he was doing exactly the opposite of what you desired. 

So he stuck around, asked if he could buy you a drink, keeping a respectful distance between your body and his even though he felt like you were a celestial being with your own gravity pulling him in. He learned a lot about you that night - what you do for work, what you do for fun, whether you’d be open to him taking you out - but he didn’t learn what it was that made you so standoffish when he first approached you. 

That didn’t come until later, until the fourth date and the family talk. Over a dinner he spent hours preparing, you told him that you were the eldest of three children, and that you’d practically raised your younger siblings yourself. Your parents worked hard, too hard to spend much time or energy on you, so you raised yourself too. 

You took on two jobs to pay for college because most of your family’s money was spent on your younger siblings' extracurriculars, and you graduated with honors but with no one to cheer for you, to celebrate you. They were all too busy, apparently, though Seungcheol didn’t know what could possibly be more important than you reaping the reward of all the effort and stress you had put into your schooling. 

He tried to tell you that you deserved better, but you were adamant that you were used to taking care of yourself, to being alone. You said that the friends you made along the way were your new family and that they treated you better than you deserved. 

Seungcheol could have talked until he was blue in the face about just what it was he thought you deserved. 

He knew you wouldn’t hear it though, so he took it upon himself to show you instead. 

It wasn’t long after that date that he asked if he could be your boyfriend, and as soon as you said yes, he vowed to himself that as long as you kept him around, you would know what it was to be taken care of. 

He started slow. First, it was making sure your car always had gas and your oil changes were always up to date. You used to drive it almost to empty, and he knew that was bad for both your fuel pump and your stress levels, so he would pop into your work every so often to bring you your favorite little treat and grab your keys to fill it up. You always gave him your credit card and he always took it, but never once did he make use of it. 

Once you grew accustomed to that, he moved on to being your driver for girl’s night out. You would always text him while you were in the uber so he knew you were safe, but after one too many sleazy guys flirted with you and your friends, he stepped in. You had already shared locations with each other (again, for safety reasons), so when you texted him that you were gearing up to go, he told you to cancel the ride and look for his car instead. 

He drove every one of your friends home and saw them up to their door before taking you back to your apartment, lovingly removing your makeup, and getting you into pajamas. He tried to tuck you in and leave, but you caught his hand and tugged him into bed with you, snuggling up under his arm before promptly knocking out. Knowing that you felt safe enough to fall asleep with him was his favorite form of payment. 

You had one, maybe two outings a month, and Seungcheol was happy to keep those nights clear of plans so he could make sure you and all your friends got home safely. It was just a bonus that every one of those nights turned into a sleepover with you wrapped up in his arms, warm and soft against him.  

It wasn’t until a few months in that he started spending more money on you. He loved to buy you snacks and milk teas and lip gloss but he knew there were things you wanted that were simply out of your budget. He also knew you would never let him pay your rent so you could buy those things, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t buy them for you. So he would take you out shopping under the pretense of needing something new himself, keeping an eye on what your eye lingered on and making note of it in his mind. 

The first purchase was a necklace you loved so much, the sight of it made you gasp. He was getting his watch repaired and you had wandered off to look around, and when he heard that gasp he knew instantly that whatever it was, it would be yours. It took him all of two minutes to flag an employee down, ask them to package up the item you loved, and add it to his total. 

When he presented it to you, you tried to say it was too much, that you couldn’t accept such a gift. He pouted until you sighed and moved your hair out of the way, allowing him to put the necklace on you and smiling a small, pleased smile as you felt at the delicate chain and pendant. 

After that came dresses and shoes and cookware and other things you would never let yourself splurge on but you also wouldn’t want to say no to. You worried for his finances but Seungcheol was a smart spender before you, and he earned and saved enough that every gift for you barely made a dent. It was money he was happy to spend, especially when he got to see you wearing or using the things he bought you. 

You would joke and say he wasn’t just your boyfriend but your sugar daddy, and he laughed, at first. 

Then, he thought about it more, thought about how he lived to take care of you, to show you what you deserved, to make sure you were happy and healthy and safe, and he realized that maybe he was your sugar daddy, in a way. 

Hearing you call him daddy for the first time still almost sends him to an early grave, though. 

It happens when he’s balls deep inside of you. Your thighs are hitched up high on his waist and your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding him close enough he has to brace himself on his forearms and fold his knees on either side of your hips. It’s not like that’s a hardship, not when he can press his forehead to yours and breathe your air, staring into your eyes as he fucks in and out of you, your pussy perfectly formed around his aching cock. 

He loves feeling close to you like this, and the closeness is the only reason he hears it. 

“Daddy,” you sigh, in the smallest voice he’s ever heard from you. 

He stills immediately, his dick throbbing and leaking inside of you as he tries to hold off his orgasm, his heart thumping so hard in his chest, he’s fearful it’ll jump out of his ribcage and straight into yours. 

“What did you say?” He asks, because he’s sure there’s no way you called him that, independent and self-reliant as you are. 

“Nothing,” you respond much too quickly, and he wants to press further, but your voice is nervous and your face is tense, and he doesn’t want to push you if you’re not ready. 

So he keeps going, fucks you until you cum and then fills you up, dragging you into the shower after so he can rinse you clean and get you into some warm pajamas.

Seungcheol wakes before you the next day, uses the time to stare at you and think everything through. 

You’ve always had to take care of yourself, always had to fill other cups before your own, until he came along. Over the year and a half that he’s spent with you, he’s made every effort to take the load off, to tend to you in ways that you’ve never experienced before. You’ve softened up over time, gotten used to him protecting and nurturing you, and you’ve rewarded him with your trust and your love. 

It makes sense that you would call him daddy, and it makes sense that he would fucking adore it. 

So when you start to stir, he tucks you closer to him, your back aligned with his front and his hardening cock pressed into the plush of your ass. One arm is draped over your waist, his hand covering your breast, and his other arm is stretched out beneath your neck, bent at the elbow to band over your chest and hold your shoulder. You’re completely wrapped up in him, and as soon as you hum and tilt your hips back into his, he kisses up your neck and murmurs, “Let me take care of you, baby. Let daddy do the work, huh?” 

You gasp and wriggle in his hold, but he hugs you tighter and says, “That’s what you called me last night, right? I don’t mind, sweetheart.” 

“Are you sure it’s not… weird?” You whisper quietly, and he can picture the anxious expression you must be wearing. He gently sinks his teeth into your neck before responding, “It’s not weird to me, baby. You know I love taking care of you.”

You relax muscle by muscle, and by the time his hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up and out, you’re boneless against him. “Can you hold that leg up for me, honey? I’m gonna touch you.”

“Okay, daddy,” you sigh sweetly as you take over for him, his entire body lighting up at the sound of you saying that word with such ease. 

You’re drenched when he slides his fingers between your legs, pushing aside your pajama shorts to touch you bare and groaning at the feeling of your soaking heat. His fingertips glide as he drags them from your entrance up to your clit, soft little sounds escaping you when he presses circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

He thinks this might be the wettest you’ve ever been for him, and he luxuriates in the feeling of having cracked your code, of knowing that you’ve never been more open or trusting with him before. It means he’ll have to treat you delicately, but Seungcheol is nothing if not devoted, dedicated, committed to being everything you could ever need.

He works you up just like this, with his fingertips soft on your clit and his lips gentle on your neck, mumbling little promises about how daddy will always make you feel good, always love you, always put you first. 

“I want you inside, daddy,” you cry, and he feels himself throb against you, leaking in his boxers and desiring you more than the air he breathes. 

“Cum for me first, baby, I know you can do it.”

To help you along, he slips two fingers inside of you, his thumb taking over on your clit, pressing insistently as his fingers curl, searching for the spot that always makes you gush. He finds it quickly, grinding with his fingertips as he wraps his other hand around the base of your neck, barely squeezing. A grin stretches his lips when you start to move with him, your walls clenching down on his digits as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

He knows you’re right there by the sounds escaping you, by the way your cunt is fluttering around his fingers, by the arousal seeping out with every dig into your sweet spot. It’s really just a matter of timing and luck that you break when he says, “You’re such a good girl for daddy, show me how good you are and cum.”

The whine you let out is enough to have him bucking into you, the sound so plaintive and vulnerable that he wants to wrap you up tight in his arms and never let you go. Your pussy weeps around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and squeezing in pulses, your walls gripping them strongly enough that he feels the phantom pressure around his cock. 

“So fucking perfect, so sweet and beautiful and wet for me, baby. Fuck, I love you,” Seungcheol pants into your throat, dotting the soft skin with kisses and little bites. 

“I love you. Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You try to turn your head to look at him and he breathes, “Yes, baby,” before freeing his fingers with a slick sound and sucking them into his mouth. He hums at the taste of you as he shifts away, giving you enough space to roll onto your back and kneeling between your legs when you spread them. 

He’s fucked you from behind before and he will again, but right now he wants to gaze into your eyes, watch your lips form around the word he didn’t know he’s been aching to hear. 

You’re too pretty for him to not look at you anyway, especially as he tugs one thigh up around his waist and pushes the other up to your belly. He loves getting you into position, loves the way you stare trustingly at him and let him move you, loves knowing that you believe he’ll never do anything but bring you pleasure. 

He tucks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down, grinning bashfully and feeling his ears heat as your eyes immediately drop to his cock. He’s insanely hard for you, flushed and leaking and desperate, and he feels himself twitch when you whimper, “Daddy, please, I need you so bad.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll always give you what you need,” he promises, pushing your pajama shorts to the side again and taking hold of his dick to line himself up. 

He can’t resist gliding the head of his cock through your wet folds, grinding into your clit before sliding down and starting to sink inside. A groan escapes without his permission but he doesn’t try to swallow it, wants you to know what you do to him, how you make him feel. 

Being surrounded, enveloped by you is the best sensation in the world, the grip of your wet heat dizzying and comforting and more than enough to drive him crazy, no matter how many times he’s felt you before. 

Your cunt is heaven on earth, like nothing else he’s ever experienced, and he considers it his sacred duty to make sure you never forget that. 

“Perfect fucking pussy, baby, god,” he moans, barely halfway inside of you and already feeling the flames of pleasure licking at his spine. 

You flutter around him at his words, your arms rising to wrap around his neck and draw him in close, mirroring the exact position he had you in last night.

You must realize it too because your breath hitches before you tilt your head up and gently press your lips to his, mumbling, “Daddy,” into his mouth as he finally bottoms out. It makes him twitch inside of you, makes his hips roll into yours, makes his heart feel so full, it aches. 

He almost can’t bear to leave you but he knows he’ll have to if he wants to fuck you, so with only a little reluctance, he draws back, fighting a shiver when cold air hits the wetness on his cock. 

You dig your heel into his ass and urge him forward, your eyes needy and your gasp desperate as he bucks into you and fills you again. You used to need some time to adjust to him, but you take him often enough now that he can move within you smoothly, your generous arousal easing the way even as your walls cling to him. 

The rhythm he sets is slow, measured, but he slides in deep and hooks his hips up on the way out to drag over your sweet spot, your pussy just getting wetter and wetter around him. The sounds are obscene, the slap of his hips meeting your ass and the squelch of his cock reaching the end of you loud compared to the peaceful silence of the early morning. 

Every time he gets inside of you feels like the first but is somehow better than the last, and he knows that doesn’t make sense but he’s senseless when it comes to you anyway, his logic and reasoning replaced by tenderness and infatuation. It’s even worse now that there’s this added facet of caring, of responsibility, this knowledge that you’re entrusting him with a side of you he’s sure no one has ever seen before. 

“How is it, baby?” His voice is ragged, tight and rough with lust when he speaks, but his tone is as gentle and loving as his thrusts are. 

A minute passes before you can respond and he practically watches the words form in your head, his gaze heavy on you as you put them together letter by letter. 

“So good, daddy, you make me feel… whole,” you sigh blissfully, your fingers twirling the hair at the nape of his neck and your inner muscles clenching around him. 

He can’t hold back the shiver this time, not when your response floods him with greedy affection and a covetous sense of possession, one that goes both ways. He belongs to you as much as you belong to him, and he knows you belong together just like he knows that the sky is blue and the earth is round. 

It’s frightening, almost, to think that there’s nothing on this planet that he loves more than he loves you. But it’s worth the risk, worth the vulnerability, worth the fear to get to be the one who makes you feel whole. He can’t help but hope he’ll be the only one who does for the rest of your life. 

Which is a dangerous vein of thought considering the fact that he already has a 3 carat diamond ring hidden in his study, just waiting to be slid onto your left fourth finger. 

He’s inches from disentangling himself from you to go get it, but this is neither the time nor the place. 

Instead, he leans in and ardently locks his lips with yours, breathing into you all of his passion, all of his sincerity. You kiss him back like you can taste it, adjusting your leg around his waist so you can hold him closer, his movements in and out turning into a slow, dirty grind. 

“Love you so fucking much,” he murmurs into your mouth, his mouth stretching in a grin when you mumble back to him, “Love you more, Cheollie.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, baby,” he chuckles brokenly, pleasure starting to knot low in his belly, his cock growing harder and his balls tightening as he gets closer and closer. 

“Agree to disagree,” you laugh breathlessly, tugging his hair and gasping sharply when he snakes one hand between your bodies to rub at your swollen clit. 

You squeeze down around him, your pussy molding to his cock like he was made for you, made to fill you where you’re empty, and fuck, he’s sure he was. Every part of him was built for loving you, there’s no other explanation for how flawlessly you fit in his arms, his life, his heart. 

He can tell you’re nearing the edge, your walls spasming and your eyes glazing over, and he holds off his own release even as it spools in his stomach like molten twine. Breaking before you simply isn’t an option; breaking after you is, but he knows well that any nirvana he could reach is infinitely better when he reaches it with you. 

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? For daddy? I’ll fuck you full of my cum if you do,” he promises darkly, already envisioning himself spreading your legs and watching his seed seep out of your stretched pussy. 

“Yeah, daddy, I’m- I’m-” 

A weak cry cuts you off, your mouth stuck open as tears dampen your lashes and leak down your temples. Your cunt clamps down around him in pulses, so hot and wet and tight that it draws out his own orgasm, his heart pounding as his cock jerks and spurts cum deep inside of you, so deep he wonders if it’ll stick. You’re on birth control but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want to make you his wife then breed you full, get you pregnant, leave no room for doubt that he both loves you and fucks you like you deserve. 

The thought makes him hard enough to keep going, to grind into you and push his cum even deeper inside, his fingers still swirling circles around your sensitive clit. It’s not long before you’re digging your nails into his shoulders and keening for him, your thighs shaking and your back arching off the bed as you fall to pieces again. 

He slides his arm beneath your shoulders and hefts you up against him, burying his face in your neck and holding you close as he cums inside of you for the second time. This one leaves him a bit teary eyed too, thoughts and wishes and desires racing through his mind, visions of the life you could share making him swallow down a sob. 

You sense the shift in his emotions, your fingers carding through his hair and your voice soft as you tell him that you love him, that you always will, that you’ll spend all the rest of your life making sure he knows. 

Seungcheol feels like this is his job but the comfort you bring him is worth admitting that he can be just as needy as you. 

He stays tangled up with you for what feels like ages, long enough for the sweat on his back to dry and the arm underneath you to fall asleep, and when he emerges, he feels like a new man. 

A new man that still wants to lay between your thighs and watch his cum leak out of you. 

You’re not shy about it anymore, happy to let your legs fall open and drag your nails over his scalp as he rests his head on your soft inner thigh, his eyes locked on your glistening cunt. 

“Prettiest pussy in the whole wide world,” he mumbles dazedly before glancing up at your face and correcting himself, “Prettiest baby in the whole wide world.”

Minutes pass before you squirm in discomfort and he peels himself away, accepting that it’s time to get you in the bath. 

“C’mon, honey, up you go,” he says quietly, reaching for your hands and starting to pull you, his biceps tensing when you refuse to cooperate. 

“Carry me, Cheollie,” you beg rather adorably, and he doesn’t even have it in himself to roll his eyes as he leans in close enough for you to wrap your arms and legs around him before straightening up with you attached to his front. 

He hefts you up higher against his body, one arm around your back, the other under your ass, and says, “That’s daddy to you, baby,” as he lumbers to the bathroom, not so secretly pleased to be needed by you. 

AN: i didn't really ever see myself writing full blown daddy kink outside of kinktober but here we are and im not mad about it!!

inspired by discussions with my anons ily all i hope you like it

[kaerinio]

imagine this: you just spent the entire day and evening with daenerys, and it's time to go home. you ask her where her car is, and she lets you know that she was dropped off, and that ride will be coming to take her home. you walk with her to some portion of the sidewalk and chat; she tells you that she had a wonderful time, that she can't wait to spend time with you again, and she kisses you on the cheeks (perhaps on the lips, as well). a black car with heavily tinted windows pulls up, and she alerts you to the fact that it's her ride with a sweet wave, and she prances toward it. out comes barristan, who opens the door for her and helps her in. he gives you a nod in greeting and in farewell. as the car is driving off, dany leans out the window to blow you a kiss, and lauryn hill begins blasting.

[hiraethwrote]

i've always known - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: you'd known each other since childhood, growing as close as two people could grow. there was not anything you didn't do together. but life doesn't always cooperate, creating hurdles even for the most tightknit relations ✧ cw: [MDNI] childhood best friends, afab!reader, college au, fluff!!, ofc some angst sprinkled in here, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, arguing, slightly ooc satoru maybe you be the judge, jealousy, poorly written eventual smut (be patient), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, no use or y/n ✧ word count: 17.0k (yikes sorry)

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were six years old when you met him for the first time.

“Be nice and say hi, sweetie,” your mom spoke softly, only making you squeeze her hand harder and hide behind her.

“Hi,” you said more quiet than a whisper, if that was even possible, looking at the two strangers that had made themselves known.

But it wasn’t the unknown woman that had you so nervous, she seemed kind enough. It was the little boy next to her, a mop of crystal white hair hanging above his piercing blue eyes that were staring directly at you. With his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, he flashed you a toothless grin.

“Hello, I’m Satoru,” his tone chipper, almost like the line was rehearsed. You only stared at him with eyes big as globes before turning towards your mom again.

“Mooom,” you nagged, pulling at her sleeve. “Can we go back inside?”

“In a minute,” she reassured you before turning towards the strangers. “I’m sorry, the moving has been a lot for her,” she chuckled nervously, but the unknown lady only smiled at her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed kindly before turning to you. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other with time.” She shot you a friendly wink, but you only shrunk further being your mom’s leg. Instinctively, she began to rub comforting circles on your back.

“We have no doubt,” she answered for you.

Still feeling Satoru’s eyes on you, you turned to him again. Instantly your eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, not understanding why he was still staring at you, like you were some kind of weirdo.

“I really came by to invite your family over for dinner tomorrow. Wish you welcome to the neighbourhood.” Your mother instantly beamed at the request.

“That’s so nice. We’d love too, right honey?” Shifting the focus to you again. You only shrugged, not daring to look away from the strange boy.

“Great. Just drop by anytime after five and we’ll be home.” The genuine smile only amplified the woman’s already gorgeous face.

Your mom broke the intense staring competition you had with Satoru with a slight shake of the hand. “Why don’t you tell them your name?”

Looking between the two strangers standing on your porch, you shyly mumbled your name, earning you another smile from the boy. What was his deal?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Why don’t you show her your room, Satoru?” The man you assumed to be his dad had said nearly the second your family had stepped into their home.

You’d given your parents a pleading look, begging them to come to your rescue seeing as you were already attending the dinner against your will. With stern glares, you knew you had no choice but to follow Satoru.

With a safe distance behind him, you reluctantly followed him up the stairs, which lead to a door at the end of the long hallway. He was clearly a well mannered kid, surprising you as he actually held the door open for you to enter first.

Small steps lead you into his bedroom and your eyes instantly grew big in awe at the sight of the huge bedroom. It was probably twice the size of yours, filled with all the toys you could imagine. Strengthening your envy was the queen sized bed in the corner of his room, because you had always been told that big beds like that were for grown ups only.

But what captured your full attention was the bookshelves in the opposite side of the room filled with manga from the floor to the ceiling. Shuffling over to them, you let your eyes travel over the familiar titles, spotting all your favourite stories.

“Are all of these yours?” You asked, turning to see him already looking at you with his hands in his pockets. He simply nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face to reveal deep dimples on each side of his face.

Unfair, you thought to yourself. What you would give to have stacked shelves like that, so you’d be able to pick up a new manga the second you’d finished another one.

“How old are you?” The random question made you turn to look at him again, his pride shifted into curiosity with his head tilted.

“Six.” He instantly scrunched his nose, seriously unhappy with your answer.

“Hmm,” he scoffed, looking down at his feet. His reaction couldn’t help but offend you, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. “‘S not fair,” he mumbled as he kicked his feet.

“What isn’t fair?” You whined, drawing his eyes back to you.

“Well, I’m eight,” he complained, but that alone didn’t explain his tone. “So why are you taller than me?” Blinking at him in surprise, a small giggle began to take over your grumpiness. “It’s not funny!”

If your parents had seen you giggle in response to someone clearly upset, you would have earned yourself a strict scowl and a lesson when you got home. Lucky for you, they were downstairs mingling with their new neighbours, so the childish giggle came bursting out of you, causing your to slap both your hands over your mouth to contain yourself.

He knew you were teasing him, but he found himself enjoying the sound of your laugh a little too much to stay upset, his shoulders sinking and eyebrows raising in delight. A subtle blush dusted over his cheeks when he began to think he might just be a little smitten by you already.

Nonetheless, it was the start of your friendship. Throughout the dinner, the two of you held a never ending conversation, which surprised your parents considering how hostile you’d been to even the idea of getting to know the young boy next door.

Both of you put up a fight when it was time for you to leave once the clock had passed nine on a school night. You eventually had to settle for seeing each other again tomorrow. Still so excited to have a new friend, you couldn’t help but tell your parents everything you and Satoru had talked about.

“And he even said I could borrow his mangas if I wanted to!”

“That’s great, honey, but you really have to go to bed now!” Your mom chuckled as she followed you into the bedroom and tucked you in. “Why don’t you tell me the rest tomorrow, hm?” You nodded eagerly, before she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and wishing you good night before leaving your bedroom with the door slightly ajar.

You wanted to drift into sleep, but you couldn’t find it in your body to rest. So like so many other nights, you walked over to your shelves to find something to read. You didn’t manage to get that far, when something outside your window caught your eye. Curiously making your way over, you climbed up on the stool, only to be staring right at Satoru standing in his own window directly across from yours.

It didn’t take long for him to spot you, instantly waving at you with his entire arm. With the same toothless grin you’d been greeted with the previous day, you waved back at him immediately before climbing back into bed more than satisfied.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were ten years old the first time he got grounded because of you.

Over the years, you’d just grown closer and closer for each time you hung out, which was pretty much every day. It was just a given that you would see each other at one point or another throughout the day. And if, for some odd reason, you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet up, you would catch up in the evening from your windows.

There was not a doubt that you two had become best friends. His house felt like a second home, nearly spending more time there than your own home.

Sadly, Satoru’s classmates didn’t think it was cool for him to hang out with someone who was ten. Unlike them, you were a child… and a girl, which meant you brought cooties

“Waiting for your boyfriend,” a taunting voice cooed as it gradually came closer, capturing your attention to meet three boys you recognised from Satoru’s class.

“Not my boyfriend,” you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to give them the attention they so desperately wanted. Turning away from them, you tried to ignore their rapid approach. But before you knew it, they had you surrounded.

“You know, he doesn’t really like hanging out with you.” Glaring daggers at the boy standing right in front of you, you chewed the inside of your cheek in an attempt not to let him get to you. “He’s got better things to do than hang out with stupid girls.”

You tried to cling onto the advice your mother had told you time and time again; if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. But in this moment, that seemed like the worst possible advice. Why should you just stand there and take it when they were throwing all these mean words at you?

“You’re just upset you can’t get anyone to talk to you!” Your voice was venomous, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on him as they only snickered in response.

“Think you’re funny?”

“Just leave me alone!” You fired back, challenging his patronising look at you. For a few seconds, he held your stare before he launched forward and yanked your manga right out of your tiny hands. “Hey! Give it back!” Despite being as tall as the dumb boy, he managed to keep it just out of your reach, no matter how far you tried to stretch for it.

“I’m just having a look,” he laughed as he began to recklessly flip through the pages. From each side of you, you could hear both of his friends laugh to egg him on.

Panting and whining, you tried to reach for your book, but froze in place when you heard the sound of paper ripping. Staring at the manga in his hands, you saw how he had started to tear crumbled pages from the spine. With fake sincerity, he squeaked a small “ops” and continued to laugh. Unable to peer your eyes away from your favourite manga in pieces, the tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. “Awe, are you crying?”

The tears didn’t have time to fall, when a familiar figure came zooming in front of you and crashing into your bully, instantly knocking him to the ground, causing him to scrape his knee. While he kept squirming on the ground, Satoru instantly snatched the book from his hands.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Satoru growled at the boy as he stumbled back on his feet, blood steaming through his torn jeans. His brows were narrowed in pure anger, telling you he was about to retaliate towards your friend, but Satoru sported a stern posture and a look that one would be stupid to defy.

Soon enough, it seemed like the pain set in after a few seconds, and the anger in his eyes turned glossy, trying to hide the fact that his bottom lip was quivering and his nostrils were flaring like he was about to cry.

Satoru shot an ugly glare at the two other boys, who didn’t seem sure what to do with themselves. “You want to taste the gravel as well?” Satoru threatened, the three boys sharing a worrying look. It didn’t take long before they decided to scatter with their tail between their legs. The boy who’d ruined your book, trying to conceal a limp but failing terribly.

The second they had their backs turned to you, Satoru turned his full attention to you with a softened expression, genuinely worried. “You okay?” He hurried to ask, scanning you from top to toe to see if there were any visible injuries. However it was only your pride, and your manga, that was wounded.

Looking down at his hands, the tears came back right away at the scene of the mangled book.

“I’m fine,” you said under your breath, eyes still glued to the manga. Struggling to find the right words to comfort you, his eyes jumped between your glistening eyes and the torn book in his hands.

“I have this one at home! You can have mine, I never liked it anyway,” he rambled as he began to wave the book around, growing more uncomfortable as he saw the small tears roll down your red and puffy cheeks. “And don’t worry about them! They’re just stupid! And jealous. And, and-“ his frantic words stopped in his throat, forming into a nervous lump when you flicked your eyes up to meet his.

Despite the redness in them and the sniffling of your nose, he couldn’t help but think you looked pretty. Which only made him feel even worse, that someone could be so cruel to you.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly, wiping away the snot and tears from your face. “Thank you for stopping them.” In defeat, you grabbed the manga out of his hands and stuffed it into your backpack, not caring if you ruined it any further.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, and you began to walk home like usual.

The walk home was mostly quiet, Satoru not daring to say anything, not knowing what to say. He wanted to help, make you feel better, but all the things that popped into his head just felt like it wouldn't be enough. So when you reached your house, you simply waved him goodbye before disappearing.

Once he entered his own home, his parents were on his neck instantly. They were furious, because they’d received an angry phone call from a distraught parent explaining how Satoru had purposely attacked their son.

Satoru had tried to explain the situation and defend himself, saying he couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. Somehow, the heroic gesture didn’t seem to outweigh when the kid had walked home with a bloody knee, bawling his eyes out.

“You never resort to violence, Satoru,” his father had yelled at him, before they told him he was grounded for a week. Satoru was speechless. He had never been grounded before, and he didn’t understand why he was being punished when he firmly believed he had done the right thing.

Unable to defend himself further, he stomped to his room and started his homework like he had been told to do. He didn’t get much work done though, as he mostly moped the entire evening, neurotically tapping his pen against the textbook.

You, much like Satoru, spent the entire evening in your bedroom. For the first two hours, you just laid in your bed, sulking. Eventually you wanted to talk to someone — not just someone, Satoru. You made your way to the windowsill, waiting for him to show. And you waited. And waited. And waited some more.

It wasn’t until you were about to head to bed you saw his silhouette cracking open the window slowly. Jumping up, you opened your window immediately. “I’ve been waiting all afternoon!”

“Shhh, you gotta keep it down,” he said softly, barely able to hear him. “I’m not allowed to talk to you right now.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?” Leaning forward in the window frame, resting your head on your forearms.

“I’m grounded,” he shrugged, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one came to check in on him.

“For what?”

“Because I shoved him. He ran like a crybaby, making it seem worse than it was.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, so incredibly frustrated by the outcome.

“Really? I can explain what happened to your parents-“ he waved his hands out the window to stop you.

“I tried. They were quite upset. But it’s no big deal. It’s just a week.”

“So, I won’t be able to see you for a week?” You complained, to which he only looked at you with big eyes. It hadn’t really hit him that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you while he was grounded, which only made this terrible situation even worse.

Pursing his lips in thought, he opened his mouth again to speak. “Guess we’ll just have to be sneaky with window meetings at night,” he laughed, making you laugh along as well.

“I guess so.”

“I gotta go to bed before mom and dad finds me talking to you,” he sighed. “So, guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Before he managed to shut his window, you called his name again.

“Hey, Satoru?” Looking back at you with big eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you for today. It really meant a lot!”

Looking at your glowing gratitude, he did not regret his actions for a single second. He even knew, should the opportunity arise, he would not hesitate to defend you again. He’d risk all the punishment in the world if it meant having you looking at him like that again.

“Good night, ‘Toru,” you smiled sweetly, his heart doing a small flip at the sound of his new nickname.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were fifteen years old when Satoru finally grew passed you.

And once he passed you, it seemed like he never stopped. It wasn’t just you he passed, it was all his peers as well. And as he grew, so did his ego to match it. Of course, this also resulted in him endlessly teasing you.

“Imagine you used to be taller than me,” he laughed and placed his hand on top of your head.

“Yeah, and you’re the only one who cares,” you sighed, swiftly removing his hand from your head.

This all happened about the time you started high school, something Satoru had looked forward to since he himself first started high school. It finally gave you a chance to hang out during school hours, as you’d mostly been restricted to your classrooms in lower grades. He was also excited to introduce you to the small life he had there, which previously had been separated from you.

There was no doubt that Satoru Gojo, along with his small crew, were insanely popular. They basically ruled the school and they all welcomed you with open arms.

So, by association, you too became popular.

You fitted into his group perfectly, getting along with both Shoko and Suguru pretty much right of the bat. So he shouldn’t really have been complaining — except for the unforeseen circumstances that came with other people finally noticing you.

Ever since you were young, you hadn’t made a huge number of yourself, remaining somewhat anonymous, happy doing your only thing. Satoru had basically been your only friend. He knew he could never mention it to anyone, but he really enjoyed having you all to himself.

So when he noticed all the lingering looks you received just walking down the hall, some unfamiliar anger began to take shape in him.

Pretty much from your first day, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates. Who’s your friend? Is she single? Why aren’t you dating her? Will you introduce me? It got old real fast, and Satoru only found himself growing more and more frustrated by it, coming up with silly excuses to lead them in the opposite direction.

“Yeah, no, she’s- uhm, she’s single but her dad promised her a car if she doesn’t date ‘til she’s eighteen.”

They all gave him the same weird look. “If you’re seeing her, just say so.”

“No! We’re just friends!” He always rushed to defend himself, which always earned him a roll of their eyes before they shrugged off his weird behaviour. Lucky for him, his reputation saved him from anyone pushing it any further.

Despite his best efforts to keep guys at bay, there were still a few headstrong individuals who didn’t care about Satoru’s lame excuses or status, they still tried to pursue you. So to fend them off, he had other ways to make you seem unapproachable; excessive physical touch.

You never thought twice about it, as he had never been a stranger to physical touch. It wasn’t unusual for him to throw his arm over your shoulders when walking, or fidget with your fingers when he needed something to stimulate his agitation. You’d gotten so used to it over the years, that you’d simply grown accustomed to it.

After a while, most of the guys in school seemed to get the message that you were off limits. The hassle of his consistent protection for you combined with his position in the school, it just wasn’t worth it — that was ignoring some of the most persistent seniors, but he only found their attempts amusing as you so obviously found them disgusting.

Nonetheless, with time he could deem himself satisfied with the lack of male attention you received.

“So you’re joining us this weekend right?” Suguru, one of Satoru’s close friends, asked during lunch. You only narrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. What you didn’t notice, was Satoru sitting beside you, furiously trying to stop Suguru from explaining further, glaring at him and waving his hands like a maniac.

“What’s this weekend?”

“Satoru didn’t tell you about the party?” A taunting smirk danced on his lips as he completely ignored Satoru’s disappointed glare. When you turned to question him, he immediately wiped off his disappointment and flashed you a shy smile.

“Party?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really planning on going so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to regain his ‘cool’ act.

“That’s not what you told us yesterday,” Shoko scoffed, a smirk matching Suguru’s plastered on her face.

It was in moments like these, you became incredibly aware of the age difference between the two of you. Sure, it was only two years, which you’d never thought much of — until you started high school. His interests and desires skewed in a more mature direction, which you weren’t necessarily ready for. It had become a lot more usual for him to go out with his friends during weekends. Even though he usually returned home early and met you at the window, it still sucked.

Did you want to go to the party? No, not really. But if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified of Satoru slipping away from you if you weren’t able to keep up with him. Besides, you only felt guilt at the thought that he might have changed his mind about going because of you. So what harm could it do to attend, even if it was for just an hour?

“I mean, if you want to go,” you trailed off, wanting so much to seem natural about it all. “I don’t wanna stop you.” With a small shrug, you were almost certain to managed to seem casual.

“So that’s a yes?” Shoko cheered quietly from the opposite side of the table.

“I guess so,” a small chuckle leaving your lips.

Satoru, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about you joining them as his friends. Nervously bouncing his leg under the table, he began to imagine all the things that could happen. He tried to tell himself the main reason he was so upset about the whole thing was that he was concerned something bad might happen, but in reality, he hated the idea of an arena for random dudes to hang over you all night.

You interrupted his spiralling when you suddenly raised from the table. “I have to run by the library before class,” you sighed before you rushed off, Satoru’s eyes never leaving you until you’d left the cafeteria.

“What is your deal?” Shoko laughed, drawing his attention back to the table. “Since when do you turn down a party, even if you leave after an hour?”

“I don’t know, just don’t think it’ll be her scene, that’s all,” he excused himself, picking at his food, suddenly not having an appetite anymore.

“I know you two, like, grew up together or whatever, and you have this strange need to protect her, but she’s able to take care of herself. You’ve seen how she talks to Fushiguro,” she laughed again.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, avoiding making eye contact with his friends.

“You remember what it was like to be a freshman. Things like these are exciting,” Suguru shot in. Satoru simply shrugged at his comment. “Look, we’ll all keep an eye on her. And you don’t drink anyways, so you’ll be more than sober enough to make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Satoru mumbled and stood up from his seat, still not looking at them. “I’ll see you guys later.”

And before you knew it, the weekend came rolling in and you found yourself clutching onto Satoru’s arm for dear life, scared you’d lose him in the crowd.

“We can leave if you want to,” he leaned down to say nearly the second you’d entered the house.

“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just… find Shoko and Suguru.”

It was a lot to take in. People singing and dancing, chugging drink after drink. But your nerves calmed down when you felt Satoru’s strong hands squeeze yours in reassurance. And once you found the others, your body just felt a lot more at ease. It didn’t take long for you to actually enjoy yourself, even though you decided to stay away from the alcohol, at least for this time.

What wasn’t as enjoyable, was all the female attention Satoru received throughout the evening. It was no secret he was a popular guy, girls lining up to talk to him. But when it came to the girls at school, they mostly just gawked and giggled while he innocently entertained their interests. No, these girls were different. They had clear intentions of taking it further, giving him looks you did not appreciate.

And it bothered you. Oh lord, how it bothered you.

Sitting so close to you, his leg pressed up against yours, you sadly got a front row view of when the girls leaned over and batted their long eyelashes at him, flashing him seductive smiles. You were beyond uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but scene taking place mere inches from you.

You had no reason to be upset — you were only friends and you’d only ever been friends. Never had the idea of anything else crossed your mind, but you hadn’t ever witnessed ladies glue themselves to him like this before.

“Hey, you okay?” Satoru interrupted your thoughts, turning over to see he was focused on you, the girl at his side quirking an eyebrow.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, a small smile drawing at your lips. He scanned your face, taking a deep sigh in thought, reading you so clearly.

Out of nowhere, Satoru jumped up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. He wore that award winning smile of his as he opened his mouth, “come on.”

A smile grew on your face to match his as you eagerly let him pull you off the couch before he playfully threw his arm over your shoulder, leading you out the living room. As you walked, you swore you could hear the girl he talked to earlier scoff.

“How does ice cream sound to you?” Looking down at you as he shielded out the tight crowd as he lead you out the door.

And as the two of you left the party, there was laughter on your lips and a genuine, special joy in your eyes you seemed to have reserved only for each other. Shoko and Suguru, however, kept a confused eye on you as you exited the house.

“I’ll never understand them,” Shoko shook her head, before turning to look at her friend who seemed just as frustrated by you and Satoru as she was. “I mean, they’re clearly into each other, right?”

Suguru exhaled sharply through his nose in what sounded like it was supposed to be a chuckle. “It’s weird if they aren’t.”

“When he talked about her before, I just figured they were best friends, like he said. But after meeting her and seeing them together-“

“No, I agree,” Suguru laughed before she was able to finish her sentence. “I’ve never seen ‘best friends’ act like they do.” Shoko nudged his side with her elbow to bring his attention to the girl Satoru had flirted with seconds before he had just stranded her alone on the couch, to see she was pouting, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door like she was waiting for him to return.

“Neither has she,” she laughed.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were seventeen years old the first time you had your heart broken. Really broken.

Standing outside your boyfriend — no scratch that. Standing outside what was now your ex boyfriend’s front door, you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened, silent tears falling slowly down your face.

It had come out of no where. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, and now he had suddenly come to the conclusion that you were no longer a good match? It made no sense.

Shaking your head as you took a deep breath, you knew there was only one person who might be able to help you feel a little better. Not to mention, he was probably the only person in the universe right now you could stand to see at all.

The fifteen minute walk from where you’d just had your heart stomped on to your neighbourhood had never felt longer. The silence that filled the dark and abandoned streets was numbing, leaving more room for the self deprecating thoughts to fill your mind. What had you done wrong? What could you have done differently? Was there someone else, someone prettier and funnier than you? Had you not been dedicated enough?

Despite the insane sadness that filled you, you thought if it were to happen, this weekend was probably the best timing, seeing as you wouldn’t have been able seek comfort had it happened any other time. Having taken a gap year after high school to earn money, Satoru worked a lot but he had for once gotten a weekend off. And his parents were out of town on some conference, meaning there was no risk of either of them opening the door to greet your grief struck face.

Soon enough you found yourself in front of the familiar front door, a tiny lump forming in your throat as you placed three soft knocks on the door. Before you knew it, Satoru stood right in front of you, his initial reaction of joy melting away once he processed you were upset.

“What happened?” His voice was so soft, eyes filled with worry.

“Can I come in?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah! Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you pass him and enter his home. “You want anything? Is this like an ice cream kinda situation, because I think we have some cookie dough flavoured in the freezer.”

A broken chuckle slipped out of you, followed by a sob. “No, thank you, I’m fine. Just needed to see you,” you sniffled furiously.

“Yeah, sure.” Without saying another word, you simply helped yourself up the stairs and to his bedroom. His eyes never left you as you carefully sat down on his bed and he sat down on his desk chair.

Uncomfortable wasn’t necessarily the word he’d use for seeing you like this, because it had happened before — just not very often. You’d always been a quiet charmer, if there was a way to describe it. Out of the two of you, he’d always been the loud and outgoing one, but he definitely saw you as the one who spread the most joy to those around you, a natural sense of cheerfulness radiating from you. Not to mention you were usually the one who stood for the comforting and advice, meaning he was at a loss on what to do.

“What happened?” He asked carefully.

“We broke up.” The words left you so quickly and easily, Satoru had to blink a few times to realise what you’d just said. “Or he broke up with me is probably more correct.” You avoided his gaze, staring directly at your hands tucked between your thighs, the tears leaving dark circles on your jeans.

“I thought things were going well.”

“So did I.” You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, still sniffling like crazy. “I know you never liked him and didn’t get along with him but I really liked him, y'know?”

A pang of guilt came crashing in over Satoru. He hadn’t been subtle about his dislike for your boyfriend, and it started before the two of you even became official. He did not miss the opportunity to throw a snide comment about him when you brought him up or constantly quarrel on the few occasions they were in the same room. But he couldn’t help it.

Satoru had been so focused on all the guys lining up for you in school, he hadn’t even thought of the boys that might find their way to you from elsewhere.

He still remembered the evening you came home from work at the coffeehouse, such a sweet smile on your face and a blush across your nose when he’d met you at the window that night. So giddy over this cute boy who’d chatted you up and ended up getting your number. Had Satoru known then he’d break your heart this badly, he’d tried harder to shut it down.

“I know I gave him a hard time, but I know you liked him,” he tried to comfort you. “And I’m certain he cared for you too. It’s hard not to.”

“Urgh, I’m such an idiot,” you cracked, hiding your face in your hands as the sobs just tumbled out in one steady stream.

“Hey,” Satoru said, rushing out of his chair to crouch in front of you. Tenderly he grabbed ahold of your wrists to remove them from your face, carefully trying to dry the tears away. “You’re not an idiot, okay?”

A small scoff made its way out of you between the sobs. “I’m not even sure he ever cared about me.”

When your name rolled off his tongue with more compassion than you’d ever heard from him before, your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Listen to me! I am certain he did. I know what you dedicated to that relationship, and he’d be crazy not to care for you. Not just crazy, but a damn magician as well because it’s genuinely impossible. Believe me, I know.” A small smile grew on his lips when he heard he was able to draw a small chuckle out of you. “You’re not an idiot. You just have a big heart. And he’s the idiot if he thinks he should let it go.”

He dried what seemed to be one of your last tears with his thumb, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His caring gaze traveled your face, taking in every detail he could when the memory from when you were kids popped into his mind. Just like that time, looking at you all red and puffy, he again found himself thinking you were pretty. Not just pretty — beautiful.

“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you whispered.

“Any time.”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Scandalous,” he said dramatically, earning him another shy smile from you. Both of you knew you didn’t have to ask, having slept over hundreds of time throughout the years.

“Who knew you were so good at this,” you smiled weakly as he stood up to go get the extra duvet he had in his closet, which was basically just an extra duvet for you.

“Pfft, I am Satoru Gojo after all. Is there anything I can’t do?” He flashed you a proud grin, instantly rolling your eyes at him.

“You’re not the greatest cook last time I che-“ before you were able to finish your sentence, a pillow came crashing into your face. A lighthearted giggle escaped you, and again Satoru felt his heart flutter a little, so pleased he’d managed to brighten your terrible evening a little bit.

“Watch it, sweetheart, or I’ll have you sleep on the floor.”

“You would never,” you smiled before grabbing one of Satoru’s t-shirts, like you always did, and headed for the bathroom.

Once you met your reflection in the mirror, your eyes grew as all the signs of tonight’s sorrow was incredibly visible on your face. And to think Satoru had seen you like this, knowing he’d tease you endlessly about it once things settled down and you could laugh about it all.

Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, mascara lines down your puffy cheeks. Still sniffling, you cleaned your face, dabbing a hot cloth in hopes you might redeem some of your dignity as you washed away your heartbreak. Looking in the mirror, a sigh left you knowing that this was probably as good as it was going to get. At least you didn’t have makeup smeared all over your face anymore.

Shuffling back into his bedroom, wearing his t-shirt nonetheless, a small lump formed in his throat at the sight of you as he had to fight the urge to let his eyes indulge in your entire figure. What was going on? A million times had you spent the night, and a million times had you gone to bed wearing his shirt, yet tonight felt different. He felt there was something in the air that had shifted, but it went unsaid. So without another word, he simply made his way passed you and to the bathroom. You, on the other hand, paid no attention to his odd behaviour, simply laying down on the bed on the side closest to the wall, your side.

Despite not picking up on his averted gaze, you too sensed there was something in the atmosphere that seemed different than usual, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what. You could easily just blame the breakup, which was definitely lingering in the air, but you knew that wasn’t quite it either. There was something in the tension that you felt were directly connected to Satoru.

When you felt his weight press down on the bed next to you, you reactively turned to look at him, surprised to see he was already laying on his side looking right back at you. Staring deeply into your eyes, you felt as if he was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t make it out.

Same went for Satoru, as he felt it deep down that there was something he needed to tell you but he had no idea what it was, only that it weighed heavier on him now that the evening had been so emotional and raw.

“‘Toru?”

“Hm?”

“What was it about him you didn’t like?” Satoru couldn’t help but smirk somewhat shamefully.

“It’s not important,” a slight chuckle slipping out of him.

“With a smile like that, you have to tell me.” Satoru readjusted his head on the pillow, ending up even closer to your face than intended but neither of you pulled away.

“Well, I like it best when I have you to myself.”

“Please,” you scoffed, tucking one of your hands under your cheek, carefully tilting forward a little. “That’s ridiculous, even for you.”

“No, I’m serious,” he gave you a sweet smile. “We’ve been so close for so long, it’s weird suddenly having to share you.”

You took a deep sigh, your heart skipping a small beat at his answer. “Well, I had to share you first.”

His eyebrows instantly pinched together into a frown, a humorous smirk on his lips. “Excuse me?”

“So you’ve forgotten when you first started high school? It was always ‘Suguru this’ and ‘Shoko that’.”

“That’s not the same,” he mocked you.

“How’s that not the same?” Offended at his disregard for your experience of him suddenly having a bigger social circle, you knew it was all in a playful manner.

“Because-” was all he managed to get out before you noticed his eyes betraying him as they quickly glanced down at your lips, before looking back into your eyes. Drawing a sharp breath, you swore you might be able to spot a strong blush heat his face, but it was too dark to tell for sure.

He exhaled a shaky breath, which you felt brush against your face making you realise just how close you were to each other.

All the hairs on your body stood up when you felt his light touch brush against your arm that was resting between you. Was this weird? You didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d touched you like this, so what was making tonight so different?

One slight movement and your noses would grace against each other. He could do it, he could just tilt his head forward and his lips would connect with yours and he was certain it would be delicious. Your eyes had captured his gaze, and he felt as if he could stare into them forever-

No, stop!

You flinched at his sudden movements when he pulled away to turn around, with his back facing you.

His heart sunk into his stomach, mentally cursing himself now that he wasn’t facing you anymore. He couldn’t believe he had actually wanted to kiss you, his best friend. It wouldn’t be right, especially not tonight when you were as vulnerable as you were. He’d be a complete asshole to take advantage of that. Not to mention how embarrassed he would have been in the morning when you weren’t trapped under the haze of heartbreak and would have realised how much of a mistake it had been.

“Good night,” he said in his usual, cheerful tone and the curse was broken.

The next morning, you’d woken up to an empty bed, much like you always did when you spent the night. What was out of the ordinary, was seeing him in the kitchen in full swing serving pancakes and ice cream calling it “the breakfast for breakups”.

You couldn’t tell if you were hurt or not by how he was acting, as if last night never happened. Was he not going to mention how close the two of you had been to locking lip? He simply went about the morning, just as happy as he always was.

And never brought it up.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were eighteen years old when you and Satoru fell apart.

Satoru had left for college, and at first you’d been so lost on what to do. For the first time since you were six, he wasn’t immediately at your side.

You remembered the day he left so clearly, clinging on around his neck, refusing to let go because you didn’t want him to get in his car and drive off, unsure when you’d see him again. When the two of you eventually managed to break the hug, you heard a not so subtle sniffle and spotted faint redness around his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re crying, ‘Toru,” you teased in between your own sniffles.

“You got me there,” he said with a sad chuckle slipping out, surprising you that he didn’t even attempt to fire back, just surrendering to his emotions. “Gonna miss you.”

“Gonna miss you too,” you whispered in response. Not much more was spoken before he drove off, like it all was just too much for either of you to talk about.

The first few days you didn’t do much else than lay in bed and wait for him to call, like he promised he would. And exactly at 8 pm, your phone lit up with his name where he told you all about how hectic his days were — and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to have daily calls anymore once the semester started for real.

“No, of course. I mean, I go back to school soon too so.”

And as the time went on, the calls got more and more rare. From every day, to three times a week, once a week, until you were lucky it happened every fourteen days.

Even though you hated it, you couldn’t blame him. Of course he was busy, he had an entirely new everyday life filled with classes and new people. And when he did make time for the phone call, you couldn’t help but feel genuine happiness when you heard how excited he was about all of it. But you knew you couldn’t keep sitting around sulking as you waited for his call. You decided you had to be okay without him.

It was your senior year after all — it was your time to shine, and you were still with the popular crowd even though Satoru wasn’t there anymore. Now you finally had the opportunity to get to know them better.

Turned out you had more in common with them than you thought, getting particularly close with the girls of the group. And it was refreshing to have girl friends, who seemed to match some of your interests in a way Satoru never managed to. Your horizons just expanded, your schedule packed nearly from morning until night. Not to mention your weekends were also busy. The parties you and Satoru usually left early or skipped all together, had become fun.

This weekend was no different. Sitting at your vanity doing your makeup for the evening when you heard your mom’s voice yell from downstairs. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Just send her up,” you yelled back. But when you turned around to face who you thought was your friend who was coming to get ready with you, your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall figure standing there instead.

“Her? Not the last time I checked,” Satoru smiled.

“Oh, my god, ‘Toru!” You squealed in excitement, running at him as you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, smiling even harder when he hugged you back just as firmly.

When he let you down, your eyes was instantly drawn to his. It’s been so long since you’d been able to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, and now you melted having them look down on you for the first time in months. Now that you were finally able to see him again, to touch him again, it hit you like a semi truck just how much you had missed him. You even found yourself getting a little emotional, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

“God, don’t wanna ruin my makeup,” you laughed.

“I was just about to say, you look great,” he said, unable to peer his eyes off you, because ‘great’ was an understatement.

“Why, thank you,” you beamed at him, a smile stretching from one ear to another.

“Going somewhere?” His eyebrows narrowed, letting his chipper composure slip for just a second but he quickly tried to shake it off.

“Yeah, there’s a party tonight. The group’s going, but I can cancel if-“

“No, of course not. I’m home all weekend.” There was a slight twinge in your heart, disappointed that he didn’t have the guts to accept your offer. There was not a single ounce of doubt that you’d drop the party for him in a heartbeat — you had after all longed for him to come home to visit since the second his car had driven out of view the day he left.

“Well, maybe you could come along?” You suggested, grabbing his hands in yours.

“I just think I’m going to stay home with my parents tonight,” he swallowed, giving you a weak smile.

He knew he should have just taken you up in the offer to ditch the party, but he didn’t have the heart to, especially when you were all dolled up for the evening already.

All he’d looked forward to was come home and hang with you and catch up all night, never falling asleep because he had missed your voice so much. But he knew that eventually, the guilt would eat him up, hogging you for the night when you were supposed to be somewhere else.

Now he had to sit at home, alone and bored, because he had lied when he told you about his parents, seeing as they weren’t back in town until tomorrow. He knew he would spend the night miserable, but it would beat having to tag along at your heels to a party he didn’t want to attend in the first place and witness how close you’d gotten to all your new friends while he’d been away, still preferring to have you to himself.

“Will you at least stay until I leave? And then I’m all yours for the whole of tomorrow?” For the time being, he managed to let his blues slip away, especially when you gawked at him with a sparkle in your eyes and an infectious smile.

“Of course.” His eyes followed your cheerful walk back to your vanity as he sat down on your bed. Once seated, your conversation flowed like normal, as if no time had passed at all since the last time you saw each other. He told you about classes and how much more difficult it was now, especially seeing as he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying.

And he knew he should be excited when you told him everything about your new life. How you’d finally taken the time to get the know the rest of the group and how great they all were, how fun you had it with all of them with all the stuff you guys did in your spare time, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting. He felt as if he was missing everything, losing the spot he used to have with you, replaced by his old friends. He knew it was unfair to think that way, but but there was no stopping his doomed spiralling.

“Oh, and that’s probably her coming now!” You perked up when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The next second, a girl he knew used to be in his friend group stood in the doorway.

“Satoru? What a pleasant surprise,” she beamed at him, and guilt hit him when he couldn’t even remember her name.

“Yeah, just home for the weekend,” he smirked at her.

She flashed him another smile before turning to you. “You ready?”

“Just about,” you sighed. Quickly, you grabbed your purse and skipped over to Satoru. “See you tomorrow, okay?” You said cheerfully as you placed a quick peck on his cheek before running out, leaving him standing alone in your bedroom.

He stared dumbfounded at the empty space you occupied just seconds ago, still surprised by the kiss as it was something completely new. Was that something you’d picked up from the group? Did that mean you went around kissing everyone’s cheeks? His mind ran crazy with questions, all making him equally jealous.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered into the phone still ringing. It was the third time you had tried to call Satoru and he still hadn’t picked up, which was incredibly unlike him. He always picked up almost immediately, especially when you were calling.

“Hey,” you finally heard him sigh on the other end of the line.

“Thank god you answered,” you said, teeth chattering in the freezing cold. “Could you please, please, please pick me up?”

“You okay?” There was a hint of worry in his voice, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to conceal it.

“No. Or yes. Or I don’t know, but I’m cold and I need to go home!” Another sigh.

“Where are you?”

“You’re my angel,” you breathed before giving him the address.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Before you managed to say goodbye, Satoru had already hung up. You stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds in shock of his abrupt ending, but right now, you were too cold to ponder any further on his behaviour. Tightly having folded your arms around yourself and rubbing your legs together, you desperately tried to get some heat in your body.

Finally, you saw the familiar car pull up in front of you, a sigh of relief leaving your body once you were greeted by the hot air as you sat down in the passenger seat.

“You’re really a life saver,” you spoke as you leaned your head back on the headrest, waiting to meet his eyes but he never turned to look at you. His eyes were glued to the road, a tight grip on the steering wheel as he kept chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You okay, ‘Toru?”

“‘M just fine,” he answered simply, still fixated on the road.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” You snorted, which made him quickly turn his head to give you a cold glare before looking at the road again.

“How come you were standing out in the cold all alone?” When he didn’t acknowledge your question further, you just fell back into your seat again and decided not to take it any further.

“You don’t wanna know,” you sighed, staring out the window.

“No, I’m curious.” If his tone told you anything, it was that he was pissed. You just hoped it wasn’t directed at you.

“I was kicked out.”

“What, too drunk to be in the house?” His comment caught you off guard at it seemed nothing but spiteful. You flipped your head to look at him again, only to see he was still unwilling to look at you.

“Do I seem too drunk to you?” He only shrugged, knowing the answer was ‘no’. “If you wanna know, I-“ you stopped yourself from finishing, too embarrassed to utter the words.

“Don’t get shy on my behalf.”

“I was about to sleep with someone, but after we undressed, something came over him and he just threw me out,” you complained, crossing your arms and staring at the road like he had earlier.

“You what?” Satoru exclaimed, and now he finally decided to shoot you a glare. “Who?”

“Does it matter?” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze which you knew was just purely judgemental. It seemed he was more upset about the part where you were going to sleep with someone than the fact that you were literally thrown out, which only ended up fuelling your own anger.

“Who was it?” He repeated sternly.

“Just some guy I met there, I don’t know,” you shrugged, and instantly a loud huff left Satoru.

“Wow,” he said in utter disbelief. “So this is who you are now.” Finally turning to look at him again, your face hot with anger, you saw his eyebrows were raised in frustration and his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never knew you to be someone who just spread your legs for anyone.” You gaped at him, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Stop the car,” you managed to force out somewhat calmly through gritted teeth.

“I’m not stopping-“

“Stop the fucking car, Satoru,” you practically yelled at him, startled when he suddenly slammed the breaks. Once the car had stopped, you didn’t hesitate to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the car, hearing him call your name before you slammed the door shut after you.

With your arms wrapped around yourself, you started to walk down the street in the direction of your house, knowing you were still pretty far from home. But you knew you were too furious to get back in the car with Satoru.

“Come on, get back in the car,” Satoru’s voice complained down the street.

“So you can slut shame me some more? Think I’ll pass,” you shouted back. It took only a second until you heard the car engine shut off before hurried footsteps against the wet pavement made its way over to you, Satoru positioning himself right in front of you.

“Fine, sorry, please get back in the car,” he said disingenuous, scowling down at you with his hands in his pockets.

“You expect me to accept that apology?” You scowled right back at him.

“Stop acting like a brat and just-“

“Brat? Really?” You interrupted him, raising your eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly with a deep sigh. “Thought so.” Keeping your mean glare at him, you tried to walk past him, but he surprised you by taking a strong grip of your arm.

“So is this like a weekly occurrence now?” You forcefully pulled out of his grip.

You simply shrugged while trying to find the right answer, wanting to keep your own anger in check even though you felt you were close to boiling over. “I mean, there’s something happening every weekend but that doesn’t mean I always participate.” He only scoffed, turning away from you and looking around the street. “What?”

“So now you’re just this crazy party girl that sleeps with anyone that’s available?”

You truly couldn’t believe it was Satoru saying these words to you, your best friend in the entire world. The person you’d known most your life, who knew your every deepest, darkest secret and had never judged you in the slightest — suddenly throwing mean words right to your face like you were just some nobody.

“Like you’re one to talk! You flirt with any girl that has a pulse, and not just in school. Remember, you went to parties too and enjoyed wallowing in the attention of anyone who’d give it to you!”

“I never liked going to parties. I still don’t,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Glad to see some things hasn’t changed, unlike the fact that you’ve turned into an asshole,” you spat at him, trying to walk away again, but he yanked a hold of you once more.

“Well, I’m not the only one who has changed,” he said in a low voice, giving you a stern look through his eyebrows.

A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, the tears quickly starting to well up in your eyes. Was this really the same person you’d physically been unable to let go off five months ago? The one person you believed could never intentionally hurt you the way he was now?

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Flickering between his eyes, you knew you’d caught on. “Did you really think I was going to sit around and wait for you?”

“I certainly didn’t expect you to go and replace me the first chance you got.”

“Replace you?!” You exclaimed before the entire sentence had left his lips.

“Yes, replace me!” He fired back, his tone more angry than he wanted it to be, because sadness was all he truly felt.

“So you haven’t gotten any new friends at university?”

“That’s different-“

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned in frustration, your hands rubbing your face. “I am so tired of you saying it is different for you! You’ve done that for years.”

Satoru had his hands deeply tucked in his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears with tension. He was already filled with guilt for talking to you this way, something he’d never done before. Then again, he couldn’t remember having this many negative feelings regarding you running wild in him.

“It’s baffling to me that you’re actually saying all these things to me, like it isn’t you that keep postponing our phone calls.” You said, your tone transformed from anger into the sorrow that had taken residence in you instead.

He breathed your name, almost like he seemed disappointed in a way. “Classes are riding my ass.”

“You don’t think I know that?” You fired back immediately, your tone remaining calm as you continued to hold back the tears. “But truth is, it has caused you to not make time for the phone calls.”

“You can’t expect me to be able to make time-“

What seemed to be the mix of a sob and a scoff parted your lips, cutting him off. It was like talking to a brick wall, because it felt like nothing you said reached him.

Had he always been like this? Too wrapped up with his own idea of being right that he took no regards for your opinion? If so, how had the two of you managed to go all those years without you properly realising it?

“If you haven’t been paying attention, it’s not me that’s had too many expectations, but you!”

His head fell back, retrieving his hands from his pockets to fold them over his chest. As his entire posture turned loose, you couldn’t bare to look at him when the first tear fell. He just seemed to be so sick of this conversation — sick of you — an idea that made you want to throw up on the spot.

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said in a low voice, as if he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to back down. He’d already been so cruel, a part of him feeling like he had already gone too far to double down now.

“I’m being unreasonable?!” You snapped, walking right up to him, now close enough to feel the heat radiate off him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me?”

Never in a million years could you have predicted your favourite person in the universe to speak to you this way, biting your head off for simply living your life. But it went deeper than being upset about you going to some random party. It seemed like he truly disliked the person you were right now, and nothing had ever hurt you as much.

“For the record, I did wait. So many nights I just sat in my room, staring at the damn phone, waiting for you to call.” You were sobbing now, all restraints of your tears out the window. “But I think you’re not half as busy with your studies as you claim to be, but very busy making new friends, which is why it’s nothing but cruel of you to go at me like this!”

“You always do that!” He snapped, causing your sobs to halt for a second, eyebrows quirking up in surprise. “You always assume these things about me, paint me out to be this specific person without having all the facts.”

“I know you better than I know myself, for fucks sake! You hate to work, avoid it for all that it’s worth, and now you’re trying to tell me you work so hard?” Silence. “And you’ve always loved attention. You feed on it, and every single living person on this planet can’t help but just give it to you! I’m willing to bet my last dime you’re surrounded with all sorts of people just fighting for your time!”

Without stuttering, you fired shot after shot, feeling bad even though every last word of it was true.

The reality of the fight washed over you, knowing you’d never fought like this before. A friendship spanning twelve years was doomed to have some disagreements along the way. And with both you and Satoru having such strong personalities, there had been quite a few. But never had either of you ever turned mean, like right now, no matter how serious the argument had been.

“Despite what you might think, I’m not one of your silly school girls who just follow you around to stroke your ego. I’m my own person, always have been. And I’m sorry you’re pissy about the fact that I’m doing fine without you here and I’m sorry that the image you had of me is finally shattering.”

You felt you’d gotten what you had on your mind off your chest, and all that fell out of you now were uncontrollable sobs. Not only were you absolutely devastated, but you were scared. The person that stood before you didn’t feel like someone you knew, meaning you had no idea what might come out of his mouth next.

“Think I see you clearer than ever.”

Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you tried to choke back your sobs, not feeling he was worthy of hearing the affect he had on you right now. You slowly began to nod your head, looking about for a few seconds before you simply began to walk away without saying another word. And this time you didn’t feel his hand grab your arm.

The second your head had hit the pillow after you’d gotten home, you erupted into loud, unruly sobs, that even managed to wake your parents. They stormed into your room, beyond scared something was terribly wrong, and your mom managed to pull your head into her lap, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to calm down so you’d be able to tell them what had happened, but to no prevail. While she desperately tried to hum you to peace, your dad stood watching in anguish as he had no clue what to do in order to help.

Eventually, the sobs wore you out to the point where you fell asleep in her lap.

Waking up the next morning, you’d felt like it had all been just a horrible nightmare, and in just a few minutes, Satoru would stand at your door, so excited to just do absolutely nothing with you like you had planned.

But you sat in your bed and stared at the door, waiting for him to show up but he never did. When you became restless, you paced around the room, daring to glance out the window in hopes you’d spot him sitting by his windowsill. But here too, you were left disappointed. No Satoru shaped silhouette made himself known, and at some point during the day, he had shut the blinds without you noticing.

Two days later, your mom came into your room and asked why Satoru had left to go back to university already when you guys hadn’t hung out yet.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty years old when you started university.

After a therapeutic gap year of working and travelling, you were finally ready to go back to school, excited to see what the life of a university student was all about.

So far it all seemed to go as smoothly as one could hope for — moving in and setting up in your small dormitory, putting in a lot of effort to make it a space where you could feel at home. Signing up for classes and getting all the books you needed was easier than expected, some kindhearted strangers more than willing to help you get it all right. And lastly, finding your way around campus wasn’t nearly the issue you thought it would be. You easily manoeuvred your way around the grounds, quickly coming across spots you could picture yourself just hanging out.

You were more than prepared by the time the first class rolled around, entering the huge auditorium, nervously walking down the stairs and sitting down in an available seat in one of the rows closer to the front.

Suddenly it began to dawn on you that you were actually in university, working your way to a future career like you’d always talked about. All your hard work in school, your academic achievements, finally paying off, letting you be in environment of equally dedicated individuals.

However, even though your peers seemed to be on the same level as you academically, you got the impression they had excelled passed you socially already. As you let your eyes roam the crowd, you noticed how people had already made friends and even formed groups, greeting each other with warm smiles as they sat down together.

You didn’t have the chance to brood about it for too long, as a roaring voice spoke up from the front of the classroom, drawing everyone’s attention to him, the chatter quickly quieting down. The assertive figure introduced himself before heading straight into the plans for the semester, asking if anyone had any questions. While a few students raised their voice, you just desperately wrote down everything being said, just in case it might be useful somewhere down the line.

“I look forward to teach you this introductory class in education. I’m sure you’ll make great teachers one day,” he smiled. “Before we get started, there’s someone I’d like to introduce. I have the privilege of being assigned a TA this semester — come on up.”

Everyone’s eyes followed the professors gesture towards the person who’d just gotten up from his chair by the exit. All the air was immediately sucked out of your lungs when your eyes landed on the one person you hadn’t expected to see.

“Good morning everyone,” he said in his characteristically suave voice, hearing the girls in the auditorium instantly begin to whisper amongst them at the sight of him. “I’m Satoru Gojo, I’ll be the professors teacher assistant this semester. Any questions you might-“

The words instantly died in his throat when his gaze landed on you, tensed up in your seat. He could almost see you shiver under his intense glare.

Nearly two years had passed since the last time he saw you, and not a day had gone by where he hadn’t cursed himself for how he treated you that night. He regretted it all, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to face you and apologise, even though you more than deserved it.

Eventually, the days just passed him by and it felt like an injustice for him to just jump into your life again so he decided not to, which resulted in the most miserable two years of his life.

You wanted to look away, but the shock of seeing him again had taken over your body, holding your attention hostage under his drilling blue eyes.

He’d let his hair grow a little longer, which suited him, even though he didn’t need it to improve his looks. It also seemed to have bulked up a little. Not much, just enough for you to notice as his navy, button up shirt hugged his arms in a way his clothes never had before.

“Mr. Gojo?” The professor’s voice broke his stare, bringing him back to real world and acknowledging all the faces staring at him.

“Yeah, sorry-“ he cleared his throat. “Any questions you might have, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he stuttered over his sentence, shooting you quick glance even though he tried to keep his attention on the crowd.

With a shy smile, he made his way back to his seat, his eyes once again finding you as he was seated. You shrunk in your seat, your entire body on fire from having his eyes observe you for the first time in so long, sure you’re heart might actually stop from the stress.

Throughout the entire lecture, you both kept stealing glances from one another, an unspoken sensation filling the air between you, like you both could feel how badly you’d missed and craved the other the period you’d been separated.

His eyes carried the same weight they always did when looking at you, uncomfortably restless in your seat, fidgeting with the paper of your notebook and trying to keep the tapping of your foot to a minimum. When your eyes weren’t automatically drawn to Satoru, you peeked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard, begging for time to pass so you could storm out of the classroom and finally be able to breath properly again.

You were sure the seconds lasted longer now than normal, but the lecture finally ended and you instantly began to gather your things, shoving them in your bag as quickly as possible. Daring to shoot Satoru another look, you were glad to see he’d been surrounded by students (mostly girls), hindering him from making his way to you — or so you thought.

“I have a meeting to get to,” Satoru lied, looking at you packing up your stuff before rushing up the stairs towards the auditorium exit. “But here’s my email. Just… send whatever questions you might have and I’ll answer as soon as I have the time.” It didn’t seem like anyone picked up on the fact that he was lying through his teeth, but they all wore a disappointed expression when he began to push his way through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs to catch up with you.

You stopped dead in your tracks, even though you wanted to just keep moving, when you heard that silky smooth voice speak your name. You reluctantly turned around to face him, still only managing to let out shallow breaths.

“I- Uhm.” Now that he finally had your full attention, his mind ran blank and his mouth dry, in awe at your familiar eyes staring up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you tried to reply, but barely a sound could be heard. His eyes shot to your feet, as you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, clearly not at ease seeing him again.

“You look- I mean I didn’t know you wanted to become a teacher,” he stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck.

“Me neither,” it slipped out of you, instantly pinching your eyes shut when you reflected on what had left your lips. “What I mean is I only decided recently.”

He groaned softly, feeling like nothing he wanted to say would be enough. “You finding university alright?”

It hurt. Holy hell, how it hurt, not to have the conversation flow as natural. Every atom in your body tried to convince you to just lean into what you were used to, resurrect the friendship just like that.

You nodded frantically at his question. “Yeah, much to see.”

Clearing his throat, he gathered up the courage to ask what had roamed his mind since he spotted you at the start of the lecture. “If you’re ever available, I’d love for us to grab a coffee or something,” he said it so quickly you were barely able to decode what he even suggested, but once it registered, you drew another sharp breath.

“Sure.”

“Really?” Narrowing his eyebrows at you, he hadn’t expected you to accept so willingly. He hadn’t really expected you to accept at all, if he was honest.

You didn’t know if you regretted accepting his invitation so quickly, but if there was a chance he’d apologise, you wanted to hear it simply because you deserved it. Or maybe that was the excuse you told yourself because you so desperately wanted to hang out with him.

“You haven’t changed your number, right?” You shook your head. “I’ll just text you.” The faintest smile grew on your lips as you simply nodded, a light blush spreading across Satoru’s face at the delightful sight.

“See you around, ‘Toru,” you said out if habit, quickly turning around and walking away so he wouldn’t be able to see that you too were blushing, regretting the use of his old nickname.

It didn’t even take two hours before your phone dinged with a text from him, where he suggested a time and place.

toru <3: how about next friday after the lecture? there’s this great coffeehouse five minutes from campus

you: sounds good :)

It seemed Friday couldn’t come quick enough, your anxiousness building up every lecture you had together. Despite feeling like the worst of the shock had passed as you simply flashed each other a friendly smile and a small wave when you saw each other, your mind would never get peace until everything was out in the open.

And now you finally sat opposite him, a strong grip on your mug to put your nerves somewhere. Satoru was scared you might shatter it, your knuckles turning white by how hard you were clutching at it.

“I’m really glad you decided to join,” he started awkwardly.

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never had the satisfaction of witnessing him awkward. It seemed like his default setting was mr. smooth talker, always able to find the right words in order to get what he wanted no matter how unlikely it seemed. But all that was out the window, staring at you with a sense of embarrassment, looking like a scared, young boy forced to face his stupid crush, waiting to get rejected after a sorry attempt at asking for a date.

“Me too.”

“You look really pretty- I mean, you look great. You’ve turned out pretty. Not that you were ugly before, you’ve never been ugly. In fact-“

His clumsy attempt at talking to you was cute, which was all it took to start chipping away at your cold exterior, the corner of your lips betraying you as it curled up in a small smirk.

“Thank you,” you said softly, his shoulders instantly relaxing.

Something about you was definitely different, but the tone in your voice made him realise it was actually you that was sitting in front of him; his best friend. There was no reason he shouldn’t be anything but comfortable around you. Especially now when he’d been offered the opportunity to maybe make amends, he couldn’t throw it away.

“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “I don’t want to give you any dumb excuses, because there aren’t any. I’m sorry and you didn’t deserve any of what I said to you that night.”

His voice had turned steady now, taking back the assertiveness you were so used to hearing. “I’m sorry too.”

He instantly snorted, much to your surprise. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He seemed to hold back a chuckle.

“Well, duh, but thought it was polite thing to say.” You were surprised by your own words, mirroring his humoured and shocked expression. Maybe he didn’t deserved to have you resort to playful banter already, but it just fell out of you so naturally. “You look great too, by the way.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he smirked smugly, while you rolled your eyes at him.

“Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,” you corrected him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“Okay, nerd.”

Your lips pursed together, unable to fight it anymore, a sweet smile hiding under the annoyed facade — and he noticed, his heart doing a full flip at finally being able to see it in person again. He’d only been able to dream of it in the time apart, and a hope began to spring in him that finally he might get you back in his life.

And this was just the first coffee of many. It started as a weekly thing, in the beginning consisting of airing it all out in order to establish the trust again. But it didn’t take long until you both fell into an old and familiar pattern.

It started with tagging along to lectures. Next thing, Satoru suggested you ordered dinner while studying, however not much studying was done. The evening was spent sitting on the floor of your dorm, stuffing your faces with take out and reminiscing of your days back in high school, talking about all the gossip and drama that went down.

There was a mutual understanding that you both had to make up for the lost time, both sad you’d wasted so long not being in contact when it could all have been resolved if you’d both been mature enough to just reach out.

But despite both of you resorting to old habits, quickly acting as close as you were back then, things had escalated.

Before, he’d simply thrown his arm lazily across your shoulders without a single thought. Now his muscular arm held a more possessive grip on you like he was preventing another outcome of you slipping away. And unlike before, you matched his energy, letting your arm slide along his back and grab tightly ahold of his waist to secure him close to you.

When he subconsciously began to fidget with your fingers, you eventually let your fingers glide between his to interlock your hands, where both of you just let them rest, his thumb softly stroking you.

And when he was gentleman enough to open the door for you every chance he got, he gawked at you with pure affection in his eyes and he sneakily let his hand rest on the small of your back as you passed him.

Neither of you ever mentioned it. You gladly just let it happen, both leaning into it, getting more and more touchy as time went on. And it didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students, ugly glares in your direction as they wondered how you’d gotten so close to the incredibly hot TA in the matter of weeks, also considering how many people he had throwing themselves at his feet.

You couldn’t care less however. You were simply living in the joyful bliss of having your best friend back.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His jaw dropped to the floor when you stepped out of the bathroom, not even noticing his lingering gaze on you, simply walking over to your purse to get your lipgloss.

The sinfully short dress hugged your curves just right, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes darted to the knee high, leather boots that elongated your enticing legs before letting his eyes indulge up your body, tracing your exposed collarbones-

“Satoru?” Drawing his attention to your face, which genuinely left him stunned having enhanced your already beautiful features, hair tucked up messily by a claw clip. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

More like an angel, he thought, trying to snap out of the haze you had him under as he slowly began to approach you.

What was happening?

There was a hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before, at least not looking at you. It was like he moved in slow motion, your heart quickly picking up the pace the closer he got. “Satoru?” You asked again, but a tremble in your voice exposed your nerves. “What are you doing?”

A confident, on brand smirk made its way onto his face, revealing his infamous dimples as he let his hand slip to your cheek, sliding it to the side of your throat and letting his thumb draw graciously soft lines along your jaw.

“I should have kissed you that night.”

His quiet confession filled the room, having your sole focus be his eyes, those beautiful, heavenly eyes that always saw right through you. The night in question had often played in your mind, fantasising about what could have happened if either of you had decided to cross the line.

“Would you have kissed me back?” The dominance in his voice had a weird influence on you, causing your eyes to flicker away from his eyes to travel across the attractive line of his curved lips.

“Without hesitation.” His grin widened, his thumb now moving to stroke your bottom lip. Much like that god forsaken night, he leaned forward, but this time he let his nose brush against yours, his breath brushing against your lips.

“We’re skipping the party,” he whispered.

“Didn’t wanna go anyways,” you huffed before finally being the one to engage the kiss, crashing into his lips, just as soft as you’d always imagined them to be.

Hungrily tying you arms around his neck in order to help deepen the passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slide along your bottom lip as if he was asking for you to open your mouth, to which you happily obliged.

His firm hands slid down your waist before stopping at your thighs, squeezing slightly into your plush flesh. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped into his arms with ease, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he placed his hands on your ass, not an ounce of fear in you that he’d ever drop you.

Your hands found their way to his soft hair, instantly drawing out a soft moan from him, causing you to smile into the kiss.

“That’s what you like, huh?” You teased, pulling away from him order to get a look at his face.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before reconnecting your lips when you felt he began to walk in the direction of your bedroom.

Since rekindling your friendship, everything had moved at the speed of light. As it all had happened, you’d noticed the increased intimacy, both physically and mentally, but you hadn’t wanted to assume it was anything more than just a result of missing each other.

You’d experienced a new sensation of yearning for Satoru, one that had previously only passed you by in random split seconds which you’d always suppressed to the back of your mind. Never had you wanted to jeopardise your friendship for anything, especially for what you thought was just innocent lust that naturally washed over anyone that was in the close vicinity of Satoru.

But clearly you were wrong. Maybe there had always been a stronger desire to explore him in a different way that had just been buried because it seemed illegal. Not to forget the fact that it was being reciprocated, his strong hands exploring your body with an urgency you had never experienced with anyone before.

The meaningful and deep history only appeared to fuel the hunger you felt for one another, behaving as if neither of you had experienced the phenomenon of another person’s touch in a lifetime — and it was only specifically each other who could satisfy the need.

Still with a tight grip, he hesitatingly let you down, his hands sliding up your body to hoist your dress so it gathered around your lower abdomen. “This dress need to come off, baby,” he breathed into your mouth as he continued to pull it up your body.

You simply lifted your arms to let him twist the dress over your head, his eyes instantly locking to your perky tits as if they were calling his name. Before he had the chance to give into the temptation of fondling them, playing with your nipples, you tugged at the bottom of his sweater. No way you were going to stand in all your glory while his clothes served as a hindrance to your desire.

Again his alluring smirk greeted you, more than willingly pulling it over his head to reveal his chiselled torso, confirming your theory that he had gotten bulkier, because you would definitely have remembered if he looked like that before.

“Is this crazy?” You asked shakily after having removed your shoes and reaching for his belt buckle. Noticing the slight jitters hiding between your excitement, he snatched ahold of your chin to force you to look at his face.

“Not crazier than the fact that I should have done this ages ago.”

Pulling your face towards him, he had you standing on your tip toes in order to dedicate as much of yourself to the kiss as humanly possible.

Once the pants were off him, your hand found his chest, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his toned pecks, guiding him backwards to sit down on your bed. With glee you straddled him, embarrassment flushed your cheeks as a needy whimper just fell from your lips when his huge bulge ended up pressing against your clothed core, an amused eyebrow quirking up on Satoru’s face.

“Damn, calm down,” he teased, your nose scrunching up to conceal the playful smile that was taking over.

“Idiot.” Grabbing his face, you let your open mouth graze against his when one of his hands palmed your clothed pussy, pulling another moan from your lips.

Without warning, he pulled your black laced panties aside, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit. You bit your lip to choke back yet another moan. Knowing Satoru, you knew he’d forever hold it against you — how he managed to withdraw those lewd sounds from you so easily.

“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he panted, enjoying the view of your scrunched up face of pleasure. “Can’t wait to feel you around me.”

“‘Toru, I-“ you forced out when you felt him slip two lengthy digests inside you as he traced soft, little pecks along your collarbone that he had admired earlier. Hearing you barely able to utter his nickname mixed with the low squelching of your pussy, basically drenched already, was something he had only been able to imagine before. And god, was the real thing ten times better than his fantasy.

“Getting shy around me, pretty? That’s unlike you.” Again you wanted to roll your eyes at him, because he was even more cheeky when having you at his mercy than normal. But the consistent pressure on your sensitive nub along with the movement of his fingers were too much to even give that a try.

Fingertips clawing at his shoulders, slowly starting to rock your hips as you were being drawn closer and closer to the edge.

His smooth motion had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, the tingle of orgasm bubbling up inside you when he had you gasp in disappointment when you were deprived of his skilled touch.

Motherfucker.

“What-“ your eyes fluttered open in confusion before you were thrown off his lap, landing softly on your back, sinking into the mattress. Next thing, his boxers hit the floor, exposing his already rock hard dick. Eyeing the size, his cocky personality suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

Hovering over you, he swiftly tilted your head to the side to place a series of open mouthed kisses as he used his leg to spread your legs apart, setting himself up between them, feeling his tip slightly touch your entrance as it twitched.

“I need you,” it vibrated against your skin, one arm wrapping around his back in a desperate need to feel every inch of him, while the other traveled south to lace around his dick. It was your turn to draw sounds from him, a small, satisfied giggle ringing in his ear as a reaction to hearing his pathetic whimper.

“Sorry,” your giggle trailed off when he lifted his head to look down at you, the ghost of a smile on his face telling you he enjoyed the small banter during it all.

You gave him a few slow pumps, using your thumb to rub some of his precum across his tip, aligning him with the opening of your cunt as he punished you with a rough kiss on the lips.

That’s when you finally let go, your hand finding his back again to prepare yourself to be filled with his dick. He didn’t wait to slide into you with ease, gasping softly as you involuntarily clenched around his size, trying to get used to it.

“You okay?” He mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours. You only nodded before pulling him in for another kiss, reassuring him that you were alright and more than ready.

The line was officially crossed — no going back now. You could never go back to being just best friends, but maybe that was for the best, that maybe you’d always meant to be more. Every fibre of his being had for a long time ached to have you like this, spread out and desperate for him and only him.

At first he moved in a slow and sensual pace, wanting to be entirely sure you could take it. Eyeing your expression in awe, finally being able to be the one to make you grimace with pleasure.

“Wanted this for so long,” he murmured, being driven to lose all control hearing all your sweet whimpers, occasionally mumbling his name, which had him buck his hips faster and deeper, desperate to push you to climax.

Taking every inch of him over and over, stretching around him, he glanced down to get a look of the beautiful sight, his cock moving in and out, in and out, like you were made for him.

Your nails burrowed into his back before dragging down, too dazed in the bliss of Satoru’s cock stuffed in you to care about the red lines you knew you’d created, marking him as yours. Your toes curled as he kept feeding you horny affirmations and heartfelt compliments.

“Fuck fuck fuck, look at that.”

“God you’re so beautiful.”

“Taking me so good baby.”

“Fuck, should have done this ages ago. Look so pretty around me.”

“Hngh, ‘Toru,” you mewled. “I’m gonna c-cum,” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut and arching closer to him to chase your high.

“As you wish.” Something snapped in him, slamming into you at an unbearable speed, balls smacking your ass as he kept shoving into you. You tried to make out words to tell him you were about to reach your limit, but you were too fucked out to form anything coherent, just a string of cute sounds of pleasure leaving your pretty mouth. “Cum f’me.”

His simple command had you nearly scream as the sweet release washed over you, head pushing back into your pillow as he gave you the most intense orgasm you could remember. He fucked you through your high, feeling your body pressed against his until he too reached his climax, filling you with cum, a loud groan left him before his thrusts became lazy and sloppy.

He pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. You both turned to look at each other, instantly making eye contact. Whatever flashed between you caused you both to break into a calm laughter. Once it died down, your flipped to lay on your side and rested your chin on his shoulders.

“Should have known you’re quite a talker during sex, it adds up.”

“Is this complaining I hear?” He taunted, pinching his eyebrows together to challenge your statement. “Because the way you just moaned my name like a slut-“

“Okay, fine, I’ll sush,” you laughed before hiding your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Carefully he nudged his shoulder to have you look at him again, needing to take in your flushed face after it all, eyes roaming every part of it. “So what happens now?” You breathed softly as your finger began to trace weak circles on his still damp chest.

Without thinking, he tilted your head up and placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “I know I don’t wanna waste anymore time not being with you.”

“We really screwed up there, huh?” As his secure arms wrapped around you to have you as close to him as possible, his chest vibrated with a low chuckle.

“Not my fault you were out and about, throwing your phone number at your customers.”

“Oh alright, if you wanna blame previous conquests, then there’s-“ he instantly placed his large hand over your mouth to muffle the list of girl names you could remember him being with.

“Still such a brat-“ you interrupted his insult by defending yourself the only way you could, sticking out your tongue to lick all over his palm. Before you even had the chance to understand what was going on, it backfired when he instantly rubbed his hand all over your face, smearing your spit.

“Satoru,” you squealed before you both fell into a fit of laughter again.

Well into the night, you just talked and laughed. Sharing every single moment from your friendship that might have been pent of feelings for each other, realising this was how it always should have been. Neither of you had to hold back on the affection or affirmation anymore in fear of jeopardising what you already had. If anything, the relation you already shared only seemed to further ignite what would come to be.

For the first time, you fell asleep in his arms, being his.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty-seven years old when life was just perfect.

“But pretty please!” Nobara complained, hands pressed together in prayer, close to falling to her knees to beg you to do her this small favour. It earned her an offended frown from both her classmates standing on each side of her. “It’s a testosterone nightmare.”

Before you were able to give her any form of response, two lean arms came lurking around your waist to spin you around, drawing bubbly giggles from your lips.

“My god, Satoru, we’re at work!” You managed to force out between your joy, eventually feeling your feet planted safely on the ground again. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders, towering over the group with a content smile on his face.

“Sorry, just got excited.” He placed a small peck on the crown of your head, sprinkling a tint of pretty pink on your cheeks.

Over and over you’d told him to keep his devotion to you on the down-low in public, especially in front of the students but he never managed to follow the simple request, having the two of you act like love sick teenagers. And as much as you pretended not to, you melted as much at his antics now as you did way back when, rarely putting up much of a fight to actually tone down his behaviour.

Looking at the three first years in front of you, both Nobara and Megumi had a hint of disgust at the sight of how mushy Satoru got with you, always having a desire to be in contact with you one way or another. Yuji, on the other hand, always admired the sheer transparency of the relationship.

“So what’d I miss?”

“Nobara want me to give her private lessons because she’s sick of you boys.”

“Young miss Kugisaki, dare I say I’m disappointed?” Satoru said, acting overly dramatic, sporting pinched eyebrows to have them believe he was actually hurt.

“Gojo-sensei, I have reason to believe I’ll learn even more having a female teacher,” she pouted.

“Ouch,” he breathed in response.

“You’ll tough it out,” you chuckled, a small thank you whispered from the tall man pressed against your side before you opened your mouth again. “I mean, think about how I have it. At least you’re only linked to him during school hours while I live with the guy. I can never catch a break-“

A grunt escaped you as the arm draped around you tensed up, pulling you into a strong headlock. Endless laughter leaving you as you so desperately tried to pull out of his grip but to to prevail, cheek smushed against his ribs.

“Can you guys believe it?” Satoru gasped before carefully pulling up his blindfolds slightly to reveal one of his eyes to look directly down at you. “My own wife?”

“‘Toru!” He just smiled down at you at the happy sounds from your beautiful mouth, also amused by your weak attempt to break free from his hold on you, messing up your hair as you desperately tried to pull your head back.

“You’re both insufferable,” Megumi rolled his eyes, just wanting to go on with his day.

“All I’ve done for you over the years, and still you find it in you to talk to me like that,” shaking his head in faux disappointment. You were finally able to pop your head out from his grip, not at all due to the fact that he intentionally loosened his hold on you a little. A low chuckle rumbling at the sight of your pouty lip hidden behind your bristly hair.

Pushing it out of your eyes, you clicked your tongue as you turned your attention to his students again. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m their favourite teacher,” he said proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning forward a little to me on the same level as you.

“Isn’t much competition when you’re their only teacher.”

“You’re feisty today. Get up in the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“No, I think it might have something to do with you hogging the covers all night.”

The bickering continued, bickering only possible to come from two people who’d been best friends for decades, eventually causing the three friends to walk away with either of you noticing.

“Wipe of that grin, sir, or you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threatened, nothing but pure amusement in your tone. His fingers found your face, squeezing your soft cheeks together, causing your sweet lips to stick forward looking more than inviting. A low giggle once again harboured deep in your throat, trying your best not to let them spill.

His face came closer — oh how he still managed to have the butterflies go crazy inside after all these years never seized to amaze you, feeling the alluring look through his blindfolds.

“We both know you’d come crawling into my arms after an a hour,” he teased, close enough to your puckered lips for you to feel his warm breath.

“Nuh uh-“ was all you were able to muffle out between his fingers.

“Damn, I love you,” he spoke softly before planting a kiss on your mouth, unable to hold back the smirk that grew when his grip changed to a tender cup of your cheek.

Sometimes it baffled you how you both managed to be so incredibly, deeply and stupidly in love with each other. You’d think after all those years with so much devotion and admiration shared, you would have grown tired of each other by now.

But you guessed it helped to be best friends with the person you’d chosen to be with for the rest of your life.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n hehe this is long... this is basically a love letter to gojo after 261, where i had my heart absolutely shattered like most of us yk. ive been super motivated to write it tho so just last week i had 30 hours screentime on my notes app lol... now, ive said it before and ill say it again, i am NOT a smut writer (clearly). personally, thats the part here i like the least bc i just feel like i cant get it to flow naturally... besides that hope you guys like this

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

[myladysapphire]

Solace

As the daughter of Alicent Hightower you had been fed stories of your older sister and her children, so when you are bethrothed to Jacaerys you arent too sure as to what to expect, and go into your courtship expecting the worse, only to find out you couldn't have been more wrong.

word count: 5,908

CW: MDI 18+, smut, fluff. p in v, fingering, loss of virginity, oral (f reciving), incest not beta read!

Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader

a/n - no war au

Masterlist

She had been betrothed to Prince Jacearys since they were both children, before most noble children even knew the expectation of one day getting married off and yet since the day of said betrothal, they had not spent a single moment together. Nor had you exchanged a single letter nor a single thought of the other, at least she had not. 

In all honesty she had simply lived as if he and their impending marriage did not exist, so when he returned for his brother's hearing and for their courtship to officially begin, they were at a complete loss of where to begin, they knew of no common interests, and there family’s had been pitted against each other their entire lives.  Seeing as they had never been close in their youth, nor present much time together, seeing as she had kept to herself or Heleana, and Jacearys having spent most of his time with his brother and hers.

She had always preferred solitude, preferred to keep to her books, painting, and her beloved dragon Gaelithox. Gaelithox perhaps the only being she would spend day after day with willingly. 

she had hoped he would be similar. Though from what she could remember, he always seemed to find himself surrounded by others, not once does she remember seeing him alone. Perhaps if she had then she would have gotten to know him. But for her crowds were her worst fear, talking to more than one person or anyone was really. But Jacearys was always the centre of attention, with his good looks and charisma, it seemed he never begged for attention, it just always simply found him. She hoped marrying him would not force her to become the same.

How they expected her to one day be queen confused her. With Jacearys as the future king she would have all these responsibilities and have to do everything she hated. Her mother had made sure to tell her that, to start to show her what would be expected of her.

For all she knew it was a scare tactic from her mother, y/n knew her mother hated them, she would call them bastards and would whisper in her ear more and more rumours about her eldest sister and her eldest son. 

So, when he arrived all she could do was watch him. Scared to start a conversation, and too nervous to make any moves towards him. So she stood from the sidelines as he found himself surrounded by the keeps inhabitants. 

As she watched him at dinner, following lucerys victory of being declared the future lord of the tides, she very much doubted he would like solitude as much as she did. The few moments where he found himself not in conversation, he almost seemed nervous. She feared he would never understand her fear of crowds, or her hate for balls and feasts. Nor understand what her mother referred to as her quirks. He was loud and charismatic, all traits she lacked. He was drawn to crowds and seemed to thrive at the events she hated. But he seemed to suffer in the moments she loved the moments alone, the quiet moments.

She had been forced to sit away from her usual seat and sit nearer to the centre, a place where all eyes were on her. She sat opposite her eldest sister, Rhaenyra, with Jacearys on one side, and Aegon on the other. 

Aegon had been making crude jokes all evening, whispering and taunting her. Though she had become extremely talented at ignoring him, it was starting to bug her, and all she wished was to retire to bed. 

Luckily, he seemed to be the only one interested in her, until Rhaenyra decided to start a conversation with her. She had never really known her eldest sister, having always been stopped by her mother. She remembered when her and Rhaenyra would have bi-weekly garden tea, until her mother found out and banned her from even going near Rhaenrya chambers.

Over the years her mother had told her only the worst about Rhaenyra, and forced her own hatred or mayhap envy of her onto y/n. And yet she only ever seemed to be kind to her when they did interact. 

“Sister?” y/n heard her call out.

“Yes princess?” she responded, stuttering from being addressed. 

“Are you quite alright, you look quite pale?” her face was concerned, as did Jaceaerys when he turned from his seat to face ger at his mother’s words.

“i-“ you looked down starting to pull at the skin on your fingers, “i do not find i fit in well in such gatherings, it's just stress” she spoke, voice shaking as y/n looked down and bringing her fingers to her mouth biting the skin around them.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?” She heard Jacearys ask in concern. 

At this her mother’s attention was captured, as she snapped her head around, ending her conversation with her grandsire, in doing so capturing the whole tables attention “what’s wrong dearests?”

“i- i would like to retire mother?” y/n almost begged, desperate for the offered reprieve.

“of course Aem-“her mother began, before being interrupted, clearly offering Aemond to escort her to her chambers. 

“I shall escort her,” Jacearys interrupted, standing from his seat and offering his hand that

she took it nervously.  These were the most words either had spoken for each other, at least that she could remember. 

Walking down the halls of the keep, she found herself in a comfortable silence.  Though Jacearys seemed to find it rather uncomfortable as he began to ramble on about gods knows what.

“so i told Luke -“

She hummed, responding to a question she probably heard minutes ago, she hated to admit it but she was seriously struggling to follow whatever he was talking about. The topic of which changed near every second. 

He stopped walking suddenly, causing her to be pulled back as their arms were still interlinked. He seemed to finally realise he was talking nonsense and had lost her completely “I’m sorry, I’ve been rambling on and you can’t even follow a word of what i was saying i-“ 

“oh no i- i, well yes, but I believe you are just nervous… as am il” y/n spoke softly. 

He nodded, “your right, i- i have been trying to think of anything i know about you, any shared memories and yet i can not find a single thing” he shook his head, seemingly ashamed.

“oh well… we never really talked until today, i always much preferred my own company to that of others”

“oh i- really?” he sounded confused as if spending time by himself was beyond him.

“i always found i was always more myself when with others, in fact i find myself nervous when I am alone '' he spoke, slowly making sure not to ramble on once more.

“I suppose I have never found such solace with another person as to feel myself with another person” you looked down, she too seemed so polar to one another and feared her solitude would always be interrupted once she married him. 

“I understand that, Luke is the same way” he looked at her then, “i hope that i can be the person you find solace in, one day..” he took her hands, stoking them softly, it was always a hard thing for her, touch. Always avoiding it, and only taking hugs to shaking someone’s hand when she knew social construct dictated she should. And yet with him it was fine it seemed nice almost, something she could get used to, even find solace in.

“I would like that”  she nodded, and he gave her a sweet smile, relief almost washing over his face. He took her arm once more and led her back to her chambers, this time instead of rambling, he simply asked her questions about herself, and for once she happily answered them.

The next day she was awoken to the sound of rapped knocks on her door. Though she normally slept in, it was still rather early for such a thing. Opening the door she saw Jacaerys standing with a bouquet of flowers, more specifically peonies, a flower that you would often find embroidered on several of her dresses. 

“Prince-“

”Jace” he interrupted “ please call me Jace, we are to be a married soon it is only right” 

“Jace” she said slowly, getting used to the informality she lacked with even her own family , “what are you doing here so early?” 

“Early?” he laughed, as if if the idea that nine in the morning could ever be considered early,  “i suppose it could be”

”Why are you here?” She asked, almost irritated.

“Sorry,” he spoke, reaching his arm out to present her with the peonies'' i simply came to ask if we may break our fast, with the hope you had yet to eat and yet it seems i woke you,” he shook his head “i apologise, i am used to waking up early for training. I should have thought you may have preferred to sleep in” he looked down nervously.

Sniffing the flowers, she moved into her room, leaving the door agar as an invitation for Jace to come in. ”I would like that” she nodded, “Though this is still rather early for me, so i shall need to call my maids to help me dress and prepare our breakfast”

”early?” He again asked, “what time do you normally wake?”

”Mostly before noon, but not before 10,” you looked up with a small smile, “i find i can sleep the days away if allowed, it is one of the few things i can never seem to get enough off”

He laughed, the nerves leaving him slightly. “I find i am always awake by eight, at the latest, sadly i do not possess the same skill to sleep in, a skill i am much jealous of.” He smiled, “ i shall have the guards fetch your maids and order breakfast, and perhaps tomorrow we may share lunch instead” 

“I would like that,” she nodded.

Their fast was spent with the exchange of shy smiles and timid questions asked, as time went on  they grew more comfortable and found their rhythm, and she found the tiredness she felt from talking to others never came. 

The next moon was perfect, each day she would wake, dress, then Jace would meet her and she broke her fast and he took his second meal. Then they would walk the gardens. After a few days, she confessed how typically she would ride Gaelithox the second she awoke, and soon they found they were going for dragon rides every morning. Vermax and Gaelithox enjoying each other's company. Every second was filled with chatter, and those few that were not, neither felt any awkwardness, just contentment, solace.

They seemed to spend almost every second of every day with each other and yet she not once found it tiring, or wished for a reprieve, she simply wished for more.

There were even days where she wished for no talking and Jace was more than happy to spend the whole day in silence, simply enjoying each other's company, as they went about their own tasks.

She felt as if she was learning everything there was to know about him, through his stories she felt as if she knew his brothers, his family, like she had grown up with them , and not just watching them. She learnt his quirks and he learnt hers. And every day they seemed to learn something new. 

But today was the first day she would spend without him since his arrival, with her father , the king, asking for Jace to accompany the small council meetings from now on. 

So she had planned to spend the day alone, resuming her old daily routine even on the days where Jace was not in her company. 

That was until her mother decided to skip the small council meeting and spend the day with her.

”Do not ever trust them, dearest” her mother tutted, brushing through her hair. “They only wish for you and he to grow close so when the time comes you are on their side-“

She had tried to tune her out, but the instant comments answered messing with her head. She felt as if she was falling in love with Jace and yet they way her mother spoke of him, it was as if he was worse than Aegon, a fact she knew was not true.

“mother!” she finally  snapped , shaking her head she pulled away from her mother, “i do not care! Jace shall be my husband and as you have reminded me since the day I first bleed, that my duty is to my husband and his family before my own.” she then whispered to herself “a fact you do not follow yourself” continuing she said “ so why now when it is the son of the woman you despise, am I to do the opposite?” It was so out of character for her and yet years and years of hearing the words bastard and betrayal and whispers of war, she was finished. 

She fully pulled away from her mother and stood up, straightening her dress, “this past moon i have felt more seen and known by Jace than anyone my whole life. My whole life I have detested company, and chatter, and have at any and all attempts avoided events. and now i find the one person i do not detest, and would falsely attend any event he wishes me to, someone i enjoy spending time with, my future husband! You wish to ruin it for me! Do you not want me to be happy?” She nearly yelled, her face turning from the sweet, shy and docile face it had always been had turned angry “you clearly do not wish for Heleana to have happiness, as clear with her marriage to Aegon at three and ten!” She was steaming, years of biting her younger so as to not gain attention, or do more talking that’s necessary, bitterness flowed through her.

”dearest i-“ her mother started, moving towards and reaching for her to pull her in a hug, only to be met by an instant rejection.

”I simply wish for whatever war you are making up in your head to end, so you can finally allow me the happiness I deserve!” And with that she walked about, only to be met with Jace and Rhaenyra's face as she walked out. 

Jace chased after her, leaving his mother left to deal with Alicent.

”y/n” he called out, “y/n stop!”

“No, I can't,” she said as she continued down the halls, though she did slow down, allowing Jace a chance to catch up with her. “if i stop walking I’ll march right back in there and apologies!” she proclaimed.

“I'm sure you won't, you did the right thing '' Jace spoke, still trying to catch up with her.

“i have bite my tongue my whole life, never expressing my thoughts or opinions, and today i did!” she spoke, as she realised she was walking towards Jace’s chambers. She didn’t even think of where she was going, having stormed out of her own rooms, it seemed that in this past month his room had become a comfort to her.

Finally catching up in time to open the door to his rooms. “y/n you don’t have to explain, you didn’t do anything, you just spoke up for yourself and…for me” y/n swear she saw him blush.

“i know it was hard for you, that talking and expressing yourself is something your struggle with…but you stood up for yourself it’s nothing you have to feel bad about it’s something you should be proud of” he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips “and in all honestly  i was rather impressed”

“you where?” she blushed, stepping one closer. 

he nodded, “ you know me and my mother were coming to your chambers to discuss the wedding” he said wrapping his arm around her waist. a movement and touch she had now grown to love. “ We are to be married in a fortnight” his face moved closer to her.

“We are?” she questioned, her breathing getting heavier. 

he nodded, there faces so close they were sharing their breaths “yes, soon you will be my wife, and i your husband and your mothers silly little rants will have no sway any longer” 

she gasped, he leant forward and finally kissed her, it was soft and sweet, leaving them both a blushing mess. 

The next two weeks moved slowly, filled with wedding planning. 

Her relationship with her mother was strained, finding most of the planning to be with her eldest sister Rhaenrya and even Heleana more so than her own mother. And the few times she was there she simply sent a glare in their direction and took at every laugh and smile.

She found that she rather enjoyed her sister's company, the two having a few similar interests. Rhaenyra seemed kind and cared for her children a great deal and as a result she did with her too. 

She knew her mother cared, but watching her mother interact with Rhaenyra highlighted that most of her mothers objections were actually ones of jealousy. She was Jealous of Rhaenyra and more so of Daemon, as he received more glares the more he and Rhaenrya showed affection to one another. So much jealousy that she swear she saw some longing in her gaze whenever she stared at Rhaenrya.

The day before her wedding she finally found herself alone with her mother though from the way her mother barged into her room she knew the conversation the pair were about to have would not be a pleasant one.

“sit down dearest” she spoke as she herself got comfortable.  Doing as her mother bid, she sat beside her. Her mother quickly took her hand in hers, tight enough that even if she were to recoil it would not break her free. 

“When I had this. Conversation with your sister, she already knew some of what was to come, with her Marrying Aegon, and will he loved to taunt her with the gory details for moons before their wedding” Alicent took a deep breath. “On the morrow you will be wed, and with that shall come some expectations” 

she nodded, not quite sure what her mother meant. “not only will you be taking on some of my duties but there is also the expectation of an heir…” she looked at her then, expecting her to interrupt in some way. She stayed quiet, she knew she would have to have children but how the act itself was done was peculiar to her.

Her mother shifted uncomfortably, “once you are wed the marriage must be consummated” she awkwardly grabbed at her hands, “it will be uncomfortable but some pleasure can be found in the act” she sent her mother peculiar look, causing her mother to cough uncomfortably and once again move to explain “your husband will…insert himself in you, and spill his seed, allowing a babe to be made, though it can take some time so i shall prey you are lucky and conceive soon…”

she looked down quietly “mother “she spoke slowly, “Aegon is my brother, though he and i aren’t close i have…walked in on him numerous times, time enough to know what sex is” 

Her mother was shocked, looking down and shaking her head, “your brother has no shame-“

“mother, i also have a septa who taught me” she laughed, Heleana only did not know because she was young mother, i am aware, in fact me and-“ she cut herself off not wanting her mother to become more shocked at hearing how her and Jace have already talked of the wedding night.

They were both inexperienced, though Jace had been taken to brothels by Daemon he had never actually done anything, wanting to save himself for his wife. A fact she was most happy about. 

She loved Jace, she realised. He was everything she did not expect, though he was chatty and loud, he was also kind and sweet, a perfect gentleman. She and him had more in common than not, they both loved to read though Jace found little time to do so, so was more than happy to listen to her ramble on and on about the last book she read. She had shown him how to paint and draw, a skill he, though terrible at, found rather enjoyable, especially when he got the flicking paint at her. She herself had even found she loved a few of his hobbies or well if you can call sword fighting a hobby. 

she remembered the morning, it was still early in their courtship, the first week in.  She and Jace had yet to sleep and yet they could see dawn breaking through the windows in his room. They had spent the whole day and night talking, getting to know each other. “it’s dawn already?” Jace sighed as he moved from his spot on the sofa. she sighed from the movement, missing his warmth. 

“it’s seems so” she hummed 

“it’ll be time for training soon.” he spoke, not necessarily to her. 

“Do you train alone?” 

“Here I do, On Dragonstone Daemon is typically dragging me and Luke out of bed the second the sun begins to rise but here he has no desire to train” he looked at her, “why don’t you join me?” he asked.

“i have never even touched a sword” she exclaimed, as if the idea was a mad one.

He grinned “exactly, it’ll be most entertaining!”

she laughed, “fine, but you must promise to show me your high Valyrian!” y/n declared, he had been complaining how bad his Valyrian was but refused to show her, despite her being fluent and offering to teach him.

He sighed, then a big grin filled his face “very well, let us teach one another, i teach you in swordsmanship and you teach me high Valyrian” 

she laughed “very well! though i make no promises to these swordplay lessons!”

They met again in the training yard, both in training clothes. She had borrowed hers from Jace and she was sure he was trying to sabotage her. His clothes hung from her in an almost comical way, he himself had laughed as she nearly tripped netting the training yard.

“you look beautiful” he said though his eyes were full of mirth as he took in the way his clothes hung from her.

“Perhaps you could have given me some of Luke's clothes instead” she sighed, a frown forming her face as she hung her arm up to show just how big his sleeves were compared to her arms.

“Next time we shall!” he declared, stopping his laughter to then pass her a wooden sword “for now it’s fine.” 

The sword was heavier than she was expecting, as shown by how she nearly dropped it.

“do you do any exercise?” he asked, seeing her near miss with the sword.

she scoffed “no, do i look like someone who does?” she asked bewildered.

he laughed “no i suppose not, and knowing you it doesn't surprise me that you do not” he took the sword off her “perhaps we should start with some exercise”

“what?” she asked, she hated doing anything that could be remotely referred to as exercise. 

“Don’t worry, just some light exercise, to build stamina”  he looked at her then, something passing through his eyes. something she had yet to see. 

He had made her run ten laps, stretch in more easily than she knew possible, And then finally let her hold the sword. “You know I was hoping you wouldn’t take this so seriously” she sighed, hitting the dummy repeatedly. Jace corrects her technique with each hit. “really?”

“Of course not, when you said it I had hoped we would just be jesting around” she sighed dramatically, before moving to place the sword down on the rack. “I think that this ‘lesson’ is over.” she started to walk away only for Jace to grab her arm.

“Wait!” he said, pulling her back to him gently. “Are you really not enjoying yourself?” he asked with a sad smile on his face. 

y/n sighed, before a small smile graced her face “no, but perhaps hearing you speak some high Valyrian may make it more joyous.” she spoke, though she was enjoying herself a little, though it would definitely not be a hobby she would be taking up, though watching him practice his swordsmanship, that is a hobby she will be taking up.

“I- really?” he asked, his face unsure, “nyk-e don’t ȳdragon ziree sȳr”

She laughed, his accent and pronunciation were all over the place, perhaps she was better at swordsmanship after one lesson that he was at high Valyrian after years of lessons, “it’s gaoman daor ȳdragon ziry sȳrī”

I do not speak it well

“See what I mean!” he exclaimed, as she continued to laugh.

“oh Jace, gaomagon daor worry nyke sure kesā jiōragon sȳrkta isse daor jēda” she taunted. 

do not worry I’m sure you will get better in no time

“I have no idea what you just said '' he sighed, shaking his head, “but at least i can hold a sword properly” he taunted back to her.

“Hey! It's my first lesson, have you been learning high Valyrian for how long?” she questioned, a gleam in her eyes.

“hāre jēdri” he replied, a smile as he realised he had pronounced it correctly

Three years

She hummed, beginning to circle him, “hāre jēdri? funny seeing hae heleanas riñar ȳdragon sȳrkta eglie valyrain than ao se issi balrey hāre pōntāla”

three years? Funny seeing as Heleanas children speak better high Valyrian than you and they are balrey three themselves

“I- well, stop taunting me!” he protested.

“Only if we can stop this, will I have reached my yearly exercise limit.. For the year!” she joked, dramatically falling, conveniently into his arms. 

“Fine, fine!” he said, “but you can not mention to anyone about my high Valyrian.” he brought her back to her feet.

“Oh please who would i tell? se lo nyke gōntan, skorkydoso would ao sesīr gīmigon?” she laughed, starting to walk away, only to have Jace chase her back all the way back to her chambers.

and if i did, how would you even know?

It was safe to say she never participated in his training again, but on the odd days she was awake when he went, she found she did in fact enjoy watching him.

It took a few attempts before they found a hobby they both loved equally. Painting. She had been painting for as long as she can remember, Jace however had taken it up about two weeks ago, but seemed to love it as much as she.

“Let's paint each other!” Jace declared, as he saw the paints y/n left out. 

She hesitated, “have you ever painted before?”

“No, but how hard could it be?” She laughed at that, but said nothing.

They sat opposite each other, their art facing only themselves. They gave themselves an hour before they would show each other what they had painted. 

Jace went first. He seemed so proud of himself. To give him credit it was fairly good, though it looked nothing like her. 

“It's good!” she exclaimed, “i like it” she reached forward to grab it “i shall have it framed” she hummed. Jace smiled widely at that.

“Show me yours!” he asked, or more declared as he turned the canvas around himself. 

His face was shocked, mouth wide, “i- wow” he was at a loss of words. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed, his face one of awe, “and you said mine was good!, you were lying!”

She laughed, “no-no it is, i promise” i grabbed his art then, comparing the two, before throwing his on the floor, “oh please, mine is rubbish, yours is wow! I think it shall become my official portrait!” he exclaimed standing up and walking to the doors with it. 

“woah ! where are you going?” she asked standing up to follow him.

“Too show everyone” he stated as if it was the obvious answer.

He showed it to everyone he saw, a blushing y/n on his tail.

“Mother.” she spoke, back once more in the present, “i trust him, more than anyone and anything” at that her mother relaxed, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, she saw a real smile gracing her mothers face.

The day of the wedding came, she had expected nerves and jitters, and yet all she felt was contentment. She knew she was lucky, most brides barely knew their husband before they wed them, and she knew Jace and he knew her. She knew his quirks, his hobbies, and he knew hers. They were polar opposites, and yet they fit so perfectly together. She was excited for this day, and as was he.

The dress she wore was her mothers dress. A white dress with sleeves coming down to her elbow before dropping down to the length of her dress showing a deep red. On her shoulder sat two dragons, dragons she had changed to represent Vermax and Gaelithox. The dragons were joined together and connected in an intricate pattern on her bodice. She wore no jewellery, only a small head piece, woven into the braids on her hair.

“You look beautiful” her mother declared. “Are you ready?”

y/n nodded, taking one final look at herself in the mirror, one last time before leaving her room.

The wedding was a blur, it went by so fast and before she knew it, Jace and her were declaring their love and sealing it with a kiss. They exchanged giddy smiles as they left the 

sept, their hands never wavering from their grip. The night celebrations went by quickly. The only time they never once left each others sides. It was the first event y/n ever truly enjoyed, they had danced four times that night, feasted to their heart's content, and enjoyed the first few hours of being newlyweds. 

Then it was time for the bedding. She had never been more grateful than when Jace shouted at the men attempting to drag her away, and he himself picking her up and taking her to their now shared chambers. 

“I am sorry for that.” he spoke, taking her hand in his, “I had made it clear we would not have a bedding, but -”

“Aegon had other plans' ' she interrupted, “do not worry, it's just who he is' ' she laughed.

For the first time in weeks the silence between them was awkward. Both knowing what was to come, but not how to start.

After a few moments Jace finally moved forward, he reached for her slowly, one had wrapping around her waist, the other reaching up to caress her face. They both looked at each other shyly, before Jace moved in closer, his lips capturing hers. It was soft and slow.

His lips still joined with hers they moved further into the room, his hand moving from her waist to her back, reaching and slowly unlacing the binds of her bodice.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked, breaking away from her lips.

She nodded, “yes.”  As she slowly reached to pull of her dress, leaving her in just her chemise.

Jace groaned his pants tightening, he reached forward once again capturing her lips in his.

 They slowly moved towards the bed, her hands reaching towards his clothes, slowly taking them off and leaving him in his small clothes.

There lips breaking apart, they both took each other in, before finally lying on the bed. Jace continued to kiss her slowly moving from her lips to her neck, his hands reaching down to her should and moving the straps of her chemise down, revealing her breasts.

“gods” he groaned, “you’re so beautiful” he said as he moved down to kiss her breasts. Slowly moving down her body, removing her chemise as he did, leaving her bare beneath him.

He was level with her heat, he had heard of kissing there and the thought of tasting her in such a way made a groan escape him. “Can I?” he begged, unsure of what he meant y/n nodded.

Jace dived in, giving a cautious lick through her folds, he groaned at the taste and quickly went back licking and tasting like a starved man. She herself was moaning in pleasure, her hands clutching the back of his neck, tightening when he finally found her bud.

Releasing the reaction form touching the small bud of nerves, he made sure to focus his efforts on it, sucking it into his mouth, and bringing his fingers up to her entrance, beginning to circle her juices and slowly tease his way into her.

Tensing at the feeling of the intrusion, she gripped further onto him, and started to move away. With his spare hand he gripped onto her and pulled her back to him. His finger now pully in he instead started to focus his intentions of pumping them in and out of her. Causing her to start moaning once again in pleasure, even more so when his second and third finger entered her. Soon she was reaching her peak.

He slowly backed away from her, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick long length.

“gods” they both groaned at the sight of the others naked body. He slowly crawled back onto the bed, his body covering hers. He once again took her lips with his, in a passionate and heated kiss, his legs slowly parted hers as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he once again asked, caressing her face.

She nodded, covering the hand on her face with her own and reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes” she consented.

He nodded, kissing her once more as he slowly entered her.

She groaned at the stretch, feeling at slight sting as he slowly entered her. Her face contorted in quick discomfort, but quickly faded as he settled himself fully inside her, allowing her time to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to her neck. “can I move?” he groaned, near begged.

“yes” she said, and he wasted no time, slowly pumping in and out of her. Slowly the discomfort faded and all she could find was pure pleasure.

Moving in and out of her, Jace was moaning, kissing her neck with each thrust, he had never felt such pleasure as he did in this moment.

Slowly picking up the pace, he soon found that sweet spot inside her, that turned her into a moaning mess. Wrapping her arms around his neck she was soon grinding her hips against his, chasing her peak, and he was soon reaching one of his own, spilling his seed inside of her.

Slowly pulling from her, her moved to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her towards him, he kissed her slowly and whispered, “I love you”. In that moment she felt what could only be described as solace.

That night, they did not sleep a wink, nor would they in the moons that followed. Their marriage was a harmonious one, one of love and joy. And when the king finally passed, and Rhaenrya was queen, there was no division of factions of house Targaryen, she liked to think that their marriage has helped branch the units, and make them once more a family.

Even more so when nine moons after their wedding she birthed their first child.

Taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog @apollonshootafar @zillahvathek @flrboyd @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99

to be added to taglist

[chobunz]

── “ something new ” ( lhs ) 📌

๑ You and your boyfriend try face riding for the first time ever, his new #favorite position from now on.

pair: jock!heeseung ㅊ thick gf!reader | warnings: smut, dry grinding, face sitting, shaking, spanking, praise, quick death jokes, heeseung admiring you to the core, trying new things, worried reader, thirsty heeseung ftw, use of safe word | words: 918

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“fuck..” heeseung groaned, feeling your core grind on top of his clothed erect. ‘netflix and chill’, yeah it's cliché and all but it gets the sex drive going. the two of you were watching *** (show/movie name) cuddled up in bed together. you finally had the day off and what better way to spend it than with your precious, handsome boyfriend? always 100% a good time. guaranteed.

“mmh.. ‘m so wet baby.” you moaned against his mouth, if anything, after you finished you wanted his lips to be bruised, you wanted everyone to know that he had more than what he needed, you knew your worth. “you make me so wet…”

watching you ride him always struck a line in him. he was always wanting to try new things with you in the bedroom. you two have been through a series of ‘never do agains’ ‘once in a whiles’ and ‘fucking greats’, position wise. though, you were always a riding type of girl, you loved how you could feel every inch of him and even have control of him when you’re on top.

“wan’ you to ride my face this time, princess.” he breathed out as you pull away, gently caressing your skin. his hands travelled the curves of your body, all the way down to the hem of your shorts. tugging them down past your thighs.

you tip off of him to take your shorts off fully, feeling him smack your ass as in indicator to do so. “ride your face ?..” you questioned. you weren’t really sure how to ride someone’s face as you’ve never tried it before, sitting back down on his waist.

he hummed at your shyness, pulling your bottom up to his chest. “you don’ want to ?” “we don’ gotta...” he lazily spoke, not wanting you to feel pressured at all.

“no, no. i mean.. i’m definitely down. i just don’t wanna kill you..” you couldn’t help but worry, you worried about if he’d be able to breathe properly while you sat on his pretty face.

“no baby, i’d live just to die from this pussy. kill me.” he joked kissing your thigh. “wan’ you to suffocate me..” his eyes found yours biting his lip. his sight dripped from your eyes, to your lips, then your boobs, and all the way down to your wetness. he could feel the heat from your core on his bare skin.

you felt so lucky to have someone who constantly praised and worshipped you. he made you feel like a queen, which he so rightfully believed you were one. maybe even a lost princess, ready to claim the throne as yours.

and let’s not lie, you certainly did find one. which looked something like heeseung’s lap— and his face pretty soon.

๑ ๑ ๑

“heeseu.. heeseung !” your hands tugged at the strands of his hair as he licked your slate clean. you were constantly whining. your moans singing a beautiful song to heeseung’s ears.

everytime you found yourself lifting up from his mouth you felt him forcefully pulling you back down. devouring you like a lion to it’s prey. hearing him groan an ‘uhnuhn’ whenever you’d try and lighten the weight you put on his head.

his tongue entered you from time to time, stroking the side of your walls with perfection. “baby, kiwi..” you cried, patting the top of his head. when the safe word slid out of your mouth he immediately stopped.

“did i do something wrong ?” he rubbed your thighs as you shifted on top of him. the bit of worry leaving him once you hovered back over his thirsty mouth.

“mhm.. jus’ wanted to turn around..” you shakily exhaled, feeling him tighten his grip on your ass before he dove back into you.

“taste so good baby..” his hot breath fanned against your sopping core.

you brushed your fingers along his abdomen, pulling his designer briefs down far enough for his bulge to fling out. your hips rotating at just the sight alone.

“hm, no baby, just relax pretty.” he groaned, nibbling on your bud.

“please, hee..” you pleaded, rubbing his length gently.

“no, sit the fuck up.” he pulled your waist, causing you to lean up straight. a pout adorning your lips.

“but, you’re so hard baby..” “looks so good..” you grinded against his mouth once his tongue found your insides again. moaning at your neediness for him.

you felt yourself shaking just at the feel of him kissing your dewy cunt. it was so sloppy and passionate. he kissed your pussy like he loved it. and he did. he could do it for hours without complaining.

“shit.. gonna come..” you breathlessly whined.

“you’re gonna come, hmm? mama ?” he smirked against you licking through each fold. he didn’t wanna waste a single drop of you.

“yeah..” eyes closing shut at the feeling, ready to burst any minute.

“then do it.” he teased your clit, spelling out his name on the tip of your swollen bud. giggling as he could hear you falling apart above him.

“come for me baby.”

he continued praising you, cheering you on every step of the way. your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

“ugh, i’m coming.. right now..” you struggled to even speak, a last stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. “fuck !”

your body ‘laxed on his. you were breathing heavier than ever. and even felt slight embarrassment for yourself.

“shit princess, you just squirted..” he caressed your shivering ass; licking his cumstache with a ‘good girl.’

“hmmm...”

ヾ(≧▽≦)o

want to read more ?? click here for a part 2 !!