summary: it was just a stupid bet, so why did he care so much?
ft: katsuki x fem!reader
notes: part 1 of my L-O-V-E valentines special! lots of fluff, and if you read all of them there's one thing that connects them haha
w.c: 2.5k
to no one's surprise, bakugou katsuki thought valentines day was dumb as fuck.
in the days coming up to the aforementioned holiday, class 3-A were chattering away in their classroom, gossiping about who would be confessing to who, and what they planned to do for the occasion.
"would you extras shut the fuck up?! it's just another holiday made up to make you buy more crap you don't need," bakugou exclaimed from his seat. you and the girls pouted at his negativity, arguing that it wasn't about the chocolate or teddy bears, but about love. bakugou scoffed; earlier in the hallway he was almost hit square in the head with a heart shaped arrow, but yeah, this holiday was totally about love.
"you're just salty you don't get as many confessions as todoroki!" kirishima piped up. he and kaminari shot each other a look and giggled behind their hands.
this was a highly debated subject around this time of year, they were no doubt the biggest heartthrobs at U.A. every february, without fail, the two would open their lockers to a landslide of love letters, chocolate and stuffed animals. junior girls would chase the two down in between periods, and the perfume from the assortment of gifts would make the corridor reek of a sick floral scent for weeks.
whipping around to his two biggest ragebaiters, the irked blonde's palms began to spark, and the rest of the class braced for impact. fortunately for kirishima and kaminari, the door slid open to reveal a mess of capture tape and unkempt hair, as their teacher strolled up to his podium.
"enough," aizawa said in his usual monotone voice, rubbing his temples. "it's not even nine yet and you're already doing my head in." taking your seats, the class's chatter subsided and attention was on aizawa as the school day started.
bakugou was pissed.
unfortunately for him, the rest of his day was preoccupied thinking about those idiotic valentines confessions. of course he got more love letters than that stupid pretty boy, it wasn't even close. the very thought that todoroki would surpass him at something so trivial and meaningless was annoying him to no end. he groaned at the thought of having to haul the unwanted chocolate and teddy bears back to his dorm room, or better yet, the dump.
the morning of valentine's rolled around, and as usual, he and todoroki were at their lockers, large trash bags in hand. the scent of roses lingered in the halls, and you could tell both boys' lockers were full to the brim. the corners of pink and red envelopes stuck out from the edges of the metal doors, some scattering the ground like cherry blossom petals. you and the others laughed at the annual sight.
"the kitchen's gonna have chocolate for months!"
"save some chicks for the rest of us!"
"look out, avalanche!"
bakugou growled while todoroki just sighed, neither of them particularly thrilled about this yearly occurrence. from the corner of your eye you spotted a huddled group of freshmen girls whispering ecstatically and eyeing the boys like hawks, no doubt fuelled by delusion and fantasy. before either of them could turn the handles on their lockers, hands slammed on the metal, stopping the two. they both turned to see sero, a wicked grin gracing his face.
"now now, don't you wanna settle this debate for good this year?" the two gave the taller boy a blank stare. bakugou lit up, opening his mouth, getting ready to yell at him, before kirishima and kaminari popped up behind him.
"let's place a bet!" the red haired boy exclaimed. "to see who really gets more confessions!"
"winner gets dinner, on us!" kaminari continued, giving his best smile to persuade the two.
bakugou clicked his tongue. what a pain in the ass. now, not only was he going to have to haul all this shit back to the dorms, he was going to have to count them while all these losers were watching! he briefly considered blowing up the entire row of lockers, when a gentle nudge in the arm caught his attention.
"that's kind of a fun idea, right kats?" he turned to see you, looking up at his with those big eyes he always found himself looking for. the use of your nickname for him made his heart do a flip. he glanced away, hoping you wouldn't notice the pink that began to dust the tips of his ears. he looked to todoroki, who muttering something about soba; the bastard was actually considering the stupid bet.
bakugou, being backed into a corner, reluctantly conceded, letting out an annoyed grunt of affirmation. "whatever, nerds. it's obviously going to be me anyways." at least he could get a dinner out of this.
cheers erupted from the trio of boys as they ran off, having already risked their lives to ask such a stupid thing from bakugou; if they stayed around longer, who knows what would happen. you beamed, giving bakugou a bright smile along with a tingling feeling in his chest before following after them. if bakugou was visibly red, todoroki didn't say anything.
they finally opened their lockers, only to be hit with a wave of sickly sweet scents and girly envelopes - some pink, some red, one⊠with a lock of hair taped to it â gross. the familiar sight elicited a sigh from the two boys, now up to their knees in romance themed and heart shaped goods. bakugou began shoving the gifts into the trash bag, not caring that they were crumpling up in his iron grip.
just like last year, and the year before, he kept a sharp eye out, wondering if any of them were from you.
the class gathered excitedly in the common room as the sun began to set. word of the boys' valentine's bet spread, and they were more than eager to see who was truly more popular among the student population at U.A.
"it's gotta be todoroki, he's got that tragic backstory, plus he's super handsome!" hagakure's floating clothes waved around excitedly.
"i wouldn't count katsuki out just yet," you rebutted, the girls turning to look at you. "he's got that delinquent look, girls love a bad boy!"
the others hummed in agreement, and continued theorising about the winner of the bet. you took this opportunity to glance at bakugou sitting across the room, his bag of confessions haphazardly thrown beside him. he caught your gaze and made eye contact â had he heard what you said? choosing to play it cool, you gave him a smile and a thumbs up, causing him to look away.
sero stood with his hands on his hips at the top of the room, his smug grin indicating he was clearly pleased with himself. as the rest of the class settled on or around the couches, he cleared his throat.
"ladies and gentlemen!" he said with a flourish, akin to a circus ring leader. you caught bakugou rolling his eyes, which made you giggle quietly. "we are about to settle this once and for all! bakugou verses todoroki: who's U.A's biggest heartthrob, the most eligible bachelor, the shining prince-"
"will you just get on with it!" bakugou cut him off before it went on for too long. sero flinched before nodding to kirishima and kaminari. the duo produced the large bags of confessions, rustling the contents for added effect. oohs and ahhs echoed around the common room. the confessions were promptly dumped on opposite sides of the table, an assortment of gifts and letters spilling out.
yaoyorozu and iida, the only two students trusted to be able to count properly, took seats at either end â thus, the bet began. the class watched with wide eyes, on the edge of their seats. to be honest, they were counting envelopes, it wasn't that intense, but the tension and atmosphere said otherwise.
"57, 58⊠59," iida put down the last letter from bakugou's pile. the class's eyes shot over to yaoyorozu on the opposite end of the table. she gently set down the last piece of paper in her hand onto todoroki's side.
"⊠59 as well," she said with a sigh.
the class erupted, hell broke loose.
"what a cop out!"
"a tie! are we deadass?!"
"there's no way! recount!"
the class was split down the middle, half roaring with laughing and the other half outraged at the result. todoroki looked wistfully into space, no doubt mourning the loss of his free soba. bakugou scoffed at his peers' reactions.
"tch, told ya there was no way i'd lose to half n' half" he leaned back and crossed his arms.
"well, you didn't exactly win either bro," kaminari replied. the blonde jumped out of his seat, and you let out a hearty laugh, watching as bakugou chased his friend around the common room, sparks flying.
with the bet over and no conclusive result, you and your friends continued to chat and hang out in the common room. one by one, everyone retreated to their respective rooms, turning in for the night. you watched from your spot on the couch as bakugou got up to head to his.
bakugou closed his dorm room door behind him, sighing. at least he didn't technically lose.
a more harrowing thought plagued his mind as he took a seat on his bed â none of those confessions were from you. he closed his eyes and imagined a scenario wherein you shyly handed him an envelope, a confession, before he dismissed the thought. he was certain you didn't see him the way he saw you - he chalked up the long talks at night and your smiley attitude towards him as you two just being good friends.
the thought of you made his chest tighten. how he wished even just one of the hundreds of love letters he received over his years at school were from you. he'd rather to blow himself up than admit that though. he flopped back, eyes still closed and near falling asleep, when a rhythmic knock at the door jolted him awake.
he grumbled at the sudden intrusion, ready to bark at whoever dared come to him when he was trying to sleep. he swung the door open, full of anger, before coming face to face with his favourite pair of eyes. his gaze instantly softened at the sight of you at his door.
"sorry for coming over unannounced, i should have sent you a text!" you gave him an apologetic look. he sighed, mumbling a soft 'whatever' as he stepped aside to let you enter. you took a seat at the edge of his bed, looking around. you noted that everything was in the same place as the last time you had seen his room, right down to the pens on his desk.
"whaddya want?" he huffed, taking a seat an inch or two away from you. you felt warmth radiate from him, and a faint scent of caramel.
"i just wanted to see you!" and there it was, the smile that made him weak in the knees and red in the face. "how'd you feel about the whole valentine's thing?"
he scoffed in response, trying to hide his true expression. "its a buncha bullshit. the bet was stupid anyways."
you giggled and he felt that feeling in his chest again. he was for sure losing it.
"it was pretty silly. though, i don't think you should feel down about it, considering you won," came your reply.
his head snapped up to look at you, while you looked back at him with a knowing smile on your face. you were hoping he was too focused on what you just said to notice the blush slowly invading your cheeks. he opened his mouth to question your obviously lacking memory when you turned your whole body to face him.
with the slightest trace of a tremble, you reached into your pocket to produce a small orange envelope, complete with a tiny red heart seal. you quickly shoved it to his chest, knocking him back a little. your cheeks flushed, feeling his toned muscles under his shirt. bakugou just stared at you back at you, wide eyed, the letter laying forgotten in his lap.
"there," you said quietly, close to a whisper. "that makes 60. one more than todoroki, so i guess you won after all." after what felt like forever, bakugou's eyes broke from your figure to look down at the paper. a shade of orange identical to his hero costume, with his name written in your handwriting on the front. his fingers pressed into the paper, his grip gentle as if the whole world was contained in whatever was in this envelope.
"is this⊠from you?" you turned to look at him, only to find him already staring intently into your eyes. nerves suddenly taking over, you could only nod in response. his eyes bounced between you and the letter you just gave him.
"well, who else would it be from?"
you felt heat rise to your face, and a twisted feeling in your stomach area. a silence fell over the room, the only sound you could hear was the mechanical whirr of the ceiling fan above you. your mind raced in tandem with your heart that was beating so hard you thought it was trying to claw it's way out of your chest.
the boy in front of you inched towards you, moving to you until you could feel his warm breath against your face. "kat-"
his reply to your confession came in the form of a kiss; his lips met yours and instinctively your hands reached to pull him closer. they tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to deepen the kiss, his hands rubbing circles on the small of your back.
you finally pulled away, and bakugou let out a noise that almost sounded like a whimper. he gazed at you like you hung the stars outside his window yourself, before pressing another kiss to your lips.
"it took you long enough." he pulled you to his chest, mumbling into your shoulder. you let out a soft laugh.
"just please tell me you won't throw it out like the rest of them"
bonus!
the next day at breakfast, bakugou sulked on his stool at the kitchen island. he mindlessly scrolled on his phone while kirishima gave the boy powerful thumps on the back.
"lighten up bakubro! its okay you didn't win the bet!" he exclaimed way too loudly for the morning.
bakugou opened his mouth, retort at the ready, when you walked into the common room from bakugou's room. eyes followed you as you casually strolled in, sporting bed head, wrinkled pyjamas, and a black zip up hoodie that was way too big for you.
"mornin'" you yawned, raising a sleepy hand up in greeting, before opening the fridge in search of breakfast.
kirishima gawked at you, before turning to stare at bakugou. the blonde didn't look up from his phone, not even acknowledging your arrival. breakfast in one hand, you came up to him and squeezed him in a tight hug with the other. his arm snaked around your shoulder, mumbling a 'mornin' gorgeous', as he planted a kiss on your cheek, before letting you go to sit with the girls. he shot a disgruntled, but more so smug, look at his friend.
"didn't win my ass."
yayyy the first part of my valentines event!
i heart kats sm, argh i just love writing for him!!!!
âËàż make sure to check out the other fics from L-O-V-E!
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             ‷ Enjin x Fallen Spherite!Reader
>>>>>> Apparently Enjin has all the 'luck' when it comes to finding Spherites in No Man's Land. This time he's found youâa stuck-up Spherite nobleâcast out with the trash. You're prissy, needy and an overall pain in his ass. Definitely not his typeâbut that slutty pussy sure is. âĄ
>>>>>> đŠđđ§đą đđ+ for filthy enjin smut. enjin & reader are delulu & down bad. big dick!enjin. size queen!reader. bimbo!reader. sex under the influence. public sex. breeding. bjs. enjin is overall diabolical. but there's also a bit of plot too with some romance/fluff/humor. no spoilers for anime/manga.
>>>>>> đ°đ: 13.1k
đđ§: major special shoutouts to @honeybunnnnie my trash daddy partner in crime, who beta'd for me and gave me lots of good lil' gems I incorporated here. we share one horny brain cell when it comes to this man and the amount of headcanons we have made based on this that I didn't even include is INSANE lmfao.
You arenât Enjinâs type.Â
That much is certain the moment he stumbles upon you after being called to check out a disturbance in No Manâs Land. Scanning the terrain of garbage, Enjin wonders if heâs hallucinating.
Still high from the night beforeâor maybe thereâs a leak in his full face?
Either way he had to be tripping absolute balls right now because what the hell else could explain the giant kaiju-like plushie with bunny ears, wide beady eyes, and jagged teeth ripping apart trash beasts in the distance like they were wet paper towels?
But blazed or not, Enjin still has a job to do. Umbreaker sweeps him across the trash dunes in a speedy blur, but by the time he arrives he is already too late and the show is over.Â
All thatâs left is you: a young woman passed out in a pile of demolished trash beast remains and other junk. The giant kaiju-like plushieânow inanimate and no bigger than a handâlay beside you tethered to your person by a keyring.Â
Happening upon another giver in No Manâs Land wasnât out of the ordinary, sure, but if Enjin thought he was high from seeing your jinki in action he had to be damn near in the clouds once he recognized your clothes. Â
Similar to when Enjin discovered Rudo, he could immediately tell by your dress you are a Spherite. But unlike the threadbare attire of the scrappy tribesmen teen, yours practically screams wealth. They are the finest clothes Enjin has ever laid eyes on. Appearing as if they are woven from gold itself, despite the fresh layer of grime that settled on them.
You arenât just any olâ Spheriteâyouâre a Spherite noblewoman.
Keh, interesting.Â
With a shake of his head Enjin scoops you up, heading back to HQ. They arenât gonna believe thisâŠ
Enjin digs out a backup mask from his satchelâclearly not made for your face, because it slides right off. With an annoyed sigh, he holds it in place himself. Guess thatâs his job now⊠at least until you wake up.
Although Enjin soon discovers a pattern of how unnecessarily difficult Spherites can be upon arriving to the Abyssâas the first thing you do upon waking in Enjinâs arms is to slap the everloving dogshit out of him.Â
Fuck, you have a mean right hand.Â
Enjin tongues a tooth to make sure itâs still there.Â
âLet me go this instant, you filthy kidnapping degenerate! I demand you to take me home!â You cry out.Â
Tears fog up the mask on your face as you clearly mistook Enjin for some kind of criminal with his âfull faceâ on. Enjin sighs, tightening his grip on you and taking the not-so-painless beating youâre dishing out until you reach the nearest city.Â
The very second you both are in a habitable area for breathing, Enjin unceremoniously dumps you to the ground. He catches the mask, yet he leaves you to fall straight on your ass. The fall shocks you but Enjinâs sure whatâs really got you stunned is the strange bustling city surrounding you.
Removing his fullface, Enjin crouches down to eye-level with you. Overwhelmed and overstimulated by the foreign place, your eyes dart around helplessly. Youâre frantic, looking everywhere for some sort of bearing of where you are and avoiding the man in front of you.
Yet Enjin just waits, clicking his tongue and rocking back on his heels, for you to quiet your hysterics enough for him to get a word in.
When your eyes, still wide with panic, finally meet, he has the nerve to raise a browâlike youâre the one being dramatic and not the guy who literally kidnapped you.
âSo, as you may have noticed by nowâŠthis ainât the Sphere,â Enjin says, balancing a cigarette between his lips.Â
You look at him skepticallyâhe says it like itâs nothing, while your world is actively falling apart. What is he even talking about?!
âI know this ainât the welcome wagon you posh Spherites are used to butâŠâ
Enjin pauses, exhaling smoke to the sky. Your gaze follows up, widening once you see the oddly shaped dome covering the city, a strange yellow fog in the atmosphere.
â....welcome to the Abyss, Girlie. Nameâs Enjin.âÂ
Blankly staring at Enjin, you say nothing. The both of you in a mini stare down. Although youâre the first to give by suddenly bursting into sobs.
Rolling his eyes, a thought briefly flashes in Enjin's head that he should have just left you for the raiders. Hell, he could still leave you nowâyouâre calling way too much attention to yourself.
However, Enjin also figures that with you all but swimming in luxury on the Sphere, you probably thought of the Pitâyour so-called Hell, or its inhabitants as mere fairytale.
Enjinâs inkling is confirmed when you calm down enough to piece together that your now ex-husband had hired a bunch of shady tribesmen to kidnap and dispose of youâall to collect your inheritance.Â
Yeah, not your fault. Enjin thinks and cuts you a break.Â
For your own sake, Enjin somehow convinces you to come back to Cleaner HQ with him. He canât return you to the Sphere himselfâbut he knows another Spherite whoâs trying to make their way back. That small glimmer of hope is enough to lift your spirits, just barely. This time, you follow him willinglyâthough you still cry the entire way to HQ.
Shame how prone to hysterics you are, otherwise Enjin actually thinks youâre pretty hot. Noting how the expensive silk of your dress clings so damn well to your every curve. Heâd sell your clothes while you were near the shopping districtâbut unlike Rudo, he doubts he could talk you out of them.Â
At leastânot yet.
But that thought is drastically short lived as Enjin spends more time in your presence. Sure, you could have gotten along. You couldâve even been Enjinâs type. Yet thereâs one glaring problem:Â
Youâre an annoying, needy-ass brat. Â
Besides looks, you tick off nearly every one of his dealbreakers. Youâre ditzy, dependent and whiny. Basically Enjinâs nightmare.
Plus your snobby little ass never once thanked nor apologized to him over the following weeks.
Not after he saved you.
Not after he brought you back to HQ where you were welcomed with skeptical, yet open armsâas a new, very reluctant (you had no other options really) recruit in-training.
And you certainly never thanked Enjin, even after all his shit luck, when he was assigned to be your teacher and look after your haughty ass. You have the most indignant pout on your face when Corvus announces that since Enjin found you, you're Enjinâs problem.
âYou have to be kidding me? Iâm stuck with Trashy Poppins here!?â
âYo, Trashyâwhat!?â The reference doesnât land with Enjin but he knows it isnât good.
Semiu nods curtly in agreement of the pairing, amused that Enjin finally has someone to keep him on his toes as she ushers you off to get settled in.
The fuck?!Â
Lamenting being stuck is supposed to be Enjinâs line. Enjin had figured the logical move was to pair you with Zankaâthe closest thing to nobility among the Cleanersâand let you bond with Rudo, a fellow Spherite, even if he was a tribesman.
But it doesnât take long to realize neither boy can handle a grown ass woman like you. One flutter of your lashes and theyâre useless sapsâlike the big sister he never had, you could soothe Rudoâs worst moods with a mere head pat.Â
While Zanka, older and appreciating your more ârobustâ qualities, trips over his own tongue trying to talk to you.
Both ready to do anything just to earn a few sweet coosâunless someone steps in.
It had to be Enjin. He was the only one who could âresistâ your charms.
Still, Enjinâs got his work cut out for him when it comes to youâespecially training you for combat and figuring out how the hell youâre supposed to use that so-ugly-itâs-almost-cute vital instrument.
He tries not to judge. Really, he does. Jinki are personalâhe knows that better than anyone. But stillâŠthe fact that you even have one? Thatâs wild.
A Spherite? A noble Spherite, no lessâthe same pompous assholes who treat the Abyss like a dumping groundâactually caring enough about something to pump it full of anima?
Yeah, thatâs impressive, heâll give you that. What wasnât though was the name you gave the lil thing: Bubu.
Tsk. Wack as hell. Vital instruments deserve names with some bite. Something likeâUmbreaker.
Still, credit where itâs dueâyouâre picking things up faster than expected.Â
However, that doesnât spare him from your nonstop bitching, though. The complaints come daily: the strange smells your hair absorbs, the absence of your sacred skincare routines, not being able to take a 30 minute shower, and how everything down here always tastes just a little off.
But the most absurd? The cherry blossoms.
You complain the most about not being able to frolic in your lush, petal-covered garden full of rows of cherry blossoms. Enjinâs never even seen a damn tree like that, let alone the acres of grass and flowers you describe like some bedtime fairytale. You haughtily anoint yourself as a floral herbalist, an expert when it comes to your pretty little flowers.
Itâs shit like that on top of everything else that irks Enjin when it comes to you.
And yet?
Enjin thinks the most irritating thing about you is the fact that he canât seem to stay away from you.Â
Sure, youâre annoying as fuckâbut in spite of his own objections, Enjin keeps finding ways to keep your time occupied. He makes up excuses to train you longer and drags you along on missions that are solely meant for him.Â
Moreover, since you can never keep that pretty little mouth shut, anyone you meet clocks you as a Spherite within secondsâwhich means you need Enjinâs constant protection, whether you like it or not.
Enjin ends up spending less time drinking or chasing women, finding a far more amusing pastime insteadâthe way your face twists in indignation every time the Ground doesnât live up to your so-called ânoble standards.âÂ
He gets a kick out of it, really. Agitating you on purpose, just to watch you squirm.
âGoddamnit, Enjin! Watch it!âÂ
Youâd shriek every time your short skirt went flying from a sudden gust of wind heâd whip up with Umbreaker. Enjin saves that lil trick for No Manâs Land when the othersâ backs are turned.
âThatâs Enjin-sensei to you, Princess.âÂ
âChokeâslowly, Trashy Poppins.â
Youâd lunge for his mask like you actually meant to rip it off, but at 6 '3, Enjinâs tall enough that you never have a chance at reaching it. Itâs all worth it tooâEnjinâs already got every pastel scrap of lace you own burned into memory, each one tucked away like a reward for getting under your skin.
Itâs a little sadistic, sureâthe way he taunts you nonstop, delighting in soiling that polished image of yours to grind you into the dirt of the ground right along with him.Â
Thereâs a fire in your eyes every time Enjin dubs you as âYour Royal Trash Princessââor just âTPâ if heâs feeling lazy. You never fail to rise to his bait, eager to prove yourselfâand prove him wrong.
Enjin feels heâs owed a bit of amusement for all his troubles.
Doesnât mean anything.
Yet the more Enjin pushes, the harder it is to ignore that your bratty spark isnât just an attitude problem. Itâs energy. Real, raw passion. The kind that could actually cultivate anima. He sees it best when youâre snapping at him, flushed and defiant, too stubborn to back down.
Itâs trouble to be sure, but fuck if Enjin doesnât love coaxing it out of you.
All it took this time to get you going was him doubting your so-called knowledge of plants and remediesâ âwhat kinda âfloral herbalistâ hasnât toked one?â Â
So now here you are, in the HQ lounge, about to smoke your first joint as a âpre-gameâ to the happy hour Corvus organized for all the Cleaners.
You and Enjin sit shoulder to shoulder on a worn, black quilted-leather sofa thatâs seen better days. The cushions creak as you nervously smooth your skirt and settle in, unhooking your jinkiâBubuâfrom your belt to set her gently on the table.
Enjin rolls a few joints with unhurried precisionâlike heâs got all the time in the world, and watching you squirm is part of the ritual.
âBet ya didnât have anything like this in your lilâ garden, eh TP?â Enjin quips, breaking the silence.
Nose already upturned, your face scrunches as Enjin tosses an extra bud from his stash into your open palms. You hated the nickname âTPâ most of all, too easily mistaken for âtoilet paperâ and Enjin knows that.
You shoot Enjin a dirty look before letting your focus drift back to the brittle sprig in your handsâthe first real plant youâve touched since becoming a Ground-dweller.
You think you actually recognize it.Â
Back on the Sphere, your family was among the wealthiest, and your garden was massive. You took pride in your green thumbâlike Delmon, whose garden youâve been meaning to ask about. You want to help, if only to see what kind of plants can survive in conditions this toxic. But Enjin never gives you the spaceâalways hovering, always cutting in before you can finish a full conversation.
You brush off those thoughts but your frown stays as your fingers trace the budâs dry veins. Even for a dehydrated sample, it feels wrongâbrittle in a way that hints of sickness.Â
âHmm. We had something like thisâI think. But itâs just another weed.â You say shrugging.
âHeh,â Enjin smirks at your cluelessness, âWould you believe me if I told you âweedâ is exactly what we call it, Princess?â
You roll your eyes at the inordinately simple name. It probably has a proper scientific designationâbut expecting Enjin to know it? Please.
âWe always uprooted themâweeds are unsightly in gardens, you know. A weed, let alone one sick as this, would definitely be pruned right away so as to not syphon nutrients from the other plant life.â
âHAH?!â Â
Mid-seal on his joint, Enjin stops cold, staring at you like you just dared to commit some sort of sacrilege before exhaling a theatrical sigh, shaking his head in pure betrayal.
He canât believe Spherities are probably pissing away the dankest shit ever cultivated. The thought was maddening.
When Enjinâs eyes do meet yours again, there's no amusement as he takes a rather chastising tone with you.
âPrincess, for your own good, never repeat that in front of anyone down hereâŠI mean it.â
You huff, but Enjin doesnât blinkâjust starts sealing the joint again, eyes never leaving you as his tongue drags slowly across the edge of the paper.
You squirm, and thatâs all the reward he needs.Â
âSee somethinâ you like?â Enjin drawls, holding the finished joint out toward you like itâs a giftâand not a trap with your name written all over it.
Turning on teacher mode, Enjin decides to school you.
âI know we mostly have âreggieâ down here, but still, itâs worth its weight in gold for its purposes. Not just for fun ya knowâchronic pain, nausea, anxietyâgives a bit of relief from the ailments of Abyss-living you Spherites have so graciously bestowed on us.â
From his pocket, Enjin produces a lighter, shoulders curling as he bows into the flame to set it alight.
Your eyes flick over the sinewy stretch of Enjin arms, the way his jacket strains across his shouldersâreminding you just how solid Enjin really is beneath all that shapeless fabric. Built like a weapon, hiding in plain sight.
You watch as his ringed fingers lift the joint to his lips. Drawing in a slow, steady breath, Enjin sinks back into the sofa like gravityâs got a tighter hold on him than usual. Smoke pools in his chest before slipping out in a long, deliberate exhale.
His gaze follows it, distantâlike heâs chewing on thoughts far heavier than anything you said⊠but somehow still set off by it.
âThatâs the problem with you SpheritesâŠ.you donât see things the way they areâyou see things the way you are.âÂ
Enjin chuffs at his own words, closing his eyes to let his high settle. Not even completely stoned yet and heâs already spouting off pseudo philosophical one-liners.
âEverything else is collateral, amirite?â
Ouch.
Toeing at the floor, you sulk in silence. Wounded from the verbal licks Enjin just dealt you. Mulling over his words in silence though, you know it isnât that simple. Horticulture can be complicated even in the most ideal conditions. Just because a plant is viable doesnât mean it belongs in every gardenâsome plants are just incompatible.
HoweverâŠ
You sit silently, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you study the brittle bud in your palm.
âŠthat doesnât make it worthless.
Instead of exploring any potential use, you tossed the so-called "weed" outâjust like everything else the Sphere deemed useless. Not even considering how valuable it could be. You can see why Enjin wouldn't want you repeating that mistake. Enough people already looked at you with disdain as it is.Â
Sure thereâs a lot of things you miss about it, mostly superficial things that had to do with vanity, but overall life up there was super sterile and dull. Youâd never say it out loud but you are glad you fell, it was hard on the ground but it was liberating.
Sighing, you quietly concede. You hate anytime Enjin actually has a point though. Itâs the worst thing imaginableâfor your pride and for his already unbearable ego.
Cracking an eye open, Enjin curses under his breath. Switching tactics, he decides to replace the long look on his Trash Princessâs face. Annoyance would do just fine. Besides, there was no need for you to pout over it, you actually had a shot at redemption here⊠heh, the kind that might just work out in his favor, too.
âYâknowwwww, weâre always learninâ better ways to grow things down here, faster too...â
Enjin moves so quietly, you donât realize how close he is until you turnâand heâs right in your face, barely a breath away. Swiping his ringed thumb across your cheek, Enjinâs touch is surprisingly tender. However his expression is entirely obnoxious, full of amusement from how fast your pouty little face flusters.
â...could be a nice little hobby that would do alotta goodâŠand if anyone could figure out how to grow this shit properly down hereââ
Enjin plucks at the heat of your warm cheeks, pinching just enough to tease and drag the moment into something more lighthearted.
ââI do believe it could be youâTrash Princess.â
Your eyes catch something deeper than just teasing in his golden gazeâbut before you can dwell on it, instinct kicks in. You jerk back, swatting his hand away, shoving whatever that was out of your mind.
Enjin just laughs, unbothered, as you glare at him.
âAnd why canât you get Delmon to do it?â you counter, arms folding across your chest. By now, youâve learned Enjin usually has an angle for everything.
Right on the mark, for a beat, Enjin actually pauses. He hadnât expected you to bring up the obviousâDelmon, the gentle giant practically martyred to the idea of saving whatâs left of the Abyss. But Enjinâs roguish grin slips back into place, spreading wider as he leans in, unapologetically invading your space.
âWhy? Well...âcause I asked you, Princess. The olâlug has enough on his plate as it is. You can handle it alone, canât ya?â
Truthfully, even knowing your interest in Delmon never strays beyond roots and soil, it still irks every time Enjin catches sight of you with him. You look every bit the nobleâgraceful, composed, eyes soft and curious as you gaze up at Delmon, eager to learn. It grates on Enjin more than heâd admit, knowing heâs never once gotten that look, despite monopolizing most of your time.
âYa knowâunless, your skillset just ainât up tâpar?â Enjin finishes with a shrug.
Wholly unconvinced, you see this for the bait it is from a mile away. Nevertheless, you canât deny that you are eager to get even the tiniest bit of normalcy back in your life from your old hobbies. Planting something, anything, would be niceâeven if it ends up being contraband for Enjin. Although you still arenât quite sure why you canât consult Delmon.Â
âUgh! Fine!â
You fall back onto the sofa and Enjin follows, his arm settling behind you, practically draped around your shoulders. You donât even flinch. He takes another slow hit, smoke curling toward the ceiling, but this time thereâs a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you. Deciding heâs babysat the joint long enough, he leans in with a lazy smirk and holds it out to you.
âEnjinâyour eyes!â You blurt out, disregarding his invitation. âIs that just from smoking!? I canât go to happy hour looking like some kinda zombie!â
Enjin sputters mid-laugh, coughing as wisps of smoke leak from the corners of his smart ass grin.
âEh, well duh. Why else would they get so red when I smoke?â
Enjin coughs out a few more chuckles. You roll your eyes.
âI donât know, Trashy PoppinsâŠI didn't make the connection since the air quality down here is 80% pollution! You could have anything.â
While Enjin is amused by your sass, the joint continues to burn down. Each second unsmoked is wasting precious bud. Leaning in, his voice drops to a low purrâthe kind that makes your stomach flip.
Heh, time to pull out the big guns.
âAht-aht-aht, câmon now, Princess, you know the golden ruleâŠâ
You sigh, thinking you need that happy hour drink more than ever right now.
âYouâre not serious.â
But you know he is, and of course you remember the silly motto Enjin makes an unspoken rule for his team. Although he mostly just uses it to get you to do something youâll usually regret later. You sigh, knowing youâll never make it to happy hour until you appease the big man-child in front of you.
Enjinâs golden eyes shine with even more mischief than before and together like some damn mantra, you both repeat:
â...itâs not peer pressureâitâs just your turn.â
Resigned, you click your tongue, swiping at the joint in his hands. But Enjin is much faster as he pulls back with infuriating speed. You glower at him, snark locked and loaded.
âNah, actually Iâll help you out since itâs your first time, Princess.â
Innuendo coils around his words, heat radiating off him as you tense under his gaze. You donât want to argue with him though, the sooner you smoked, the sooner you both could be at happy hour.
âOpen.âÂ
Enjinâs fingers graze the corner of your mouth as he holds the joint to your peach-glossed lips, eyes darkening when you part them obediently for him.
âNow breathe it in, nice and slowâŠdeeper. Yeah, thatâs itâhold it. Donât let go until I sayâgood girl.â
You want to scoff at him, but you canâtânot with tears stinging your eyes and smoke burning its way down your lungs. By the time Enjin gives you the nod to exhale, youâre already choking, coughing it all back up in ragged plumes.
Yeah, this was nowhere in hell as easy as Enjin made it look.
The buzz rises in your head almost instantly, an airy haze creeping into your consciousness.
âSee? Not a terrible cherry pop, eh?â
The glare you throw at Enjin is more of a squint. Still recovering from the fire tearing down your throat, your coughs earn you a few heavy-handed smacks on the back from Enjin. If itâs out of comfort or mockery, you can't tell.Â
Everything in the room is spinning and becoming more distant, like a daydream.
âEasy there, breatheâitâll hit easier when ya figure out how to grow it right, Princess. The dank shit wonât burn this hard.â
You want to bite back that even if you do figure out how to grow the damn âweedâ plant, youâd never touch it again. But the sudden heaviness seeping into your limbs drags you down, tilting your head on the axis of equilibrium.
âI think, noâI know, I need to lay down.â
Not waiting for permission, you flop down onto the worn cushions beneath you, curling up awkwardly with your head leaning against the armrest and your legs dangling off the seat at an angle.Â
Enjin doesnât miss a beat thoughâhe scoops your legs into his lap, tugging off your boots so you can be comfortable.
Leaning back, perfectly at ease, Enjin holds the joint in one hand while the other rests on your stocking-covered shin, giving it a casual, reassuring pat. The way your arm drapes over your face tells him everythingâyeah, youâve got the spins.
âKeh, youâll make it, Princess. Just let it all ride out.â
Youâd make it alright, but not to happy hour anytime soon. Enjin supposes he mightâve let you take a bigger hit than you were ready for.Â
Whoops.
Silence stretches in the aftermath but itâs not uncomfortable. Enjin takes a few more lazy tokes, one golden eye cracked open just enough to watch you, taking stock of your state.Â
Itâs in moments like thisârare ones, when youâre quietâthat he remembers just how fucking smoking hot you are.
Especially in that Cleaner uniform. Man, God bless August.
The eccentric tailor took special care in designing it thanks to a sudden burst of inspirationâAugust even convinced Enjin to allow him to keep some of the trim from your Spherite clothes that he repurposes. The outcome of your uniform is shinier, more fitted and much sluttier than standard issue.Â
You took to it immediately, without much fuss and actually complimenting August. That was Augustâs gift thoughâwhipping up pieces to suit even the finickiest of tastesâand Enjin had to admit, the man did his big one.Â
But the real surprise wasnât the craftsmanship. It was youâhis oh-so-prim little Trash Princessâstrutting around in something so damn naughty. Dressed up like a treat that Enjin canât help but eat up with his eyes.
And whaddya know? Enjin has the munchies bad right now.
Left to his own devices, Enjin takes his time devouring the sight in front of him. His gaze lingers down the length of your legs sprawled across his lap, to the soft, exposed flesh of your thighsâspilling over the edge of your stockings just enough to make his jaw clench.
Fuck, they look so soft. He can't help but wonder how they'd feel locked around his head as his eyes climb to the next indulgenceâyour crop top. Rucked up to your ribs, the thin white cotton hugs just beneath your tits. Shit, the way your cute little nips poke through the fabric makes his mouth twitch with the urge to say âhiâ right backâwith his tongue.
Is it hotter in here, orâ?
Leering at you for too long is a surefire way for Enjin to pop a boner. Enjin knows heâs not alone in that either. That uniform of yours turns heads in every city you pass through. Consequently, Enjin has split more skulls because of idiots trying to hit on you or cop a feel than he ever has for anyone trying to snatch a Spherite.
Not that heâs jealous or nothing.
Nah. Just doing his job. Watching out for you. Plenty of unscrupulous assholes out there willing to pounce on a clueless little thing like you.
However, right now, Enjinâs just as unscrupulousââwatching outâ only for a flash of your panties as each restless wiggle sinks you deeper into the lumpy cushions, bunching your skirt higher and teasing him with a glimpse of skimpy lace.
Man, just a little more and heâd know exactly which pair you picked today.
Sobering up a bit more, you sigh at your inability to get comfortable when you could feel the very springs in the sofa. Stretching, you straighten your leg suddenly andâ
âYo! Watch the feets, girl!â Â
Though thereâs amusement in his voice as he jolts upright, tatted hands grabbing your ankle before youâre able to land another blow.
âAh, sorryââ You mutter sheepishly, reeling back your foot. âI didnât mean to kick Umbreaker.â
For what itâs worth, the apology comes quicklyâyouâve learned better than to mess with a manâs jinki, especially Enjinâs. You've nearly tripped more times than you can count over that bulky extension of himself that he always keeps within reach.
You know itâs serious too when he doesnât even bother with the stupid nicknames he usually calls you. Nevertheless, youâre left puzzled when Enjinâs laughter comes out loud and sharp.Â
â...that wasnât Umbreaker, Princess.â
Huh? What does he mean that isnâtâÂ
You freeze.Â
Carefully peeking out from under your arm, your reddened eyes squint down the length of your body and onto his. When the realization does set in of what exactly you kicked, it smacks you harder than any hit of ganja ever could.
âOâŠohâŠâOH MY GAWD!â
Immediately springing upright, your vertigo swirls with how fast youâre scrambling to your knees as you gawk.
Time passes for what seems like a solid minute or two and neither of you speak.Â
Youâre staring at the crotch of Enjinâs baggy pants and Enjin is staring at you.
âHeh.â
The devious look on Enjinâs face right now could shame the devil himself. Yet youâre still in utter disbelief.
Thereâs no way thatâs his dick!
Still, your brain wonât stop running the numbersâhigh girl math with clumsy calculations drawn from the fleeting brush of your toes against the long, thick mass hidden beneath the fabric of his baggy pants. Enjinâs words ring in your mind like a gongââthat wasnât UmbreakerâŠâ
âYouâre burninâ a hole through my dick, Princessââ
Enjinâs voice unfurls seductively, like the smoke curling from his lips.
ââkeep starinâ like that and Iâm gonna think you wanna see it.â
Your eyes meet his dead-on.Â
âI do.â
âYeah, Iâm sure yoâwait, come again?!â
Enjinâs grip goes slack, the joint slipping from his fingers. He was halfway to some sassy quip, ready to taunt your denialâbut your delivery is so honest, with no teasing or angle to play off, he doesnât know what to do with it.
The embers hiss against his thigh before he even registers he dropped it.
âTch.â Cursing under his breath, he flicks it asideâitâs all roach anywayâand tries to pull himself back together.
Youâre fucking with him. Yeah. Thatâs it.Â
Smug again, Enjin leans into the bit you started.
âHa haâŠright. I know my stuck up lilâ Trash Princess isnât asking to give me a dick inspectionâŠâ
Enjin adjusts his pants in a casual sweep that doesnât fool either of you. Heâs not brushing off the remaining flakes of ashâheâs palming his restless cock that jumped at the idea of you actually wanting to see it.
But both you and Enjin would quickly discover, despite your snobby Spherite upbringing, you lose any type of filter and sense of couth while highâblurting out your thoughts unabashedly.Â
âI said I wanted to see it, Trashy Poppins. Or mânot gonna believe youâre actually that big.â
You fold your arms, huffing stubbornly.
There was no way an unbearably annoying man like Enjin was slanging actual horse cock!Â
He had to be the one fucking with you here.
Well, wait, noâa cocky, stupidly sexy man having a big dick actually tracks, now that you think about it.
But stillâyou need to verify. For science, if nothing else.Â
Yeah. Science.
Enjin blinks, taking stock of youâkneeling close, your tits straining like theyâre about to burst free, and your skirt rides so high on your thighs this time, he swears one more millimeter and heâd see your panties for real.Â
âCâmon nowâŠâ
Your sickly sweet coos needle at Enjinâs spine.
â...as if you arenât always upskirting me just to see my panties.â
Shit. You knew it was intentional?
âAt least you can show me your undies for a change. If youâre really that big, then Iâll be able to tell.â
The spark alight in your eyes is a challenge to Enjin, who loves pushing your limits. Now he needs to know how far youâll go. Even if heâs completely unprepared for this turn of events, heâs sure as fuck not gonna be the one backing down first.
âSâthat right, Princess? Well, I havenât even seen yours today soââ
Enjin doesnât even get the chance to finish before youâre lifting your skirt and spreading your knees wider. You stare up at the ceiling, the popcorn squares suddenly appearing super interesting to you. Enjinâs eyes however immediately zero-in on the pink lace stretched tight across your pussy.
Christ.
With a much closer view, Enjin picks up all the little details he usually missesâlike how the hem digs into your soft curves or how the material is thin enough to see the split of your chubby lil pussy lips pressed underneath.Â
Goddamn, are you intentionally buying them a size too small?Â
Or is your pussy print just that fat?
Enjin gulps, mouth dry.Â
His attention caught like a hook to your cunt, everything else is unimportantâincluding the irony of how he was just teasing you for the very same thingâitâs all utterly lost on him. His priorities shifting rapidly the longer he ogles you.
After a minute, giving him quite frankly more of his fill than he deserves, you let your skirt drop back into place. The alluring spell of your fatma breaks when your knees snap shut and Enjin is yanked back to a world that doesnât exist between the apex of your doughy thighs.Â
All of his lecherous starring is worth it thoughâif only to be able to throw his own saying back at him for once.
âNow, howâs it go again? Itâs not peer pressuââ
ââYeah, yeah, I got it, PrincessâMy turn.âÂ
Enjin relents, cutting you off with a twisted grin as he shakes his head.
âYa donât gotta break my arm to see my dick, babe. Just makinâ sure youâre sure. Donât need you runninâ off telling Semiu I flashed ya.â
Semiu is already on Enjinâs ass for teasing you as much as he does. Something about him being âtoo grownâ not to ânut upâ and âcome to terms with his realityâ, but Enjin was never listening for long, zoning out as soon as a new lecture was underway.Â
However, if your prissy ass really wants to see his dick that bad, of course heâd oblige. Hell, Enjin would get another kick outta watching your horror when you realize for real just how much heâs packing. It had been a minute since he'd seen that look on a woman.
For being as hot and charming as he is, Enjin didnât get nearly as much play as he shouldâve. He isnât a virgin by any means, but too many women take one glance at his size and back off expeditiously. Â
Life on the ground meant hustling to survive for most. Nobody could afford to be laid up for days just because Enjinâs wrecking ball of a cock tore through their walls, rendering them unable to walkâlet alone go to work.
Yet with a clink, that all changes as the leather strap of his belt and gear slides free. Enjin lifts his hips enough to shove his pants down past his thighs and there it isâshort red boxer briefs with a black waistband, the fabric stretched thin over the obscenely long, thick outline of his dick resting along his thigh.
Simply put, your jaw drops. Thereâs a static-like silence buzzing in your mind as you process the monstrous mass of phallic muscle before you.
Youâve never seen a dick that huge in your entire life.Â
Clocking your shock, Enjinâs chest puffs like heâs just been crowned a king in the room.
âRelax, PrincessâŠâ he drawls, smugness saturating every word.
âI ainât even all the way hard yet.â
Bullshit!Â
Your eyes pingpong between his face and his cock before landing on the obvious conclusionâno overthinking this time.
âWhat are you waiting for then? Get hard.â
Enjin actually chokes for real this time, still not used to how blunt his demure lilâ Trash Princess gets when sheâs high. He manages to laugh regardless once he finds his breath as he sure as hell doesnât hate this new side of you.
âHah?! It doesnât work like that ya knowâŠâ
Enjin lies right through his fucking teeth.Â
Just hearing that vulgar command from your prissy lilâ lips has his blood surging south, his cock swelling at rapid speed. Already on go, his dickprint thickens, straining against the fabric until threads stretch thin to form almost obscenely over him like second skin.
Yet unlike his past hookups you donât flinch at the sight of him getting even bigger.Â
Thereâs more than enough incredulousness on your face for sure, but Enjin half expected you to backpedal for the sake of your pussyâs self-preservation and book it out the door. Instead, the look youâre giving his dick is more akin to awe than fear.
Truly, thoughâyou are in awe.
Men werenât like this on the Sphere. Well, your husband certainly wasnât.
Older than you by over a decade, your husbandâs stamina was so poor he never lasted long. His size, his endurance, and his dismissive comments about your sexual appetite being perversely unbecoming for a lady of your station had you wondering if something was wrong with you this entire timeâif you expected too much from sex.
But when your eyes drift back to Enjinâcatching the thick vein running along his length, visible even through the fabricâyou know better now.Â
It was never you.
The realization brings a surge of boldness. Your gaze trails the pulse of his cock down to the wet patch blooming at the tipâso much pre spilling it seeps through the fabric.Â
Enjin inhales sharply through his nose. He knows heâs proven his size, but your silence and the way youâre eyeing his cock like some kind of museum exhibit is starting to get to him.Â
Enjin doesnât want to back down as he impatiently waits for your final verdict of approval. But if you keep staring at him like that, with those big pretty eyes of yours, heâs going to come in his pants, untouched, like some fucking cuck.
âWell, Princess? Big enough for ya?â
You donât even hear Enjin, too lost in your own thoughts. Your body, buzzed and reckless, has a mind of its own though. Reaching out, your hand leaves your lap to trace the thick ridges of his cock, mapping its shape through his briefs.Â
âOh, shiiiiââ Enjin hisses.Â
His lip catches between his teeth as all thoughts vanish the moment your delicate little fingers start stroking him.
âArghâfuck. Canât jusâ go grabbing a manâs dick like that ya know.â
Yet Enjin does nothing to stop you as your touch grows bolder. Your palm flattens around his girthâtoo thick for even your whole hand to wrap around, even through his boxers.
How would someone even get something that monstrous inside them!?
Encircling his leaky cockhead, you giggle as your index finger slowly tap-tap-taps the mess heâs made there, amused at how many of the small, sticky suds you can gather on your finger through the material.
Enjinâs own laugh is strangled. This canât be real.
Youâre unfazed by Enjinâs provocations â too mesmerized by the obscenely large cock in front of you that has you squirming uncomfortably as your own panties turn swampy with heat.Â
âMay I?â
Meeting Enjinâs gaze, your polite innocence is accented by a wide-eyed pout thatâs far too sweet for the filthy implications of your request. Like youâre nicely asking permission to play with your favorite toyâexcept you donât even wait for him to give it,fingers impatiently snapping the edges of his waistband like some cockhungry slut.Â
âUhâŠâ Enjin blanks while his dick is practically screaming at him to respondâeven a damned head nod would suffice. Yet his brain blue-screens as it registers that lookâthe normally innocent, curiosity filled look that he's been craving since he found you in No Man's Landânow twisted into something debased and filthy. And best of all?
Meant just for him.
Enjinâs so fucking hard right now itâs painfulâand hell, if youâre planning to do something about that, heâs not about to stop you.
âKeh. Do you, boo.â
Enjin manspreads, giving you full access. You eagerly pull down his shorts just enough to release his cock, and it springs free, thick and heavy.Â
Good God, heâs a big boy!Â
Although you knew that, seeing the monster in all of its unleashed glory was an entirely different experience. Enjinâs dick bobs back to curve towards his abs, a shiny pubic piercing shining at his base under its shadow.
Panting, your previously dormant inner size queen activates. You have to swallow down the bucket of saliva collecting on your tongue before you chokeâyou canât help but salivate at the thought of what a huge cock like this tastes like⊠what it feels like.Â
Youâre pretty sure it could break you in two, and surprisingly, the thought excites you.
Lowering yourself on all fours, the first tentative lick you give Enjinâs length has his toes curling as he grips the sofa, ripping a chunk clean off the decaying material.Â
You moan out a depraved 'ahhh' once you reach the top, a little smile playing on your lips as you tongue down the hole at his tip. Greedily, you lap up all the little dribbles of pre beading at the tip and flowing out.
âW-Woaaahâugh. FUCK!â
Enjinâs hand flies into your hair as he clears his throat. Sure, your mouthwatering stares made a blowie likely, but diving in this shamelessly? Itâs enough to make him feel like heâs losing his damn mind.
You grip his baseâan insurance policy to keep him from cummingâwhile your other hand cups his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. His thigh jolts beneath you and you simper at how sensitive he is despite his massive size.
âT-Thereâs no way in hell they taught your prissy ass how to be this much of a slut up there.â
Pouting, you release his balls to cradle his cockhead against your puffed up cheek, uncaring of the amount of pre seeping across your jaw.Â
âD-DoâŠdo you hate it? My husâum, ex said it was a turn off. H-he'd say I have 'the depravity of a slums streetwalker.â
Staring up at Enjin, your eyes are clouded with lust, yet edged with worryâlike heâd threatened to rip something precious away. But itâs only his cock youâre coddling tighter against your cheek, your lips parting just enough to chase the beads of pre that drip close to your mouth.
If you werenât gripping Enjinâs base so hard he definitely would have blown a load all over your face. Fuck, if the thought isnât tempting to him though â he doesnât think youâd even mind in this state. Â
Goddamn, youâre so much sluttier than Enjin could have ever imagined.Â
And heâd imagined it plenty.Â
Especially on nights Enjin stumbled back to HQ drunk and alone, having closed down the bar with Corvus and Gris. Left to sate his own booze-fueled boner, heâd shamelessly rut into his pillow. Yet, no matter where his perversions strayed, every faceless fantasy in the dark insisted on transmuting into you.Â
You seriously think he couldnât match your freak?Â
Oh, sweetheart, you have no fucking idea.
âHate it?âÂ
Enjin holds back the growl building at the back of his throat. Thereâs a torrent of thoughts swirling with his high all at onceâall coming to settle right back into his dick.Â
âNever. Show me who you really are, Princessânâ Iâll give it right back to ya tenfoldâthatâs a promise.â
If you werenât already trembling with arousalâfinally free to let your freak flag flyâyou mightâve shied away. Enjinâs easy acceptance of you stirs something deeper, something messy that you usually ignore before it can settle. Now, with his scent thick on your face and tongue, youâre not thinking at allâaching with the urge to all but inhale his cock.
You merely nod, flashing Enjin a coy smile before stretching your plush lips to wrap around him. Slowly, you swallow down his girth, mouth hot with suction so deliciously moist Enjinâs hips jerk up. You gag, but his firm grip on your roots keeps your head in place, forcing his length to breach your throat.
âThatâs it, babyâŠopen up f-fâer meâg-good fucking girl, PrincessâŠâ
Tears prick at your eyes as his cock pounds back of your throat. The stretch is brutalâbut some desperate part of you craves more of his filthy praise. What you canât take with your mouth, your hands make up forâstroking every thick inch your lips canât swallow.
âShiiiit, girl! Youâre a pro at this.â
If you ask Enjin later, heâd probably call you a throat goat, however most of your âexperienceâ came from the smutty paperbacks high-society wives hid in corsets and swapped under tea tablesânot actual practice. You donât really know what you are doing. Youâre just following the book's explicit instructions.Â
Still, Enjin doesnât seem to mind being your test dummy.Â
On the contrary, Enjin is more than happy to let you do your thing and he does just that. Although, the longer your head bobs along his cock, the more your skirt rides upâuntil it finally flips over your hips, giving him a perfect view of the cheeky lace framing your ass.
Enjin groans, gripping your ass with bruising force before sliding his fingers down to palm your pussy over your pantiesâfuck, youâre already dripping for him.
âHahâuppity cunt gets this sloppy just from a lilâ dick sucking, eh?â
Enjin laughs, yet the gravel rattling in his voice betrays him. No one has ever fearlessly tried to deepthroat him and actually fucking enjoyed it.Â
Unable to respond with your mouth, too busy still trying to do the impossible and fit more inside your throat, your hips respond insteadâwiggling desperately against his fingers, begging for more of his touch.Â
Enjin doesnât hesitate. Slipping a tatted finger into your panties, he drags it through your folds, marveling at how wet and scorching you are. Pushing into your core, your walls clamp down, fluttering around his digit.
Oh fuck, even his fingers are big!Â
A second ringed finger follows â the rough, callous fingers of a man who's seen too many fights scrape so good against all your gooey spots. Lewd squelches echo from your pussy as your throat tightens around him in tandem. The sounds, the squeeze, the heatâall of it is driving him crazy.
Shit heâs gonna cum for real this time.Â
To his credit, Enjin tries to warn youâtries to pull you off before itâs too late.Â
He doesnât wanna risk pissing you off and having you refuse to ever do this again. Enjin still wants to fool around more;, he wants to fuck you. Itâs that thoughtâyour pretty pussy lips splitting open to swallow him insteadâthat has him busting his hot seed down your throat in thick, hot pulses.
âHAHHâFUHH!â
Releasing your hair, Enjin half expects you to pull away, furious he hadnât warned you. Instead, your nails dig into his thigh, steadying yourself. You moan around him, the vibrations rippling through his sensitive cock while you work him for every last drop, his hips jerking beneath you.
Only when youâre certain youâve drained him do you pull back, swollen lips coming off his cock with a wet pop.Â
âAllll go-neee S-Sheee? HAhhhhh~âĄâ
Tits jiggling as you heave for air, you present your tongue to Enjin as proof youâve swallowed all of him. Every. Filthy. Drop.
You canât help but agreeâyour throatâs wrecked and your pussyâs aching to be used just as thoroughly. Enjinâs fingers arenât inside you any more, although they are still on your pussy, running through your folds absentmindedly. Â
âNghân-eed m-more,â you slur.
All your decorum was lost to the wind the moment you asked to see his dickâyou donât even care that itâs Enjin of all people that you just gave head to. Suddenly, the obnoxious pain in your ass seems like your only deliverance. Right now, you're more frustrated that you've spent so much time bickering with him when you could have been fucking him.
You much prefer his moans to anything else coming out of his mouth.
You need him to get hard againâimmediately!
Enjin, mind mushy with release, takes another joint out to light. As much as he wants to return the favor after that kind of sloppy top, the man needs a minute. His high has his whole body tingling from the post release sensitivity.
But you canât wait any longer. Itâs been god knows how long since youâve had a proper orgasm and those were only from your own small, fumbling fingers. Throat achy and raw, you quiver at the masochistic thought of how his cock is going to absolutely obliterate your pussy.
You slide your panties down before flinging off your jacket and top. Taking a seat on Enjin's lap, you're now clad in just your bra, your skirt that's bunched up at your hips, and thigh highs. Grabbing his cock, you give his soggy, half-hard girth a few encouraging pumps.
Your pussy is already slobbering, a viscous string of syrupy slick drips down from your slit to land on his cockhead, connecting you to him as you line him up.Â
Feeling your fingers around his length, Enjin's eyes fly open, balancing the joint between his lips as he quickly shrugs off his own jacket, checking the pockets.
âWoah, woah. Slow your roll there sweetheartâyouâre skipping a few steps.â
You arenât listening though, not giving a fuck what Enjin is talking about as you cry out, grinding your clit against his fat tip, before running it back through your folds.
Enjin grits his teeth, coughing out smoke as he holds the joint in one hand and your hips in the other. Youâre being a brat again, not listening to a single word heâs saying.Â
âGotta find my rubbersâŠalso gotta stretch you out better, Princessâyouâre gonna split in two if I donât.â
You whimper, petulant and needy. You press his cockhead against your entrance, swiveling your hips like youâre going to recklessly sink down on him at any second.
âHuh? Rubbers?â You shake your head in confusion, pouting. âmâEnnnnjiiiiinâŠI canât wait that longâpuh-leaseee donât make me wait sâlong, Enjiiiiin. I can take it, promiseee!â
The way you sweetly coo his name is shattering any sense of self-control Enjin has left. The urge to submit you to the ultimate corruption surges hot through his veins, but Enjin knows how big he is and while he did want to break you, he didnât want to hurt you in the process. You are absolutely nuts to want to ride him with so little prepânow, on top of everything else, you apparently wanted him to fuck you raw.
Waitâdid you just ask what rubbers were? Did you not have condoms on the Sphere?
But any lingering concerns dissipate the second you start fighting to get his tip inside you.
âToo s-slow!â You groan.
Fear is the last thing on your mindâevident in the way you impale yourself on him, defiant even against the impossible stretch. Your pussy is tight around the swollen head of his cock, strangling it as your nails dig into his shoulders. You grind in slow, desperate circles. Tears roll down your cheeks as you bite them to keep from crying out, your body fighting against every inch.
Enjin watches with a dark glint in his eyes â you trying so hard for him makes him want to flip you over and fuck you into the cushions. But heâd let you have it at your own paceâŠfor now.Â
Releasing your hip, Enjin spits into his palm, rubbing his slick fingers over your clit in slow steady circles.Â
âSuch a hard-headed girlâcâmereâŠâ
Enjin takes a long drag from the joint, balancing it between his fingers as he grabs the back of your neck. His lips crash into yours before you can think.
You gasp and Enjin takes the opportunity to exhale the smoke deep into your lungs, taking the harshest of the hit himself. You're left with only the smooth, earthy flavor warming your chest before it melts through your limbs.
But itâs the way he kisses you after that really knocks the ground out from under you. His tongue pushes past your lips, tangling with yoursâhungry, messy, like he wants to steal the little air you have left until youâre only breathing him in.
Your arms wrap around his neck, hands buried in his soft buzzed undercut, anchoring yourself. You moan into his mouth and he swallows it greedily, teeth nipping your lower lip before diving right back in. All the while, his thumb keeps grinding into your clit, faster now, like heâs keeping rhythm with the pulse thatâs beating under your skin.
Why does it feel this good? How is he doing this to your body? Sânot fair!Â
Not realizing you could feel this good from a kiss, you're unraveling in real time. Your mind goes blank with every pulse, every word, every inch. Youâre not even fully seated yet, but you can already feel the blunt head of his cock grinding against your cervix, the pressure building with each centimeter you drop. You never imagined you could feel this fullâlike he might actually breach your womb.
The thought alone has you trembling, unstable, your aching thighs giving out, causing you to slide down a bit too fast. The thick veins along his length rake across your g-spot and your body snaps. A sharp, helpless spasm rocks you as your breath catches and a small, unexpected orgasm rolls through you.
Enjin pulls back just enough to let you breathe, though your body doesnât stop shivering, lost in a blur of pleasure and pain.
âEh... did you just cum, Princess?â
The question is rhetorical, full of smug amusement, as he can feel the increasing wetness leaking down his cock, making it all the easier for you to slide down.   Â
Teasing your earlobe, Enjinâs tongue dips in to flick at the shell of it, making you clench.
âHA! Good fucking girl! A lilâ more and I bet sheâll be a real squirter fâer me.â
Enjin beams, proud of his Trash Princess. No woman had ever taken him this deepânot even close. Enjin hadnât expected you to be any different. And yetâŠwhen Enjin looks down, he releases a groan deep from his gut.
The sight alone almost has Enjin nutting in you -- your drooling cunt spread so wide around his girth, sitting almost at his base. A thought flashes briefly â it's kinda like heâs a virgin again. Parts of his dick had never experienced this kind of molten heat so maybe, in a sense, he is? Enjin didnât fucking care if he was though, as he ainât about to be with the way your pretty pussy is giving way like itâs made for him.Â
âRun that back.â
Enjin takes the final drag, pinching the smoldering end of the joint between his fingers before flicking it aside. He leans in again, slower this time. Thereâs no rush in how his mouth seals over yours. The second shotgun is less about the smoke and more about the feel of youâyour lips parting for him, your breath syncing to his, and the small whimper you make as he sucks slowly on your tongue.
The haze spreads between you both, thick and warm. Simultaneously, his knuckles tease your clit, a soft schlick sound filling the space between you from you getting wetter by the second. By the strength of some unknown force, you finally bottom out, immediately collapsing into his neck.Â
You both moan. Enjin feels you quivering from the inside out and you feel him everywhereâshifting your guts into your ribs.Â
âIâŠI did it.â
Your smile blooms soft against his inked skin, lips grazing the spot where you can feel his own pulse hammering wildly.
Enjinâs in no state to congratulate you on your impressive feat. Completely sheathed in you raw, coring out your gummy walls into the shape of his dickâsomething in his brain chemistry fizzles. Like a bit of pussy juice, acting as a catalyst, slipped into his dick and traveled straight to his prefrontal cortex to corrode all of his previous thoughts about you. The result is clear.
Enjin doesnât give a fuck if you are a snobby, annoying, needy lilâ brat who never let him get away with shit and bitches at him constantlyâthe furtherest thing from his type.
Because honestly?
Motherfuck a bullshit-ass type. Your slutty ass pussy is fuckinâ perfect.Â
For the first time, Enjin realizes he might be in love with you.Â
How could he even look at another woman after this?
One thing if for certainâEnjin is going to make damn sure you never have the desire to even look at another man.
Both his hands trail up your hips, groping and squeezing the plump curves of your ass before settling at your waist. His blunt black nails dig into your skin to pull you back from his neck.
Enjin whistles, admiring the stagnant stream of spittle lingering on your chin. Look at youâcockdrunk just from sitting on him.Â
Enjin doesnât think heâs ever seen you look more beautiful.
âEnjiiiiiin,â you whimper, not being able to hold yourself up.Â
But your cries for him only inflame the predatory smirk on his lips, your honeyed cunt hugging his cock so beautifully.Â
âMakes sense you fell from heaven, huh Princess?âÂ
Whether you're ready or not, Enjin forcibly winds you on his cock in slow circles. Your clit brushes up against the well placed pubic ring like a reward for being the first to experience it.
ââcause this pussyâs a fuckinâ angel.â
Your eyes are already lodged in your skull so you canât even roll them at his cheesy line. But if your pussy is an angel, then Enjin's dick is most definitely a demonâhis sinful cock tearing through your insides and condemning you straight to hell.
Moaning loudly, your body moves on autopilotâchasing more friction from the rhythm Enjin set. Good thing everyone was at happy hour or you would for sure be attracting some major attention now.
Although, to be honest you probably wouldnât notice anyway. You donât even notice when your bra falls away, your tits spilling out just so Enjin could watch them jiggle in his face. You only register its disappearance once his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, his tongue finally saying itâs âhelloâ.
âShiiiiit!â
Your hips stutter, then stall when Enjin tugs at your sensitive bud with his teeth.
âHeyâŠI know my Trash Princess ainât tappinâ out just yet.âÂ
SMACK!
Enjin brings a heavy palm down on your ass and your pussy clenches tighter around him. Enjin relishes the way your plush curves mold to his hands, each smack adding to the wet, messy sounds between you. Youâve already leaked enough on his lap to stain the sofa beneath you.
âNah, ya just got on the ride, baby. Giddy-up.â
SMACK!
âNNNGH!â You weakly glare daggers at him.Â
Any softness on Enjinâs face has since been replaced by something far more mischievous. If you thought he was obnoxious beforeâyouâre about to learn heâs a full-blown menace inside of pussy.
Wobbling, you gather together what little resolve you have left to roll your hips forward.Â
âHAAH! Sâtoo biiiiiig,â you whine but your body canât stop.
The juices saturated between you grant enough momentum to finally get a good, smooth bounce going.
âFuckâthatâs it, ride it like itâs yours, baby.â Enjin encourages you.
The way you cream harder every time he calls you 'baby' doesn't go unnoticed.
âOh? You like me talking sweet to the pussy, baby girl?âOr do you just like being my filthy lilâ trash slut, hm Princess?â
Gritting your teeth, you grab on to Enjinâs shirt like reins, pulling him closer to you.Â
âY-YouâreâŠgonnaâahshiiiitâhafta f-fuck mâbetter than thisssâŠif you want m-me to be your âbaby girlââTrash Daddy.â
Unfortunately, your sass falls flatâyou can barely keep your head from lulling to the side. But Enjinâs thoroughly entertained nonethelessâheâll take âTrash Daddyâ over âTrashy Poppinsâ any day.
âBet.â
Electricity runs through Enjin. Heâs all charged upânow itâs his turn to unleash.
Your brow furrows from the noise Enjin makesâyouâre not sure if he just laughed or snarled. But it's the only warning you get.Â
Sliding down the sofa a bit, adjusting himself for stability, Enjin spreads his legs, planting his feet firmly on the floor as he bullies his cock up into you like he's breaking in his own personal fleshlight.
All you can do is go slack, falling forward on his chest. His grip bruising your hips, not allowing you to run from the way his blunt cockhead plows into your womb like a battering ram.Â
The couch beneath you groans, its frame creaking under the strain. The wood and leather protest like the entire thing might fall apart at any moment.
âEnjinnnnn, mâslowwww dowwwnnn!âÂ
Your cries only fuel his frenzy and Enjin knows from the way youâre gushing on him you can take it.
Fuckâthis sweet lilâ pussy is just so good for him. Imagine if he never met you.Â
If you neverâ
Enjin cuts the thought off cold.Â
Moving before you can blinkâyour world flips. One second heâs pummeling up into you, the next youâre on your back.Â
Enjin peels away his shirt, muscles flexing as he looms over you. His hands curl around your ankles to keep them pinned overhead. A single bead of sweat catches your bleary eyes as it slides down his bare chest, gliding over firm muscle. The bold ink patterns seem to come alive on his skin. He looks so fucking sexy right now and you canât help but to shamelessly ogle him.
Yet, thereâs something much too serious and somber about Enjinâs current demeanor. Youâve been staring at him far too long to go unnoticed. The highly expressive, sassy powerhouse is rarely this silent. He should be teasing you right now, asking some smartass shit like if youâre âenjoying the viewâ.Â
âEnjin?â
Your sweet voice hits his ears and instantly you have his attention again. Enjin flashes you a pearly white smile.
âHeh, enjoy the break, Princess? You wont get another.â
Ignoring the question in your eyes, Enjin folds you into a mating press, thrusting to the hilt all in one motion. The sound of flesh lewdly slapping against flesh fills the room, as do your cries.
But thereâs still something else burning in his eyes. Enjin knows itâs unfair not to be honest with you, but taking out his unspoken feelings on your pretty pussy is the only way he can express himself at the moment.Â
Suddenly, thereâs a loud creak followed by a decisive snap and two of the sofaâs legs give out. If your sweat and cum weren't like glue on the old leather youâd surely slide off head first. You yell out in alarm, but Enjin doesnât give a fuck about the damn sofa.
His mood is still soured by the thought that wouldnât be shaken away until he confronted itâ
If you never fell.
But you did. He found youâand now that Enjin has you under him like this, he needs to fuck the point heâs concluded into you:
If Rudo ever finds a way to the Sphere, Enjin will personally travel there and see to your ex-husband himself.Â
Hell, he might even rail you in front of him a few timesâshow him what a real man could do. Maybe even a realâŠhusband?
If the sounds of sloshing fluids and skin slapping skin weren't ringing so loudly in your ears that it drowned out everything else, you would have thought Enjin had lost his mind with the way he was cackling above you. He sounds completely deranged, laughing at the idea of him finally wanting to settle down all while continuing to pound you deeper into the broken sofa.
But despite being high off weed and your pussy, Enjinâs mind has never been more clearâhe wants to lock you down.
âHah⊠P-Princess, can ya feel me in your tummy? RightâŠâ Enjinâs golden eyes lock on the ever-so-slightly distended bulge from the monstrous intrusion in your guts.
â....right, here.âÂ
Throwing your legs over his shoulders, his large hands splay across your sweat sheened belly. Youâre squirming under the heat of Enjin sandwiching your guts between his palm and his cock. Its all far too muchâyouâre too full, unable to really focus on what Enjinâs saying.
âAhh, E-Enjâmâ c-cum, g-gonna mmmâŠâ you hiccup, swallowing your tears.
Your nails rake down his arm to ground yourself but your body is thrumming too hard, adrift in the rush rolling through every one of your wired nerves. Your tits bounce obscenely every time your velvety walls devour his cock back down to the base. Enjinâs pubic piercing bucking against your clit has you clutching onto his dick like you were about to break it off.
You feel so fucking good. Enjin desperately needs to feel you creaming on his cock, and you would be soon if your kitten nails raking down his armsâ adding more red to his already inked skinâ were any indication.Â
âThatâs it, Princess, hahâfuck, baby, I got you. Squirt for your Trash Daddy.â
As if on command, the knot inside you coils to its breaking point, prickling every nerve, releasing a warm rush of fluids. Your body tingling in ecstasy, you quickly tumble over your peak, eyes blinded by speckles of brightness as you cum.
Yet Enjin hasn't slowed, his continuous pounding forcing more of your cum and squirt to gush out of youâthe melody of his now drenched balls colliding with your wet ass only growing loude
âFuck, thatâs it. Pussy cryinâ like she wants my cum, PrincessâŠâÂ
Youâre barely conscious from all the pleasure, eyes rolling back into your head.Â
âSheâs jealous that slutty throat of yours got all my cum, now itâs her turn to swallow, isnât that right?â
Itâs a rather roundabout way for Enjin to ask if he can nut inside you, but then again, he wasnât really asking. The thought of breeding you makes him feral.Â
âAhhâfânnghhhh!â
Non-verbal and fucked dumb, youâd probably agree to anything right now. Youâre an utter messâpussy stretched beyond anything you thought possible, face sticky with slobber rolling down to pool in the folds of your neck.Â
âOâcourse it isâŠgonna dump all these trash babies into my princessâ sweet lilâ cunt.â
Although you are super turned on by the thought of Enjin breeding you, there's no way you have any idea how serious Enjin is about putting a baby in you. How could you? You donât even realize the love confession his cock is professing to you.
âFUHHHHâtake it!â
Enjin pumps thick ropes of his cum into your tummy as his body thrashes on top of yours. The primal intensity has you vibrating as another orgasm rips through your overstimulated and overworked pussy. Filled the brim, his spunk overflows, sploshing out of your pussy as he rocks his hips, urging his seed deeper to plant right in your womb.
In the afterglow, the two of you lie off-kilter in a tangled heap on the broken sofa. Thereâs blood rushing to your headâ not the worst place for it, you think, all things considered. Enjinâs weight is heavy, his chest heaving into yours, warm and sticky as he wraps you in his arms.Â
Just as you feel you both might drift off like this, Enjin stirs. Flinching, you whimper as Enjin wills himself up, his cock sliding out of your pussy with a squelchy suctioning noise. Your knees part for him with zero resistance as he inspects his handiwork, peeling apart your battered pussy lips to reveal your dug out slit.Â
âWhewww,â Enjin whistles at the sight of the thick creampie glistening in your core. âAll this cum your cute pussy pulled outta meâyouâd think she was my jinki.â
Sober, you likely would have slapped him for referring to your pussy as his vital instrument. But ecstasy clouds your logic, so high off endorphins and other substances, you only giggle. It is kinda funny you suppose.
âYeahâsquirtinâ on command like that. Definitely an attack type.â
Spread open, the thick plug of spunk froths out of you. But Enjin simply tuts, pushing it right back in, not wanting to waste a single drop.
âYeah, how about that, âmma duel wielder! Yup, definitely gotta name âer nowâwhat you thinkinâ I should call her, princess?â
Enjin sees the way your pretty cunny is twitching, and in his pussy drunk mind, it's an approval. The spasms that still quake through you are like tremors of Morse Codeâyour slutty pussy agreeing with him, begging for more. Flipping you over on your belly, Enjin is more than happy to fulfill any request of his new vital instrument.
âGot it! Cumbringer! The Umbreaker and The Cumbringer. Nice ring to âem, dontâcha think?â
Cumbringer!?
Later, you would definitely regret being so thoroughly fucked out of your mind you didnât put a stop to this. Enjin is most definitely going to be insufferably proud of himself for the next 3-6 business weeks. Heâd lord this over you and tease you with not-so-subtle hints around the rest of the cleaners.Â
Yet, as Enjin is swabbing his huge cock through your folds, you feel the ache of loss in your core, wanting to be filled again and you canât seem to find the fucks to careâyou just needed more of his dick, likeâŠnow.
Pleased with your compliance, Enjin thumbs the dips at the small of your back, perching your ass up so your back arches real nice.
âTrash Daddyâs gonna take real good care of Cumbringer from now on, too. Make âer live up to the name.â
When Enjin pushes into you again, the new angle has him bullying against your g-spot with even more intensity than before. Seeing the way you jolt, he holds back from going as deep this time to directly abuse the spot. Slick runs down your legs and despite how slippery the ruined leather cushions are beneath you, Enjin still holds you firm as his cock sloshes through your ruined pussy.
âSay, how much anima you think is in my nut, Princess?â
You donât respond but Enjin, proving to have the stamina of a beast, feels like he should give you at least two more doses just to be sure.
â
Fading in and out of a euphoric stupor, youâre unsure how much time passes. Absolutely cockdrunk, at some point, youâd simply just surrendered. Your pussy clearly has zero complaints about being a jinki for Enjinâs cock and you are too dumb once you get a lil dick to stop him.
Somehow, youâve ended up folded over the wide coffee table. Itâs unstable beneath you, but Enjin doesnât seem to care what he breaks when heâs fucking you. He only moved from the sofa when the back of it finally broke.
Straining, you think you hear voices but everything feels so far away and fuzzy. The room gets darker and you realize Enjinâs thrown his coat over you. Still sheathed deep inside you, Enjinâs cock plants lazy kisses to your womb as he speaks rather casually to someone.
Hmm, did he get a call? Is that Semiu?
Semiu is likely calling, wondering why you both havenât shown up to happy hour yetâshit. Thereâs no way youâre making it in this condition; your limbs are toast. You canât even move the weight of Enjin's bulky jacket off of you, the heavy material trapping you in the humidity of your own breath and sweat. But in a way, the warmth is comforting. Your cheek resting against the wood, you allow the tent of muggy heat and his cock moving languidly inside you to lull you into complacencyâ in your delirium, everything feels like a nice dream.
Yet Enjin is fully alert, a shit eating grin on his face as he stares down Semiu and Gris who had just walked in on Enjin shamelessly beating your doonies down. Enjin only spared your modesty by covering you up, but he has no qualms with either Gris or Semiu seeing him in all his glory and doesnât even bother pulling out of you.
A fact that is painfully clear as he pats the pockets of his jacket draped over you for his cigsâhe might as well smoke if heâs giving you a break.
âI win,â Semiu turns to Gris, hand out expectantly.
Semiuâs cool expression never changes but there is amusement in her eyes as Gris fishes into his pockets and places a stack of bills into her hand.
âTsk, damnâŠâ Gris shakes his head, although heâs not shocked.Â
The two of you are down so horrendously bad for each other that this should have happened long ago as far as everyone else was concerned. The tension has been at an unbearable level for those around you, the way the two of you picked at each other non-stop like a kidâs first crush.
Alas, youâre an airhead and Enjin is so stubborn heâs delusional. So the older Cleaner members couldnât help, but place bets on when and where you and Enjin would finally slip between the sheets. Its a shame that you weren't in one of your beds right now--in between actual sheets--instead of the lounge becoming collateral damage.
âYou know, after all the game you talked about winning your money back at poker tonight, Bro said you were a no-show because you knew you were gonna loseâŠâ Gris eyes the boneless, quivering lump that is you under Enjinâs jacket.Â
Enjin really did a number on you. Your nonsensical babbles pouting for Enjin to âmake sure to tell Semiu to bring you back some fries from the barâ obviously means you have no idea that they are actually in the room.
âBut it looks like you have your âace in the hole' for an entirely different game.â
Enjin chortles. His hips stutter forward a bit too hard and you squeak in protest, he just hushes you.
âAwe, so you came back all this way to check-up on us? How sweet,â Enjin says sarcastically, taking a drag from his cigarette.
âHardly. Rudo accidentally chugged an entire beer he thought was sodaâthen proceeded to throw it all up over Zanka,â Semiu says flatly.Â
Enjin attempts to hold back his laughter as Semiu continues with a sigh. She explains thatGris helped carry Rudo back, promptly putting his little blacked out ass to bed. Zanka locked himself in the bathroom immediately upon returning.
âAlthough they're sure to be occupied for the rest of the night, since the kids are back in the building you need to wrap this shit up Enjinâshe looks like she could use the break anyway.â
Semiu casts a sympathetic look your way. She did warn you about Enjin though, so he was your mess to deal with now.Â
âSure thing,â Enjin says, patting your form underneath his coat, âIâve trained my new jinki well enough for tonight.âÂ
Semiu takes one look at the absolutely diabolical grin on Enjinâs face and decides she's already had enough of his shit for the night.
She sighs again. âJust hurry it up, alright?â
Enjin gives Semiu a cheeky salute. Yet the second her back is turned, Enjin mimes a dramatic chefâs kiss to the air for Gris. Enjinâs eyes roll back like heâs just had the best meal of his life.Â
Gris snorts, shooting him a wink and a thumbs-up for a âjob well doneâ like a proud teammate before heading out of the room as well.
âOne more thing.â
Semiu pauses in the doorway, hands resting on the double doors, surveying the crime scene-like state of the lounge. The sofa is toast, the coffee tableâs on life support, and there's a growing puddle under you, spilling over to slowly drip off its edge onto the floor.
âIf youâre just going to recklessly rawdog her, at least get her on the pill. Alice can sort that out tomorrowâright after you replace every piece of furniture youâve both annihilated.â
Enjin simply shrugs, taking another drag of his cigarette.
âI supposeâŠwe can stop by Aliceâs too.âÂ
Semiu just rolls her eyes, only to wrinkle her nose as a wave of stale air wafts by.
âAnd for the love of godâcrack a window. Smells like fresh ass in here.â
Once the doors finally click shut, Enjin rips his jacket off of you and smiles. Youâre still blissed out in lalaland while your pussy, Cumbringer, is clenching around him like she has one more go left in her.
Grabbing your arm, he pulls you up. Still sheathed inside you, he sits back on his knees, bringing you with him, your back pressed against his chest.
âMmmmâ*yawns* Was that Semiu on the call, Enj?â
Call? Oh, heh.
âHa, yeah baby girl, just Semiu on the line,â Enjin lies too easily.Â
Itâs for your own benefit thoughâno need to ruin your bliss with anything silly like embarrassment or shame from being walked-in on. Hell, unless Semiu says something, Enjin might be able to get away with not ever telling you.
âShe said they ran outta fries though. Iâll get ya some later, yeah? Jusâ need Cumbringer to clock in one more time, Princess...â
Enjin rocks his hips with yours in a slow wave and your pout melts, no longer caring about the fries. Your head tips back onto his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you.
âAh, mmmm, b-butângnh! She mentioned something about hotdogs and getting pills tomorrow? Is that a mission?â
Enjin hums to keep from laughing as he turns your face towards him. He smirks devilishly against your lips.
Distracting you with sweet chaste kisses, Enjin rubs gentle circles over your womb. Youâre gonna be so fucking hot waddling around HQ in your slutty ass uniform, tits leaking and belly full with his brats.Â
The only pill heâd get from Alice would be a fertility pill.
âNothing my slutty baby girl or my Cumbringer gotta worry about, Princess. Leave everything tâme.â
đđ§: ahh tysm for reading, especially if you are new to my writing. enjin brain rot is lethal. i needed to get this outta my system! jjk girlies forgive me for straying from my wip list and kinktober lol. definitely down to write more of him. i have a p2 and another enjin story (an AU) idea. but i have to focus on my jjk kinktober now! âĄ
also, in case anyone is wonderingâyes, reader's jinki is a labubu and yes, enjin just guilt tripped reader into growing him his own personal stash djhscjhdfj.
banner: mash up of official manga + rororogi mogera 'last mall' doujin panels.
After living his entire life as a beta, Zanka goes into his first rut at the age of twenty-two.
This complicates his relationship with youâthe only omega in all of Cleaners' HQ.
13.8k words of a/b/o romance and smut! nsft tags: solo, multiple orgasms (zanka receiving), piv sex (reader receiving), knotting, shamelessly horny rut sex. warnings: themes of gender-based discrimination, briefly mentions trafficking and pregnancy/fertility (not in a kinky way). a/b/o worldbuilding notes here!
notes: kei urana revealed that zanka smells like incense and within 7 business days I wrote 14k words about it... man.
Zanka should have been an alpha.
His father had never said that in so many words, but he isn't stupid. During his last days at the Nijiku Estate, he could sense his old manâs disappointment with his disposition. Zanka was supposed to graduate at the top of the Academy like Kyouka and Goka. He was supposed to serve in the Hell Guard like Kyouka and Goka. He was supposed to present, at some point between the ages of thirteen to sixteen, as an alphaâjust like Kyouka and Goka. Like everyone else bearing the Nijiku name, Zanka had been meant to dominate Kamuatari district in every way possible: as a genius, as a martial artist, as a leader.
As an alpha.
But Zanka never graduated from the Academy, and he never became a Hell Guard, and he also never, at some point between the ages of thirteen to sixteen, presented as an alpha. He ended up a beta and a Giver, and he ran away to join the Cleanersâan organization that is ironically full of alphas. Heâs unusual for being a beta, and he guesses he's also unusual for being an all-around mediocre guy surrounded by alphas like Enjin and Tamsy and Semiu. Which should be fine. He's made peace with what he is.
Except you're an omega.
When Zanka first met you, he knew instantly what your presentation was.
Now, you didn't look like the classical image of an omega (fragile, elegant, something meant to be kept in the privacy of a luxurious house or on the arm of a nobleman), but you did have the scent of one. Zanka, himself, couldn't smell youâbetas are all noseblind, unable to detect pheromonesâbut every single alpha in HQ could. To this day, their heads always turn as soon as you enter the room, enticed by whatever honeyed scent trails after you. Some of them openly trail after you, offering little gifts in the hopes of starting a courtship. Even Enjin, who's met far more omegas than most people will ever encounter in their lifetime, sometimes gets distracted by your presence.
âShe smells like fresh flowers,â Delmon once told him. âTuberoses, I think. They're tough to growâtougher than any other species.â
Zanka understood the attention after that. Flowers are incredibly rare on the Ground, and most species smell foul thanks to the toxicity of the soil and their frequently carnivorous nature. Even the full garden and all the resources of the Nijiku Estate could hardly support more than a handful of lilies. Zanka couldn't tell you what a tuberose would smell like, and couldn't even really tell you what one would look likeâbut it must be something addictive, with the way you're always turning heads. He can't be sure, though. Zanka won't ever know your scent.
He has no biological reason to look at you as much as he does. No biological reason to be mesmerised by you as much as he is. No biological reason to want you the way an alpha would.
But it's really hard not to want you. Really, really hard. Which is unfortunate, since he has no business looking at an omega.
âYou're so old-fashioned about this stuff," you whine at him one day, looping your arm around his and pressing yourself to his shoulder. Zankaâs heart rate ticks up, but he keeps a straight face. Somehow. He distracts himself with your musings. You love to interrogate people about their thoughts on mismatched relationshipsâalphas with betas, and omegas with betas, and omegas with omegasâand right now he's the focus of your scrutiny.
âWhat do you mean youâd never date an omega?â you demand. âWhat don't you like about us?â
Zanka studies your face carefully. You don't look hurt, exactly, but you do look disappointed. He gets it. Exceptionally rare and desirable, omegas have a tough deal in most parts of the Ground. In places like Kamuatari District, you'd have been courted by multiple suitors, then engaged to an alpha soon after coming of age and safely married off long ago; elsewhere, you might have ended up exploited, or trafficked, or worse. It was his old manâs opinion that alphas couldn't be trusted around unmated omegas, and that omegas should be considered a kind of protected class. The rest of Kamuatari district felt similarly; it was unusual for omegas to marry anyone other than alpha suitors who could take proper care of themâexcept for maybe the occasional beta with enough wealth and rank among the Hell Guard, but those marriages were usually considered a farce. It was also unheard of for omegas to freely talk to anyone without the company of their alpha mate. Zankaâs mother, herself, never left the Nijiku Estate unless it was on the arm of his father, and said that doing otherwise would be âfoolishâ.
When Zanka first told you about this, you'd balked at himâprobably because you seem deeply uninterested in finding an alpha to chaperone you for all your exploitsâthough you also kind of understood it.
It does make me nervous sometimes that this place is full of alphas, you'd said, seating yourself on Zankaâs lap. Heâd tried not to look at your doe eyes or pouty lips, nor the dangerously low cut of your top. That's why I like it when you hold me, you know. You make me feel so safe.
Zanka said he was glad to hear that, and then he prayed to every god in existence that you wouldn't notice his flustered expression or very obvious boner. Just as he is right now, trying to ignore the press of your chest against his arm.
âIt ain't that I don't like omegas,â he replies carefully. âBut Iâd never be able to take care of one as their mate, y'know? Not as a beta.â
âThat's stupid,â you say plainly. âWhat could an alpha do that a beta can't?â
He tries not to splutter. âAinât it obvious?â
You stare blankly. âNo?â
Zanka wants to die. You have to be playing dumb. But then again, you've never been in a relationship, so maybe you're just astonishingly ignorant about certain mating rituals. He has half a mind to tell you to ask an omega, but then he realises there are none besides you in HQ.
âLike,â he starts, struggling. âWe can't scent âem so other alphas stay away. Or make âem feel protected. Or take care of them during⊠you know.â During heats, he wants to say, but can't get out. Zankaâs pretty sure that he's already red up to the tips of his ears; if he goes anywhere near the topic of knotting, heâll probably combust. âAnywayâomegas never pay attention to me. Don't ya think that says something? I'd never be enough for one.â
âI think youâd be enough for anyone,â you grouse. âI wish you'd stop talking about yourself like that, Zanka.â
âLike what?â He gives you a bewildered look.
âLike youâre always looking down on yourself. Saying youâre a mediocrity, or youâll never be enough, or whatever.â
Zanka shrugs. âI ain't lookinâ down on myselfâjust sayinâ the truth. Nothinâ wrong with beinâ a beta or a mediocrity, but everyoneâs gotta acknowledge their own limits.â
âI think you were raised to believe in too many limits,â you say, actually sounding a little sad. Zanka would hate hearing that from anyone elseâhis familyâs business isn't anyoneâs but his ownâbut he knows you mean well. And anyway, you were probably raised with infinitely more limits than him. You're an omega, after all.
âDoesnât matter much now,â Zanka tries to console you. âIâm with the Cleaners now, ain't I? And stuff like that doesn't matter to most people here.â
Though it does matter to him. He's not one to forget about his limits. Even if he's fine with being a beta, a mediocrity, a disinherited nobodyâhe knows it wouldn't be fine for you, eventually. Or at least he wouldn't be fine giving you that kind of life.
Sometimes, though, when you smile too long at him or stare at him in that pretty way of yours, Zanka wonders if that could someday change. After he's different, after he's powerful, after he's more than some failed heirâthen maybe he'd have some kind of business looking at you. But it feels pointless to think about it as he is right now.
After allâhe's a beta anyway.
Whenever you go into preheat, you ask Zanka for his sweaters and T-shirts. The fabrics of your clothes are so nice, you always say, nuzzling into whatever you've stolen off his body. Makes for good nesting material, you know?
Zankaâs never thought too hard about it. He's always heard that omegas want comfortable nests, after allâit keeps them feeling safe during a vulnerable and sometimes painful time. It's no skin off his back if you want to borrow some old clothes that would make you feel a little better during your heats, especially since yours are so brutal. You're already looking ill right now, before it's even started. Practically shivering on the couch, deep bags under your eyes from all the sleep you've lost over the past couple of days. When he drapes his cardigan over your shoulders, you immediately burrow into itâpull it tight around your body and press your nose against the blue cotton. You breathe in deeply, sighing with reliefâsomething he's seen you do plenty of times.
Zankaâs never quite understood this particular habit of yours. âWhy dâya always sniff my clothes?â he asks. âIs it an omega thing?â
âKinda,â you murmur. âIt's comforting.â You're so tired that you sway a little bit; he allows you to lean against him and rest your head on his shoulder. âOmegas like familiar scents during their heatsâdonât you know that?â
âNo,â he admits. âTalkinâ about heats was real taboo in Kamuatari District. I know the broad strokes of what happens, but nothinâ else.â Which is probably a good thing: Zanka thinks heâd die if he did learn, in detail, what happened to an omega during their heat. It's a calculated decision when he asks, âAnyway, whaddya mean you like my scent? Betas don't have scents.â
You frown. âWhat are you talking about? You totally do. It's just very faint.â As if to prove a point, you close your eyes and lean in very close to his nape. He can feel the soft tickle of your breath against his pulse, your lips inches from his throat.
Zanka stops breathing.
Your voice is low, almost velvety, when you speak again: âNone of your alpha friends or family ever told you about your scent?â
âN-nah,â he says. He's stuttering and his face is burning, but you don't comment on it, merely staring up at him in a way thatâs making him prayâagainâthat he wonât get a boner. âIt was real taboo to talk about scents in Kamuatari District, too.â
You tilt your head. âTaboo?â
âYeah. Ain't it rude? It's like commentinâ on someoneâs body.â
You let out a laugh: faint, tinged with amusement, and maybe derision too. âThatâs awfully silly. An omegaâs body is already everyone else's businessâwouldnât you agree?â
You give Zanka one of those long, penetrating looks again, leaning into him. He becomes acutely aware of the obvious view down your shirt and tries to think about literally anything else. You always get extra touchy with him during your preheats: youâve had some downright horrifying experiences with alphas during previous ones, and it eases your anxiety over it when you're physically close to Zanka. It makes him feel extra scummy for checking you out. You're going to him for comfort; he should definitely not be thinking about the way your curves feel against his body.
âUh,â he replies.
You press your lips to the shell of his ear, voice soft: âDo you wanna know what you smell like, Zanka?â
âUh.â
You inhale, breathing out a little sigh afterward that has him shivering.
âLike incense,â you murmur. âSandalwood, I think. It's very pleasant. Calms me down during my heats.â
He swallows. Hard. âY-your heats?â
âMhm.â Your hand brushes against his thigh; his heart jumps. âMine are really bad, you know. It always hurts so much because of how empty I am. But your scent always helps my body relax. Makes me feel better.â
Zanka is going to die.
He knows you're not trying to make any suggestive comments. Incense helps everyone relax; that's why so many people burn it in the first place. And there's no way, biologically, that Zankaâs scent could provide any kind of sexual or physical relief to you during a heatâhe isn't an alpha, after all. But holy shit does everything about this moment feel suggestive. He pulls back, face burning, pants mortifyingly tight. Thankfully, you don't look at his lap.
âZanka?â you ask, blinking. âIs something wrong?â
You look so innocentâand even kind of worried, like you've done something wrong. Guilt floods him.
âNo,â he says quickly, trying to adjust his pants as subtly as possible. âNothinâ at all. You just made me thinkâarenât ya uncomfortable right now? Since you're in preheat. Maybe I should get ya more clothes for your nest, and you could get around to making it faster.â
You blink, then smile a little.
âSure,â you say. âWhy don't you help me build it, actually?â
Zanka ends up giving you half his wardrobe and spends most of the evening watching you meticulously arrange and re-arrange a pile of blankets and sweaters on your bed. He can't determine what makes you satisfied with certain parts of your nest and what makes you decide to demolish others, but that's fine since he isn't helping with actually building it. His only role is to rub his wrists along whatever shirt he's donating to your cause, or holding it against the crook of his neck until you deem it ready to use.
âThis is how you scent things,â you explain patiently. âYou rub your scent glands on it, or you press your whole body against it. Easy work.â
âBut I don't have scent glands.â
âOf course you do. How else would you have a scent?â You frown. âWow, you really don't know anything about mating biology, do you?â
âIt ain't like I need to know about it,â Zanka points out, âsince I'm a beta and all.â
âIt could still come up,â you insist. âSometimes omegas and alphas will try to mark their beta mates on their scent glands. Almost never takes, but it happens.â
Zanka imagines, almost against his will, the feeling of your teeth and lips on his neck; he can feel his cheeks going pink. âSure,â he replies, hoping he doesn't sound too affected, âbut omegas ain't ever interested in me, alphas don't look my way, and betas don't do any of that. My ex never wanted me to scent anythinâ for her.â
You freeze. âYou have an ex?â
â...yeah?â Zanka is understanding, all of a sudden, that he's said something wrong. From the fleeting twitch of your mouth and the way your breath stops, he can tell you're upset. He wonders what tuberose and bitter orange would smell like together; Enjin had once said, when you had shut yourself into your room for three days straight, that it was very easy for him to tell when you were depressed. Zanka had then decided that since he couldn't smell your moods, he'd simply learn your microexpressions insteadâand theyâre alarming him right now.
âMet her in the city while I was out on a job, before ya joined the Cleaners,â he says carefully. âDidn't last long.â
You relax. âOh,â you say. âI guess that's fine.â
Zanka isn't sure why his dating history is being judged or the criteria by which you're judging it, but he feels like it's a bad idea to ask. âAnythinâ else I can do to help here?â he says instead, studying your nest carefully. He still can't see any rhyme or reason to how it's arranged, but if he memorises it, he could re-build it for you next time anyway.
You hesitate. âI mean⊠you couldâŠâ
You don't often get shyâat least, not compared to Zanka. It's weird watching you fumble with your words. âI kinda thought⊠you know, when my heat comes for real⊠itâs always really tough since I'm aloneâŠâ
Oh. Of course. âIs there anythinâ I can get ya?â he knows to ask. He asked Enjin once how to help an omega through their heat, so he knows the basics: âWater? Snacks? Meds? I'll run out and get whatever ya need.â
âNo, I've got all of that sorted. But⊠company would be nice, you know?â
Zanka stares at you for a little bit before he realises what you're asking, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat. âAre ya askinâ me to help you find a heat partner?â
You give him a dumbfounded look. Probably surprised he's already intuited what you're about to ask, given how clueless he is about other mating rituals. âWhat? Well, I meanââ
âThere's a lot of alphas here who'd be happy to help, I think. I could ask one of them for ya, if there's someone you're thinkinâ of?â Zanka tries to sound casual, even though the idea is unsettling to him. Heat partners weren't a thing in Kamuatari since omegas got married so young there, but they make sense out here in East Ward, where omegas tend to stay unmated for longer. Zankaâs not judging anyone for it. The thing is, when he tries to picture you spending your heat with any of the alphas he knows and trustsâEnjin or Tamsy or Semiuâ
âheâs realising that he'd want it to be no one other than himself.
Which is stupid. He's got no business looking at an omega. No business looking at you. What could he do to help you through your heat?
Maybe his mood is showing on his face, because your eyes go soft.
âNo, I'm not asking for that either. I'm fine spending it alone.â
âBut you should have an alpha take care of ya. Nearly all omegas need it.â
âI don't.â Then you give him an uncertain look, which borders on shy, and which makes his heart jump in a way that feels like it might require medical attention. âBut it'd be nice if we could talk a little through our chokers, while I'm going through it?â
Your heat runs its course over the next week. You'd ordinarily hole up in your room the whole time, completely alone, and Zanka would have no clue what's happening in there other than the fact that youâre suffering. It always makes him feel on edge. So this time around, it's a relief when you call at night and he hears your voiceâeven though it's always ragged and exhausted, like you've been completely wrung out by heatsickness.
âWish you could hold me,â you murmur once, sleepy and wistful. âIt always makes me feel better when you do.â
âI don't think I could actually do much for ya,â Zanka tells you, trying to ignore the funny squeeze that his heartâs doing at your words. âBetas are pretty useless for heats.â
âI don't think you're useless,â you say. âAnd you always do a lot for me.â
Your voice is so small. It reminds Zanka of that one time where things had gone really sideways for youâstranded and alone in the desert due to a trash storm, weak from an early preheat. You were an impossibly good find for the traffickers who came across you: there's nothing on the market more valuableâor vulnerableâthan an unmated omega in heat. Zanka, Enjin, and Gris had found you locked up in the trunk of a car, curled into a ball and trembling in pain. Your entire body was burning with fever and fear, and you screamed when Enjin and Gris tried to untie you. Youâd been too delirious to recognise their faces or even their scents: all you knew was that there were two alphas trying to grab you, and they could have done whatever they wanted with you.
It was Zanka who'd helped you in the end. He hadnât had a choice: he was the only beta among them, the only person who didn't smell like a threat. He took you into his armsâcarried you, because you were in too much pain to walkâand delivered you to the clinic, your scalding tears pressed into the crook of his neck the whole time. Please don't go, you'd begged, crying against his pulse. Iâm scared, I'm so scared, please don't let them touch me. But his motherâs words rang loud and clear through his headâItâs dangerous for an omega to see anyone other than their alpha during a heatâand Zanka had left, in the end, trying not to listen to your wounded pleas.
You hadn't held it against him. If anything, you trusted him more coming out of the whole ordeal: that's when you started getting all touchy with him, clinging onto him because it made you feel safe despite being constantly surrounded by alphas. But he feels shitty about it to this day, and heâs only been thinking of it more since your latest heat.
He thinks that's whatâs gotten him into such a bad mood lately. Your heatâs finished up and you're perfectly healthy nowâbut Zanka feels agitated, somehow, whenever he sees you.
Specifically, he feels agitated when he sees other people near you.
Now, Zanka considers himself pretty friendly with everyone, unless your name is Rudo and you steal Lovely Assistaff and call it a dumb stick. Then Zanka might try to beat your ass. But otherwise, he's never felt badly toward any of his fellow Cleaners. It's confusing, then, how he gets antsy when he sees you talking with Semiu. How he catches himself frowning when you light a cigarette for Enjin. How his eyes narrow when he watches you and Tamsy sparring and you're clearly on the defensive, brow pinched, breath short. He stares at the two of you, hawklike, every muscle in his body tense.
Please don't go. I'm scared, I'm so scared, please don't let them touch me.
You're strung up by Tokushin, wailing at being bound, and suddenly Zankaâs staff has the other Giver trapped against a wall, its spikes dangerously close to his body. Tamsy seems unfazed, whistlingâas if impressed. His eyes lose their golden glow; you yelp a little as you fall to the ground, and Zankaâs gaze snaps to you as you land on your feet.
âZanka?â you ask, running up to him. âWhat's wrong? What happened?â
Your eyes dart between him and Tamsy. Tamsy shrugs, nonchalant. âBeats me.â He tilts his head, his keen eyes roaming over Zankaâs form. âDid I do something to offend you?â
Zanka realises that he has no answer. He tries to retrace his thought process, but can't come up with anything concreteâitâs like he blacked out between the time you got strung up and this moment, when you ran to his side.
He remembers being worried, though.
âYou were beinâ awful rough with her,â he says, voice tight. âSounded like she was in pain.â
Tamsy hums. âBut weâve sparred a million times, and she always screams like that. You've never gotten so worried before, Zanka.â
There's nothing he can say to that. He feels like a crazy person. He had no reason to attack Tamsy, but he doesn't want to release himânot until youâve gotten away from him. I'm scared, Zanka keeps remembering. I'm so scared, please don't let them touch me. You weren't just saying that about the traffickersâit was also about Enjin, and Gris, and everyone else in the Cleaners who tried to crowd around you and nearly suffocatedâ
âZanka?â you say softly. You touch his arm, and all the tension leaves his body. Anima and rage drain out of his vital instrument; Lovely Assisstaff returns to its original form, fragile and benign. Zanka tracks Tamsyâs movements carefully in his periphery, but stays turned to you.
âWere you worried about me?â you ask, peering at him curiously.
He shifts, uncomfortable. âYeah. I know it don't make sense, butââ
âThat's alright,â you dismiss. âNo harmâs been done.â You give Tamsy an apologetic look. âHonestly, I was kinda tired from my heat anyway. Zanka probably just noticed. Let's call it quits and get back to it tomorrow?â
âSure,â Tamsy says neutrally, then inclines his head to Zanka. âAs long as Zankaâs fine with it.â
I'm not, he nearly says, for some reason he can't fathom. Now that he thinks about it, he also can't fathom why Tamsy would ever defer to him in the first place. It's strange, though Zanka's feeling some of the tension leave his jaw, hackles receding. Weird.
He tries to ignore it, turning to you. âWhatever ya feel comfortable with. I just don't want ya tirinâ yourself out.â
âTomorrow, then.â You tug on Zankaâs arm, leading him away from Tamsy. âLet's get out of here.â
Zanka watches Tamsy the whole time as the two of you leave, tracking the movements of his feet, his eyes, his hands. It's only after the door swings shut behind the two of you that he finally relaxes. He tastes something in the air as you pull him closeâsweet, fleeting, foreign. It's gone before he knows it.
It takes Zanka some time to realise that you've started to wear perfume.
âItâs nice,â he compliments you once he does, sitting next to you as the two of you do maintenance on your respective vital instruments. His staff is shiny with linseed oil; its earthy scent layered with your fragrance is pleasant. He finds himself watching you work, his eyes lingering on your nape as you bend over your desk, biting your lip in focus. âWhereâd you get it?â
You blink at him. âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean, where's your perfume from? That stuffâs real pricey, right? Sâhard to make.â That's what Enjin told him, anyway: his own cologne was terribly expensive, its ingredients imported from some faraway village. When Zanka asked what was even the point of using it, Enjin said it was just for polish. Then Bro ratted him out and said it was actually for picking up betas.
Zanka hadnât thought much about it at the time, but now it's making him uneasy. Itâd be crazy of you to seek the attention of a beta when you have so many alphas around you, who are much more qualified to mate with youâbut then again, maybe that's why you're always so curious about people's stances on mismatched relationships. Maybe you've found a beta you're interested in. You've always been a little unconventional, after all.
He swallows at the thought, thinking back to all the interactions you've had with him. The touchiness, the nesting, the way you seem to long for his presence during your heats. It really wouldn't make senseânot when thereâs Enjin and Tamsy and Semiu, not when omegas never look his way, not when you should have been married long ago to an alpha who could take proper care of youâbut maybe, just maybeâ
âI got it in Canvas Town, from a specialty perfumer,â you say smoothly, watching him carefully. âCan you pick out any notes?â
Zanka frowns. âNot really. I'm not good with noticinâ that type of thing. It just smells sweet to me.â
âGive it a try,â you say. âI'm curious what you get from it.â
You offer your wrist to him, and Zanka studies it, swallowing. He's for some reason mesmerized by the sight of itâstaring more openly than he ever has at your legs or scandalously low-cut topsâand his hand almost trembles as he takes it and gently angles your pulse toward his face. He reminds himself that you hug him and sit on his lap and hang off his arm almost every day. Itâs not a huge deal to smell your wrist, in comparison. It should be a quick and casual thing.
But then he breathes in and his mind goes blank.
Your scent is fucking heavenly.
Zanka didn't know a perfume could smell so good. Enjinâs cologne is underwhelming to him, as have been most other ones he's smelled. But yours is rich and soothing and beautifulâmade from some kind of flower, he guesses. But not one he's ever known. It's strange and overpowering and it makes him feel fucking ravenousâlike he wants to drink it all in. Or drown in it.
Zanka only realises heâs pressed his lips against your skin when you make a small noise.
He doesn't know how it happened. It's like he blacked out againâbut now that he's awake, he jerks back, as if youâd just slapped him. âSorry!â he yelps, mortified, because what the fuck did he just do? (Something that was definitely an HR violation, he thinks.)
But you don't look mad. You look⊠flustered. Your eyes are hazy; your lips are parted, breath heavy. Something shifts, and Zanka glances down to see you pressing your thighs together.
If he didn't know any better, he'd think you were aroused.
Zanka swallows, trying to ignore the thought. But it's hard when you're looking at him like thatâeyes hooded by your lashes, pupils blownâand harder still, with how good you smell. You've tugged away your wrist but for some reason he can still practically taste your fragrance in the airâheady and almost cloying, now. Springtime bloom, fresh juice on his tongue. It's painfully distracting.
âIt's okay,â you say, clearing your throat. âThe insides of my wrists are just a little sensitive. There's a scent gland there, remember? Usually only a mate would touch that spot directly.â
Zanka is going to die. Or he's going to get sued for harassment.
âIâm real sorry,â he blurts out. âI dunno what came over me. I shouldn't have done thatââ
âNo, itâs really fine.â Your voice is gentle. His panicked breath evens out, and he takes in your new fragrance again: mellow, sweet. He feels himself relaxing, focusing on your questions: âWhat did you smell, though?â
âFlowers,â he says immediately, âand a couple of other things.â
âLike?â
âI dunno. Honey and fruit, maybe?â
âCitrus?â
He thinks for a minute. âYeah.â
You give him another one for your long looks. He wonders what you're thinking, but you don't let it on, only nodding to yourself.
âI see.â
Zanka feels like he's going insane.
Whatever new fragrance you're wearing is overpowering. Ordinarily if a fragrance permeated everything like this, it would make him annoyed at best, nauseated at worst. But something about this particular scentâsyrupy, heady, the memory of your skin against his lips, the sensation of your pulse beneath his mouthâis driving him toward some dangerous edge. He tastes the air and he thinks of you: fingers petal-soft, eyes citrus-bright, voice honey-sweet. The dip of your collarbones, the soft lines of your body. He feels like he'll fall off a cliff whenever you're around.
It makes him feel so, so scummyâlike a real scuzzball. All you're doing is existing around him and it's giving him the worst thoughts about youâthoughts he has no business having.
The worst part is that your scent is ever-present, lingering even when you, yourself, aren't there. It's in the dining hall, in the common area, in the threads of his clothes. It's in the training room, when he's trying to focus on sparring. It's in his sheets when he's trying to sleep at night, hoping he's not gonna have some kind of filthy dream about youâwaking up mortified when he does, his cock throbbing and leaking, aching to be inside you. It's even there when he's meditating, trying to focus on the weight of Lovely Assisstaff but thinking instead of how your weight feels on his lapâhow it'd feel if you sat there, straddling his waist, moaning pretty in his ear as you ride him.
It makes me feel so safe when you hold me like this.
Man. He really is a scuzzball.
He thinks his guilt over this might be responsible for his bad mood lately. He snaps at people when you aren't in his line of sight. He flattened Rudo during training, the other day, after he spotted the two of you having lunch together. He saw you share a cigarette with EnjinâEnjin! His fucking hero!âand he accidentally crushed the glass in his hands.
Zanka tries to get your perfume out of his clothes, but it's not coming out no matter how much he scrubs things. He's forced to stop trying, because if he wears out the threads then your nests won't be as comfortable anymore. But it's driving him fucking crazy.
He's in the canteen, scowling and sleep-deprived, when Enjin comes upon him and whistles at the piss-poor state he's in.
âAlright,â he says in that knowing tone of his, pulling up a chair. âWhat's going on?â
Zanka can't respond at first. What the fuck is he supposed to say? Iâm smellinâ my friendâs perfume everywhere and it's makinâ me so horny I can't focus? It sounds insane. He feels insane. So he ends up just saying, vaguely, that he wants to get your new fragrance out of his clothes, and it's annoying him that he can't figure out how.
Enjin blinks. âNew fragrance?â
âYeah. I'm sure you've smelled itâitâs everywhere, ain't it?â Zanka wrinkles his nose. âSânice in small doses, but distracting as hell like this.â
âWhat do youâŠâ Enjin takes a beat, studying him. Then he smiles. âYeah, it is pretty distracting. But are you really sure you wanna get rid of it? Lots of guys would love it, you know.â
ââcourse I do,â Zanka lies. âI don't want people thinkinâ I wear perfume anyway. Ain't my style.â
Enjin nods. âI get it. Wellâperfume like this is hard to rid of, but it's doable. I've done it plenty of times before. You gotta take a really hot showerâscrub your neck and wrists especially. And your hair, obviously.â
âAnd my clothes?â
âYou'll need to go shoppingâor use bleach.â
Zanka feels nothing but despair looking at the state of his walletâbeing disinherited means he can't spend the way he used toâbut he goes to buy new casual wear anyway. He makes sure it's all niceânot only because he's still got the instinct of presenting himself like a noble scion, but also because he doesn't want to loan you anything of shitty quality during your next heat. You should be comfortable.
Enjinâs advice does work. Zanka still tastes you in the air wherever he goes, but at least it's not clinging to him. It's enough to stop his daydreams about you, at least. Most of them. He's still having ones at night, and he's still waking up with raging boners, but at least it's something. He finally has some semblance of nonsexual peace.
The next time you run into him, you freeze.
âHey,â he greets, waving, âhowâd your mission go? You went to Canvas Town, right? I heard that things got kindaââ
You march up to him, ignoring him completely. He squirms under the intensity of your gaze, the tightness of your jaw. You layered a new perfume with your usual one, he notices. The citrus is stronger today.
âZanka,â you say, âhas something been wrong?â
He flushes, because the answer is yes, but he canât exactly say that his dick gets hard whenever he smells your perfume anywhereâand that he's been smelling it everywhere.
He liesâbadly: âN-noâŠ?â
âAre you mad at me?â you ask tightly.
âWhat? Of course not.â He frowns at the crease in your brow. You're distressed. âWhat's even makinâ you think that?â
You ignore himâagain. âThen are you seeing someone?â you try, and his jaw drops.
âHuh? No! Of course not.â He pauses at his own wordsââOf course not?â Why would it be obvious to you that he isn't? Though it's plenty obvious to him, given that he's been fixated on the thought of you for the past two weeks, and smitten for nearly the past yearâbut you relax, and he lets it go.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asks earnestly. âYer anxious about something.â
You seem to think for a little bit, and then you sigh. âI am,â you admit, voice small, and it sets him on edge immediately.
âWhat's wrong? Is someone botherinâ ya? An alpha?â He nearly pauses again, because what a weird fucking question. Why would it be an alpha? It's probably more likely all your paperwork for the collateral damage on your missions, which you truly suck at doing. No alpha with the Cleaners has ever given you any issues; Enjin, Gris, and Bro have always made sure of that.
You don't seem to question his suspicions, though. âNo, not exactly,â you say. âI can handle it myself, but I've been feeling kind of stressed.â
âWhat can I do to help?â
You look at him through your lashes, pleading. He realises he'd do anything for you in that moment.
âCan you hold me?â you ask. âJust for a little bit. I just need a hug.â
âOf course,â he says immediately, and you loop your arms around his neck and press your face against his shoulder, hair and breath tickling his jugular. Itâs oddly pleasant. He swallows as he's surrounded by that perfume againâpulled in, all dreamlike. He thinks about separating from you, but you take one of his hands and lace your fingers with his. He shivers when your thumb runs delicately along his wrist, lingering on his skin.
His mind feels halfway to fraying by the time you let go. You seem happier. Satisfied.
âThanks,â you say brightly. âThat made me feel better.â
You look contentârefreshed, almost. Zanka feels himself relaxing as you wave goodbye, rounding the corner so you can run an errand for Semiu. It's only after you're gone that heâs realising the scent of you is clinging to him again, and he nearly holds his head in his hands.
Back to square one.
After another week, Zanka feels like he's getting close to his limit.
For nearly twenty-one days, he's been suffering from intrusive thoughts of you, most of them wildly inappropriate. And as if it isnât bad enough to dealing with your new fragrance and the sudden, mortifying spike in his sex driveâhe now has to deal with your new wardrobe choices. You have a sudden preference for wearing very tiny skirts, and itâs been giving Zanka catastrophically high blood pressure since you keep bending over and giving him a full view of your ass. He always scrambles to get you to straighten up so heâs not looking up your skirtâand also to stand behind you so that no one else is tempted to do the same.
Itâs starting to become a struggle to exist around youâbut he doesn't exactly want to avoid you, either. He likes being near you. And he's on edge when he's not. After allâif he, as a beta, is thinking about you this way, what are the alphas around you fantasizing about?
Still. He wishes, at the very least, that you'd stop sitting in his lap and squirming around. It gives him a genuine heart attack every time you do it: what if you notice his dick pressing against your ass? But you seem none the wiser, just rubbing up on him anyway.
Itâs torturous. And wasteful. He's running up the water bill with how many cold showers he's taken latelyâbut he doesn't have a choice. He is not gonna be that creep who jacks off to the thought of his friend, who trusts him pretty much unconditionally even during heats. Heâs not a total scuzzball, alright? It's a line he won't cross, no matter how good you smell or how nice you feel or how pretty you are when you smile at him.
Then you return his clothesâthe ones you borrowed for your nestâand he finally hits his limit.
You're so nonchalant about it. A little careless, even. âSorry I didn't get the chance to wash them,â you fret, placing your basket of laundry at the foot of his bed. âI've just been so busy since my heat finished, you know, all these missions and then the paperwork⊠but you must be running out of clothes, huh? You keep buying new ones.â
Zanka swallows. He hardly wants to admit the fact that he's been trying to smell less of your new perfumeâitâd be a dick move, and anyway, it's really niceâso he shrugs and says, âI don't mind it.â
You frown. âI'll pay you back anyway.â
âNah, don't worry about it.â He nods at the laundry. âDon't worry about this, neither. Won't be a big deal to wash some clothes.â
You smile gratefully. âThanks. When I get back from this next mission, I'll make it up to you, okay? I'll take you out to dinner. My treat.â
Zanka thinks the last thing he wants to be doing is sitting in public with you, trying to hide his boner under some restaurant table, but he nods. âLet's do barbecue.â
You grin. âYou got it.â
He signs in relief after you've gone: your fragrance is a little fainter now in the absence of your body. Just another cold shower later and heâll be fineâheâll do it after he gets the laundry started.
Then he actually starts sorting through his clothes, and he almost loses his damn mind.
His clothes are doused in your fragrance, flora and honey permeating every seam and stitch. So sweet it's nearly cloying. So strong it's almost like you're still here with himâbreath sweeping across his collar, thumb trailing along his wrist. An omegaâs body is everyoneâs businessâwouldnât you agree?
He doesn't realise he's buried his face in his shirt until heâs closing his eyes and inhalingâgroaning as he does. He nearly throws it on the floor as soon as he hears the noise he's making, because what the fuck is he doing? Zanka absolutely has to stop. But his whole bodyâs gone hot and his mind has gone foggy and he can't stop breathing in the smell of youâlike he's some kind of addict, drunk on just the ghost of your presence.
Then he catches another scent layered into the fabric, and his eyes snap open.
It smells like sex.
He rifles through every piece of clothing in the basket; all of them carry that very specific, unmistakable scent. Like you lovingly built that nest with his clothes and brought someone to bed and let them fuck you in it. Except that doesn't make senseâyou hate it when anyone other than Zanka comes near you during your heats, and anyway, he'd have noticed if you'd gotten a heat partner. You spend way too much time around him for him to miss it.
What do omegas do during their heats without a partner, anyway? People in Kamuatari District never talked about it; heâd always assumed they just slept through their discomfort and tried to ignore all the symptoms of heat sickness. He hadn't known enough, at the time, to realise that that wouldn't be very realistic. He hadn't known that heats were so painful until he saw you crying in the trunk of that car, sweating and trembling. Until he picked you up and listened to you whimper against his neck. Until you crawled into his lap two months ago, whispering into his ear: It always hurts so much because of how empty I am, but your scent always helps my body relax. Makes me feel better.
Zanka is a beta. Heâs biologically incapable of giving you any kind of relief during a heat. But now he's putting two and two together, your words with your scent, and now he can't help the mental image he's forming: you, in a nest built with his things, panting and filling yourself up to chase away that emptiness. Wet and messy and getting slick all over his clothes. Warm and fragrant as you wear his shirts and take care of yourself with your fingers, crying into his fabrics.
Calling him afterwards, fucked to exhaustion and wrung out by countless orgasms, to tell him you wished he could hold you.
Zanka inhales sharply at the thought. Notices that his cock is fucking aching.
His sex drive has been unmanageable over these past few weeks, but it's still never been like this. His dick is pulsing and twitching and painful, and he can't stop breathing in your scent, and he keeps imagining the little sounds you must make in your nest while you touch yourself, and holy shit he is a scumbag for doing this, butâ
âheâs unzipping his pants and freeing his cock.
Guilt wells up in him when he wraps a hand around his length. Shame burns across his face. Heâs going to hate himself for this later; hell, he already hates himself. But he's just so hard, already leaking prespend everywhere, and it's only getting worse the more he presses his face into his fragranced shirt. Zanka can't help his reaction when he squeezes his cock and finally starts to stroke himself: he makes a noise that's halfway to a whine, his hips bucking toward his hand. Just the smell of you is making his whole body feel sensitiveâalmost possessed.
He finally caves with the fantasies. Imagines stuff that would make him die if he actually tried it in real life, but he's now convinced you've been intentionally making him think about: squeezing your curves whenever you sit pretty on his lap in public; rolling his hips against your thighs as you squirm on top of him; bending you over whenever you wear that little skirt around him and taking you like that.
It's confusing. Zankaâs not even really a fan of doggy style. Heâs a missionary kind of guy, would want to look at your face and hold your hand if he ever did somehow get to sleep with you. But heâs been thinking nonstop about fucking you from behind lately for some reason, and he's thinking about it now as he fucks his fist and groans into his used shirt, as if drunk on you.
It doesn't take long to finishâheâs been pent up for weeks, after all. His cock is twitching and his hips are stuttering and now he's spilling himself into hand, his whole body burning with shame as he cums to the scent of you. But he's relieved, almostâdesperate to be rid of the non-stop tension that's been plaguing him these past few weeks. Finally free of all his fantasies, which he hopes to tuck away and never think of again.
But as his panting subsides, Zanka realises something horrible:
He's still incredibly hard.
After his third orgasm, Zanka reasons that something must be physically wrong with him. He just can't quite figure out what. Did he accidentally ingest an aphrodisiac? Get hit by a weird vital instrument? Went too long without jerking off? He has no idea, and he can't really think well enough to figure it out. All he can focus on is fisting himself toward his next orgasm, face still buried in the shirt that you wore during your heat. Heâs already dripping and messy with cumâitâs gotten all over his fingers, his length, and now his abs, after getting rid of his shirtâbut somehow he still needs more.
His blood is scalding, his body is aching with tension. He feels like an animal. All he can think about is bending you over and fucking you, and he's glad that you've left on a mission with Follo or else he'd be at risk of going to your room andâ
âZanka?â
His eyes snap open. You're in his room, for some reasonâeyes wide, jaw slack. Your gaze is darting between his lap and the shirt he's holding against his face.
Damning evidence.
âWhat are you doinâ here?!â he yelps. He finally drops his shirt, and fumbles to pull his pants up, face burning. âl didn't want ya to seeââ
You do that thing where you ignore him again, opting instead to watch him intently. The door locks behind you with a click, and for some insane reason he can't fathom, you walk over to him and lean toward his neck.
Dread and arousal pool in his gut. His whole body goes stiff; he's trying not to grab you and pull you toward him, which is very hard when he can feel your breath on his neck and smell so much nectar in your hair. He almost can't process it when you look at him and point out, âYouâre in rut.â
Zanka blinks. âWhat?â
âYou're going through a rut, Zanka.â Your brow furrows. âWhich isn't surprising.â
He gapes at you. âWhat do ya mean, ânot surprisingâ? Of course it's surprisinâ, it ain't even possible! I'm a damn betaââ
âNo, you're an alpha.â You tilt your head. âYou haven't noticed? Most people do, right before they present.â
Zankaâs mind goes blank. He can't be an alpha. Heâs a betaâhe made peace with being a beta years ago, at the same time he made peace with being untalented, pathetic, a disappointment to his entire family, the laughingstock of Kamuatari: the Nijiku clan scion who turned tail and ran away from the Academy. Heâs even come to like being a betaâthatâs who he is, even for all the limits it's brought him. And sure, it means heâll never be enough for you, but at least he doesn't turn into some mindless, aggressive animal over yourâ
He breathes in your perfume again, and a horrible realization crashes through him.
âYou really didn't know,â you say, blinking at his expression. âI thought it would be obvious. Your behaviorâs been really odd lately. I wasn't sure if you'd turn out to be an alpha or an omega, but I guess we know now.â
His dick is so hard, he can barely think.
âBut I've been a beta my whole life,â he protestsâas if you can do anything.
You give him an apologetic look. âSome people just present late. I guess you're going through your first rut, now.â You look at him with those pretty eyes that he's been thinking about nonstop for the past month, and he swallows thickly. Realises that everything adds up. His bad moods, his antsy behaviour when he sees you with other alphas, his sudden fantasies about mounting you.
âDo you want help?â you ask mildly, and Zanka nearly jumps.
âH-help?â
âYes. Do you want me to help you through your rut?â Your eyes flick downward, where the outline of his straining cock is visible through his pants. âIâve never been with anyone during their rut before, but I think I could do it. It can't be too different from helping an omega during their heat.â
âNo way,â he blurts out, panicked. âIf I'm really an alphaââsomething that still feels like a lie, even though it's getting harder to denyâ
âit ain't safe for ya here, is it? Yer an unmated omega. You gotta get out before IâŠâ
You raise a brow. âBefore you do what? Something I've been trying to offer for a while now?â You sound faintly amused. âBesidesâitâs not like alphas lose all sense during their ruts. You could turn me down now if you want. I'll leave and lock the door to my room, if youâre that worried.â
Zanka thinks heâll die if you leave right nowâif he's cut off from your scent, your smile, you. Still, he strugglesânot only from the pain of his arousal, but also from the mad tangle of his thoughts. Alphas are dangerous for omegas, he hears his mother say. Omegas should be protected, his father echoes. There's nothing more dangerous for an unmated omega than to be near an alpha.
Please don't let them touch me.
âBut we aren't mates,â he finally says, jaw clenched, chest torn.
Your eyes soften. âYouâre so old-fashioned.â
âI justââhe swallows, suddenly aware of how clammy his hands have gotten and how much he's been sweatingââI just don't wanna mess things up between us. Or do somethinâ weâll regret. I don't want ya wakinâ up tomorrow feelinâ horrible âcause I lost control and knotted you, or somethinâ.â
âI don't think I'd mind if you did,â you say plainly, and he chokes. Feels himself going red, a full-body flush. Your mouth curls playfully, and now he's realising that you're a horrible tease. You still have a merciful streak, though: âBut we don't need to go that far,â you reassure him. âI think alphas must be pretty similar to omegasâjust a familiar scent would probably help a lot, right?â
Before he can reply, you're baring your nape to him, offering him the pretty slope of your neck. It obliterates all thought from his mind, leaves only hunger behind. He's been chasing the ghost of you through your fragrance for weeks; now you're here, in front of him, ripe and offering yourself.
It takes a moment for Zanka to realise that he's pressed his face to the crook of your neck, that his tongue is searing a hot path along your scent gland. You whimper, and the noise goes straight to his cock.
You tug him into sitting on the bed with you, giving him access to every scent gland in your body. He's torn between some animal part of his hindbrain that's screaming at him to pin you down and fuck you, and another part of him thatâs too afraid to hurt you. Being rough with you is never something he'd thought of doing before all this. And even with his supposed new, alpha instincts, it feels wrongâthis feels wrong. You aren't his mate. He hasn't even courted you a little. He should tell you to leave.
But he's also so horny he could die.
Zanka tries to spend time on your neck, not only because your fragrance is strongest there, but also because he can feel the way you shudder every time his teeth catch on your skin. He sucks gently and breathes you in; your scent blooms beautifully for him. His cock is painfully heavy in his pants, throbbing for you every time you whine.
At some point you must have pulled off your shirtâor maybe Zanka did, eager to access more of your skin. Faintly, he notes that you weren't wearing a bra, for some reason; he's too distracted to linger on it, kissing a trail down to your bare tits, his mouth hungry on them. You cry when he does, back arching as he sucks your nipples. The noise makes him groan, brings back his hindbrain instinct to pin you down and fuck you. But heâs just worried enough to stop himself: afraid of hurting you, knotting you, messing things up.
He starts touching himself instead.
He doesn't notice it until he's begun fisting his cock again, his hips jerking as he continues to mouth your tits. Heâs leaked so much by this pointâthrough his boxers, all over his hands, onto the sheetsâthat there's no point in trying not to be messy. Apparently you don't care much; he feels your hand gently touching his own, trying to palm his cock. He lets you, almost gasping when he feels your thumb playing with the head, teasing him. Then your grip firms up, warm and tender as you slowly start to pump his cock.
He whines.
It's embarrassing. Probably. Heâs too desperate to finish right now to really care. Zanka focuses on your touch, on the taste of your skin, on the little noises you're making as his tongue swirls around your nipple. He ends up panting into the swell of your breasts as he climaxesâso hard that his spend ends up covering your fingers and stomach and skirt. He keeps mouthing at you as he cums, littering your honeyed skin with marks.
He only stops when he comes down from his high. Vaguely, Zanka notices that he finally feels better, but not by much. His cock is still weeping, balls heavy even though he's just had his fourth orgasmâhis strongest yet. Even though he just got to touch you in a way he never thought he'd be able, something he thought he'd only ever experience in his dreams.
âSorry,â he pants, ââm so sorry, I dunno what's wrong with me.â
âItâs fine.â He feels your fingers run through his hair, comforting. âIâm like this during my heats, too. You don't have to feel sorry for what your bodyâs doing. Just keep going until you feel better.â
The words do something to him. Makes him give up on his self-control, or maybe it's just his alpha instincts winning out over his rational mind. Everything passes in a drunken haze: he's aware of you squirming and moaning as his mouth trails over your body again, as he presses his nose against every inch of you. He smells flowers and incense the whole time, tastes his cum on your skin, licks a path down to your thighs. Desperate to smell more of you, he pushes up your skirt, and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your pussy exposed and twitching for him underneath it. No panties. Without thinking, he closes his eyes and presses his face against youânose flat against your clit, mouth salivating against your glistening cuntâand he inhales. Takes one deep, long ravenous breath, then groans. The scent of you goes straight to his cock.
He's not really thinking when he starts to lick.
He's too far gone to use any real technique, guided by pure hunger as his tongue works on you. You react immediately: body convulsing, voice squealing, scent blossoming. Vaguely, he's aware that you're grinding your clit against him, that his hips are jerking against the mattressâhumping the sheets as you fuck his face, cock twitching and balls tightening just at the taste of you. He shudders as your fingers tighten in his hair and you pull him closer to you, drenching his face in slick. He licks and sucks at you, drinking it up greedily as be thrusts his hips against the mattress, and he's closer and closer and closer toâ
âhis vision goes white.
When Zanka comes to, he's vaguely aware of his cock spurting against the sheets, his abs growing stickier as he cums untouched just from the taste of you. There's so much of it. It's fucking unbelievable.
But it's still not enough.
Zanka needs more. He feels like heâll die if he doesn't get more of you. He keeps eating you out through his impossibly long and messy orgasm, which he's not sure will ever end. He starts sucking at your clitâall instinct, not intentionâand you whine and jerk your hips. Your body is so sensitive, pussy gushing with slick. Vaguely, he's aware of you crying his name, thighs squeezing around his headâIâm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, Zanka, Zanka, ohâ
Zanka only takes his mouth off you when you push him away, face pinched and exhausted. He's vaguely aware of you saying something about being overstimulated, but it's neither your words nor the strange quality of your scent that brings him back to realityâitâs the fact that tears have pearled at the corners of your eyes.
âWhat's wrong?â he says, leaning over you. He rests a hand over your cheek. âDid Iâdid I hurt ya? Did Iââ
âNo,â you reassure him. âNo, I justâjust needed a break.â Your eyes are still shiny, a little wet. Zankaâs never liked it when you cry, but right now it feels agonizing to see your tears, closer to a physical discomfort than an emotional one: as if it's hardwired into his body to fix whatever's upsetting you.
He crawls up and takes you into his arms, allows you to bury your face into his neck. You kiss him thereâhis scent gland, he guesses, from the way he shiversâand now he can smell the incense in the air changing, somehow. It shifts from sandalwood into something gentler.
âYou don't have to worry,â you murmur. âI really am okay.â
âItâs still botherinâ me,â he replies, disconcerted. âI know it don't make sense, but it's freakinâ me out to see you cry even a little.â
âI know,â you reply. âAlphas instinctively can't stand to see their partners in distress. It's the same with omegas. But you'll get used to it. It gets easier to ignore over time.â
He makes a face. âWhy would I wanna get used to seeinâ you cry?â
You smile at him, looking sly. âWell, most of the crying I do in bed isn't âcause I'm sad.â
Zanka feels his brain short-circuit. His concern evaporates, immediately replaced by mental images that fill him with immense guilt, even with the mind-screw of his rut. He can't help it, thoughâif just his mouth was enough to get you tearing up, then what would happen if he were to use his cock instead? And he isn't going toâhe really, really can'tâbut if he were to knot youâ
Zanka inhales sharply. Tries not to let the mental image affect him, but of course he's been throbbing and leaking this whole time anyway. You evidently notice it, rolling your hips against his so his cock is pressed against your abdomen, smearing cum and prespend across your skin.
âYou're still hard,â you murmur. âYou need more, don't you?â
âI don't wanna bother you no more,â he says. âYer tired enough already.â
You shake your head. âI'm fine.â Then you wrap your legs around him, adjust your hips and shimmy a little beneath him. âLet me help you, Zanka.â
He has a mind to protest, but his hesitation disappears as soon as you start movingâlining your pussy with his length. You don't push yourself onto him; you just let the head of his cock catch against your folds, warm and sticky for him.
Zanka shudders. He nearly thrusts inside you, but the last thread of his self-control stops him. There's so much cum coating his cock; he'd push it all inside you if he fucked you, and that would be terrible, given how fertile omegas are. Plus there's no way he'd last inside you: he'd cum almost immediately.
âWe can't do this,â he grunts out, trying desperately to cling to his senses. âI could get yaâŠâ
âWe don't need to,â you reassure him. âWe can just do this.â
Zanka doesn't have it in him to resist. He sits up, takes his cock in hand and starts moving immediatelyâdragging the head back and forth between your soft folds, smearing cum all over your clit. You're so wet that your pussy is making the filthiest noises just from this, squelching with each movement of his length. And somehow, you're getting even more arousedâyou whimper as more slick starts to leak out of you, your body unable to control itself.
He can hardly process it. âOmegas really do need alphas,â Zanka says, dazed. âLook at how you're reactinâ just to this.â
You shake your head, voice breathy as you reply: âIt has nothing to do with you being an alpha. My bodyâs just always like this around you.â You gasp as his cock slips inside you on accident; his jaw clenches as he feels your pussy twitching around his tip, and it's all he can do to stay still, panting. Nearly impossible, with how warm and soft you feel. âEven when you were a beta, I was like this.â
His breath hitches. âY-yeah?â
You nod, looking a little embarrassed. âWhen I go into preheat and I sit on your lap,â you admit, âI always ruin my panties. And during my heats, when I'm wearing your shirts and smelling you, I end up getting slick everywhere. I can't help it.â
âBut Iâmâwasâa beta,â he argues, even as his cock keeps running between your folds, even as he presses his face into your neck again.
âIt doesn't matter,â you say through your panting. âYou could have turned out an omega and my body would still act like this. I want you, Zankaââ
Your voice cuts off into a strangled moan. He doesn't fully understand why until he feels your walls squeezing around him, his cockhead pressed up against what must be your cervix. He groans as your slick drips all over his balls, which are now flush against your body.
âZanka,â you whine. âZanka, Iâm gonnaââ
You don't need to finish your sentence. Zanka feels you start pulsing around him, trying to milk him. And he's only been inside you for all of thirty seconds, maybe, but his balls are getting tight and his cock is starting to twitchâand he manages to pull out right as he peaks again, shooting cum all over your body. It splatters all over your breasts and stomach, his scent clinging onto your skinânow stronger than ever, incense and muskâbut you hardly react. You're too caught up in your own orgasm, shaking beneath him, covered in his marks and spend.
He's made such a mess of you. He'd be mortified if he weren't being driven mad by his rutâwhich Zanka is now convinced won't ever end. He's still hard, still throbbing, still needs to be inside you. You look like you're no better off, thighs rubbing together, a puddle of slick beneath your ass. Youâre just as delirious as him.
You act on it, too. Zankaâs widen as you roll onto your stomach, then stick up your ass up for him. He doesn't know much about mating rituals but he knows enough to understand what's happening: you're presenting yourself, offering your pussy to him. It's some kind of omega breeding instinct, he faintly recalls. And suddenly he's thinking of all those times you bent down around him, skirt revealing your ass and thighs, lacy panties barely covering your core. It finally hits him:
You've been presenting yourself to him for the past week.
You turn to look at him, eyes glassy, pupils blown. âI want you inside me,â you whimper. âPlease.â
Something tickles the edge of his mind. His brow furrows. âButââ
âYou don't need to knot me,â you whine, âbut I need you to fuck me. Please, Zanka, I'm so emptyâIâve been empty for so long, for so many heats, pleaseââ
The crying does something to him. Again. He needs to take care of you, to make it stop. Heâll do anything.
You whimper when he presses against your entrance again, then moan, loud and guttural, as he pushes inside you. He can't think of anything other than his intense need to fuck you, suddenly: he starts mindlessly rutting into you, his cock splitting open your pussy, wet and filthy noises filling his ears as skin slaps against skin. Zankaâs convinced he's become some kind of beastâunable to focus on anything other than being inside you.
You keen when he noses your neck again, breathes and pants against your scent gland. He can feel your cunt tightening each time he mouths at you like thisâyour skin between his teeth, fragrance blooming under his tongue. Suddenly he realises he needs to sink his canines into you, his entire body screaming with an instinct he doesn't really understand. There's a distant, human part of him telling him that's a bad idea, but it's drowned out by the boiling pressure of his rut.
Zanka opens his mouthâand he bites.
You cum when he does. Gush all over him, your arms and knees giving out. You're getting tighter and tighter, somehowâalmost as if youâre trying to push him outâand it's making him desperate to stay inside you, his thrusts getting aggressive, erratic. He groans when he finally manages to bottom out, cock deep inside you, your pussy impossibly tight. Relief floods him as he finallyâfinallyâspills himself inside you. He collapses on top of you as he does, pumping you full of cum as he licks at the mark he's left on your neck.
Some faint part of him tells him to pull out, but he realises that he can't. Somethingâs stopping him from moving his hips back, keeping the two of you locked together as he fills you up. Heâs got no choice but to lie there, letting his cock twitch and spurt inside you for what feels like forever. He's vaguely aware of you drooling onto the pillow, your eyes glassy, as you're made to take it all.
Zanka's panting and exhausted when he's finally done. Doesn't know much time has passed or how much cum he's given you, but it must have been a lot: his spend leaks out of your overfilled, twitching pussy as soon as he pulls out, and you whine as it does. He flushes at the sound and sight; he doesn't know what came over him, to leave you in a state like this. Heâs going to miss being a beta.
Zankaâs so fixated on the sight of you, it takes a moment for him to realise his erectionâs finally gone down. The haze of his rut is beginning to recede; he can hear his own thoughts again.
âIt finally worked,â he murmurs, relieved.
âFigures,â you mumble. âYou needed to knot me.â
This makes him freeze.
âW-what dâya mean?â he asks, although he's already sorting through his memories of his last twentyâthirty?âminutes. Being locked inside you. His orgasm lasting as long as it did. His sudden, inexplicable urge to bite you: something he's never thought about before.
Then he blanches, looking at the mark on your neck.
âIââ He swallows. âDid IâŠ?â
Every horrible thing he's ever heard about alphas suddenly floods his mind. The things they do to omegas in heat. Taking advantage of them while they're weak. Claiming them against their will. Knotting them and getting them pregnant. Locking them in the back of some trunk, leaving them tied up and crying.
Zanka feels sick.
You seem unconcerned though. You notice the line of his sight and touch your neck where it's still swollen and tender with his bite, wincing. âOh, this? Don't worry about it. It won't take since I'm not in heat.â
He swallows, still not allowing himself any relief. âBut⊠ain't you worried about beinâ knotted?â
âNoâitâs also low risk, since I'm not in heat. And I take meds for this kind of stuff, too.â You smile at him, reassuring. âPromise you won't be a baby daddy in nine months. You can relax.â
But Zanka can't bring himself to, somehow. Now that his headâs clear and his bodyâs calm, he can't think of anything other than the fact that he's never had any business looking at youâand definitely no business touching you like he has. And it isn't like he hasn't been pining after you anywayâlike an idiotâbut even in his craziest dreams where he did have a proper chance at being with you, things didn't play out this way.
You must sense his anxietyâmaybe in his face or his scent or his body language, he guessesâbecause youâre frowning at him, now.
âZanka,â you say quietly. âDo you not like me?â
He stares. âWhat?â
The question feels absurd. Crazy, even. Zanka just spent a month chasing after your scent and the better part of the evening knotting you. He wonders if you're joking, but youâre looking at him with an expression that can't be described as anything other than hurt.
âYou aren't happy about knotting me or biting me,â you observe. âAnd you've been ignoring my signals for months. Is it that you don't want me?â
The air is starting to change. He tastes citrus now, sharp beneath the sweetness of flowers and honey. Zanka swallows. âThat ain't it,â he blurts out. âIâI only didn't say anythinâ for so long âcause I thought there'd be no way you'd be interested in someone like me⊠I meanâyou'd be better off with an alpha, wouldn't ya?â
âBut you're an alpha now,â you point out, voice small. âShouldn't you be fine with giving us a chance? Or are you just going to make up some other reason that you aren't going to be enough for me?â
Zanka goes quiet. His first instinct is to argue with you: But you could be doinâ better for yourself. You're surrounded by people who are stronger than him, more talented than him, more than him. You're so sweet and kind. And you're an omega. You could get yourself engaged to any alpha of your choiceânot the disappointment of the Nijiku family. Not the noble scion who turned tail and ran away from Kamuatari District. Maybe it'd be different if heâd already overcome all that, like he's trying to do. But as he is right now? Zankaâs got no right to be looking at someone like you.
His jaw tightens. âI ain't makinâ anything up⊠itâs the truth I gotta be better than what I am. How am I sâpposed to ask you to give me a chance before I make somethinâ of myself?â
You frown. âIs it so hard to accept that I simply want you as you are?â you ask, and every retort that Zanka had lined up dies in his throat.
The air is thick with the scent of oranges; you've pulled your knees to your chest, and you're staring at the door. You're trying not to let it show on your face how sad you are, but Zanka knows every dip of your brow and twitch of your mouth: your heart must be hurting bad.
Zanka sighs. He truly is a scuzzball.
He pulls you in, holds you the way you like during your preheatsâwith your face close to the crook of his neck. You breathe in deeply, and he feels you shuddering against his body.
âI've been real unfair to ya,â he says.
âYou have been,â you agree, and the corner of his mouth twitches.
âI just don't wanna do things half-assed with ya.â
âI know. That's why I was okay waiting for as long as I did.â You look him in the eye, uncertainty in your gaze. âAre you turning me down?â
âNo. I'm askinâ if I can court ya.â
Your eyes go wide. You actually look a little flustered: a proper role reversal. âYou want to court me? Likeâfor mating?â
Zanka flushes, probably going bright red. He didn't think this would be such a big deal: it would have been the typical order of things in Kamuatari District. â...well, yeah? You're an omega, ain't ya? And I really like ya. If we do this, I'd be serious about it. I'd make you my mate, if you'll have me.â
You give him a long, disbelieving stareâand then you smile.
âYou really are old-fashioned,â you say, sounding endeared. Then you lean up, glowing, and press a chaste little kiss to his lips.
His heart nearly gives out.
Zankaâs eyes go comically wide. His face burns; his pulse ticks up. You blink at his expression, then start giggling.
âWhy do you look so flustered?â
His mouth opens. âYou just kissed me!â
âYesâafter you fucked me and spent half an hour cumming inside me,â you point out dryly, ignoring the way he chokes. âI thought kissing wouldn't be a big deal after all that.â
He almost splutters. âYou know I wouldn't have done that if I weren't in rut!â Zanka frowns as he tries to piece together his scrambled memories of the past couple of hours; the more he recalls, the more he wants to crawl into a hole. The bottom of a well would work just fine.
â...I did this all backwards,â he groans. âThis ain't how I wanted things to go.â
You hum, watching Zanka with a glint in your eye that makes him feel wary. You lean toward him, breath sweeping over his mouth, a playful little smile on your lips: âGuess weâll need to make up for that, won't we?â
For the next twenty minutes, you and Zanka make out like you're teenagers, which actually remains fairly tame until Zankaâs cock starts twitching back to life. He then learns the hard way that ruts can last anywhere from twenty-four to seventy-two hours, and the relief that you can get from knotting an omega lasts maybe thirty minutes, tops. A full hour if you're lucky. His first rut lasts around fourty-eight hours in total; he spends most of those two days inside you, your pussy eagerly warming his cock.
âI'm just trying to give you some relief,â you tell him at one point, voice innocent, and even with his mind absolutely blitzed by rut hormones, Zanka does not believe you in the least.
But you are very good at taking care of him. You make him drink plenty of electrolytes and get Follo and Eishia to bring you both meals. You tell his alpha friends to keep a wide berth from his room, saying vaguely that he'd caught a horrible flu and doesn't want to be disturbed. You drag him to the shower even though all he wants to do is keep you pinned underneath him in bed; you wash his back and hair, trying to kiss the tension out of his shoulders and neck as you do. You take his temperature frequently: it's unusual but not rare for alphas to get fevers during ruts. Zanka dodges this risk, but maybe only because you're letting him knot you so frequently.
Apparently as soon as youâd figured out that Zankaâs presentation was about to change, youâd started âresearchingâ how to care for an alpha during their rutâthat is, you asked Enjin and Bro point-blank what you should do. This is probably why, the morning that Zanka returns to work and enters the canteen, Bro gives him a thumbs-up and Enjin mouths a âcongratulations' at him. Or maybe it's because you're absolutely covered in Zankaâs scent and everyone in HQ can tell that the two of you had marathon sex and that he didn't bother pulling out even once.
Somehow, he manages not to die from embarrassment. But he does come close.
It's not all bad, though. Zanka doesn't mind that people know that he's yours. It calms him down whenever you pass him by and he catches his own scent clinging to you; he'd otherwise be worried about alphas giving you unsolicited attention. When he mentions this to you one day, you blink and give him a little laugh.
âBut everyone's always known that,â you giggle. âI've been scenting you for ages. Why do you think omegas have never shown any interest in you?â
Zanka isn't mad about this, exactly, but heâs still surprised. âDid everyone but me know that you were wantinâ me to court ya?â
âPretty much.â
âEven Enjin and Gris?!â
âThe two of them before anyone else.â
His mouth opens, then closes. âWhy didn't they tell me?â
âWell, Gris thought we should be left alone to work things out for ourselves, like proper adults,â you say mildly. âEnjin just thought it was funny. And he was wondering how long it would take you to notice.â
Zanka feels like he might die from embarrassment, after all. This doesn't stop him from going to Enjin for advice when you go into preheat thoughâand Delmon, too, because he's one of the few Cleaners who's been married. The two of them give very good instructions for how to take care of an omega during their heat, and Zanka is endlessly grateful for it. (He does wish that Delmon hadn't yelled it at the top of his lungs, though.)
For several days, he prepares for your heatâthe first one you'll ever spend together.
He thinks it'll be fine. Probably. It shouldn't be a big deal. You've had plenty of sex and he's knotted you plenty of times before. You're both on medication so there's no risk of pregnancy. Heâs bought enough electrolyte drinks to last a full week. All your favourite snacks, too. Heâs also prepped several daysâ worth of meals for youâapparently omegas have a weak stomach when they have heatsickness, and the canteen doesn't have any good options for you since HQ is so dominated by alphas. You burst into tears when he got you to taste-test one of his meals, then asked him to claim you once your heat started up.
Zanka is 99% sure that was just your preheat hormones talking, but it still made his entire face go red.
It'll probably be fine. There's no way Zanka could screw this up, right? Taking care of your partner during their heat should be the simplest, most intuitive task in the world. He can't be such a fuck-up that he'd fail you at a time likeâ
âYou don't have to be so nervous,â you say, and Zanka nearly jumps. âIt's just a heat. I'll live.â
âWho said I was nervous?â
âI can smell it on you,â you point out. âYou smell like cedar-leaf incense when you're upset about something. Sandalwood otherwise. Oh, except when you're horny. Then you smell like agarwood.â
âYou can tell when I'm horny?â
âOf course. If not by your scent, then because of your dick. You're really bad at hiding it when you're hard, you know.â
Zanka is going to die. This is one of those moments where he deeply misses being a beta, though not even that would apparently save him from the way his blood rushes to his dick every time he sees you. Truly damning evidence.
He expects you to tease him, but you ignore his mortified expression. Instead, you take one of his hands in yours, your thumb lingering on his wrist.
âItâll be fine. I promise. I know you'll be a good heat partner.â
You stare at your bed, then, where Zanka has meticulously set up your nestâhalf made of his clothes, half made from sheets and blankets. He scented every piece of it, of course. He's certain that he did at least this much right, so he's confused when you give him a dubious look.
âDid you make this?â you ask.
âWho else?â
You blink. âBut how did you know how to make a nest?â
âFrom the last time we did it together. I was still a beta, rememberâso I couldn't figure out what made for a good nest. I just memorized what yours looked like.â His brows knot up. âI still don't have much of an instinct for buildinâ these things, though. Guess I ain't the best alpha, but I'm learninâ.â
Zanka doesn't expect it when you laughânor when you fall into your nest and drag him down with you. You're curled up in his arms, rubbing your face into his neck, when you explain, âThat's because alphas don't make nests, Zanka. Alphas can help by scenting fabrics for their omegasâbut only omegas do the actual building.â
âOh.â He runs a hand through his hair, hoping his scent isn't giving away his embarrassment. âSeeâI still ain't the best alpha. Bet I fucked it up real bad. Let's remake it.â
You shake your head, then place a long and chaste kiss on his mouth. He tastes tuberose and honey in the air, blooming sweetly just for him. You're cradled by cotton and incense, and his heart swells when he studies the lines of your expression: safe, loved, happy.
âNo,â you say. âYouâre perfect.â
end
thank you for reading all the way to the end, you are truly god's strongest soldier <3 extra notes:
some thoughts on a/b/o and the worldbuilding/themes in this fic
FYI tamsy is actually an omega; he is just pretending to be an alpha. he actually noticed, before everyone else, that zanka's presentation was about to change lol
tuberose is a very commonly used perfume ingredient and is thought to be very sensual
summary. you and satoru gojo absolutely do not have a thing for each other. you only spend time together because of your shared affection for his dragon. at least, thatâs what you keep telling yourselfâbecause thereâs no way youâd ever fall for the most insufferably cocky, sharp-tongued, ridiculously charming dragon rider on the entire isle of berk⊠right?
alternatively, in which a dragon plays matchmaker and you save satoruâs ass.
contains. fluff, mild angst, smut (oral sex, unprotected sex, fingering, riding), action, frenemies to lovers, how to train your dragon!au. pining, idiots to idiots in love. profanity, injuries, blood, reader almost drowns, etc.
word count. 16.1k
a/n. part of the gojo satoru x httyd!au collab with @admiringlove. art by _3aem. thanks for reading!
song rec. test driving toothless by john powell
âPiss off, Gojo.â
Satoru Gojo does not piss off. Youâre fairly certain he doesnât know how to. Itâs stitched into his DNA, being an annoying twat on the good days and an all-round prick on the others.
âI would,â he says. âBut Sukuna really wanted head pats and for whatever reason, he thinks mine are unsatisfactory.â
The aforementioned Sukuna, of course, refers to his dragonâthe last-remaining Night Fury on the Isle of Berk.
âYou couldnât have picked someone normal to bond with?â you ask the dragon.
Sukuna blinks slowly, entirely unfazed, then shifts his massive head a fraction closer to your shoulder. His scales catch the sunlight like dark, wet marble, but the way heâs leaning into you gives him all the menace of a particularly clingy housecat. A housecat with fire breath, razor claws, and the ability to level a village if he ever got bored enough.
Satoru, stretched out on the grass beside him, grins. âDonât blame Sukuna,â he says, resting his weight back on his palms like he owns the hill, the sky, the whole bloody island. âHe canât help liking you better.â
âEveryone likes me better.â
âMm. Bold claim.â
âTrue claim,â you retort. You scratch absentmindedly under Sukunaâs jaw, right where the scales give way to smooth skin, and he lets out a deep, throaty rumble of pleasure. It vibrates through the ground beneath your feet, a sound that would send most of Berk sprinting for the hills. You barely flinch. Heâs impossible not to soften towardâsomething Satoru has weaponised far too often.
âIâm just saying,â Satoru drawls, âyou might be his favourite person on the island.â
âHe doesnât have many options,â you say.
âWow. And here I thought we were friends.â
You roll your eyes. âWe are not friends.â
âAcquaintances?â he tries, silver hair glinting in the sunlight and blue eyes far too bright and mischievous and knowing.
âBarely.â
âBrutal,â he says. âYou talk to all your barely-acquaintances this much?â
âOnly the ones who refuse to shut up.â
âThatâs most people, though.â
âMaybe youâre the problem,â you shoot back.
Itâs exhausting, really, how he manages to talk in italics, every word tilted just enough to keep you bristling. Heâs the single most aggravating man on the entire Isle of Berkâand thatâs saying something, considering the place is full of dragon riders who think personal boundaries is a suggestion, not a rule.
Youâd like to say you hate him. Really, you would. It would make things simpler. But hate implies he occupies actual space in your head, and the problemâthe infuriating, inescapable problemâis that you refuse to give him the satisfaction.
âWhy are you even here?â you demand finally, because youâve learned the only way to deal with Satoru Gojo is to stay on the offensive.
âSukuna wanted pats,â he repeats.
âPretty sure Sukuna can find his own way here.â
âYeah,â Satoru says, grinning wider, âbut I canât.â
You blink. âAre youâare you implying you used your dragon as an excuse to see me?â
âNo,â he says immediately, dragging the vowel out. âDefinitely not. I have so many better things to do.â
âName one.â
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Thinks for a second. ââŠPatrolling?â
âThatâs not better.â
âDepends on who you ask.â He falls back fully onto the grass, folding his arms behind his head, one long leg bent at the knee. The picture of ease, like he hasnât just casually dropped the suggestion that he wanted to see you and then refused to elaborate. Like he hasnât steadily been driving you insane since the day you met him.
The wind shifts over the hill, carrying with it the salt of the distant sea. Berk stretches out belowâscattered houses of stone and tumber, smoke curling from chimneys, dragons wheeling in the sky above the watchtowers. Out past the cliffs, the ocean flashes silver under the sun, calm for now but never for long.
âIllegal trappingâs been getting worse,â Satoru says idly after a moment.
You glance at him. âAnd yet youâre here annoying me instead of dealing with it?â
âHey, Iâm off-duty.â
âYouâre never off-duty.â
âTrue,â he admits, shameless. âBut my boss doesnât need to know that.â
You roll your eyes. The boss in question is Yaga the Vast, chief of Berk, who has approximately zero patience for stragglers like Satoru and yet, somehow, keeps putting him in charge of things anyway. Probably because when he isnât being insufferable, Satoru is annoyingly good at his job.
Sukuna shifts closer again, massive head nudging your shoulder with a low whuff. The force of it nearly knocks you off balance.
âHeâs so needy,â you mutter, scratching under his jaw again.
Satoru props himself up on his elbows to watch. âYou love it.â
âDo not.â
âDo too.â
âDo not.â
âDoââ
âFinish that sentence,â you warn, âand I swear I will throw you off this hill.â
He smiles, unbothered. âCanât, gorgeous. Sukuna would just catch me.â
âShame,â you say.
Sukuna rumbles again, louder this time, as if laughing at the both of you. Which is ridiculous, obviously. Dragons donât laugh. Probably. Youâre still scratching absentmindedly at his jaw when the shout comes from below the hill.
âGojo! Weâve got movement near the cliffs!â
Itâs one of the younger ridersâYagaâs apprentice, maybe. You donât remember his name. Heâs sprinting uphill, out of breath, waving both arms wildly.
Satoru sighs. âAnd here I was enjoying my day off.â
âTrappers?â you ask, already knowing the answer.
âYeah.â He pushes to his feet. âLooks like it.â
The apprentice finally reaches the top, panting. âThey spotted nets near the west cliffs,â he manages. âCould be setting up for a catch.â
Satoru dusts off his hands lazily, like he hasnât just been summoned to go handle the exact kind of people who would love to get their hands on a Night Fury. On Sukuna. You glance at the dragon, whoâs gone very still beside you. His tail flicks once, sharp and restless.
Satoru notices too. âRelax,â he tells him softly, before turning that insufferable grin back on you. âRain check on the head pats?â
âNot my dragon,â you remind him.
He winks. âTechnicality.â
With that, he swings easily onto Sukunaâs back, all long limbs and practiced motion, like he was born in the saddle. Sukuna launches into the sky a moment later, wings snapping wide, dust kicking up in their wake. You watch them go, a dark shape against the sunlit clouds, until theyâre nothing but a speck over the cliffs.
Youâre still staring at the empty sky when the young rider clears his throat.
âUh⊠hi,â he says awkwardly. Heâs about your age, maybe a bit younger, with a nervous energy that makes you want to pat him on the shoulder and tell him to relax. Heâs holding a map, which heâd pulled out of his pocket and now folds and unfolds with frantic hands. âYouâre, uh, youâre the mapmaker, right? The one who lives by the sea?â
âThatâs me,â you say, forcing yourself to look away from the horizon.
He nods, relieved. âRight. Yaga said to give you this. Itâs the new coastline for the north. He said youâd be able to sketch it out better than anyone else.â He holds out the piece of parchment.
You take the map, unfolding it to see the jagged lines and rough sketches of a coastline you havenât visited yet. The lines are crude, but the general shape is there. âThanks,â you say. âIâll get on it as soon as I can.â
âRight,â he says. âSo⊠you and Gojo. You guys are⊠close?â
You stiffen. The question is innocent, but it feels like an accusation. âNo. Not at all.â
He looks skeptical. âHe talks about you a lot. Like, a lot lot. Says youâre the only person who can keep up with him.
You fight the urge to groan. âHeâs a liar.â
âYeah, he is.â The young rider laughs, a short, nervous sound. âBut I donât know. Itâs weird. Heâs always, like, looking for you. Or waiting for you.â
You donât know how to respond to that. Itâs too close to the truth. You just shrug, then look at the map. âI should get going. I have a lot of work to do.â
âRight. See you around, then.â The rider turns to leave, jogging down the hill with a newfound energy, as if heâs happy to escape the awkwardness, leaving you alone with the silence, the incomplete map, and the lingering scent of ozone and dragon scales.
You look at the map, then at the sky where Sukuna and Gojo disappeared. You canât stop thinking about the way Gojo smiled when he told you that Sukuna was just an excuse to see you. It was a joke, you know that. Heâs always joking, always playing with words. But the way he said it⊠it felt like there was a kernel of truth in it, a tiny, infuriating admission that you didnât want to acknowledge.
You trace the lines on the map, but your mind is elsewhere. Youâre picturing him, the way he looks when heâs serious, the way he talks when heâs trying to get under your skin. Youâre picturing Sukuna, the way he leans into your touch, the way he rumbles with contentment. Youâre picturing the two of them, a perfect pair of chaos, a storm of annoying energy.
You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You have work to do, a map to sketch. But you canât help but wonder if Gojo and Sukuna are okay. You canât help but wonder what heâll say the next time you see him. You canât help but wonder if youâre a little bit relieved that he used his dragon as an excuse to see you.
A soft breeze, smelling of salt and distant rain, carries the sound of Sukunaâs contented rumble. You look up from your work, the firelight from your cottage flickering on the parchment in your lap. The Night Fury, a silhouette against the moon, lands with a soft thud, a dark shadow in the growing dimness. You canât help the small, reluctant smile that tugs at your lips. Itâs a happy sound, that snort of his, and itâs hard not to feel a little bit of warmth toward the gigantic reptile. The smile vanishes the moment you see Satoru Gojo dismount.
He slides off the dragonâs back and lands on the packed dirt with a huff. His silver hair, usually perfectly styled, is now adorned with a scattering of leaves and twigs, as if heâd flown through the crown of a tree. He looks ridiculously pleased with himself.
âLooks like you had a hard day,â you say, voice dry as old leather. You donât bother looking up from your map, a new survey of the eastern coast that is proving to be a nightmare of jagged inlets and hidden reefs.
âThe hardest,â he replies, walking toward the fire. Sukuna follows, a low purr rumbling in his chest as he nudges your shoulder gently. You stroke the smooth scales under his jaw.
âDid you, by any chance, get your head stuck in a bush?â you ask pointedly.
He laughs. âJust a little turbulence. But donât worry, it was for a good cause.â
You raise an eyebrow. âOh? And whatâs that?â
âWell, you know,â he says, pulling a stray leaf from his hair. âI had to make sure the trappers didnât get away. Canât have them messing up the ecosystem, can we?â
âBut your impeccable hair and abysmal flying skills get a pass, I suppose.â
âThe hair is secondary to the ecosystem, of course. Priorities, you know.â Satoru sits down on a log across from you, the firelight glinting in his bright blue eyes. âWhat are you up to? Still drawing pretty pictures of rocks and water?â
âIâm creating an accurate navigational chart for the fishing fleet,â you correct. âSo that they donât end up on the bottom of the sea.â
âRight, right. Important work,â he says. âYouâd be a lot faster if you had some help.â
âIâm perfectly fine on my own.â
âIâm just saying,â he drawls, âa second pair of eyes could be useful. Especially mine. Theyâre very, very good eyes.â
You roll your own. âIâm not interested in your help, Gojo. Or your eyes, for that matter.â
Sukuna, who had been contentedly nuzzling your shoulder, chooses that moment to let out a slow, mournful sound, as if he understood the conversation and is deeply disappointed by your attitude. He nudges Gojoâs head with his own, then your shoulder again. He goes back and forth, like a pendulum. Itâs slightly annoying.
âSee?â Gojo says, a smug grin spreading across his face. âEven Sukuna agrees. He thinks we should be friends.â
âSukuna thinks you should be less annoying,â you counter, reaching out to pat the dragonâs large head. He lets out a low rumble, pleased.
âThatâs a matter of opinion,â Satoru says. He leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. âHe told me on the way here that he thinks we would make a very handsome couple.â
You snort. âHe has terrible taste. Youâre lucky he hasnât left you for a better rider.â
âImpossible,â Satoru scoffs. âIâm the best. And he knows it.â
âAnd the most modest, too,â you mutter.
Sukuna lets out a deep, throaty rumble, and gently nudges you closer to the fire. The action is subtle, but a piece of your parchment slips off your knee and lands with a quiet rustle on the ground near Satoruâs feet. He bends down to pick it up, his long fingers brushing against yours as he hands it back.
âClumsy,â he says, but the glint in his eyes tells you heâs not talking about the paper.
You ignore him, focusing on the map, but your hand trembles slightly, and the ink bleeds on the line youâre trying to draw. You let out an exasperated sigh, and Sukuna, with a loud huff, settles down between you and Satoru. Itâs a deliberate move. The dragonâs nothing more than a massive, scaly chaperone.
âLook at him,â Satoru says, his voice softer now. âHeâs tired. Trappers, you know. Theyâre more persistent than usual.â
âDid you catch them?â
âMost of them. They had netsâone almost got Sukuna. If he hadnât been so fast, it would have been a rough night.â
You look at the dragon, who is now snoozing with one eye open, the firelight catching the dark, wet-looking scales on his hide. A sudden wave of protectiveness washes over you, a familiar feeling when it comes to the dragon. But then you look at Satoru, and see the deep weariness in his eyes, the faint lines of stress etched around his mouth, and that familiar wave of protectiveness becomes tangled with something else, something you refuse to name.
âYou should get some rest,â you say, the words feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue.
He looks surprised. âWorried about me?â
âIâm worried about Sukuna,â you shoot back, and the warmth in your stomach curdles into a familiar acidity. âHe needs his rider to be in top form. The last thing he needs is to be stuck with a tired, insufferable oaf.â
He laughs. âYou wound me. But thank you. Itâs nice to know someone cares.â
âI donât care,â you insist, and you know youâre lying. You also know he knows youâre lying. Itâs a game you play, a tense, stupid dance.
Sukuna lets out a snort. He flicks his head towards Satoru, then towards you, as if to say, just talk to each other, idiots. You want to kick him. Affectionately, of course.
âWell,â Satoru says. âI suppose I should go. Duty calls and all that.â He stands up, stretching his arms over his head before shaking it.
âYouâre going back out?â you ask, a note of alarm in your voice that you canât control.
âNah,â he says, smiling a little softer now. âJust kidding. Yaga told me to stay put until morning, âcause he said I caused enough trouble for one day.â
You let out a breath you didnât know you were holding.
He reaches down and ruffles Sukunaâs head, though his words are addressed to you. âIâll be back tomorrow for some more pats, okay?â
Sukuna huffs happily in response.
Satoru turns and walks away, a long, lanky shadow disappearing into the darkness. Sukuna watches him go, then turns his gaze back to you, his garnet-coloured eyes flashing. He nudges your hand again. You know what he wants. He wants you to talk to Gojo. He wants you to go after him.
You sigh. âDonât look at me like that. Iâm not his keeper. Iâm not yours, either.â
Sukuna snorts, a clear, exasperated sound, and settles his massive head on your lap. Heâs warm, a solid weight of comfort in the cool night. You donât bother to shoo him away. You simply sit there, under the moonlight, and stare into the dark where Gojo had disappeared.
âItâs a foolâs errand,â you say, dropping the rolled-up parchment onto Yagaâs desk with a resounding thud. The Chief of Berk, a man with a beard as formidable as his temperament, looks up from the horn heâs polishing.
âWhat is?â he asks.
âThis,â you say, pointing an accusatory finger at the map. âThe north coast. Itâs impossible to draw from the ground. Iâve only been there twice, and I spent most of the time trying not to fall to my death. The cliffs are sheer drops. The inlets are jagged and hidden. I need to map it from above.â
Yaga stares at you for a long moment, his gaze unwavering. You hold his stare, a silent challenge. Youâve never been one to back down from the Chief, a fact that both annoys and impresses him.
He sighs. âFine. Youâre right. Youâll need a rider.â He looks around the hall, his eyes scanning for a likely candidate. Your heart sinks into your stomach when he lands on the very last person you want to see.
âSatoru!â he bellows.
Satoru Gojo, leaning against a support beam, in the middle of conversation with Yagaâs apprentice, gives you a little wave.
âYeah, boss?â he calls out.
âYouâre taking our mapmaker to the north coast,â Yaga says. âShe needs to draw it from the air.â
âPleasureâs all mine, Chief,â he says, sauntering over to the desk. âNorth coast, huh? A little chilly for you, isnât it?â
You resist the urge to punch him. âIâll manage. Letâs just get this over with.â
He claps his hands together. âExcellent! My calendar is wide open.â
The next morning is cold and brisk. A light mist hangs over the village, and the air smells of wet stone and woodsmoke. Youâre waiting by the flight academy, a satchel slung over your shoulder and your sketchbook clutched in your hands. Youâve been waiting for ten minutes, which is ten minutes longer than youâd like.
Just as youâre about to turn and leave, you hear a loud, familiar whoosh of wind and the deep, throaty rumble of a Night Fury. Sukuna lands right in front of you. Satoru leers at you, seated on his back.
âReady to fly, gorgeous?â he asks.
âIâm ready to get this done,â you correct.
You climb onto the dragonâs back, settling behind him on the saddle and placing your sketchbook and charcoal pencils carefully in your lap. Sukuna lets out a low purr, a rumble that you can feel vibrating through your body. He nudges his head back, giving your hand a soft, affectionate lick.
âHeâs excited,â Satoru says. âHe loves when we all go out together.â
âHeâs excited about the snacks I brought him,â you say, pulling a piece of dried fish from your satchel and holding it out to Sukuna. He devours it in one gulp.
âYou brought snacks?â Satoru asks. âFor the dragon, and not for your very handsome and talented pilot?â
You sigh. âYou are not my pilot, and you are not getting any of this fish.â
He kicks his feet against Sukunaâs side, and the dragon launches himself into the air. You grip the saddle, your knuckles turning white. The wind whips at your hair and clothes, and you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sensation of flight wash over you. Itâs a feeling youâve never gotten used to, and itâs always a little terrifying, a little exhilarating.
Satoru leans back. âYouâre good at this. Not screaming, I mean.â
You grit your teeth. âIâm a mapmaker, not a child. Iâm used to dangerous situations.â
âOh, I know,â he says, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. âYouâre the one who saved my ass, remember?â
The memory of that night, of his blood on your hands, of the raw fear in your gut, flashes through your mind. You shiver, a cold feeling that has nothing to do with the wind. Itâs the whole reason why Satoru has made it his lifeâs mission to annoy in every possible way; itâs his way of thanking you for finding him in the woods all those weeks ago.
âIâd rather not,â you say.
He doesnât respond. Sukuna, as if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, lets out a low, questioning snort. He banks left, heading toward the northern cliffs.
The gentle, rolling hills of Berk give way to a brutal, unforgiving coastline. The cliffs are dark and jagged, the sea a churning mass of white foam. You pull out your sketchbook and begin to draw.
You work for hours, meticulously sketching every rock formation, every inlet, every hidden cove. You direct Satoru to turn this way and that, and he, for once, doesnât argue. He lets you work, his body a steady, comforting presence in front of you, ensuring Sukunaâs movements are smooth and controlled.
At one point, you get so focused on a particular series of sea caves that you lean too far over the edge of the saddle, and almost lose your balance. A long, strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back against a warm, solid chest. You stiffen, your body rigid with surprise.
âCareful,â Satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ear. âDonât want you falling to your death.â
You push him away, heart pounding. âI had it under control.â
âSure, you did.â
Sukuna lets out a low, knowing chuff, a sound that makes you want to smack him. You ignore him, focusing back on your drawing, but itâs hard to stop thinking about the feeling of his arm around your waist, the warmth of his body against yours.
âYouâre quiet,â he says after a while.
âIâm working.â
He hums. âRight. I just thought, you know, we could talk. Get to know each other. Since weâre going to be hanging out more often, we might as well be friends.â
âWe are not going to be friends,â you say for what feels like the hundredth time.
âWe are,â Satoru says. âWeâre a team. You and me. And Sukuna, of course.â He reaches forward and strokes the Night Furyâs head, and the dragon rumbles with contentment.
âHeâs your dragon,â you mutter.
âHe likes you, too. More than me, I think,â Satoru says, and thereâs a flicker of something in his voiceâsomething soft and genuineâthat makes you look away from your sketch and at him instead. His eyes are fixed on you, a strange mixture of warmth and⊠something else. You canât quite place it.
You look away, your heart pounding again. You canât handle this. You canât handle this man, this dragon, this strange, dangerous intimacy that has sprung up between you.
You land back in the village as dusk is falling. The air is colder now, and the stars are beginning to peak out. You slide off Sukunaâs back, your legs shaky from the long flight. You feel a hand on your arm, steadying you.
âYou did good,â Satoru says.
âSo did you,â you say.
He smiles, a real smile, one that reaches his eyes and makes them crinkle at the corners. Itâs a smile that you realise you havenât seen very often. Itâs a smile that makes the hollow cavity inside your chest where your heart lies skip a beat.
You turn away, clutching your sketchbook to your chest. âIâll bring this to Yaga in the morning.â
âRight,â he says. âIâll see you around.â
You walk away, but you can feel his gaze on your back. You can feel the warmth of his hand still on your arm. You donât look back.
You make it to your cottage, but you donât go inside. You sit on the stone step, your sketchbook still in your hands, and stare at the sky. You think about the north coast, about the cliffs and the caves, but also about Satoru. About the way his arm felt around your waist, about the way his smile made you feel, about the way he wasnât being annoying for once.
You hear a soft thud. Sukuna stands behind you, a small branch in his mouth. He drops it at your feet. A branch from a Night Furyâs nest. He jabs at your hand with his nose, his eyes fixed on yours.
You know what heâs doing. Heâs trying to tell you something. Heâs trying to tell you that Satoru is not so bad. Heâs trying to tell you that thereâs more to him than the smug grin and the witty remarks. Heâs trying to tell you that thereâs a place for you in his life, in their life.
You reach down and pick up the branch, then look back at the dragon. You sigh, a long, drawn-out sound.
âYouâre a terrible matchmaker, you know that?â you whisper to him.
Sukuna lets out a low purr and nudges you again. You donât know what to do. Youâre a mapmaker, a person of logic and order, and this man and his dragon are nothing but chaos. Thereâs absolutely no way anything good could ever come out of this.
âHead pats? Again?â You shoot Satoru an unimpressed glare, though the effect is rather diminished by the fact that youâre hanging upside down, trying to fix a hole in your roof. âAt least come up with a better excuse.â
âCanât. The dragon wants what the dragons wants,â Satoru says. âAnd what the dragon wants, the dragon gets.â
You grunt, shoving a loose thatch of straw back into place. Your ankles are looped around a wooden beam, your torso dangling over the edge of your cottageâs roof. The world is a strange, inverted place from this angle. The grass is a vibrant green sky, the clouds are a white, fluffy ground. Satoru Gojoâs annoyingly perfect face is floating in the air below you. Heâs leaning back, his hands in his pockets, watching you with a smile. Sukuna is a little ways off, chewing on a large branch.
âAnd what the dragon wants is for me to risk breaking my neck just so you can make a terrible joke?â you ask.
âNo, no, the dragon wants head pats,â Satoru corrects, shaking his head. âIâm just here to deliver the dragon to the head pats. A simple go-between.â
âYouâre a go-between for your own dragon?â
âLook, itâs a complicated relationship,â he says. âHeâs a very discerning dragon.â
You roll your eyes, a motion that makes your head throb. You pull yourself up, muscles straining, and clamber onto the roof. You sit on the ridge, straddling the peak, and pull a loose piece of wood from the hole. The wood is rotten, and the smell of mold and wet earth makes you wrinkle your nose. A sudden gust of wind snatches a loose piece of cloth from the edge of the roof, and you watch as it flutters to the ground and lands directly at Satoruâs feet.
He picks it up and says, âLost something?â
âItâs just a rag,â you say.
He examines it, shaking it out with a flourish. âLooks like a perfectly good rag to me.â
âItâs not,â you say. âItâs old and worn out. Just leave it.â
He doesnât. He folds it carefully and places it in his pocket, before walking over to where Sukuna is lying, and pulls out a piece of meat from his saddlebag. He tosses it to the dragon.
âSo,â Satoru says. âRoof problems?â
âNo,â you say, âI just enjoy dangling from high places.â
He laughs, a clear, loud sound that makes your stomach feel weird. âI get it. Youâre a thrill-seeker. Itâs one of your many charming qualities.â
âIâm not a thrill-seeker,â you say. âIâm a mapmaker. I prefer quiet, predictable things.â
âStill,â he says, âhere you are, hanging from a roof, and here I am, your friendly neighbourhood⊠well, whatever I am.â
You groan. âYouâre a pain. Thatâs what you are.â
âAnd youâre my favourite pain,â he says. âYouâre the only person on the entire Isle of Berk who doesnât fall all over themselves to talk to me.â
âThatâs because I have a working brain.â
He laughs again, and you find yourself staring at him. Heâs leaning against Sukunaâs side, his arms crossed over his chest. His silver hair catches the sunlight, and his bright blue eyes are fixed on you. Heâs the most infuriating man youâve ever met, but you canât deny that heâs also breathtaking.
You tear your gaze away, a flush of heat creeping up your neck. You turn back to your roof, your hands shaking slightly as you try to hammer a loose piece of wood into place. You miss, and the hammer clatters to the ground, landing with a soft thud on the grass.
âFuck,â you say, eloquently.
Satoru bends to pick up the hammer, turning it over in his hands. âFor someone who claims to like quiet, predictable things, you have a funny way of living on the edge.â
You scowl down at him from the roof ridge. âIâm fixing a hole, Satoru. Not fighting a dragon barehanded.â
âCould be both, if you fall on Sukuna.â
Sukuna, hearing his name, glances up, tail flicking idly. He looks like heâd catch you if you fell. Probably. Maybe. If he felt like it.
âVery reassuring,â you mutter. âGive it back.â
âCome get it,â Satoru says, grinning.
You glare at him. He leans back against Sukunaâs side, one long leg crossed over the other. He looks like he could stay here all day, bothering you from ground level while you slowly lose your mind above him. You wipe the sweat from your brow with the back of your wrist. The sunâs beating down hard, pressing heat into the back of your neck. Your hands are already splintered from the wood, your hair sticking to your cheeks. You have an entire dayâs worth of mapping to do but here you are, arguing with Berkâs most irritating dragon rider over a hammer.
âFine,â you say. âKeep it. Iâll just tell everyone you bullied me into falling off my own roof.â
âBut you didnât fall,â he says. âYet.â
You wish you could throw something at him. Preferably something heavy. Like a rock. Or maybe the entire cottage.
Instead, you clamber down from the roof ridge to the small platform just under it, wiping your palms on your trousers. From here, the world tilts alarmingly close. Satoru watches your careful descent with the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth, as though heâs silently grading your balance.
When you reach the edge, you stretch your hand out. âHammer.â
He taps it against his chin thoughtfully. âWhat do I get in return?â
âYour continued survival.â
âTempting.â He tosses it up, easy and careless, then finally lobs it towards you. It arcs through the air, spinning end over end, and you snatch it out of the air just in time, the impact jolting through your wrist.
âShow-off,â you say.
âYouâre welcome,â he says.
You donât dignify that with a response, instead crawling back to the hole and fitting the new piece of wood into place. The hammer thunks steadily as you nail it down, the sound mingling with the wind and the distant crash of waves against cliffs. Satoru hums something under his breath, a lazy, tuneless thing. It carries upward, curling under your skin despite yourself.
You focus very, very hard on the roof.
When the piece finally holds, you sit back, wiping your forehead again. Your arms ache, your knees are bruised, and you can feel bits of straw clinging to your hair. Glorious, really.
âDone?â Satoru asks.
âFor now,â you say.
âGood,â he says, pushing off Sukunaâs side. âBecause Sukunaâs patience is running out.â
At the mention of his name, the dragon lets out a short, sharp huff, nostrils flaring. The branch he was chewing lies in two neat halves at his feet. His pupils have gone wide, round as coinsâhis version of puppy eyes.
You narrow yours. âThis is emotional blackmail.â
âItâs effective,â Satoru says cheerfully, already strolling over to you. âCâmon, heâs been waiting all day.â
You glance from the dragonâs enormous, hopeful stare to Satoruâs infuriating grin and feel, very distinctly, like youâre being tag-teamed.
âFine,â you mutter, hopping lightly off the lower edge of the roof. You land in a crouch, knees absorbing the impact, then stand and dust yourself off. âBut only because he asked nicely.â
Satoru bows low, one hand over his heart. âAs the humble messenger of the dragon, I thank you for your generosity.â
âShut up,â you say, but thereâs no real heat behind it.
Sukuna lowers his massive head as you apprach, scales gleaming like wet stone. He makes a low, thrumming sound as your hand comes to rest between his eyes, the tension in his frame melting instantly. Itâs absurd, how such a creatureâso fast, so powerful, so fearedâcan melt into warmth at something as simple as a touch.
You scratch behind his jaw, feeling the rumble travel through your palm. âYou deserve a better rider,â you murmur, just loud enough for Satoru to hear.
Satoru presses a hand to his chest. âWounded. Absolutely gutted.â
âYouâll live.â
He leans against Sukunaâs shoulder, close enough that you catch the faint scent of wind and leather and something warm underneath. âYou always say that like youâre sure.â
âI could be wrong,â you say sweetly.
âNow whoâs emotionally blackmailing who?â
You roll your eyes. The wind picks up again, tossing Satoruâs hair into his eyes. He doesnât move to fix it, just grins at you through the mess like he knows exactly what kind of picture he makesâirritatingly golden in the sunlight, with the dragon at his side and the whole damn world under his heel.
âYou really are full of yourself,â you say finally.
He tilts his head. âTakes one to know one. Speaking of which, did I tell you about the trappers that thought they actually had a chance against Sukuna? Even I donât stand a chance against Sukuna, and thatâs saying something.â
âTrappers?â You raise an eyebrow, keeping your hand moving against Sukunaâs scales. âI thought you lot scared them off two weeks ago.â
âWe did,â Satoru says. âOr so we thought. But the funny thing about pestsââ He leans lazily against Sukunaâs massive shoulder, folding his arms. ââis that they always crawl back when youâre not looking.â
You frown, not at him for once, but at the idea of it. âWhere?â
âSouhtern Coves,â he says. âA little group at firstâthree, maybe four men. We figured they were amateurs, probably thought theyâd make their fortune dragging a few Terrible Terrors back in cages. Easy enough. Send them running, burn a net or two. Job done.â
The way he says itâcasual, dismissiveâdoesnât sit right with you. It rarely does, when Satoru Gojo talks about problems like theyâre inconveniences rather than⊠well, problems.
âBut then?â you prompt.
âBut then,â he says, drawing out the words, âwe found another group. Bigger. With better equipment. Grimborn steel nets, reinforced cages, the whole schlong.â
Your hand stills against Sukunaâs jaw. âGrimborn steel?â
âMhm.â He tilts his head, watching your reaction like itâs more interesting than the story itself. âNot something you find lying around unless youâve got coin. Or connections. Or both.â
Sukuna shifts beneath your touch, nudging his head into your palm like he can sense the tension in your shoulders. You scratch harder, both to soothe him and yourself. âThat doesnât sound like a coincidence,â you say.
âIt doesnât sound like much of anything,â Satoru counters flippantly. âCould just be a few desperate men pooling what theyâve got. Could be something else. Either way, weâre keeping an eye on it.â
You narrow your eyes. âYou mean the same group that considers dive-bombing into cliffs a legitimate training exercise?â
âWorked out fine for me,â Satoru says with a shrug.
âEverything works out fine for you,â you shoot back.
That earns you a flash of his grinâbright, boyish, and infuriating. But it fades, just a little, and he says, quieter, âDoesnât always.â
Itâs the kind of admission that makes your stomach twist, because itâs true. Riders donât always come back. Dragons donât always survive. Trappersâreal trappers, the kind with coind and steel and a hunger that isnât easily satedâdonât play fair.
You exhale slowly. âYou think theyâre after Sukuna.â
âEveryoneâs after Sukuna.â He says it like itâs a joke. âLast Night Fury, blah blah blah. People canât help themselves.â
You glance at Sukuna. His pupils are still round, content beneath your touch, but his tail lashes once, like even he knows the weight of those words. A rare thing: fear dressed up as restlessness.
An unease worms its way beneath your ribs. It feels like the calm before a storm, the air just a shade too still, the sea too quiet. The trappers Satoru described donât seem like scavengers chasing scraps. Theyâre organised. Equipped. Waiting for somethingâor someone. You hate it. You hate that Satoru can stand opposite you, hands tucked in his pockets, as though the world isnât about to tip over its edge.
âYou should be more worried,â you say finally.
âI worry plenty.â
âYou donât act like it.â
âWould it help if I wrung my hands and wept dramatically at your feet?â
âIâd pay good money to see that,â you say automatically. Sukuna nudges you again, harder this time, nearly knocking you off your feet. You steady yourself with a laugh that comes out thinner than youâd like. Satoru watches the two of you, his smile softened into something that almost looks like thought. Then, just as youâre about to ask another question, a shrill whistle splits the air from somewhere down the hill.
âShow time.â Satoru straightens, stretching his arms overhead. âSounds like theyâve spotted another group near the coastline.â
Your stomach sinks. Already?
Satoru clicks his tongue, turning back to Sukuna. âUp, big guy.â
The Night Fury rises in a smooth, terrifyingly graceful motion, all coiled muscle and gleaming scales. His wings snap open, blotting out the sun for an instant, and you step back instinctively. Satoru sings into the saddle. He doesnât look at you until Sukunaâs already crouching low, ready to launch.
âDonât worry too much,â he says. âWeâve got it handled.â
âYou donât know that.â
He grins down at you. âSure I do. Iâm me.â
âAgain?â You stare at Yaga the Vast like heâs sprouted another headâwhich, considering the manâs already broad shoulders and beard thick enough to hide a small family of sparrows, would be quite a sight. âYou want me to map out the north coast again?â
âYes,â Yagaâs voice rumbles, his arms crossed over his chest. The firelight in the great hall casts half his face into shadow, making him look even more immovable than usual. âBut this time, you go deeper. Past the cove, beyond the breakers, to the inlets weâve yet to mark. Unless we map out our neighbouring areas, how will we be able to defend Berk?â
You blink slowly, as if stalling will make the task shrink back into sanity. âDefend Berk from what, exactly? The worldâs deadliest flock of puffins?â
âFrom anyone who thinks Berk is ripe for the taking,â Yaga replies. His thick fingers drum against his arm. âWe canât pretend weâre isolated forever. Already, the trappers sniff at our borders.â
You make the prickle of unease that shivers down your spine with a scoff. âSo your solution is to send meâme, a humble mapmaker who values being aliveâto traipse along the most dangerous stretch of coast known to dragon or man?â
âYou wonât be alone. Take that scoundrel of a dragon rider with you.â
You groan, dragging both hands down your face. âNot him.â
âAs if there were any other scoundrel I could mean,â Yaga says, almost indulgent.
âSatoru Gojo,â you say, lowering your hands and scowling, âis less of a companion and more of aâwhatâs the wordâparasite. Loud, obnoxious, impossible to get rid of once he latches on.â
âHeâs effective,â Yaga says.
âHeâs insufferable,â you say.
âBoth can be true,â he says. âAnd if you want Berk defended, if you want us to have some place to safely hide, or if you want your precious maps to mean something, youâll take him with you. End of discussion.â
You gape at him, outrage coiling hot in your chest. But before you can muster a reply sharp enough to singe even Yaga the Vastâs vast beard, a familiar voice cuts through the hall.
âDid somebody say my name?â
Of course. Speak of the devil and his Night Fury, and both shall appear.
Satoru Gojo strolls in; his hair is a windswept mess of silver, his tunic is half-untied, and thereâs a cocky grin already plastered on his face. Sukuna pads in behind him, the great black beast moving silent as shadow, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim hall light.
âPerfect timing,â Yaga says. âYouâll be escorting our mapmaker along the north coast. Deep waters. High cliffs. Dangerous territory. See to it that she comes back alive.â
âYes, boss,â Satoru replies. His gaze slides to you, and his grin widens. âCouldnât stay away from me, huh?â
Your hands curl into fists at your sides. âBelieve me, if I had a choice between this and swimming naked through eel-infested waters, Iâd be halfway to drowning by now.â
âRomantic. You always know how to make a man feel wanted.â
Sukuna rumbles low in his throat, the kind of sound that could be a laugh if dragons were capable of such a thing. You swear heâs mocking you, too.
Yaga heaves a sigh. âEnough. The pair of you leave at dawn. Supplies will be waiting at the stables. Make sure you chart everythingâcaves, currents, shoals, nesting grounds. The more detail, the better.â
You open your mouth to argue, to plead, to hurl one last desperate objection into the flames. But Yaga fixes you with the kind of look that ends battles before they begin. You clamp your jaw shut.
âFine,â you mutter. âAt dawn.â
âLooking forward to it,â Satoru says brightly, clapping you on the shoulder. âYou, me, the sea, a few deadly cliffs. Itâll be fun.â
You glare at him. âYou have the worst definition of fun Iâve ever heard.â
He leans down, so close you catch the faint scent of leather and salt. âThatâs because you havenât tried my kind of fun yet.â
Before you can throttle him, Yaga clears his throat. âGojo,â he says. âI want your usual post-mission report for this one as well. How Sukuna flies, how he fightsâeverything. Not a single detail should be omitted.â
âNot just that,â Yaga presses. âEvery maneuver. Every burst of speed. How he responds under pressure. The trappers are adapting. If theyâve learned to counter one type of dragon, theyâll learn to counter another. We need to be ready.â
âOf course, boss.â
Satoru says it so confidently that it makes you want to hit him with the nearest tankard. He doesnât care about reportsâheâs probably never written anything down properly in his lifeâbut somehow Yaga keeps trusting him with âobservationsâ and âevaluations.â And somehow those âreportsâ always end up getting him exactly what he wants: more freedom, more lenience, more time spent to annoy you.
âIâm serious,â Yaga says. His gaze sharpens, sliding briefly to you before returning to Satoru. âI want precision. Not exaggerations, not flourishes. If there are trappers along that coast, I want to know how they move, what they use, where they hide. If Sukuna faces them, I want to know every reaction. Understand?â
Itâs subtle, that pause on Sukunaâs name, but it hooks in your gut like a barbed fishing line.
âYour last report,â the chief continued, âwas ten pages of what Sukuna ate, and a drawing of your own face in the margins.â
You canât help itâa bark of laughter escapes you. Satoru grins wider, like heâs proud of the memory.
âHistorical accuracy,â he defends breezily. âSomeday, bards will want to know I was the handsomest man alive while Sukuna was saving lives.â
Yaga doesnât look amused. In fact, the firelight catches on the hard planes of his face, casting the deep creases at his brow into shadows that look almost like cracks. âEnough,â he says, but this time thereâs a finality to itâlike stone slamming into place, sealing a tomb.
You should probably let it go. Keep your head down, accept the assignment, and try not to imagine all the ways you might die tomorrow. But Yagaâs words stick in your ears like thorns. Heâs always been thorough, sure, but the way he said it makes something twist uneasily in your gut.
Why does it feel less like he wants a record of Berkâs defenses and more like he wants a catalogue of its weaknesses?
You frown, shoving the thought down before it can root itself. Paranoia. Thatâs all it is. Spending too much time around Satoru Gojo rots the brain.
âSir, yes, sir,â Satoru says, snapping a salute. âWeâll chart your cliffs, your caves, your currents, your⊠cozy little hidey-holes. And if the trappers do come sniffing around, weâll have a nice little map all drawn up for them, wonât we?â
Itâs meant to be a joke. You know it is.
Yagaâs eyes cut to him, sharp and assessing, but thenâto your surpriseâsoften into something close to approval. âJust bring me the report.â
Youâre dismissed. Or maybe exiled. Hard to tell with Yaga.
Satoru stretches like a cat as you both step out into the night air, his hair catching silver in the moonlight. Sukuna slips behind him, shadow melting into shadow, only the gleam of his garnet eyes betraying him.
âThis is gonna be fun,â Satoru says.
You snort. âYou heard him. Reports, details, flight maneuversâlike youâre some glorified scribe. Whatâs he going to do, publish a book?â
âWho knows? Maybe Yaga just really likes bedtime stories.â
âYouâre going to fall if you keep bending over like that.â
The words brush the back of your neck, almost lost to the roar of the wind. Satoruâs voice, of course, because if anyone was going to ruin the thrill of flight over the North Sea cliffs, it was going to be him.
âIâm not bending over,â you snap, leaning forward on Sukunaâs broad back to adjust the rolled parchment strapped at your hip. âIâm securing the maps so they donât blow away. Some of us actually care about documenting this trip.â
âMm,â he hums, far too close behind you. âYou say that, but it looks a lot like youâre presenting yourself to me.â
You jerk upright so fast you nearly throw yourself off balance. âI will throw you off this dragon.â
Sukuna rumbles beneath you, wings slicing through the wind. The cliffs roll past belowâjagged teeth rising from the sea, waves smashing themselves to froth at the base. A treacherous coast, all jagged rocks and narrow inlets, the sort of place even seasoned dragon riders avoided unless they had a death wish. But, you remind yourself, youâre riding with Satoru Gojo. Death wishes are practically stitched into his skin.
âRelax,â he says lazily, shifting so that his chin rests on your shoulder, bold as anything. âIf you fall, Sukuna will catch you. Probably.â
âProbably?â
âEighty percent sure.â
You elbow him hard in the ribs. He laughs. The wind whips against your face, tugging at your hair and lashing past your chin. You should be focusing on the coastline, on the cliff formations and hidden coves Yaga wanted mapped. Instead, youâre stuck with Satoru practically wrapped around you like an overgrown barnacle.
Below, the sea shifts from deep sapphire to frothing white, currents curling against each other in unpredictable swirls. You sketch the outline hastily, balancing parchment on your knee, your fingers stiff from the cold. The smell of salt, the tang of brineâit all presses sharp in your nose, mixing with the faint smoke curling from Sukunaâs nostrils as he exhales.
âYouâre making that bay too small,â Satoru says, peering over your shoulder. âItâs at least twice that size.â
Your head snaps towards him. âYouâre a dragon rider, not a cartographer. Shut up.â
âIâm just saying,â he says. âIf you want this to be accurate, maybe listen to the guy whoâs actually looking down at it.â
You jab your charcoal against the parchment with unnecessary force. âI am looking down. You think Iâm staring at the clouds?â
âWouldnât blame you. Theyâre very fluffy today.â
You grit your teeth. Itâs either throw him off Sukunaâs back or commit to your map and pretend his voice doesnât grate against your spine.
The coastline curves sharply, forcing Sukuna to bank hard. The sudden tilt knocks your knee against the saddle, the parchment slipping sideways in the wind. You swear under your breath, catching it just before it can flutter away.
âCareful,â Satoru drawls. âWouldnât want all your precious squiggles to drown.â
âTheyâre maps,â you snap, tucking the roll more securely under the leather strap. âNot squiggles.â
Sukuna lurches again, this time with a force that wrenches you off balance completely. One moment youâre clinging to leather straps, the next, youâre weightlessâdangling over empty air, your stomach dropping out as the sea roars up to meet you. You scream is swallowed by the wind.
Cold air slams against your face, your limbs flailing as the ocean surface rushes closer, white spray licking like fangs. You think, absurdly, that this is it. That Yaga will get his precious map back water-stained and half-torn, and that Satoru will laugh at your funeral pyre.
The sea devours you whole. Salt scorches your mouth, icy shock steals the breath from your lungs, and the water closes like a fist around your ribs. You kick, thrash, but the waves drag you under, tangling your limbs. The North Sea swallows you whole, dragging you down, down, down. Your maps slip free, parchment dissolving into sodden clumps as the current claws them away. Panic claws harder.
Through the blur of bubbles, a shadow streaks aboveâmassive wings cutting the sky. Sukuna. You can just make out the gleam of his scales as he dives, but the current twists you sideways and drags you deeper.
You feel hands.
Hot even through the freezing water, strong fingers hook beneath your arm and haul you against a solid chest. Your head knocks against leather and chainmail. You cling without meaning to, nails biting into Satoruâs sleeve as he kicks upward, legs cutting the water with terrifying strength. The world tilts again, the suffocating weight of the sea giving way to open air as he breaks the surface.
You cough, choking up brine, the cold biting so deep it feels like your bones are splintering. But thereâs airâragged, salty, gloriousâand Satoruâs arms are still wrapped around you, keeping you afloat.
âSee?â he says, breathless. âTold you one of us would catch you.â
âShutââ you hack, spitting seawater in his face, ââup.â
With one arm, Satoru signals upward, and Sukuna swoops low, skimming the waves. The dragonâs vast shadow falls over you both, wings slicing the mist. With a smooth, practiced motion, Satoru boost you toward the saddle. You land gracelessly, half-sprawled, coughing into your sleeve. Sukuna steadies his flight. Moments later, Satoru swings up behind you, water dripping from his hair.
You twist, glaring, salt-stung eyes narrowing. âYou dropped me!â
âI saved you,â he says.
âIf youâd stop distracting me, I wouldnât have fallen in the first place.â
âAw, admit it,â he says, tugging you back against him as Sukuna banks into the wind again. âYou wanted me to play hero.â
Your jaw locks. You want to scream, the punch him, to shove him straight off Sukunaâs back. But the truth sticks bitter at the back of your throat: without him, youâd be a corpse rolling in the tide right now.
Instead, you grit out, âThe only reason youâre still alive is because Iâm too cold to kill you.â
âSure, gorgeous,â Satoru says, far too cheerfully for someone who just dove into the North Sea like loon. He pats Sukunaâs neck. âLand over there, big guy.â
Sukuna banks again, wide wings slicing through the mist as he angles toward a rocky shelf jutting from the cliffs. Itâs not muchâa spit of grass clinging stubbornly to stone, slick with sea spray and battered by windâbut itâs flat enough for a Night Fury to perch. The dragonâs claws scrape against the stone before he settles down.
You peel yourself upright, every muscle trembling from the cold. Water streams from your hair and sleeves, soaking into the saddle leather, dripping in miserable rivulets down your legs. You feel like a half-drowned cat.
Satoru swings off Sukuna and immediately shivers, shaking out his hair. Droplets fly everywhere.
âAh!â You swipe your face with your sleeve. âDo you mind?â
âNot even a little,â he says.
You clamber down less gracefully, boots squelching against stone. The moment your feet hit solid ground, the wind slices through your wet clothes. Your teeth chatter so hard it feels like they might rattle loose.
âRight,â you say, hugging your arms around yourself. âLetâs make this quick. I need to salvage what I can of the map beforeââ
âBefore you hands freeze off?â Satoru interrupts. He crouches to scratch Sukunaâs chin, even though heâs dripping seawater like a broken barrel. âSorry, cartographer, but your squiggles can wait. Weâre both shaking. Thatâs a fast track to hypothermia.â
âIâm fine.â Your voice wobbles with a shiver. âWe donât have time toââ
âYouâre not fine.â He straightens, eyeing you in that annoyingly perceptive way of his. âYour lips are purple. Youâre shivering so hard I can hear your knees clacking. Donât make me be the sensible one here, sweetheartâit feels unnatural.â
You glare. âIf I die of cold, Iâll haunt you.â
âOh, you already haunt me.â His grin softens the jab. âNow, strip.â
âIâ Excuse me?â you splutter.
âYour clothes are soaked,â he says matter-of-factly, already tugging at the laces of his tunic. âWet fabric sucks the heat right out of you. Best thing we can do is get âem off, huddle together, and hope Sukuna doesnât roast us in our sleep.â
You blink at him, scandalised, even as another violent shiver racks your body. âYouâre insane.â
âTrue. But Iâm also right.â He pulls his tunic over his head in one easy motion, tossing the dripping cloth onto the stone. The setting sunâs light catches across his bare skinâbroad shoulders, pale scars scattered like constellations, lean muscle shifting as he moves.
You pointedly do not stare.
âYouâre ogling me,â he says.
âIâm glaring at you.â
âYour glare looks a lot like ogling.â
âDie.â
âAlready almost did,â he says lightly, wringing out his sleeves. âYour turn.â
Every inch of you bristles at the command. Still, the damp fabric clinging icily to your ribs argues louder than your pride. You peel off your own tunic with stiff fingers, ignoring his wolf-whistle, and spread it on a rock to dry. The wind hits your bare skin, covered only by the slip youâve worn inside, cold and merciless, goosebumps rising instantly.
Satoruâs eyes flick toward you, lingering longer than you like. He doesnât comment. Doesnât need to. The curve of his mouth says enough.
âDonât you dare say a word,â you warn, hugging your arms over your chest.
âNot one word,â he promises, then adds, âPlenty of thoughts, though.â
You groan, dragging your hands down your face. âThis is torture.â
âNo, this is survival.â Satoru pats Sukunaâs flank, and the dragon obligingly lowers himself, curling his massive body into a crescent. His wings arch inwards, a living shelter against the wind. Heat radiates from his scaled belly.
âSee?â Satoru gestures grandly.
You want to argue. You really, truly do. But your legs wobble under you, and the promise of warmth tugs like gravity. So you crawl into the nook of Sukunaâs body, pressing against his side. Satoru follows, sprawling next to you, then tugging you firmly against him. His skin is startlingly warm, even damp as it is, and his arm slides around your shoulders.
âMove,â you grumble, trying to twist free.
âNope,â he says, tucking his chin on top of your wet hair. âYouâll freeze.â
âYouâre unbearable.â
âSo youâve said. Multiple times.â
You want to snap back, but the heat of him seeps into your skin. Sukunaâs breathing is a thunderous rhythm behind you, the rise and fall of his chest as steady as the tides. Satoruâs warmth presses into your back, his heartbeat steady against your spine.
The shivering ebbs. Your eyelids grow heavy.
You think, just before sleep drags you under, that maybe it isnât so badâbeing held like this, the storm kept at bay by dragon wings and an irritating idiot who refuses to let you drown or freeze. Youâd rather die than admit it out loud.
âOh, my Gods.â
The voice snaps you awake like a slap. Your eyes peel open blearily, gritty from salt and sleep. The first thing you see is scalesâSukunaâs broad, ridged side, still warm beneath your cheek. The second is pale dawn light seeping over the horizone, turning the sea into hammered silver. The third, and the worst by far, is Yagaâs apprentice standing ten paces away, gawking at you like youâve sprouted a second head.
You jolt upright so fast your skull cracks against Satoruâs chin.
âOwâfuck!â Satoru lurches back, clutching his jaw. His hair is sticking up in ten different directions, his chest bare, his arm still heavy across your waist. He blinks owlishly, still half-asleep, then follows your line of sight.
âOh,â he says. âMorning, kid.â
The apprenticeâgangly, freckled, barely old enough to grow a proper beardâturns a shade of crimson so bright it could signal passing ships. His dragon, a lumbering Gronckle, looks pointedly in the other direction as though it, too, is practicing modesty. The apprenticeâs mouth opens, closes, then opens again. âIâuhâyouâChief Yaga sent meââ
You scramble upright, hugging your damp tunic to your chest as though it might shield you from the apprenticeâs wide-eyed horror. âItâs not what it looks like.â
The boy squeaks. âIt looks like you and Gojoââ
âIt doesnât,â you snap. Heat crawls up your neck, sharp as the morning chill.
âActually,â Satoru drawls, still lounging half-naked against Sukunaâs side, âitâs exactly what it looks like.â
You kick him in the shin. He hisses through his teeth but grins anyway. Bastard.
The apprentice makes a strangled sound and stares very hard at the cliffs instead. His ears are scarlet. âChief Yaga saidâhe said it was urgent. Two dragons were stolen last night.â
âStolen?â you ask.
He nods quickly, eyes still fixed anywhere but at you. âBy trappers. They slipped past the watch posts by the southern coves. Took a Nadder and a Zippleback. Riders tried to give chase, but they were gone before dawn.â
You freeze, cold in a way seawater could never manage. Images slam unbidden into your head: chains biting into scaled hides, muzzles forced over mouths, wings bound and flailing. Dragons screaming as theyâre dragged into cages.
âShit,â Satoru says, the first hint of sharpness cutting through his lazy tone. He pushes to his feet, water-dark trousers hanging low on his hips. Sukuna rumbles beside him, wings twitching restlessly.
The apprentice swallows, wringing his hands, as his Gronckle hovers above the ground. âThe Chief sent me to find you. He said youâre needed immediatelyâboth of you. He was⊠angry that you werenât at the watch last night, Gojo.â
You flinch. Angry. Of course he was. You were out here, tangled up in a mess of salt, warmth, and sleep, while dragons were dragged away into darkness. Your stomach knots.
Satoruâs hand brushes yours. âNot your fault,â he murmurs.
You want to believe him. You donât.
âWhich direction?â Satoru asks crisply.
âEast,â the apprentice answers. âTowards the mainland, we think. Scouts found broken nets on the tide and claw marks on the rocks, but⊠there were too many tracks. More than just one ship. Itâsâbigger than usual.â
You hug your tunic tighter, your unease curdling into something colder. Too many tracks. Bigger than usual. And Yaga, always conveniently aware of where the trappers struck, always pushing for maps that stretched further, deeper, as though he wanted Berkâs vulnerabilities laid bare on parchment. Something ugly stirs at the back of your mind.
âGreat job finding us, kid,â Satoru says. âGo on back, tell Yaga weâre on our way to Berk.â
The apprentice nods and urges his Gronckle away. Silence stretches after his wings vanish into the horizon. The only sound is the crash of waves and Sukunaâs low, restless growl.
You finally tug your tunic over your head, the fabric clammy against your skin. âTwo dragons. Gone. While weââ You swallow down the lump in your throat. âWhile we werenât there.â
Satoruâs gaze flicks to you. âWeâll find them.â
You want to argue. Want to spill the unease clawing at your ribsâthat this isnât coincidence, that someone is feeding the trappers information, that Yagaâs heavy insistence on maps and watch-posts feels less like defence and more like design. But Satoru swings into the saddle, his hand extended down to you, and all you can do is shove the suspicion somewhere deep down where it wonât choke you.
Later. Youâll think about it later.
The ride back to Berk is wordless. Sukuna cuts through the dawn sky with a speed that makes your bones rattle, the wind lashing your damp hair against your cheeks. The village comes into viewâfirst the crooked rocks of the cliffside, then the smoky thatched rooftops, and finally the wide stone courtyard where riders and dragons gather in knots of uneasy conversation.
Yaga waits at the centre of it all, arms folded across his massive chest. His scowl alone could ward off a sea storm. Youâve seen him angry before, but thisâthis is something else.
Sukunaâs talons scrape stone. Riders hustle across the square, tightening harnesses, checking saddlebags, shouting clipped reports to one another. Dragons bristle and shift, their restlessness bleeding into their humans. You slide down from Sukunaâs saddle, boots hitting the stones. Satoru follows, rolling his shoulders once.
âCome,â Yagaâs voice booms from the centre. âWhere were you?â
âTaking the north coast maps you wanted, remember?â Satoru says. âThought youâd be proud I was finally listening.â
Yagaâs jaw ticks. âWhile you wasted time drawing cliffs, two dragons were stolen from right under our noses. A Nadder and a Zippleback. Good, loyal beasts, now likely in chains.â
You open your mouthâand instinctive we didnât know, we would have been there ifâbut Yagaâs eyes cut to you, and the words wither in your throat.
âAnd you,â he says, quieter but no less cutting. âDistracted.â
Your cheeks burn hot as a furnace. You force yourself not to look at Satoru, not to flinch under Yagaâs disappointment.
âCareful, Chief,â Satoru says, stepping forward. âSounds almost like youâre blaming us instead of the ones who actually stole the dragons.â
Silence. Riders shuffle uneasily at the edge of the square, pretending to busy themselves with tack and gear. Yaga exhales. He gestures with a curt hand, and says, âEnough. Weâve no time for excuses. Gojo, youâll take Sukuna east. Track the trappers. If theyâve gone towards the mainland, we need to know which paths theyâre using. Donât engage. Donât be reckless.â
âReckless?â Satoru echoes. âChief, that hurts me.â
âItâs meant to.â
Yaga turns to you. You thinkâhopeâheâll send you with Satoru. Youâve flown the coasts enough times now, you know the currents, the cliffs, the possible landing points. Together, youâd be faster.
âYou,â Yaga says instead. âStay here. The maps you madeâfinish them. Copy them properly, mark all the coves and hideouts. Weâll need every detail if weâre to tighten our defenses.â
âButââ You start. âWith all due respect, I should go too. I was with Satoru when weââ
âNo.â Yagaâs eyes harden, the finality in them brooking no argument. âWe need accuracy more than we need an extra set of hands in the sky. Your maps will serve Berk better than you will.â
Heat floods your chest: anger, shame, suspicion all jumbled together. The same suspicion that had gnawed at you when the apprentice spoke of too many tracks, bigger than usual. The same suspicion that whispers now: why does he care so much about this maps?
Satoruâs hand brushes yours again, quick, almost hidden. When you glance at him, his expression is unreadable, but his mouth quirks, almost imperceptibly, in reassurance.
âDonât worry, gorgeous,â he says aloud, stretching his arms. âIâll bring your lizards back safe. Maybe even some extra, if theyâre feeling friendly.â
âGo,â Yaga growls.
Satoru vaults back into Sukunaâs saddle. The Night Fury launches skyward in a storm of wings and air, climbing so fast your stomach flips just from watching. He doesnât look back, but you feel his absence immediately, like the ground beneath you has shifted.
âChief,â you try again, forcing the tremor out of your voice, âif there are more ships than usual, if this is bigger thanââ
âFinish your maps,â Yaga cuts you off, turning away.
You stand there for a long moment, your fists clenching around nothing, as riders murmur and scatter and dragons snort restlessly at their sides. Something in your gut twists again, sharp and certain. Yaga doesnât just want you out of the mission. He wants you blind, and you donât know why.
Satoru Gojo doesnât arrive back with the rest of the riders and it takes you about four hours to swallow down your pride and admit that something has gone terribly, horribly wrong.
At first, you tell yourself heâs late because heâs lazy. Because he got distracted chasing a gull or decided to nap on Sukunaâs back somewhere over the cliffs. Thatâs his style, isnât it? Careless, infurating, utterly impossible to pin down. But when the other riders returnâfaces set in grim lines, dragons shuffling uneasily on the packed earthâthereâs no trace of him.
The knot in your stomach hardens into stone.
The courtyard empties slowly, mutters and wary glances trailing after you as you linger by the dragon pens. You canât ask them where he is, not when your throat is tight with fear. You canât ask Yaga eitherâat least, not openly, when you already suspect he doesnât want you to know the answer.
Instead, you find the apprentice.
Heâs lugging a basket of fish towards the Gronckle pens, shoulders hunched. You stride over and plant yourself in his path.
âWhereâs the Chief?â you demand.
The boy nearly drops the basket, mackerel slopping over the edge. âWh-what?â
âYaga,â you say. âWhere is he?â
He stammers. âHeâuhâheâs in the great hall, I think. With some of the elders. Iâm not supposed toââ
You move before he can finish. The great hall looms at the centre of Berk. Its roof rises steeply, carved dragon heads snarling from the beams. The heavy double doors are shut, but a warm glow seeps from the cracksâtorchlight, flickering against the chill dusk. You shouldnât be here. Yaga will flay you alive if he catches you sneaking where you donât belong. But the thought of waiting, sitting idly while Satoru doesnât come back doesnât sit right with you.
You slip inside.
The hall stretches wide and long ahead of you, the walls lined with shields and old weapons that gleam in the light. Long tables stretch out across the floor, empty, a few littered with tankards and scraps of parchment. The far end is dominated by Yagaâs chair, carved from mahogany, massive enough to dwarf even him.
Itâs empty.
You turn away from the chairâbecause on the nearest table is your map.
Or rather, it should be there. The stack of parchment you left after your last session of furious sketching is gone, only a faint smear of charcoal dust staining the wood. The straps youâd used to tie them together still sit at the edge of the table, neatly coiled, but the maps themselves have vanished. Your stomach lurches.
The map of the north coast. The one you risked half your life to sketch, nearly drowned for. Every cove, every inlet, every hidden path marked out in careful strokes of charcoalâgone.
Your hand curls tightly around the strap left behind, the leather cutting into your palm. The room spins, your thoughts snarling into one conclusion: if Yaga has the maps, he didnât take them to protect Berk. And if he doesnât have them, then someone else does. And Satoru still hasnât come back.
You hurry out of the hall, past the empty pens, past the wary stares of villagers who pull their cloaks tighter as you barrel through. The sky is already bruising into night, gulls wheeling overhead in harsh cries that grate against your nerves. You donât think. You just turnâtowards the cliffs, the only place that makes sense. The north coast, where your maps pointed. Where Satoru isnât supposed to be.
The path narrows as you climb. The wind rises, sharp and cold, tugging at your tunic. The sea roars below, white foam smashing itself against black rock. Each gust shoves at your balance, each step rattles your teeth. You know these pathsâyouâve sketched them, charted themâbut tonight they feel alien, hostile.
Your lungs burn. Your legs ache. Still, you push forward, clutching your side, muttering curses under your breath.
A shadow moves above you, massive fast, cutting across the purpling sky. The figure drops lower, angling towards you. You stumble to a stop, heart hammering, and tilt your head back.
Sukuna.
The Night Fury flies through the dusk, scales glinting dark blue where the light catches. His cry rips through the cliffsâsharp, haunting, enough to send a flock of puffins exploding from their nests. The wind from his wings slams into you, sending you staggering backwards.
Heâs alone. The dragon banks sharply, almost skimming the sea, and you see a saddle still strapped tight, leather dark with seawater, reins dangling loose.
He lands on the cliffs just ahead of you, talons tearing furrows in the stone. His wings flare wide before folding in, each movement rippling with tension. Heâs restless, furious, his chest heaving and his tail lashing like a whip.
âSukuna,â you breathe, your voice cracking.
He turns at once, those twin rings of garnet eyes locking onto you. Recognition flares, but itâs not soft. Itâs sharp, wild, like heâs on the edge of bolting right back into the sky. His nostrils flare, smoke curling as he huffs out a growl.
Your legs move before your mind catches up. You rush towards him, arms out, words tumbling uselessly from your mouth. âWhere is he? Whereâs Satoru?â
Sukuna lowers his head, nostrils flaring again as though scenting the wind. His scales are slick with salt, his wings ragged from the flight, his whole body coiled tight with an agitation youâve never seen in him before. He paces, restless, claws scraping sparks against the stone. The saddleâs empty. Satoruâs gone.
The thought claws at your skull, frantic and ugly, but you push it down, shove it away, refuse to let it root. âTake me to him,â you say. âYou hear me? Take me to him!â
Sukuna freezes. His head tilts, eyes narrowing, sharp and assessing. You think heâll refuse, that heâll vanish into the sky without you. But he shoves his massive snout against your shoulder, hard enough to nearly knock you flat. His wings flare again. Itâs not an invitation. Itâs a command.
Your hands fumble with the saddleâs straps as you clamber up, fingers numb, stomach twisting. The moment youâre seated, Sukuna surges forward, leaping into the air and spreading his wings. The world drops away beneath you, cliffs shrinking, sea spreading endless and merciless below. Wind tears at your face, your hair, your clothes. You clutch the straps tightly, the air freezing your cheeks, your heart slamming so hard you canât tell if itâs fear or relief.
Sukuna doesnât soar, doesnât play with the air currents or bank lazily just to terrify you the way Satoru likes to. He cuts through the night like an arrow, wings beating ruthlessly, each downstroke flinging you forward until your stomach lurches. The North Sea yawns before you, and the cliffs crawl past in uneven shadows.
âWhere are you taking me?â you shout, though the wind steals most of it away. Sukunaâs neck stiffens, his flight angled low, purposeful.
The further north you go, the rougher the landscape grows. The cliffs rise higher, crueler, sharpened by centuries of waves gnawing at their base. The moon breaks through the clouds in flashes, silvering the rocks. Youâve charted these shores on parchment, every inlet and alcove, but in the dark, they look unfamiliar.
Sukuna dives. The drop rips the breath from your chest and tears your stomach into your throat. You can only cling and pray as he folds his wings tight and plummets. At the last possible instant, he flares his wings wide, landing with a shuddering crash onto a stretch of uneven stone, claws biting through moss and shale.
You scramble down, your boots skidding on slick rock as Sukuna growls. Ahead, the cliffs hollow into a cove, a natural amphitheatre of stone and sea. Torches burn inside, small orange flames that lick against the rock, wrong against the wild dark.
In the centre of it all: Yaga.
The Chief of Berk stands with his arms crossed, broad shoulders squared and cloak snapping in the wind. His great beard glints ruddy in the torchlight. But it isnât him that makes your heart stutter. Itâs whatâs at his feet.
Satoru.
Heâs on his knees, wrists bound in thick rope, head tilted at an insolent angle that doesnât quite hide the blood streaking down his temple. Even half-slumped, even gagged with a strip of cloth knotted cruelly between his teeth, he radiates infuriating carelessnessâeyes narrowed, expression hovering between boredom and mockery.
You make a soundâsomething strangled, something uselessâand stumble forward, only for Sukuna to block you with a sweep of a wing. He growls again.
âFinally,â Yaga says. His voice booms off the rock, heavy, immovable, the kind of voice that fills halls and commands loyalty. âI was beginning to think youâd abandoned him.â
âWhat are you doing?â you manage to ask.
âWhat I shouldâve done the moment that creature set foot on Berk.â His eyes cut to Sukuna. âThat dragon is too dangerous to be left in the hands of a fool. Or worse, shared between fools. Give him to me, and I may let Gojo live.â
Satoru makes a muffled noise behind the gag, rolling his eyes so hard you half-expect them to stick. You can almost hear his voice anyway: Donât listen to the old man, gorgeous. He just wants my dragon âcause he doesnât have one of his own.
Your chest feels too small, your pulse hammering against your ribs. âYouâyou canât mean that. Sukunaâs not a weapon. Heâs notââ
âHeâs a Night Fury,â Yaga says. âDo you have any idea what that means? The power he carries? No village could stand against us if he were ours. No trapper would dare threaten us. Berk would be untouchable.â
âHeâs not yours,â you say.
Yagaâs gaze flicks past you. âAnd yet here he stands, listening to your commands. Think, child. Youâve seen the cliffs, the danger at our borders. Berk is one storm away from ruin. I wonât gamble its survival on the whims of a dragon who answers only to Gojo.â
Satoru gives a muffled, derisive laugh that earns him a kick to the ribs. He tips his head back, gag muffling whatever clever retort he tried to spit out.
âIs that why you funded the trappers to surround your own village, Yaga?â you ask, mustering up all the courage you own.
Yaga stills. His boot rests against Satoruâs ribs, his shadow thrown long against the cove wall. His lips twitch beneath his beardânot surprise, not shame. Annoyance.
âYou shouldnât know that,â he says slowly. âThe apprentice talks too much.â
âYou set them on us. You set them on him.â
A sound splits the nightâmetal ringing against stone, boots crunching over gravel. From the shadows at the edges of the cove, men appear. Rough-spun leather, ragged furs, nets rolled thick over their shoulders. Their faces gleam with salt and grease, their eyes hungry. Dragon trappers. You know them by the stink alone: fish oil, blood, old smoke. They slip from the dark like wolves, more than a dozen, maybe more, their movements practiced, circling.
The torchlight catches iron chains coiled in their fists. Hooks. Bolas. Shackles built for wings, not wrists.
âYouâre working with them?â you say.
âIâm using them,â the chief says. âThey have the means, the tools that I donât have.â
You think of the maps gone from the hall, the apprenticeâs trembling mouth, the sidelong glances of riders who returned without their strongest, without him. Pieces snap into place with a sickening clarity.
âYou sold us out,â you whisper again. âYou sold him out.â
âI did what I had to. Berk survives because I make hard choices. You, girlâyou make sketches. You play at your little maps, but IâI see storms on the horizon. Dragons beyond counting. Trappers fattening themselves on our weakness. Do you think a village of fishers and smiths can stand against that? No. But with a Night Furyâwith that beast, Berk rules the seas.â
Sukunaâs growl reverberates through the rock beneath your feet. His pupils pinprick, his wings hitch upward, every line of his body coiled to strike. You know he understands enoughâtone, intent, threat. He does not know, yet, how to forgive.
âTell me,â Yaga says, low and inexorable, âwhatâs one boyâs life against the safety of a whole people?â
Satoru chooses that exact moment to lurch upright against his bindings, muffling something sharp and entirely unhelpful through the gag. You catch the roll of his shoulders, the tilt of his chin, and you know the shape of those words even if you canât hear them. One boy? Try national treasure, old man.
You almost laugh.
Chains rattle. The trappers are closing in. Their boots scrape the shale, torches lifting higher, nets poised to fly. The scent of pitch and iron stings your nose. There arenât raiders in passingâtheyâre hunters, professional, and theyâve been waiting.
You step forward, planting yourself between them and Sukunaâs flank before you even think it through. âIf you think heâll ever obey you, youâre a bigger fool than I thought,â you bite out. âSukuna isnât a weapon. He isnât yours to wield.â
âHe will be.â
The nearest trapper lunges. A net arcs through the air, weighted corners sparking as they whip forward. You throw yourself sideways, but you neednât have botheredâSukunaâs blast rips it to cinders mid-flight. The explosion lights the cove for a split-second, dazzling white, searing afterimages into your vision. Rock shatters, smoke plumes, men scream.
The Night Fury roars.
The sound is primal, thunder given flesh. Sukuna surges forward, plasma bursting from his jaws in ragged, relentless blasts. Trappers scatter like startled crabs, some diving for cover, others spinning their chains desperately to keep him back. One man screams as his bolas ignite mid-spin, molten metal splattering his arm.
You drop to Satoruâs side in the chaos. He turns his head sharply, eyes catching yours, blue in the firelight, furious and alive. Your fingers fumble at the knots. The rope is soaked with seawater, swollen tight, cutting into your palms as you fight with it.
âHold still,â you hiss, though heâs hardly moving.
He snorts through his gag. The knot slips at last. The rope slackens, and Satoru jerks his wrists free with a hiss. He tears the gag from his mouth, coughing once before grinning up at you, that same insufferable smile that somehow hasnât dulled even after being tied and bloodied.
âMiss me?â he drawls.
You shove his shoulder. âGet up.â
âOh, I plan to.â Satoruâs gaze flicks past you, to Yaga still looming at the centre of it all.
Sukuna lashes his tail, knocking two trappers flat, and wheels his head back towards you both, plasma building in his throat again. The trappers rally, more of them pouring from the shadows at the mouth of the cove, their nets glowing with oil to withstand fire, their bolas gleaming with sharpened edges meant for wings. Their shadows jitter grotesquely against the cove walls, wolfish and endless. Sukunaâs blasts have rattled them but not broken themâthey circle tighter, nets at the ready.
A horn splits the night.
Itâs high and keening, rolling down from the cliffs above. The kind of sound that makes your chest tighten because you know it: Berkâs call to arms.
Shapes tear through the dark sky. Dragons. Not one, not twoâa little less than a dozen, wings beating hard, riders silhouetted against the clouds. Their cries cascade through the airâthe iron thrum of Nadder wings, the heavy, beating thunder of a Gronckle, the shriek of a Zippleback.
The riders dive. Bolas meant for Sukuna snap backward, suddenly tangled in fire. A trapper screams when a Deadly Nadderâs spines pin his arm to the cove wall. Yagaâs apprentice clings desperately to his dragonâfar too small for this fight, a Gronckle, wings buzzing franticallyâbut his horn blast keeps sounding, rallying the others.
âTraitors!â Yaga bellows. His face is red with fury, veins bulging in his temple. âDo you side with him over your own chief?â
âOver a traitor, yes!â the apprentice shouts back.
The cove fractures into chaosâdragons wheeling, trappers shouting, nets burning in mid-air. Sukuna tears through them, plasma lighting up the night. You turn towards Satoruâonly to freeze.
Yagaâs hand clamps down around your arm, thick and brutal, yanking you off your feet. The world spins; your back slams against his chest, his arm like an iron band around you. He drags you towards the cliffâs edge, gravel skittering into the black maw of sea below.
âStop!â His roar drowns even the dragon cries. âOr she falls!â
Sukuna halts mid-pounce, talons gouging sparks in the stone. The other riders hover, their dragonsâ wings beating the air in slow, heavy pulses. Even the trappers hesitate, chains slack in their hands. The sea crashes below, white foam gnashing against the rocks, a drop so sheer it makes you feel nauseous.
Yagaâs breath rasps against your ear. âThe Night Fury, girl. Give him to meâor youâre gone.â
You twist, fighting against his grip, nails digging into his arm, but heâs immovable, a wall of muscle and conviction. He jerks you closer to the edge, and the heel of your boot slips on loose gravel. Your weight tilts towards the abyss.
Somehow, impossibly, you make eye contact with Satoruâastride Sukuna. His white hair gleams in the torchlight. Sukuna crouches beneath him, plasma pulsing faintly in his throat, tail still twitching.
Satoruâs lips move.
Eight percent.
You blink, barely comprehending. âWhat?â you croak out.
Eighty percent.
Suddenly, you know. He wants you to trust him. He wants you to fall. Itâs insane. Itâs impossible.
The apprentice screams your name from somewhere above. The riders shout warnings. The trappers lunge forward, seeing their chance. Yaga tightens his grip, preparing to hurl you like discarded cargo into the sea.
You make the choice first.
Your knees buckle, and you let yourself go slack. His grip loosens in shockâjust enough. You wrench sideways, twist hard against his hold, and throw yourself forward into the air.
The sea roars up to meet you. Wind tears your scream to shreds. Thereâs only the bacl water yawning wide, jagged rocks slick with foamâuntil Sukuna dives down, his wings folded tightly. He rockets down the cliff face, plasma sparking in his jaws. You glimpse Satoruâs silhouette against the stars, leaning low in the saddle, eyes locked on you.
The air sears past your skin, the spray of the sea already stinging your face. Claws close around you.
Sukunaâs talons scoop you from the air. The force of it nearly rips the breath from your lungs, but the relief, the sheer surge of it, blinds you more than the wind. He angles upward in a steep climb, wings snapping wide, hauling you clear from the rocks and the ravenous waves.
Youâre pressed tightly against his chest, his claws curled just enough to cage you without harm, his scales hot with exertion. Above you, astride the saddle, Satoru twists in his seat, grinning down at you.
âSee?â he calls. âTold you. Eight percent.â
You want to hit him. You want to kiss him. You also want to scream.
Instead, all you manage is a hoarse, furious, âYouâre an idiot!â
Your first kiss with Satoru Gojo occurs because of Sukuna.
Not because you wanted it to. Gods, no. Youâd rather have wrestled a Gronckle with one arm tied behind your back than admit you were even remotely tempted by the smirk plastered across Satoruâs stupid face. But Sukuna, traitorous beast that he is, decided that enough was enough.
It starts when the Night Fury refuses to let either of you down. Youâre sore from the fight, ribs aching where Yaga had grabbed you, salt still drying sticky on your skin. Youâve been through enough for one night, and all you want is the ground. Just solid ground beneath your feet.
Sukuna, it seems, has other ideas.
He lands not on the village cliffs, not near the dragon pens, but on the highest bluff overlooking Berk. A windswept place where he knows neither of you can escape quickly. He lowers his head, eyes narrowing with that calculating look he always gets when heâs three steps ahead of everyone else.
You try to slide off the saddle. His tail lashes, blocking your path.
âReally?â you snap, shoving at the scaled wall of muscle. âIâve had enough for today.â
âHe just doesnât want us to leave,â Satoru supplies. âCan you blame him? We make such a great team.â
You whirl on him. âYou nearly got yourself killed.â
âNearly. Keyword.â
Your teeth grind. The wind snaps your hair into your eyes, the sea growls far below, and Satoru isâwell, Satoru. All flippant grins and infuriating calm, as if Yagaâs betrayal, the trappers, the near loss of Sukuna, none of it left so much as a scratch on his spirit.
You jab a finger at his chest. âYou think this is funny? You were gagged and tied andââ
ââand you swooped in and saved me,â he says. âAdmit it, you couldnât stand to see me suffer.â
âYouââ you splutter. âIâ Thatâs notââ
Sukuna rumbles, wings settling around you both like a barricade. His eyes gleam faintly in the dark, twin garnets pinning you where you sit. You realise too late: heâs cornered you.
Satoru tilts his head. âYou hear that? Heâs saying we should kiss and make up.â
âHe is not,â you say flatly.
âHe definitely is,â Satoru insist. He leans in just slightly, enough to test the boundaries, enough for your heart to betray you by stumbling over itself. âCâmon. Wouldnât want to upset him. Heâs had a rough day too.â
You glare, but the problem is that Sukuna seems to agree. He nudges the both of you closer with the blunt force of his snout, nearly toppling you into Satoruâs lap. The dragon huffs smoke, satisfied, before curling into the stone and laying his head flat as though to say, Now behave.
You should shove Satoru away. You should storm off, make the climb down the cliffs yourself, risk the dark. Anything but this.
Yet. The adrenaline of the fight still thrums through your veins. Your pulse hasnât slowed since you saw him bound on his knees, blood dripping from his temple, smirking like a madman even then. You remember the feel of the rops cutting your palms as you freed him, the wild terror that maybe youâd been too late.
Maybe thatâs why you donât shove him away. Maybe thatâs why you let him close the distance, why your lips meet his halfway in a kiss thatâs less a decision and more a consequence, inevitable as the tide.
Itâs clumsy, at first. Youâre too angry, heâs too smug. But he softens into it, just a little, and you hate the way the ground seems to tilt under your feet, hate how the world narrows to salt air and warmth and the reckless promise of him.
When you finally break apart, breathless, Satoru grins like heâs just won a war.
âKnew you liked me,â he says, blue eyes sparkling.
You shove him hard in the shoulder, though your face burns hot. âThat was for Sukuna,â you say.
The dragon rumbles again, smug as any beast can be. Satoru only laughs, tipping his head back, and pulls you in for another kiss.
Itâs ecstatic, the feel of Satoruâs tongue lapping at your folds.
His tongue is wet and hot as it laps over the sensitive nerves, and you can feel the way he hums happily as he laps at the juices that drip onto his waiting mouth. Youâre sure his face is going to be covered by the end of this, but it seems like he couldnât care less, if his moans and groans are any indication. Your fingers tangle in his white strands of hair, gripping hard to keep him where you want him. His arms are wrapped around your legs, keeping them open as he feasts on your cunt. You can see the muscles in his back flexing as he tries to get closer, get deeper, and you can only hold on for dear life, feeling the way he drives you higher and higher towards your orgasm.
Satoru is making a mess of himself, and you know he has a thing for being covered in your slick.
The moment the thought passes through your head, you canât help the cry that escapes, a full-body shiver wracking through your body. He groans into you, the sound vibrating against your skin, and you feel his tongue move in a way that you know has him spelling his name, over and over again. You tug at his hair, trying to move him, but his arms tighten and he doesnât budge.
You let out a moan, trying to speak. âSatoru, IâI need you. Inside me. Now.â
He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. âOne more, gorgeous. Give me one more, and then Iâm all yours.â
You whine, feeling the heat in your stomach build, and Satoru continues to eat you out. Your back arches off the bed, and you grip his hair tighter. Your thighs start to close around him; he lets go of one of your legs to press two fingers into your heat, pressing right into that spot that has you crying out his name, curling his fingers as his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit. Your body shakes, and you cry out his name, feeling the way your cunt tightens and throbs around his fingers.
Satoru groans, moving his face away from your core and watching as the aftershocks of your orgasm make your body tremble. He pumps his fingers slowly, prolonging your pleasure, and you whine at the sensitivity.
He smiles softly, kissing the inside of your thigh, before removing his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and licking the juices that cover them. He lets out a pleased moan, eyes locked onto yours, and moves to kiss you.
His lips are warm, and you taste yourself on his tongue. It only serves to rile you up more when you feel the way his cock throbs where it presses against your thigh. You raise your legs to wrap them around his hips, and you push him lightly. Satoru moves willingly, letting out a moan as he lies on his back. He grips the sheets in anticipation, watching as you straddle his lap. He groans, feeling the way your cunt settles on his thighs. You smile, running a finger down his chest, and he bucks his hips in response.
You let out a gasp when the tip of his cock rubs against your folds. He moans.
Satoruâs hands grip your hips tightly, and his thumb rubs circles on your skin. You can feel the way he trembles under you. Your hand wraps around his cock, pumping lightly; he whines. You position the tip at your entrance, rubbing it against your clit, and moan.
âStop teasing,â he groans, and you grin.
âOr what?â you taunt, grinding against his length. âAre you going to punish me, Satoru?â
He growls, hips jerking upwards. You gasp, feeling the tip rub against your folds, catching at your slit, and try to lower yourself. But Satoru tightens his hold, not letting you sink further onto his cock. You glare at him.
âI should,â he says, and suddenly his arms are around you, flipping you onto your back.
He settles between your thighs, his arms framing either side of your head. His hair falls into his eyes, and you can feel his cock brushing against your folds. You move your arms to wrap around his shoulders, nails scratching lightly down his back.
Satoru groans, burying his head in your neck, nipping lightly.
âFuck,â you breathe out, feeling his hips jerk.
The tip of his cock rubs against your clit again. He lets out a breathless laugh.
âI will,â he respondsâonly to be interrupted by a loud, keening wail from outside your cottage door.
The sound is so piercing, so demanding, that for a moment you think some villager has wandered into mortal peril right outside your door. But noâno, you recognise that guttural, almost petulant cry. You and Satoru both freeze.
âWas thatââ you start.
Another wail, louder this time, rattles the hinges of your cottage, followed by the unmistakable scrape of claws against wood.
Satoru drops his forehead against your collarbone. âYouâve got to be kidding.â
The Night Fury wails again, insistent, tail thudding against the doorframe. You bite back a laugh, half-giddy, half-exasperated, and say, âI think someone wants attention.â
Satoru lifts his head, hair mussed and eyes narrowed. âHeâs the worst cockblock in history,â he mutters. âTell him to go hunt some haddock or terrorise the chickens, orâGods, literally anything else.â
The next sound isnât just a wail. Itâs a low, mournful croon that slides under your ribs and squeezes. Sukuna isnât just loudâheâs lonely.
You soften, even as Satoru makes a strangled noise of despair above you. âSatoruâŠâ
âNo,â he says, rolling off you onto his back. âNo, no, donât you dare give him those eyes. He doesnât deserve those eyes. I was right there, gorgeousâright there.â
Youâre already tugging your tunic back over your shoulders, laughing despite the ache in your belly. âHeâll tear the cottage down if we donât.â
Satoru throws an arm over his face, groaning into the crook of his elbow. âI hate him. I actually hate him.â
But when you slip to the door and crack it open, Sukuna is there, his massive head lowered to the threshold, those garnet eyes glowing with expectation. He snorts the moment he sees you, bumping his snout against your chest.
âAlright, alright,â you murmur, your hands automatically smoothing over his warm snout. âHead pats. Happy?â
Sukuna rumbles, pressing harder into your palm. Satoru groans again. âUnbelievable. My dragon. My dragon just stole my girl. Iâm doomed.â
You glance over your shoulder to find him sprawled on the bed, hair a disaster, chest heaving, the blankets thrown over the lower half of his body. Heâs sulking. You grin.
âMaybe he just knows when to step in,â you tease, scratching gently at Sukunaâs scales.
âStep in? He barged in. He ruined history in the making.â
Sukuna lets out a little huff and nuzzles harder against your hand.
Satoru groans once more, louder this time, dragging the pillow over his face. âIâm moving out.â
a/n (again). a big, big thank you to @admiringlove for agreeing to collab with me, putting up with my endless rants about writerâs block, and refusing to let me abandon this fic. i love u. also, a huge huge thank you to @jeonwiixard for supporting me so much, (also) listening to me rant about my crippling writerâs block and beta reading this as soon as i sent the google doc to her; i love u too. thanks for reading, and be sure to check out samâs gojo httyd!au installment as well! đ„°
Synopsis. Five times the elders of the Sukuna household are sure their fearsome clan leader is impotent, and the one times he makes them realize - Ryomen Sukuna is feraI. For you.
âBuckle up, boys. This might be the most important event of our lives.â Itadori Jin has never taken his role as older brother so seriously.Â
Locked in a team huddle with his father, the elders, and a very reluctant, recently-married Ryomen Sukuna. âDad- youâre on the romantic music. Council- youâre on the rose petals. Iâll be outside on the phone with the fire department, the exorcist, the-â
âItâs my wedding night?â
âExactly.â
With a final clap of determination, the group shoves their clan leader towards the bed chambers. Ignoring his grumbles of- âBut the ladies love me.â
âRyo, youâve been single your entire life.â
ââŠâ Okay, perhaps Jin was right. Itâd been a traditional arranged wedding, yours being the only proposal that the infamously cold Sukuna had even looked at, let alone agreed to.Â
But he clasps the polished doorknob, âIâll give ya an heir.â Opening. âJust you watch, Iâll give ya four heirs, maybe five, maybe sixâoh.â
Until he saw his pretty wife.
Even more gorgeous than youâd been during those brief formal interviews, between clans and council members who nudged each other at the fact that he had finally chosen a bride.Â
Youâd swapped out your wedding robes for an actual robe that was muchâŠriskier. Stuck to your skin, glistening in the faint candlelight. You were semi-sprawled comfortably across the bed, having patiently waited for their âteam meetingâ to have finished.Â
And Sukuna wouldâve yelled at any of them for gaping stupidly from the doorway, he should have - if he wasnât gaping stupidly himself, that is. Lips parted, crimson eyes bulging.Â
This was the clan leader rumored by some to be a monster, and rumored by others to fight like a monster: now fully frozen at the sight of you.Â
It takes about seven different council members and Itadori Wasuke poking Sukunaâs muscular back with his wooden cane to make him move. âRyo-â Jin hisses in slight concern, fingers starting to itch towards his phone, namely in the sequence of the emergency number heâd memorized for tonight. âRyo move- you- oaf-âÂ
Respect for the head of the household be damned, they were deadset on bullying him inside the romantically-decorated room. Finally making him move one foot. Two.Â
As soon as he staggers through the entrance, the towering mahogany doors then slam shut behind him. Somewhat snapping Sukuna out of his little reverie - somewhat. He shakes his head free of that vision of you, gaze dropping to the floor- anywhere but where you were sitting, so beautiful and unbothered.Â
An heir.
Right, an heir. What was that nonsense about six heirs? Right now, he felt heâd be lucky to get to not faint.
âI uh-â You lean closer with a smile when he starts to sputter out, and the act itself nearly makes him take a step back. Heart rushing to the surface of his tattooed skin, âAh, I mean-â
He gulps. And almost as if they were sensing the tension inside the bedroom, the group outside abruptly starts up the distant saxophone of a George Michael. It filters through the slight gaps of the doorway and into the thick silence inside.Â
You were looking at him with a raised brow, clearly waiting for him to speak first with his interesting reaction.
Which is exactly what Ryomen Sukuna does - exactly why he clears his throat gravely. All seven feet of his figure straightening, toned chest puffing out. Jin had told him to smile before he smoldered, and right now Sukuna does neither. Only asking in grim seriousness-
âSo are you uhâŠopen-minded?â
âWhat?â
âWhat?â
BANG!
Heâd removed himself from the honeymoon suite before you could even blink.Â
And as you sat up on the bed in genuine confusion, the clan leader outside - your husband - was crouched against the now-closed bedroom doors. Knees to his pecs, all four palms coming up to cover his face- though, they do nothing to hide the scorching red flushed at the tips of his ears.Â
The elders can only gawk; theyâd known Sukuna since birth, and never had he acted in this manner. Never had he been so flustered, blushed so bright that it looked like he was steaming from his very skin. Flinching at the touch of his brother, he groans once the older one starts punting him with questions.
Jin squawks, âIs your wife okay- are you okay?â
âYes- no.â
âDo I need to call the fire department?â
âNo.â
âThe exorcist-â
âNo no no- fuck! She was just soâŠâ Sukuna finally manages to string together more than one coherent syllable, running his hefty fingers down his features, like he wanted to scrub the embarrassment off of him. And the tail end of his response rings out as nothing but a whisper. So small, so shy. ââŠbeautiful.â
He looks up at the circle surrounding him like he was pleading, âSo, so beautiful.â Baritone dropping into an even lower volume, he scratches the back of his head like a child recounting a crush. âAnd she- she smiled at me, heh. Whatâd I do to end up with a wife like her?â
The elders and family members look at each other.Â
Silence.
At least, as much silence as you could get in the Itadori Estate. Because, before long, Wasuke clutches his aged heart and gasps, âNo!â Only once every pair of eyes has turned to look at him- âMy son has no game.â
The emergency services were called that night.Â
Though, itâs more for a health check on his fatherâs heart than for anything gone wrong with your honeymoon. And Jin thinks thatâs pointedly to do with the fact that you donât have a wedding night - at least, not in the sense of the word.Â
After heâd offered Sukuna a general health check-up too (heâd vehemently denied) and a heart check-up in particular (heâd considered) youâd finally ended up walking out of the bedroom. Barely getting through one word of their overlapping explanations before youâd held up a hand.Â
âItâŠactually might be better if I donât know.â Youâd sagely remarked, and quite smartly. Before turning to your new husband, whoâd all but cowered at your gaze, âBut you need to get some sleep, mister. Donât think I donât know about how cranky you get otherwise.â
âHell yeah, maâam. So true, maâam.â
And Sukuna had sauntered back into the marital suite of his own accord, for a night of sleep. Nothing but sleep - though, Jin thinks he caught Sukuna fist pumping in celebration when you insisted he didnât have to sleep on the couch.
There seemed to be no hope for an heir that night. Or, ever, at this rate.
And the trusty council of elders that were present would later retell the story in the morning after, with varying degrees of humor - some cackling about the fearsome headâs one weakness, others grieving the lack of heirs that the Itadori clan shall now have.
But most had been left with quite a different impression. They eyed each other during breakfast, when youâd come down with no marks, no signs of lost sleep. Surely, there was no other explanation - Ryomen Sukuna was impotent.Â
He might not be the sweetest clan leader, or the most empathetic, or clearly the most savvy with the ladies, but he was their leader nonetheless.Â
And they had to do everything in their power to help.
.
.
.
â-and then the olâ man starts playing fuckin- I mean, freaking âCareless Whisperâ and then I make a fool of myself-â
âMhm.â
â-but she was oh-so-sweet about it. Which makes no sense, how can one be beautiful and sweet? I mean, look at me- Iâm a right bastard-â
âMhm.â
â-not that Iâm complaining. And then when we shared the bed, heh, she told me âgoodnight.â Can you believe that? Goodnight? Obviously, sheâs into me.â
âMhm.â Five-year-old Itadori Yuji looks up from where heâd been playing with blocks on the archery dojo, âUncle Kuna, can we go play hide-and-seek now?â
But the older man lets go the taut, tough string of his bow- hitting the bullseye of his target dead-on. âYouâre right! Sheâs totally into me- heh, ten points for Sukuna.â It was already nearing sundown, and heâd been cooped up in the Estateâs dojo for hours after the fiasco that was his wedding night a few days ago.Â
Nothing else had occurred between the two of you since. For which he was equally as grateful as he was disappointed - obviously you didnât want to spook him. And obviously he wanted you.
But it wasnât his fault heâd been trained in the arts of commandeering rather than communication.Â
Which is how he found himself with that lilâ nephew of his as a therapist, shooting away arrows with the specialized bow designed for Sukunaâs four beefy arms, and fourfold strength. As if that would help ease the tension.
The clan leader opens his mouth again and itâs enough to make Itadori throw himself back onto the polished wooden floor. Starting off- âAnd did I tell you that when she told me âgoodnightâ it was in a tone of like-â
âAhem.â
If there was anything that could make big, bad Sukuna quieten down, then it certainly wasnât his advisors, or his older brother, or anything else but you.Â
And all you had to do was clear your throat once to signal your intrusion, having wandered your way through the massively sprawling Estate. Youâd somehow led yourself straight to him.
You bow politely, âI hope Iâm not disrupting.â
âC-course not.â To your surprise, your husband speaks first. âWe were just-â
âTalking about you-â You giggle as Itadori instantly runs to cling onto your arms. Excitedly squealing at a mile a minute, âUncle Kuna says that- that he has a huuuuge crush on you and-â
âNo!â Sukuna interjects in panic- that traitor.Â
âAnd- and he liked the way you say âgoodnightâ and-âÂ
âItadori Yuji, I will pay you to stop talking.âÂ
Youâre watching the situation like a tennis match, and Yuji does stop - for about three seconds, that is. Until his voice drops into a conspiratorially low whisper, hands cupping his mouth- âDid you know he also called an exorcist-â
âWhat the f- I did not?â Husky bass damn near cracking, he rips the little boy away from you. âScram, gremlin.â
Pushing at his back to make the toddler waddle away and give the two of you some space, Sukuna hastens to straighten up and puff his chest out. Making sure that the loose fabrics of his training yukata would slip aside to flash you with a sliver of his toned pecs, glistened with a thin layer of sweat.Â
And when - only when - he catches your eyes dipping downwards, he clears his throatâsmooth, Ryomen Sukuna. Youâve made people disappear, you can do smooth- âH-hi.â
His vocals crack.
Nearly passing out from the shame - but you donât seem to mind. âHi to you, too. I see youâre working hard?â
âYeah- I mean no.â As you raise a brow, âWho needs ta work hard when youâre just good?â
âIs that so?â Itâs a blatant brag, but one that didnât go unsubstantiated. Your eyes drift to the side to where targets had been lined along the distant wall, each of them punctured right through the middle with a sharp arrow. âOh, thatâs impressive. I donât think I could ever-â
âWould ya like to try?â
Youâre nearly as shocked as Sukuna at the words that escape his mouth, before he can mull and chew over them first. But that swiftly melts into a look of eagerness once you nod- being handed his hefty bow.
âItâs heavier than normal.â Before you know it, heâs sidled up behind you. Leaned down so close that his warm breath blankets your neck- pointed chin hitting somewhere by your temple, tense core pushed up against you.Â
So close. Easily, two of Sukunaâs hands help you hold the weight of his massive bow, and another two fall down to your waist to guide you. âEasy there, mama.â
âTh-thank you-â Youâre find yourself stammering from the pure intimacy. And it was just so unfair how pliable he found you - heart racing, mind spinning at the thought - angling you bodily to face the targets. âSo I just pull and release, then?â
âMhm. You pull reeeal hard.â Deep, throaty. Youâre noticing just how warm his hands were when theyâre on yours, helping you pull, pull, pull back on the feathery edge. âBreathe in reeeeal slow.â You do, and you feel him match yours. âPosition it.â
His honed strength helps you find the target, and his hands- oh, but his hands were nearly making you lose sight of the bullseye. âAaand-â Two of his rough palms draaaagging down your sides for stability for him to tower over you, and then two more gently rubbing over your hands for reassurance as you- â-shoot.â
Schwingâ!
It lands dead-center in the bullseye.
He grins, âHell yeah.âÂ
âYes!â Youâre hissing, bow still in your arms as you leap into Sukunaâs. It was a brief embrace, just the quickest few seconds - but your husband nearly melts.
With your face tucked into the crook of his neck- his eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets, four massive palms hovering in the air like he didnât know what to do with himself. In a flash, youâre reaching âround your body to let him rest them on your back, and he gasps, âO-oh-â
âOh?â With a slight chuckle, you pull back, and he nearly whines in agony. But this was the Ryomen Sukuna, of course he can hold it backâŠto merely a slight grunt of pain. âThank you for teaching me.â
âThank you for being my wife-â
âPardon?â
âNevermind- I uh-â All four palms come up to cover his face in utter horror- it had been going so well if it wasnât for the clan leaderâs big mouth. Everyday was seemingly an unfortunate reminder that he was related to the blabbermouths that were Jin, Yuji, andâŠ
Speaking of, where was Yuji?
Little did he know that a certain pink-haired toddler was holding a certain group of elders hostage behind the screens that led to the dojoâs entrance. Their bodies, formerly leaned over the doorway to spy on the couple, were now crouched on the floor.Â
Disappointed- how could their revered clan leader not take the bait? Impotency strikes again.
But, right now, the masterminds were slightly more occupied with something else. Fingers to mouths, voices in whispers- begging the little boy standing in front of them to remain quiet.
But Yuji only smiles, standing proudly in front of them. He whispers, âDo you wanna play hide and seek?â
The council of the greatest minds in the household look at each other, âUhâŠno?â Unsure of what else to say to the boy.
Before their ears are pierced by the most noisy child-like shriek of Sukunaâs nameââUncle Kunaaaaaâitâs the exorcists!â
An arrow shoots their way. And by the way it strikes precisely into the wooden panels between the eldersâ heads, precisely where it didnât harm anything but their motivations, their egos, and perhaps slightly their heart conditions - theyâre guessing it was their loving clan leader that shot it.
.
.
.
Sukuna always did hate stuffy clan meetings.
The ones where documents were piled into columns taller than himself, council men and women spoke over each other to try and earn his attention, and he had to act for hours like he actually tolerated the guest invited that day. All in the name of ah- politics, or whatever.Â
And today was much the same - except for one shocking, sudden surprise. You.Â
You, seated directly opposite him on the large round table now that you were officially part of the clan. You, perfectly positioned for him to take in every pretty inch of you. You, who heâd give anything just to have beside him and chatting his ear off, or helping with his papers.
And, honestly, with a view like that he wouldnât even complain about being forced to discuss- what was it again-
âThe socioeconomic impacts of clan bonding activities and how they-â Choso - whoâd recently started attending for education on the clan - drones in such tired monotone, shrugging at their two-toned guest, Zenin Naoya, without looking up from where he was doodling on some contract. â-could really benefit from those.â
âTch- donât talk like I didnât know that, brat.â Sukuna narrows his eyes down at his eldest nephew.
Only to get a withering eyebrow raise in return, âWell, did you?â
âYesâŠâ No-
And almost as if he could read the pure lie on his uncleâs face, the middle-schooler has the audacity to put his pencil down and grin. More interested in the happenings of the meeting than he had been in four hours now. âOh really? Well then, dear uncle of mine, would you care to explain to your nephew who comes up with these bonding activities?â
âThe fuck do I look like? Stupid? ItâsâŠJin.â It was a guess, no one else would do something like that. He turns his face away from Choso and towards you. Politely laughing at something that the person next to you had said-
âAnd why is it important?â
He grumbles, this damn kid. Absent-mindedly- because oh, how was he expected to focus when your lips move to talk so prettily. As if in slow motion, like in those sappy movies Jin loved. âUh, socio-something or the other-â
âAnd what do we hope to get out of today?â
âErm-â Furrowing his brows, laser-focused on wracking his brain when- you turn his way. All you have to do is look at him for Sukuna to blurt- âSix kids, a summer house, and pets of her choice.âÂ
In stunned silence, Choso only gravely draws a tally count.Â
You: 3
Sukuna: -478
âOi- Iâm at least in the double digits-â
âI think you have bigger things to worry about.â He muters, jabbing a pencil in your direction. âYour wifeâs about to get stolen.â
And oh.
Ryomen Sukuna didnât take kindly to snapping his head over and recognizing that slight glint in Naoyaâs eyes; the way his mouth curled up meanly, body leaning just a tad closer to yours whenever you pulled back. Not kindly at all.Â
Worst of all, heâd just been hit with the realization that it was that rat bastard whoâd been making you laugh while heâd been stuck with duties.Â
Simply on opposite ends of the room, and yet, it feels like an eternity until the hulking clan leader rises from his seat. Feet pounding their way over to where you were, your eyes raise instantly-
âOh, there you are.â You start to smile - only for it to falter, coldly, at the shadowed expression on Sukunaâs face. He looked like heâd just seen a raging ghost, and his expression was downturned as such.Â
You couldnât pinpoint whether it had been the stress or the fact that the future heir to the Zenin clan couldnât take a hint. But youâre trying to soothe him, âYou looked quite busy-â
âI was, ah-â He was always weak to anything you said, â-bondingâŠactivitiesâŠsocioeconomics.â
Sarcastically, âHow riveting.â
âNo need to worry, I kept her company, though.â An annoying, grating voice bursts through your bubble. And before you can do anything to stop him, Naoya has his arm thrown âround the back of your seat. Around the room, one by one, the elders were starting to turn in their own chairs. Discussions dropping to whisper- âAnd my father always does commend my networking skills, clan leader Sukuna.â
And you think Sukuna might burst. You think he might just rip into him-
But, no. Instead, he breaks out into a smile, âAh, young master Zenin, huh? Didnât notice ya there.â A smile that was just slightly jarring, slightlyâŠdangerous. âI see you have met my wife. Quite charming, isnât she?â
âYes yes, quite beautiful.â Naoya waves off with a chuckle, elbowing the taller man where he could reach. Huffing, âThough, I must say, itâs quite smart to let the wife inside a clan meeting. Gives you something to look at, at least.â
You seethe, brows furrowing, âPardon-â But your husband already has a hand signalling you to seat yourself back down comfortably. A commotion was starting to stir by now, and if anyone was going to make a mess of clan politics and reap the consequences, it would be him.
He could and would take the fall for you.
âYoung master Naoya.â He declares in a booming voice, âThe Itadori clan has decided that we would so ah- love to indulge you in a practical example of our very own bonding activities.â
As you tilt your head in slight confusion - this certainly wasnât part of the meeting agenda, and the council seemed to notice it, too, Naoya hums. âOh?â
âRight now. Youâre welcome.â
âWhat? Now? But-âÂ
As the lanky man scrambles in his seat, Sukuna grasps the very back and topples Naoya right out of it. âNo no, let me.â And all it takes is one hand to lift their guest straight into midair and march him out of the room.Â
The door slams shut behind the duo.
And you didnât need to hear the yelps, or the punches, or the begs for mercy to know exactly what your husband had in mind as a âbonding activity.âÂ
It seemed the member of the Zenin clan would be leaving here bruised for his words, and it seemed that the elders were strangelyâŠexcited at the notion? Buzzing impatiently, tittering to each other.Â
It only increases twofold as Sukuna re-enters the meeting hall - knuckles suspiciously bruised, and notably without a pompous heir behind him - and you find yourself fighting back a smile. Muttering some half-hearted lecture about treating guests well, which he seems to lap every word of, you end it off by reaching upwards and kissing the side of Sukunaâs cheek.Â
Fleeting and innocent.
But the elders gasp-
âOh my god- oh my god, itâs happeningââ
âMy moneyâs on a girl child being the firstborn-â
â-maybe heâs only half-impotent-â
Keen eardrums catching the whispers and congratulations, you only have the time to catch the tips of his cheekbones smearing bright red - before the clan leader stumbles back out of the meeting room.
âOh, I think I jinxed it-â
Choso, meanwhile, crinkles his nose and reaches for his eraser and pencil once more.Â
Sukuna: -477
âGnarly.â
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âUncle Kunaâ-!â It was inevitable that every single person inside of Yujiâs cute lilâ kindergarten would end up knowing when his father wouldnât be able to pick him up, and his uncle would arrive instead.
For one, it was all he would talk about the day beforehand. And two, theyâd all hear his shrill squeal- except, most students and teachers used to this little ritual were probably shocked at the scream that followed after. âMamaâ!â
And you were just as caught off-guard.Â
Somewhere, in the distant bushes at the very end of the kindergarten playground, a few elders and Itadori Jin fistbump one another. All those lessons, not gone to waste!
âAh- Yuji?â Youâre fighting the way your voice wobbles in surprise, and it felt like a tiny cannonball had been shot at you with the way he runs straight to you. âWhat did you say, baby?â
Somewhat confused, two large eyes peak up at you. And his voice is tiny, âMama?â
Ruffling the curly pink locks of Yujiâs hair, you just-so-happen to glance at the boyâs uncle. Your husband. Who was currently steaming from his ears and flushed bright crimson, veins bulging at his forehead, mouth opening and closing stupidly. âI- you- who-â
He was speechless.
Barely even breathing- honestly, youâre hit with the slight urge to reach forwards and feel for Sukunaâs pulse before a calm voice breaks through. âAh! I see Yujiâs favorite uncle is here today.â A soft, bowl-cut man claps his hands as he walks up. Your eyes drop down to his nametag and read âHaibara.â âAnd you must be-â
âMy wife-â Sukuna spits out, before another word can leave Haibaraâs mouth. âMy wife, Jin could never pull anyone like-â
âExcuse my husband.â
âYes, maâam.â
With yourself properly introduced - this time with names - you find yourself laughing along to one of Haibaraâs anecdotes of Yuji, something to do with a dare and attempting to eat a terribly finger-shaped stick. He smiles breezily at you and hums, âHeâs a good kid, and seems to be very fond of you. You should come visit more often.â
âWell, I hope to.â Grinning right back, you squeeze Yujiâs squirming body as Sukuna takes off his tiny back-pack. And you canât help but think that it all felt soâŠdomestic.Â
Evidently, the cozy atmosphere had been obvious. Haibara ponders out loud, âForgive me for asking, but do the two of you plan on having children soon? You seem like youâd be wonderful parents.â
Oh, you look at Sukuna. And Sukuna doesnât meet your eyes, though, with his face turned straight ahead- what you could see was the way the tips of his ears were slowly starting to redden.
It seems like ages, it seems like he was waiting for your answer just as Haibara innocently was. And your mouth opens-
âMister Haibawa, Yujiâs uncle canât be a parent, heâs already an exorcist.â What the fâthe trio of adults snapped their heads down to see that a black-haired boy - another Zenin, confound it - had just tugged on his teacherâs sweater. Butting into the conversation- Sukuna thinks he could recall this boyâs name, something Gummy? Megumi?
âOh?â Then it wasnât an orange-haired girl on his other side, âMy mommy says heâs unemployed.â
âThat, too.â
Somewhere, in the distant bushes at the very end of the kindergarten playground, a few elders and Itadori Jin facepalm. All those lessons, gone to waste!
âWell I donât think he can be a parent because he looks stupid.â This time, one burly boy with a buzzcut enters the scene. And he was sparing no punches, both metaphorically and literally - he knocks out a good few backhands against Sukunaâs core.Â
âThat, too.â
âHe doesnât look stupid, Todo.â His nephew whines at him- thatâs his boy!Â
Sukuna could almost shed a tear, oh, how proud he was. So proud, in fact, that heâs hoisting the babbling boy over his shoulders without a second thought.Â
Maybe Jin hadnât completely failed as a father, after all. Maybe the boy wasnât a hopeless case and had actually come to appreciate the strong, kind parental figure that was his uncle- âHe just looks sorta stupid when he thinks heâll embarrass himself in front of his wife. Because he does that a lot. Thatâs all.â
âLike the time with the exorcist.â Megumi nods, sagely.
âLike the time with the exorcist.â Yuji agrees, smacking the top of Sukunaâs head.Â
âThere- there was no time with the exorcist.â The clan leader tries to clarify to an extremely confused Haibara.Â
And the girl - Nobara, according to the nametag on her glittery back-pack - points up at him, accusing. âI like his hair. He also canât be a parent because he wears wigs.â
Sukuna growls, âYouâre just jealous, bob-cut-â
You furrow your brows, âDo you wear wigs?â
âNo.â
Yuji giggles, âWill you wear wigs?â
âNo-â
âWhen will you wear wigs?âÂ
âNever!â Honestly, children these days. He damn near pounces on Haibara, whoâd asked that last question.
Megumi - honestly what was this kidâs problem - seems to pipe up for the sake of piping up, âAnd he steals candy from babies.â
âThat was one time-â
âHey hey-â Without warning, Todo was tugging on Sukunaâs trousers to gain his attention. Snickering as the older man looks down with the most weary face in existence, âYou wanna learn how to actually impress fine shyt?â
âWhat isâŠfine sh-â
âThatâs enough for today. I think.â Their teacher claps his hands, âAnd Todo Aoi what have I told you about using certain words? Donât think I wonât have a talk with your guardian again, young man.â Flustered, he throws an apologetic look your way before corralling his tiny students inside. âNow- inside!â
You can finally breathe a sigh of relief - finally, finally.Â
Though, you donât know what bewilders you more - the fact that they listen, or the fact that Todo was the only one that didnât. And it was all because of the fact that he had Ryomen Sukuna kneeled down to match his height, mouth snarling, but head nodding intently to whatever Todo was whispering in his ear. You look at Haibara, and he shrugs just as helplessly.
âUmmâŠmister Haibara?â Another one. The pink-haired manâs soul damn near leaves his body as another teeny, toddling monster starts pulling on the teacherâs sweater.Â
Likely expecting an encore of the chaos just prior, his smile stretches thin. âYes, Toge?â And you, too, start praying that it wasnât any more love advice, or choice words about Sukunaâs character.
Pale hair cut into severe bangs, the boy mumbles in a small voice, âThereâs some old men in the bushes.â
Ryomen Sukuna has never run up to a bush to kick it so fast.Â
And, later, with Jin left explaining to the teachers and the elders still walking off their bruises, he found himself walking down a softly sunlit road with you. Yuji now fast asleep on his shoulders, and you by his side.
It was a perfect day. Made only more perfect by the gentle tugging of your husbandâs fingers towards yours, in midair. In all his years, itâs perhaps the scariest thing heâs done. They hesitate, and then they reach - the slow curves of his digits gliding down your wrist, before interlocking with yours. Warm. Firm. And yet, softer than his palms have ever felt.Â
He thinks he catches you smiling, and Sukuna thinks Todoâs advice might not have been so bad after all.Â
And from a nearby bush, Itadori Jin pumps his fist in success. Impotency or not, not a complete waste, then.
.
.
.
One night a week later, the elders decide, push should come to shove.
Literally; cold towels were thrust into your hands before youâd been shoved through the damp wooden gates of the Itadori householdâs bathroom. It was the largest one, special in the way a large portion of the room was occupied by a steaming hot spring.
And from your position at the very edge of the humid chamber, you could see the toned shoulders of Ryomen Sukuna. Back turned to the door, just the upper half of his body was peaking out of the water. Glistened with dampness, deltoids flexed as he leans his elbows back against the floor.
Youâre semi-glancing behind you at the members of the council that had all but thrown you inside- something about âmarital bonding.â Which was really just a way for them to take care of their headâs little ahâŠrumored problem.Â
To them, it was perfect - your gorgeous wife comes up to you in a hot spring andâŠhelps. What more could he want? After all, thereâs nothing wrong with impotency - there was just something wrong with their clan leader.
Youâre game either way.
And you gently knock against the wall to denote your entrance, before walking up to where Sukuna was gawking from now. âWh-what are you doing here?â
âHelping.â You reply simply, wringing the towels before folding them over his heated forehead. âDo you wish for me to leave-â
âN-no!â
It comes out faster than heâd have liked, more hitched than he would have liked. Honestly, the sentence barely even leaves your lips before Sukuna sits up straighter. Letting sploshes of scalding water drip down his abs, he leans further back against your touch. âI mean- stay.â
âMhm, I heard you had a long day.â
âThe worst, mama.â And part of his response is half-grunted with the way youâve now situated yourself properly behind him. With your lap now a bed for his damp head, fingers weaving through those coral pink locks. âHad to refurbish the dojo, then take care of the problem with that damn Zenin bratâŠthen donate to YujiâsâŠkindergarten, thenâŠpromote a few elders⊠and one I had toâŠâ Heavier and heavier, he was sinking into you with each nimble movement of your fingertips. â-fuck.â
âYou fucked an elder before you fucked me?â You raise a brow in humor.
âHuh- no!â Heâs growling, steam curling from the water. And as youâd briefly halted your ministrations to tease him, he guides your hands back to move. âI would neverâŠeugh. Shit, canât even imagine doing somethinâ like that with anyone but you.â
Suddenly, itâs silent. Except for the slow curdle of the water, and the soft grunts that Sukuna was oh-so-desperately trying to bite back.Â
Fuck, he was so handsome.
Such naturally chiselled muscles, and dark circular tattoos on just about every joint he had.Â
You massage his burning temples, slipping down into the longish length of his hair. âOh, is that so? And do you imagine it often with me, clan leader Sukuna?â
âStop being such a fuckinâ tease.â Hissing, Sukunaâs prominent Adamâs apple bobs as he practically begs. And he looked so pretty when he was begging; brows upturned, mouth unintentionally pouty. âHow can I help myself?â
âAnd am I doing anything to stop that?â
âYes-â Forgoing the massage, Sukuna now stops your right hand. Holding it tightly as he turns his head and presses a kiss to the tender inside of your wrist, hot with water and his blush. âJust existing is enough.â
âSukunaâŠâ
Your mouth parts, and itâs like a string being drawn- your lips are on his. Itâs messy, with the way heâd angled himself from upside down, tilted up just to sliiide the plushness of his mouth across yours. Itâs light, like he was holding himself back.
And you knew what he was capable of.
Which was likely what made you reach for the back of his head, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. Gasping, your mouth just barely parts for his hungry maw to clasp âround your sugary tongue. Suckingâbefore-
Before a button clicks, and suddenly the bathroom walls are trembling with lyrics singing âI just had sexââ
You couldâve caught whiplash with how fast youâre both staring at the entrance: meeting with the sight of the several elders, Wasuke, and a ridiculously large boombox. Piled onto an embarrassing heap on the floor, theyâd seemingly fallen over- likely from their spying over one corner of the door.Â
âAnd it felt so goodââ
âWrong one dammit- this is what Wasuke was on music.â Youâre catching one of them murmur. Just about the only thing they have time for before scurrying away - leaving the boombox very, very behind. And you donât have to look behind you to know that Ryomen Sukuna was likely seething enough to make the spring water itself bubble.Â
Sukuna growls, âFucking George Michael.â
âActually I think thatâs Akon.â
Sukuna slams his open palm against the edge of the pool, and you have to open up your palms to stop yourself from being splashed. He murmurs, more to himself, âAll because I didnât wanna fuckinâ scare you- not that theyâd-â
âWait, whyâd you think youâd scare me?â You ask in confusion.
To which he looks at you in genuine bewilderment, as if that wasnât even worthy to be a question. âYouâre beautiful.â He states, like there were no truer words.Â
Before gesturing at himself- those naturally rosy locks, the four arms, the faint slash across his abs where they said his second mouth was to be. Cursed with strength, cursed with power, cursed with looks that defined him as something more than human. âLook at me- just fuckinâ look at me. And thatâs not all- how shall I be expected to live a normal marriage when Iâve been cursed from birth? I only ask for forgiveness that Iâd been selfish with my choice of you, my wife-â
âWell, I donât forgive you.âÂ
Itâs silence, and he looks torn between hanging his head in understanding, and taking your words head on.
âBecause I think youâre beautiful, too.â You say it honestly. âMy beautiful husband.â
And, for not the last time that night, the big, bad cursed Sukuna blushes.
âFelt so good~â
.
.
.
âSh-shitââ Your back arches lewdly, allll the way back until your naked, puffy core could reach as much of Sukunaâs mouth as possible. âThink I like it better when youâre like- ngh, this.â
Just a few minutes and one rapid trip to your bedroom later found you with your previous clothes in a heap across Sukunaâs bedroom floor. Your thighs shakinâ, hips bucking wildly as you straddled his mouthâno, not his first.Â
You were riding his second mouth.
The wildly monstrous one slashed across the middle of his stomach, large and hungry. Heâd gaped it open immediately once youâd clamored up his washboard abs, letting the curled tip of his second tongue slide deftly between your inner thighs.
Playfully flickering in patterns straight up to the target of your cunt-
âHaaah, so youâve decided you like- mmm, this mouth more than me?â One of his four hands teasingly dips downwards to grace your pussy with a solid spank.Â
So loud, so wet that it makes his cursed mouth lick its lips in greed. âReally not gonna talk tâme now then? Not even through these lips?â Another one. And itâs letting off the rawest slurp that muffles your own squeal- âThough, I think she disagrees, huh, baby?â
Through gritted teeth, you somehow manage to force out, âShut up-â
âAlright alriiiight.â Sukuna trails off, seemingly back to focusing on the ministrations of his tongue.Â
Your eyes are dangerously on the verge of criss-crossing as he glissades it up every bead of slick escaping you. Laid flat nâ draaaaagging across every inch of skin he could reach, the flexible tip of his tastebuds were just barely touching your treacly folds when-
Spank!
Even harder this time. And your mind whirls stupidly at the stinging sensation that just felt so good- âN-ngh, fuckââ
You were bending so cutely on top of him, and Sukuna canât help but lean his hulking figure further down the king-sized mattress. âAtta girl.â Bucking up so that youâre fully seated on top of his second mouth now, slick dribbling all down his obliques, his cursed tongue glued to your clit.Â
Sticking between your folds, his pinkish tastebuds rover âround and âround that fat nub where you were most sensitive. Just barely gurgling out, âAnd here I th-thought you were shy-âÂ
âAnd here I thought you were dumbified, hmpf.â With a roll of his eyes, your husband chuckles. âGuess not yet.â
It was as much a warning as he would give you - and it wasnât a warning at all.
Before the fat girth of his finger is rudely pryinâ apart your pussylips and shoving the first few inches inside. Until youâre being spearheaded by him, heâs trying to scope every inch of you. Heâs trying to snake his muscle in until heâs probed into every nook nâ cranny.
âF-fuuuuuckââ Sukuna groans out, watching through half-lidded peripherals at the way your tight hole was trying to suck him up. So thick, he can count every throb of your walls around him, one-two-three-four- âAre we sure yer not dumbified- hah, already? Look how fucking wet ya are, mama.â
âN-ngh, Kunaââ
Your whines are botched with pants, after each time his finger is swabbing its way inside. Fitting in two- moving in the slightest half-ruts just to fit inside- again. And again and again.
Each passing second had him probinâ into a new corner of your pussy - and yet, it still wasnât enough for the clan leader. Which is why Sukuna finds his tongue slithering back and forth your folds, pushing them apart until he was given a front row seat to your depravity. âSee? A damn- fuck- waterpark. Are ya always like this or mâI just special, huh?â
âYouâre not gonna be special if you- mmpf, talk so- ngh, much-â The stretch is so incredible that youâre forced to bite down on the gummy insides of your cheek. A necessity if you didnât want to wake the entire house up tonight.
But Sukuna had other plans.
Rose brows raising in slight surprise, âOhhhh? That good, huh?â The edges of his sleazy grin twitch once heâs tugginâ on your dripping wet entrance even further, pumping in the expanse of a third lengthy finger. âMâjust gonna take that as a sign mâspecial~â
âKuna-â
Oh, you were just so pretty huffinâ and puffinâ atop him like this. Itâs enough to make his second mouth slobber with greed, edging dangerously towards the circle of your stuffed hole. âAlright alriiight. Brace yourself, baby.â
âBrace m- wha- oh.â
Before you know it, his fat fingerpads are pushed oh-so-deeply inside. So deep that you think heâs filling out every drivelling orifice, pumping furiously.Â
Sukuna fucks you with his fingers like heâs trying to make you remember. Like heâs trying to hook into all of your sweetest spots, the ridges of his joints brush up slightly against your g-spot. You mewl, âItâs so- oh, Iâve never felt so full-â
âYeahhhh- those fingers of yours canât do this, huh? Poor thing.â Fauxly cooing, heâs rovering you so open. Your husbandâs fingers were so big that he didnât even have to try to leave you trembling- to leave you whimpering as he pulls out in a quick split-second.
Wordlessly despite your disappointed cries, you crack your teary eyelids open to find that Sukuna was slipping off the silver metal wedding ring off of one of his left hands. And pushing it down onto his slick-glazed right hand- before thoroughly thrusting. âSâgonna be a stretch- gonna be a biiig stretch. You can take it, mama.â
âC-can I?â Your thighs twitch stupidly at the frigid feeling of his ring scraping your soft insides.Â
This way, you could pinpoint the exact way he was moving inside of you: in and out in and out, curling to hit your g-spot.Â
And Sukuna can tell the exact moment his stirrinâ fingers target your most sensitive spot- because youâre panting, youâre bucking. Youâre throwing your head back once he plunges his slick-glazed fingers out to do it all over again and again, until his knuckles hit your pussylips raw. âHell yeah, ya can. Howâre you gonna, mmm, take all of me if you canât even- oh, take these, hm?â
Youâre pouting, âI-I canâŠâ
âWhatâs that?â
In an effort to prove it to him, you bounce your hips right back into his sloppy cadence. âI can-â And it only makes your cunt squelch even louder the closer you are to his slippery tongue.Â
âYou can?â
âY-â
His hips jerk upwards roughly, grazing that ridged texture of his tastebuds from the very bottom of your pussy, up, up, up to the tip of your slope. And itâs loud. âYou can?â Your heart races, itâs only then that you realize he wasnât talking to you - he was talking to your other pair of lips. âThen take it- take- ngh.â
Harder and harder. His probinâ mess was reaching a fever point and youâre rubbing yourself pathetically on the prolonged muscle of his tongue.Â
And the more ravenous his cursed mouth became - edging his globular tip nearer nâ nearer to your stretched-out hole - the more ruined he was becoming. Bucking himself up animalistically, two hands of his control the grindinâ of your hips- manhandling you down just enough so that the wetness of your cunt just barely touches his rock-hard cocks.Â
âF-fuck!â Youâre whining at the feeling of two thick mushroomy tips touching your skin.Â
And Sukuna doesnât touch himself- no matter how many hands he has. Having you on top of him like this would be a sure-fire way to cream himself in his pants before he even started. His pretty lips wobbling, eyes scrunching closer the harder his aching erections throbbed.Â
He was so sexy. And you canât stop yourself from staring- something he notices even when heâs in this state. âWh-what?â Flinching at the sheer intensity, âThe fuck are ya looking at, huh?â
âIâm just th-thinkingâŠâ And you have to stop yourself from moaning as he pulls out his plump fingers in punishment. They were glistening, dripping with so much of your juicy sap that Sukuna sucks clean in front of you.Â
Before slipping back inââThat Iâd- oh- love to make you, mmm, shut up.â
Rolling his crimson eyes, âOh, youâd love to make me shut up, huh?â And he was so smug. So sure of himselfâŠuntil the leader catches onto the way youâd been rutting against his second mouth. Riding. And, slowly, those hazy peripherals of his widen- âFuckâŠdonât tell me-â
You only nod.
â-you seriously wanna be fucked by my cursed mouth?â
Nodding drunkenly again-
âO-oh.â His head falls back into the satin pillows as youâre slipping it in, the slimy tendril of his tongue finally scouring into where heâd wanted to for so long now.Â
It feels incredible.Â
Finally hooking âround your tight entrance to push in, in, inâheâs just so big that once Sukunaâs unfurling his greedy tongue, it feels damn near never-ending. And you felt so tight pulsing around him, squeezing him inside once, twice, thrice. âYa- ya really are gonna be the death of me- fuck!â
You start to ride him and it makes the big, bad Ryomen Sukuna mooooan, twitching his way inside of you. Since you were already softened up by his fingers, it was easy work for him to pull out and immediately replace himself with those rude tastebuds of his.Â
Straightened out so he can probe around your walls, the length of his cursed tongue was pumping nâ pumping.
Youâd never felt anything like this before. And you swear you see the mouth on his belly chuckle darkly as he fucks you like he would with his cocks. Salivating. Sploshing your poor insides until you have him memorized.Â
Sukunaâs tongue swerves along your walls until he brushes the very back of your cervix, softly mushing it in. Again. And again. And againââFuh-fuuuuckââ Youâre gurgling out, wet wads of saliva dribbling down each side of your lips. âWhoâs the one dumbified now?â
âWh-what- ngh-â His eardrums were popped from the pure pressure, barely able to make out your words.
And through the constant rams of his tongue, you manage to string together- âI-I said, whoâs the- oh, dumbified one n- oh!â
âYou.â In that very moment, he has his bumpy tastebuds glued to your g-spot, his hips arching right off the tense bedsprings, core tensed. Sukuna slashes his cursed mouth into your favorite area and grooooans, âStill you.â
He squeezes your perked clit with the tips of his rude fingers, still with the ring on one of them. And the backs of your eyes explode with white-hot pleasure at the dual pleasure - his tongue fucking you ferally, his digits teasing your clit. âYes it is- hngh, because itâs gonna make meâŠâ
Cum.
You were so close, you could feel it in each swab of his tongue. Gaped open even wider for the most maximum movements, each thrash is angled just right against your g-spot.
Just right to stretch out your glistening walls until theyâre taking the shape of him. And he hums, âYeahhhhhâ all over.â Your clingy slick is drenching his abs by now, like a waterfall that heâs scooping up with a fourth hand.Â
One on your clit, two on your hips to move you pliably up nâ down his length, and his final one getting absolutely soaked. Sukuna brings them up to his primary mouth to suck off the layers of candied slick, smearing it all over his lips like some delicacy. âYeah, allll over now, mama. Make a hah- mess of me.â
Your jaw unfastens as you watch him clean himself off, every single drop. âOh myâŠhngh.â
âWhat? Mmm, jealous?â Ruder, harder. It was just so sloppy how his mouth rovered all over your cunt, slippinâ and slidinâ back and forth at a constant pace. âMaybe if you were, hah, patient, you couldâve gotten that.â
âAs if Iâd want thatâŠâ Youâre huffing, stubborn.
âMy wife, youâre just- about- to cum- on me.â The space between each word is slashed with a push of his rovering fat tip, and a thorough squeeze on your clit.
To which youâre shooting back- âAnd you were about to cum- ngh, untouched.â
And you think heâll tease you back. You think heâll bully you until youâre driven mad - but Ryomen Sukuna was moaning in agreement.
Speeding up the pace of his velvety tongue, heâs slithering it with a deep bash against your g-spot. Grunting, âCan you blame me?â Harder. Something at the back of his throat cracks. He begs, âSuch a pretty, oh, fuckinâ wife like you and- and Iâm expected to stay calm?â
Hiccuping, âI- I donât- Kuna, Iâm not gonna last-â
Faster. âMâexpected not to get pussydrunk? Expected to not fucking- lose it. F-fuck-â Sloppier.Â
And you donât get to hear what the tail end of his sentence might have been. Because with a few more vulgar strokes, youâre breaking apartâcumming.Â
Lids cracking with tears, lips wobbling out whines.
His name, over and over again. Your cute noises are so loud that he has half the mind to wonder whether those damn elders will hear, âCumâing-â You announce, belatedly. Body shaking with each peak of your high, âFeels so- so good, oh.â
âDoes it, now?â He babbles away, drunk on your honeyed pussy. The sheer primal clench of your walls almost made it hard for him to fuck you through your wave of bliss. âGood- good, atta girl, cream all down my t-tongue now.â
The curvaceous tip of his tongue was constantly pricking your g-spot, and it only drags out your orgasm even further. Until you were nothing but a sobbing mess, âAm- oh, I am.â
âMhmmmâ go ahead.â Your thighs twitch, head dropping backwards as the last few dredges of your high are pounded away. âGo ahead- take it. Take it all out on me.â With a few twinges of electricity that zap down your spine, you can finally manage to crack open your eyes.Â
But you notice that just as youâve reached your high, Sukuna did, too.Â
Or, at least, he was trying oh-so-desperately not to.
As your pace lazes, his two hands on your waist glide down to his plump, aching erections. Both sets of thumbs rover on top of his leaking orifices, squeezing just so he wonât leak out in cum. Stopping himself from cumming untouched.Â
And that makes you huff, âKunaâŠâ Your newfound nickname for him makes him flush, and you instantly swat away his hands. âWant it now.â
âCheh-â Those hazy, blood-red eyes of his narrow, and somewhere in the distance, you can hear the tight snap of his underwear being pulled. âWhat a spoiled lilâ wifeâŠâ
But that wouldnât stop him from indulging you, of course.
Sukuna breathes in heavy puffs, and you barely even have the time to catch yours before heâs immediately clawing onto the right side of your ass cheek with one hand.
Usinâ that sinful leverage to manhandle you straight down onto one of his plush tips, the thick circumference of his shaft throbs against your hole and you moan. Head snapping down- âFuck.â
Oh, fuck.
He was soâŠbig.
And that was being humble- youâd come to learn that not only was Sukuna gifted with extra height and limbs, he was gifted with extra size too.Â
Two fat, veiny lengths laid between two meaty thighs, they were colored the prettiest tan flush on their tips. Dribbling down heaps of precum that puddled between the two of you. By now, the curly pink hairs at the bottom of his bases were already drenched, and his ballsack was so tight with need.Â
 Sukuna was so hard that every throb was visible. So big that it made your thighs squeeze together.
Mentally, youâre calculating just how it might be possible for him to fit inside you. Before his rough tone cuts off your thoughts, âAh ah- we can count together, mama. Say it wâme now-âÂ
âWha- one!â Almost laughable, heâs then bullying in just the thickened front of one cock. They were stacked vertically, and as you get pierced by the lower one, his upper one was rubbinâ primally on your front.Â
Sukunaâs mean fingers draw an invisible line from up your treacly slit, measuring. âMmm- sâmore like two inches.â
âTwo-â You blabber, âThen how much more-â
âGuess weâll just have to find out, heh~â
And he meant it.
Before long, Sukuna was fucking up into you furiously. Ferally. Thrust after half-thrusts just to fit his incredible size inside, âThaâs about fourâŠmmm, more three.â Heâs drunk on your pussy, counting away how many solid, sopping inches managed to be squeezed in each time. In a split-second, your poor pussyâs being spanked. âYou too, baby.â
âItâs just so- nghââ Your head throws back for the nth time tonight, singing in synchronization with the creaks of the bed.Â
Itâs like he was jackhammerinâ you, mazing your slick-filled insides with the globe of his cockhead. Sukuna was so long that it was easy to massage your every sweet spot- again and again. âWhaaaat? Canât take it? Fuck, weeâre only about-â On your tummy, he measures out how far heâd slid inside by now. âS-six inches, still. About halfway?â
Your eyes bulgeâhalfway?
Itâs a shock so large that the rest of your body loosens up, weakened. Just perfect for him to grab onto your hips, your thighs, one hand on your neck to jostle your cute body up nâ down his cock.
âSâit too much for my, mmm, good wife?â Mercilessly, heâs spitting between your ajar mouth. âTook my tongue but you canât even take one of my cocks- aw, câmon now, mama.â
âI-I-â
âI-I-I- whaaaat?â Octaves higher. Your husband leans in until his heated breath burns the shell of your ear, whispering, âGonna hafta speak up, yâknow? Unless ya want me to- fuck- it out- of you-â
And you always did surprise him. Because where the head of the Itadori clan expected to be met with a few sobs, a few pleas, youâre only straddling his toned hips tighter.Â
Swervinâ your hips down in a dizzying figure-eight to help him stuff your cunt full of him. And even though it still wasnât enough to bottom out completely, you look up at him through teary lashes. âI want both, Kuna.â
Sukunaâs pink lashes flutter, his breath catches. âWh-what?â And he stutters. Oh, youâd made him stutter - just as nervous and awestruck as he was on your wedding night.
âBoth.â You can only repeat the word.
Because at that very secondâ before your response has even graced his very ears, heâs rutting up into you like an animal. Like a dog in heat, Sukunaâs crushing your front to his abs and his cocks to your cunt.
Pap!
âFuckâŠâ He hisses at the sting of flesh slamming on flesh, âEleven. What was that?â
And youâre being dumbified by the sheer stretch, not only had he started kissinâ your puckered pussylips with his second cock - he was starting to press inside. No hesitation, no waiting around for you to get used to the stretch. Sukuna was hungry.Â
You somehow choke through wads of your own spit, âMore- both- oh fuck!â
âWhat? S-say it again-â Heâs like a broken record at this point, and so were his plunging cocks. Deeper nâ deeper. Your drivelling entrance was now stretched out so widely over the circumferences of his bases, sobbing just as much as you were.Â
âBo-â
âTwelve- again.â
It was a damn wonder that he could still spit out coherent words. Stammering. Heaving.
The hand of Sukunaâs thatâd been caressing your front was now slithering down to cup both his shafts. Guiding them upwards to press inââGonna have ya take it a-all until here-â You snap your head down to see what he was talking about - only to catch a lilâ youâd missed in your observations of his size before.Â
Those two ring tattoos at the base ends of his cocks.
The sight itself is so lecherous that it has you moaning- âOh, yes- both.â
âYeah? So sit pretty and take it, baby.â They were glistening with your sultry sap, nearly kissing your folds by now. âAllll the way until mâtattoos- got it, girl? Alllll the way untilâŠâ Stupidly, youâre nodding. And he can only breathe through clenched teeth, âFuh-fuck! Thirteen.â
Thirteen.
Thirteen entire inches - each.
Youâd finally reached the tattoos. And they were stuffed pretty nâ puffily inside you. Throb-throb-throbbing away against your every tiny orifice, Sukuna didnât even have to try to mold your gooey cunt to him.Â
As you open your mouth to demand him to move, he plunges in two of his thick fingers. Messily dragging himself towards the back of your throat, âTch- such a dangerous fuckinâ mouth. Mâgonna hafta fuck that outta ya.â
Youâre whimpering, your jaw dangling agape perfectly for him to spit inside. And then his second mouthâtargetting your pussy with a thick glue of spittle.
At least he was nice enough to give you an actual semi-warning this time.
Because before long, two hands are clawing at your sides. Pinning you down so that his two shafts can prick your cervix neatly, bottomed out and yet still trying to go deeper.
When he finds that futile, Sukuna bodily bounces you up nâ down his upright erections. âOh my god- o-oh my god.â One of his angular shafts was bashing in your sponged cervix, and the other was just below nâ cutely rubbing on your g-spot. âFuck it just feels so- good!â
âAaaaatta girl, enjoy it.â With a hand on your throat, he bends you back into an arch.Â
The pressure is almost too much - so much. You find your body naturally torn between running away and yearning for more, more, more. Though, luckily, the clan leaderâs there to help you make that decision. âNuh uh, no runninâ, baby. Put your back into it- taaaake it, you see how much she likes it?â
âCan- can hear-â
âMhmââ
And truly, your overfilling pussy was so loud. Every splatter of precum inside you made the most primal squelches- and the volume?Â
The sheer sploshes of his gooey translucent sap was enough to bloat your pussy. But now with two plump, vein-covered cocks of his probinâ your innards, he was fucking a tummy bulge into you. You gasp at the feeling, âI d-didnât even know that was- hck! possible-â
âHeh, course it isâAnd yâknow how to make that cute lilâ tummy bulge of yours even bigger?â Sukuna beckons you closer, like heâs about to tell you a secret.
Even though, really, heâs manhandling you like a ragdoll. Reeling you in until his scorched hot lips were grazing your own, murmuring. âI justâŠhaftaâŠfuck a baby into you, my wife.â
Almost on cue - like a little preparation - both of his strawberry-red divots stream out a few beads of precum. Splattered against your walls, they drip nâ cream down the sides of your pussy and make you see stars. âI would like that- oh, I would- I would like that.â
âMmmâ and what about you?â
Evidently, your needy cuntâs in agreement, too. Because the wettest noises suddenly let off from between your legs- and only later do you realize that it wasnât just because of how damp your pussy was. No, it was because of his second mouth.
Tonguing down the shimmery sheen of slick upon each of your thighs, he licks up every drop of juice you were leaking. Flicking the curly end of his tongue at your clit-
âAh ah- focus on me.â Sukuna snaps you out of your high with a light spank on your slope, and a literal click of his fingers.Â
âB-but how can I when it feels so gooodââ
âSo goooood, huh?â He drags it out purposefully, pressing his thumping veins against the roof of your channel.Â
Sukuna knew the effect he had on you. He knew how to target your favorite spot in strikes so precise that it left your toes curling, vision flashing with white. âTell me-â Right now, he had one hand smearing apart your folds to better let his tongue slip between them. Another two hands clung onto your waist to help you move, and the fourth and final was grabbing your face. Pushing your cheeks together pathetically, âCanât focus? Awww, my poor wife. Are that- oh, useless at focusing on anything that isnât my two c-cocks right now?â
âN-ngh, Kunaââ Cute. How cute. Your dilated pupils were swirlinâ in circles inside the whites of your eyes, comically pounded stupid after each stroke upon stroke.
âSâthat the case, huh? Is that why my mouthy girl is so- oh, fuck- quiet now?â Heâs almost snickering- itâs so ruthless.Â
Heavy hips pressuring up into you. He was pounding you in rough thrusts, all the way from the mazing curve of his cockheads to those tickling tufts of pink at his very bottom. And Sukuna has the audacity to spitââFuck, mama. Do you even know your name right now?â
Your brain was too hazy, merely sparking with twitches of pleasure. Youâre left blubbering nonsensically for a few seconds, until his tongue slaps your buttony clit. Startling you into answering, âI-IâŠâ
âHeh, do you even know mine?â
âK-Kunaââ You might not remember your own name by now, but screaming Sukunaâs over nâ over had permanently branded his into your mind.Â
And so you look up at your husbandâs handsome, leering features for any recognition. Only to find him tutting, âNow now, how disa- oh, disappointing. I thought youâd most importantly know who I am, at least.â
âThenâŠclan leader?â
âNuh uh.â
Pouting, âB-but â
âB-b-b-but-â Heâs mocking, buttery tongue now rubbinâ your nub raw. You felt overstimulated enough to press your chin between his puffy pecs, like cushions. Sheening out drool all over his skin- âSay my title before you cum, baby.â You listen with bated breath, âMâyour husband. And mâalways gonna be your husband.â
âM-my husband?â Your mouth drops - and youâre unsure whether itâs because of his words, or the sudden increase of his tempo. Hot and hard.
His twin, rock-hard crowns plummet all the way until you swear you can feel him poke your lungs. Throbbing at a thunderous staccato, he breathesââGonna be your husband that fucks you like th-thiiiisââ Punctuated by a few sloppy drags of his vein-decorated lengths, âGonna be your husband that eats you out like mâstarved.â A few hearts that heâs drawinâ on your clit with his extra prolonged tongue.
âFuck- fuck Iâm gonnaââ
As your sobs break off, his roughened hand dips from your throat to the slick nâ precum dripping down your thighs. And you faintly notice the way heâs using the moisture to write out his own nameâ
Ryomen Sukuna.Â
Signed off with a little heart on your skin, âAnd mâgonna be your husband thatâŠâ And a second heart right above where your womb was, where he was jackhammering into your womb like no other. Flooding it with copious knots of cum like he was practising for something else soon.Â
Sukuna leans down sweetly so that his lips trace your earlobe, whispering. â-breeds this pretty pussy alllll full.â Tapping the front of your pussy, like he was just imagining it.
And that does it for you. That does it.
Before long your head falls into the crook of his neck with a dull thud, so utterly dumbified on your sudden orgasm that you can only blabber. âKuna- Kunaâ!âÂ
Your thighs were shaking, cunt fluttering with each spasm of pleasure.
And if Sukuna was going to fuck you through your high, he was going to fuck you through your high. Every probe of his rovering cocks increased your bliss tenfold, exact hits to your g-spot.Â
Sobbing, âPlease-â You can only hold onto his flexed, tattooed deltoids for dear life. Clawing down his skin due to the constant stimulation, you bow your spine backwards and meet his ferocious thrusts. Riding out the euphoria- spark after spark that made your toes curl.
Grunting, he just felt so used right now. And he loved it. âYes yes yes- let this entire house know. Let that whole council ngh- hear how good of a husband I am to you.â
It lasts until youâre gurgling on your own whines, zaps of electricity still shooting from your cunt. âLet them-â And Sukuna dares to smush your tear-wettened cheeks together to coo, âFuck, whatâs thatâ? Whatâs that pretty mouth hafta- hngh, say tâme?â
And you somehow manage out, âI-inside.â A shaky hand of yours snakes down to part your pussylips wider, helping his roverinâ tongue. âMy husbandâŠâ
Ryomen Sukunaâs eyes widen, his kiss-bitten lips part.
You could almost hear the deep, trembling gasp that heâs inhaling. Letting out only five wordsââI l-love you, my wife.â
You arenât granted the time to formulate a response- before his thick, battered cockheads start spilling out. Flooding your cunt in mere seconds, youâre just dripping down your thighs in thick clumps of his seed.
And his cursed mouth is more than happy to indulge in all the miry ribbons of sap, lickinâ all upwards until a thin, ivory gloss coats its lips. Sukuna looks down and groans, âOh fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-â
His flush was scorching, face scrunched in pleasure. Youâre purring, âYouâre so pretty, babyââ
âAh, mâso glad I married ya.â He canât stop the lilâ confession that leaves his mouth. Heart too full- your cunt too full. And if you saw one of the strongest, most vicious clan leaders in existence smile through a fiery blush nâ his pussydrunk tears, then you mercifully donât comment.
âMâglad I married you too, KunaââÂ
And youâd felt nothing like this before. Having his gluey cum splosh around inside of you, both of his lengths were shoved in so deeply that they were constantly coating your cervix in white. Your womb.
Your deepest orifices that leak out as Sukuna plants a hand on your tummy and presses, watching with bated breath as his seed gushes out of you like a waterfall. âFuck- didnât think it would be like th-this, ngh.â He was hypnotized, making an even bigger mess of you. âDidnât think that it would be s-soâŠâ Addictive.
He doesnât finish his sentence. For now.
Red eyes teary, Adamâs apple gulping. Youâd completely sucked him dry by the time that Sukuna was pulling out of you. The matching mushroom tips of his shafts twitching, reddened and sensitive.Â
He hisses as they bob in the air for a few seconds, before-
âKuna- oh, fuck.â
Before you were flipped over and pressed deep into the mattress. Your legs on his shoulders, your knees near your titsâand his mouth over your overstimulated cunt.Â
Letting you cream all down his chin, Sukuna has to swat away his cursed mouth just to get a taste of you himself. And the moment his plush lips touch your glazed folds- youâre trying to run away. Failing.Â
âNow now, my wife.â Being draaaaagged back down by all four of his big, beefy arms. Sukuna pecks exactly six open-mouthed kisses on your sloppy hole, his lengthy pinkish tongue coming out to sluuurpââI remember something aboutâŠsix heirs?â
Oh.Â
.
.
.
âYâknow, thereâs really nothing wrong with impotency.â
Wasuke grunts, a few elders nod. âAgreed.â
âBut maybe heâs taken a vow of celibacy-â
âMaybe his dicks fell off.â
âChoso Kamo!â It was never too early in the morning for Itadori Jin to squawk at his sons, especially when they were in the middle of what was undoubtedly an exceptionally important subject of conversation - the two of you.Â
He wags his butter knife like a weapon, âWe do not say those words in front of Yuji, and especially not in front of our toast.â Before reality sets in and he drags a hand down his face, âBut yesâŠthat is possibleâŠâ
Wasuke deems it to be the perfect time to chime in, âBah! I donât care if they fell off or if they multiplied- I just want grandkids.â
âFather, might I remind you that it was you who decided to interrupt their little moment last night?â A vein pops out beside Jinâs temple, and in his periphery can see the other guilty elders shift in their seats.Â
The old man does, too, but still in denial. âSlander! That is propaganda that I will not be falling for-â
âFather, we have multiple eye witnesses. I am an eye witness.â
âAnd what were you doing spying with us?â
ââŠâ
As Itadori Wasuke rests his case, the winding table falls into perhaps the first quiet of the morning. Somewhat tense. Somewhat anticipating. That is, until an oblivious Yuji nearly upturns his bowl of cereal to chime inââExorcist-â
âWhat? Choso, did you let him watch your-â Jin starts- and then stops. Because then heâs seeing exactly what his youngest son was looking at - you and Sukuna.
Well, more like you in Sukunaâs arms. It seemed that you were having some trouble waddling down the Estateâs multiple flights of stairs, painstakingly taking it one at a time to enter the dining room. And he has half the mind to nearly ask whatâs wrong, perhaps even get up and help you himself- until he sees it.
Oh, it was hard to miss.
He sees it, and so does everyone else within a five mile radius: the bite marks, the bruises, the slight weariness in both your eyes from lack of sleep. It almost looked as if you two had been thrown to the wolves.
And his younger brother often did forgo a shirt for breakfast, but now heâd haphazardly thrown on a yukata. One that showed off such feral scratches disappearing down his back, his neck, fuck- maybe even his thighs?
Jin drops his butter knife, Choso exits the table, and WasukeâŠwas he even breathing? Hell, Jin was sure that a few of the surrounding elders had honest-to-heavens fainted right then and there.
Nearly everyone knew what happened.
Except for a beaming Itadori who was the first to gain your dual attentions, squealing out a âGâmorningâ!â that you both reciprocate in hushed, hoarse voices. Fuck, he even swears he heard Sukunaâs gruff baritone crack.
No one comments, of course, for the dark glint in their clan leaderâs eyes promised sure death if they did. Though, Jin does roll his eyes at a few of the whispering council membersâ
âWhat a glorious, wonderful day it is. I truly do believe in miracles-â
âMy bets are on a girl- but a boy would also be-â
âAkon worked?â
He doesnât think he can judge, though. Not when heâs immediately pulling out his phone to text Yujiâs teacher, Haibara, about the salacious new updates. Ah, can you blame him? You two would make the prettiest lilâ babies.Â
Finally, you and Sukuna finally take your seats at the clan table. Grinning. And by the looks on your faces, Ryomen Sukuna wasnât impotent. Not at all.Â
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Synopsis. Tall, gloomy, and really good with the g-string. Thereâs nothing that Geto Suguru - rockstar, campus heartthrob, lead guitarist of the Sorcerers - doesnât have. Except for a new song idea. And you, his cute new muse.
A/N. Yâall wanted so daddy Tony provided mwahahahâŠ
âP-pleaseâŠâ Drool cascades down your mouth at an incredible pace, and your neck feels numb from how long youâve been holding it up.Â
From how long youâve just been staring at himâGeto Suguru.
Fresh off of his latest concert, heâs delving his tongue between your folds like an animal. Like heâd been starved all throughout the night- and he canât seem to stop. Heâs got one ringed hand pressed down on your stomach, and the other rovering across your sensitive nub.Â
You feel him purse his pretty lips and spit, letting the syrupy knot dribble down your thighs like a waterfall.Â
Geto throws his long, inky hair back; that curved piercing on his lip glittering with the wads of your mess. And he groans, âI have to make it up to my gorgeous muse in some way, yeah?â Especially after the best set of his entire life.Â
He was insane.Â
And youâre wondering how the hell you even got here.
.
.
.
âFuck-â Geto sighs between his clenched teeth, one hand gripping onto his scribbled sheets. The other runs through his hair until itâs all unruly. A few bystanders swoon- it almost makes him feel better.Â
Heâs pacing through the corridors of campus, solely because his bandmates had banned him from pacing inside the practice room. Long legs taking about five normal steps a stride, he absentmindedly nods at all the starstruck passerbys, the fans.Â
Being in the midst of writing a new song usually does get him this way - for about a day. Two days. Maximum.Â
But itâs been weeks and he hasnât been able to jot even a single verse down, hasnât scrambled together anything for the upcoming gig. Gojo said it was alright - that they could scrounge up something off the old EP - but Geto knew it rested on him, as lead guitarist, and vocalist.Â
Imagine, an opening act with no fresh songs.Â
If only he could just writeâbut what about? Heartbreak? Love? Heâd rather write about Yaga.
âFuck!â He spits again- just in time with your very own startled profanity. A pretty voice.Â
A cute bump! before the two of you stumble backwards, colliding into each other. A plumage of papers burst into the air, and start showering the smooth tile below. Getoâs down at the mess and internally groaning; all those half-written, mostly-crossed songs mixed in with what looked like your lecture notes. Perfect.
Without looking up, heâs bending down to rifle through them, when-
âOh, youâre in a band?â
âYes?â Geto snaps his head up, somewhat shocked that youâre speaking to him, even though he knows he shouldnât be. And then Geto Suguru - campus heartthrob, gets a laundry list of numbers after every concert, the untouchable - catches a glimpse of you and justâŠstares.
With his raven brows slightly raised, and the shapely curve of his mouth parting. Ever-so-slightly.Â
âHi.â
You have to fight back a smile, âHi.â Was that seriously the red tint of a blush crawling across his handsome cheekbones?
Oh, he canât stop staring.
Itâs long enough that youâre clearing your throat, dropping your gaze as you pick up your own papers. âI should have probably started off with that. Sorry I uh- I just see youâve been writing songs.â
âTrying to,â he huffs. Half-joking.Â
And then the intricate metal of his ring brushes your own fingertips as you hand him one of his sheets; less song lyrics and more ugly caricatures of Nanami. He lingers the touch. Itâs electric.Â
It makes the forefront of his fingers twitch. Almost jolt. And they itch towards you as if trying to prolong the skin-to-skin contact, as if trying to hold onto a pen.Â
It suddenly hits Geto - he needs to write.Â
âHey uh- do you have a- thank you.â His voice trails off as you catch his drift and quickly hand him a pen, Geto then rapidfire scrawls down a few words. Phrases. Not even entire sentences, just an explosion of feelings that pulsed like the thumping of his own heart.Â
And then someone calls out his name - perhaps in greeting, perhaps in a yell to move off of the middle of the hallway - and his hand stops writing. Fuck- what was that? He looks at you again, and hands you back the pen, âI promise Iâm not usually this unsmooth.â Holding out his hand for a handshake, your palm fits in his and he hears nothing but melodies in his head. âThe nameâs Geto, Geto Suguru. But you can call me Suguru, all my friends do. Iâm in the band âSorcerers.ââ
Youâre introducing yourself with your own name and he almost has the urge to write that down, too. Humming, âItâs alright, band stuff, I assume?â
âBand stuff.â You were walking with him now, side-by-side.
âKeyboard?â
âGuitar.â It made sense - the tattoos that crept all over his strong, beefy arms, those twinkling piercings. What didnât make sense was just why he felt the need to show it all off for you; like the minutes before a big concert, his fingers trembled. But he grins, and itâs something devilish. âAnd vocals.â
Walking backwards now so that your gorgeous, gorgeous face can face him. You slow down your walk and heâs realizing that youâve arrived at your class.Â
Heâs realizing that he just might not see you again.
And he wanted to see more of you.
A lot more of you.Â
A few of your classmates throw the two of you looks as they pass, walking inside the class. Geto was a bit of a campus legend; and for as popular as he was, seeing him talk to someone outside of his band - especially during his song-writing blues - was rare. Exceptionally rare.Â
So he bites the inside of his cheek, âActuallyâŠyou think youâd wanna see it in person sometime? Likeâtonight?â
âOh?â
.
.
.
âMan, a grown-ass man should not be giggling like that.â
âI would hate to remind you that you do nothing but giggle.â
âIâm just special like that, Nanamin~â Gojo winks at the blond-haired drummer, who makes to throw down his drumsticks before paying attention to the concert setlist instead. Anything but him.
Unfortunately, Gojo does not have that willpower and was entirely too invested in whatever had his best friend acting like a middle-schooler with a crush. Bright-eyed. Flush-faced. Glued to his phone since before rehearsal started. Skipping around the corners of the practise roomâskipping, he swears.
He throws a wadded up ball of paper - yet another one of Getoâs failed lyrical attempts - at the back of his head. It hits. And he doesnât even notice.Â
Shoko herself looks up from her phone, âBut in all honesty, what is up with you today?âÂ
âDid a new type of guitar drop orââ Gojo grumbles from his other guitar station, looking above the metal rim of his glasses. Yes, the ones he wore indoors.Â
Geto pulls himself away from his glaring screen with a low, mindless, âHuh?â
âFor fuckâs sake whatâs got you so-â
âHi, sorry- I hope Iâm not interrupting.â
Just then, you walk in. Door opening; thereâs no way you couldâve gotten in without invitation. And thereâs no way you werenât invited by Geto.
Because, immediately, your eyes meet his deep, amethyst ones. Like two ships at sail, youâre beaming a smile at all of them - but the brightest one for him. Going to stand at his side as he plunges his phone back in his trousers. And then he gets it.
Oh, they get it.
Nanami blinks.
Haibara waves.
Shoko takes a picture (with flash, of course.)
Gojo whistles.
And then Gojo promptly gets smacked upside the head - by two different hands, two different people. Geto makes a note of wiping off his palm before introducing the rotation of amateur musicians and visitors to each other.Â
âNow what sheâs really here for isnât your dumbasses.â Heâs rolling his eyes, pulling on the lightning purple guitar of his. âItâs for the music-â He tilts his head with a smile, â-and me.â
You were here for a few demonstrations, after bumping into Geto and exchanging numbers - to which they gladly pump out the best of their best for a pretty girl. Hell, Geto thinks he even sees Nanami and Shoko putting in a lilâ extra effort, and canât help but strum even louder.Â
Letting the electric twang of his guitar take over.
It still rings in the air after they finish a runthrough of their first three songs. And youâre clapping fervently by the end of it.Â
âThat was amazing.â
âWhy thank you, sweetheart-â
âWhy thank you, gorgeous.â Geto quickly takes over, silently glaring at Gojo to leave. He gets the message - albeit reluctantly, and soon enough is being dragged by Nanami, Haibara, and Shoko out for some fresh air and a brief break outside the room.
Leaving the two of you alone.
âSoâŠâ
âSo.â Getoâs scratching behind his neck, where there was a massive inky tattoo of a dragon. Snaking. Fuck- when has he ever had this much trouble talking toâŠwell, anyone, really?
And heâs clearing his throat, not letting the silence drag out for much longer before the thick fabric of his guitar strap loops over your own neck. Safely swaddled. Youâre looking up at him with such adorable confusion as he snickers, âWanna learn how to play?â
âHell yeah.â And before long your fingers are twisting over a few chords - tangling. Heâs attempting to teach you about the G chord and the E major, and youâre attempting not to fall to your knees.Â
After a few unsuccessful tries, heâs catching onto your desperation and gesturing for you to sit on the carpeted floor. Perhaps to teach you hands-on, perhaps to make you relax- but whatever it was, you certainly didnât expect him to sidle up behind you.
For his toned pecs to press up against your shoulders, you could hear Getoâs gravelly breath graze the shell of your ear. He leans over, his lengthy hair tickling your neck. âLikeâŠâ Much larger hands covering yours, â-this.â
And then heâs just so gentle.
Youâre not sure what exactly you expected, but he holds your hands in his like glass. Oh-so-softly helping your fingerpads prick at the strings of his guitar, âSâeasier this way.â
âYeahââ youâre breathing out, practically in his lap with the way that his long legs were curling underneath yours, nowhere to go. And his tone core presses against your back, weight leaning slightly on you so that he can see what you do.Â
You donât know what youâre doing.
You grin once your hapless chords actually start to formulate into something that sounds like itâs part of a song. Something slow. Almost sensual. âItâs beautiful- what song is this, I donât think itâs one you played?â
âBecause itâs not.â Heâs purring from behind, piercing catching the light as he grins. âYou really like it~?â
Something was dripping darkness in his voice, and your breath catches. âY-yes.â He was taking over completely. Guiding your hands with his experienced ones, they slide looooong and slow down the neck of the guitar.Â
From the back of Getoâs throat, heâs murmuring a barely-audible few words. âCome and get it now. Come and get it now.â Lowered eyes gliding in a feline manner to you, âBaby show me what youâre doing- hm.â
You snap out of your little bubble as he stops abruptly.
Looking somewhat sheepish, âItâs a work in progress.â
âI think it might be my favorite already.â You admit. And you donât know whether itâs your imagination - you donât know whether youâre projecting - but you couldâve sworn that his heat does a thunderous ba-dumpâ! from where his chest was plastered to your body from behind.Â
Youâre yelping, jostled as he pulls you in even closer. âThat so? Maybe you can help me write it then?â
âMe?â You balk, âHow-â
The plump end of his lips curl, sinfully. It was almost unfair how he could look so attractive without even trying- âJust by sitting there. Just by being here. It helps.â
âBy being here with you?â
âBeing here with me.â Confirming. And by the way he was gazing upon you through his peripheral vision, fingerpads still tracing your digits, your knuckles, even though you werenât playing anything. âSâthat a problem?â
You find it hard to swallow. âNot at all.â
Close.
You two were too close.
And that wouldnât have been a problem if you were moving awayâbut the fact of the matter is that you were moving closer. Your lashes flutter, and his own dilated pupils alternate in a triangle between your right eye, your left eye, your mouth.
Closer.
Until-
âIâm coming in and you two better not be fucking in there- ouch! What was that for Nanamin?â
âYouâre a bad wingman, Gojo-senpai.â
âSorry, Haibara.â
Before the Sorcerers can bustle their way through those soundproof walls once more, youâre hastily scrambling off of Getoâs lap. For now.
.
.
.
âI heard youâve tamed the cult leader of Tokyo Tech-â
âThe who?â You squint at Utahime, trying to figure out whether she was simply trying to raise your blood pressure so early in the morning. No. She was dead serious.
âNo need to hide it, Shoko already told me everything. So- about the cult leader of Tokyo Tech?â she repeats, as if that was enough. And when you look dangerously close to an aneurysm, sheâs sighing. âGeto Suguru? Tall, tattoos, piercings, dark hair, devastatingly hot- you know who Iâm talking about, I can see you fantasizing about him already.â
âIâm not fantasizing.â Youâre insisting, though it sounds as if youâve been caught. Any louder and Yaga would give up on glaring at the two of you, and instead send you out of the lecture completely. Only just started, but already the gossip was hot in class.Â
You just couldnât believe it was about you and him.
With your pitch slightly back to normal, you try to sound as civilized as possible as you say, âI am not fantasizing. Nor will I ever.â
Utahime puts her face in her open hand and shakes her head, âRight. Nor will you ever. So that means you completely, totally wouldnât fantasize about him walking into this class right now and sweeping you off of your feet?â
Well, you had to admit that class was getting a bit droningâŠbut you had to stick to your claim. It was the principle of it. âCorrect.â
âAnd so that means you completely, totally wouldnât care about the fact that he just did walk into this class?â
âCorre- what?â Your desk rattles, just a little bit, as you turn your body around to face the entrance. And you find that Utahime hadnât been lying: not the part about him coming to class, or the part about him being âdevastatingly hotâ from prior.
He saunters in with such confidence, Yaga himself doesnât point out that heâs just about fifteen minutes late. And he stands at the foot of the lecture hall, eyes scanning the seat and- you donât think youâve moved faster in your life than at that very moment. Youâre throwing both yours and Utahimeâs bags onto the floor from where theyâd been placed on the empty seat beside you.
Ignoring her half-hearted âhey!â you let Geto spot you. Like his eyes were drawn to you.Â
Itâs then that youâre noticing heâs wearing glasses. You think he should wear them more often.
And heâs gladly taking the seat, his dark, skin-tight arm-cut pressing against your side. âThanks, gorgeous.â Noticing all the stares, perhaps even a few whispers that erupt. He leans in real close to mutter in your ear, âTheyâre just jealous.â
Somewhere in the distance, you think you hear your friend gag. After some brief introductions, you ponder, âI didnât know you were in this class.â
âNever attended.â He slumps in his chair, making himself look almost too lanky for it, almost too big. In front of you, you think you see Yagaâs bushy brows raise at the interaction - and the fact that Geto Suguru was actually here. âYaga doesnât count it. Only reason Iâm topping the classââ He smiles, showing off his lip piercing. And if you didnât know any better, you swear you could see that he had a tongue piercing, as well. â-second place.â
âBraggart.â
âSore loser.â
âNerd.â
âThat I am,â he chuckles. Geto shuffles through his backpack, patch-worked with various pins and decorations of bandsâyou think you can make out Green Day, Nirvana, The Garden, and a few more that heâs more than happy to show off.Â
What he pulls out isnât his laptop, or a textbook of any kind - itâs his lyrics notebook. And he spreads it open between the two of you, to a page with a few half-written verses.Â
Met each other just the other day.
But you got me feeling some type of way.
And then past an empty space where you assume he wanted to add in some more:
I wanna hear youâŠ
I wanna see youâŠ
With your own pencil, youâre making a few tweaks. You finish off that second-last sentence that he seemed to be stuck onâI wanna hear you confess.Â
Getoâs pearly white teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he toys with the chunky rings on his fingers for a few seconds. Youâre unsure if that meant he was hesitating. If that meant he was thinking. Considering.
Before he leans over and finishes the other lineâI wanna see you undress now.
Something zips down your spine, your thighs clench- and you find that he follows them with his own. Bumping his knee against yours. And you push right back against his, following the quiet scritch-scratch of his graphite starting to jot down a few more lyrics.
You got me down on my knees.
Itâs getting harder to breathe out.
You always did seem to pull that out of him.
Utahime pinches you as the two of you continue, whispering in your ear so that only you could hear. âWhat was that about not fantasizing?â
âShut up.â
.
.
.
A party.
An open bar.Â
And the thrumming music.
But you and Geto werenât anywhere near the dance floor, or the lengthy drinks table, or where the couples sneak off to make out- actually, scratch that. Because you two might just be occupying a lilâ alcove in Gojo and Getoâs penthouse apartment.
With the heady college party raging around you two - one that the band had been the one to invite you to - somehow, youâd found yourself with him. Shoulders against shoulders. Skin against skin. Your hands brushing against his when you pick up the pen from his handsâ
âOh, I like this one better than the last-â You circle the lyric that heâd just jotted down, with a few notes of your own that he always loved to read. Something about âchurning his gearsâ, whatever that meant. He was almost done with the song now, it seemed.Â
âMmm, thatâs what I was thinking.â He hums, thoughtfully, dark bangs falling across his face. It was no wonder that half the party was split between waltzing past the alcove merely to get a glimpse of him.
And the other half was on the other side of the penthouse, out of pure shyness.Â
The thick pads of his fingers scratch out some more writing on his notepad, messy and masculine. His rings glint as heâs scrawling, âIf I can figureâŠit out. Iâd take youâŠback to my house andââ He halts, unsure how the rest of that sentence would go. With his tongue still rolling on those words, heâs glancing at you sidelong.
As you tilt your head in confusion, heâs smirking. âNo, sâjust funny. Youâre already in my house.â
âMhm, and what are you suggesting?â You raise a brow.
âOhhh, nothing. Just the song.â And he raises one right back, teasingly. His cherry-vodka laced breath wafting across your features, âAnd what are you suggesting, gorgeous?â
âNothing, just the song.â
âAre you sure?â Heâs tilting his head down at you, even in the cramped space he somehow seemed to tower over you with his hulking frame. Sheer size. And his deltoid pushes against the side of your body, âYouâre awfully close, yâknow?â The way that he was leaning even closer.Â
And you can only sputter at his audacity- âAre you sure?â
âOi! You twoââ Gojo Satoru always did seem to have a penchant for interruptions. You donât know if youâre maddened by it or grateful- the air was thick, and you couldnât seem to breathe as well as you might have.Â
Directly in front of you, from the other side of the room right opposite, Gojoâs waving his hand frantically. His booming voice echoing all across the house, âStop flirtinâ in there and take a shot!â
Oh, you could imagine the rumors that were taking root already.
Geto flips him off. With a deadpan expression that told his best friend that heâd be staying here with his work (and you, mostly just for you), thank you very much.
Gojo trills, âWeâre doing body shots~â
âLetâs go, gorgeous.â Instantly, he looks at you.
âWha- huh?â You donât know whether youâve sustained whiplash by how fast heâs changed his mind, or by how fast heâs moving. With his fingers smoothly replacing the pen in your hands with his own set of digitsâbig nâ warm.
Geto holds both his lyrical notebook and you as close as possible as heâs meandering through the party. Through the slightly taken-aback gasps, the flirtatious waves, and the grinding bodies.Â
Gojo looks smugly accomplished by the time youâre making it through the whirlwind party in the middle to reach their table of alcohol. Thereâs a small group forming now already, cheering on the reunion of the main duo.Â
Geto looks at him, and thereâs a small flicker of understanding that passes. Invisible but existing.
âYou two go first-â The white-haired man then thrusts one full shot glass of tequila into Getoâs hands- then immediately grabs ahold of you and cricks your head side to tap out a line of salt down the column of your throat. A wedge of lime between your teeth, pulp side out. Without any adhesive surface, it was messy, scattering nearly up to your jawline. It tingles on your skin once you realize just what was about to happen.
As Getoâs mouth tightens at Gojoâs rough handling of you, the other finishes off. â-Iâve gotta find Nanamin first so he can do one with me.â
Shoko groans. âYouâre a lightweight.â
âExactly.â
âKento ran out of the building I believe, senpai.â Haibara beams.
And as Gojo whines his protests, Geto can only shake his head- partially because of his bandâs antics, partially to clear his fuzzy brain because of you.
You. You. You.
Oh, what gave you the right to present that sensual neck up at him like that? Your teeth worrying your lower lip as if you were nervous. He catches the way your gaze slightly tracks towards the cat-calling crowd, and one roughened hand of his cups your cheek.
Tilting your face ever-so-carefully to look at him instead of the audience.
His pinkish tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he leans in close- as if he was going to whisper something. As if he was going to kiss you.
Before Geto immediately downs the acrid liquid in the glass, barely even reacting. Barely even finishing his swallow before his long, flexible tongue glides up the salt lining your throat. And then where he didnât hesitate before, didnât even slow down: he takes a look at the sour lime between your lips and grins.
Slowly, agonizingly.
Heâs moving his greedy maw forwards, the plump edges of his mouth hovering above your own. You feel the pressure on the lime as he lightly sucksâand as your knees weaken, heâs easily taking it into his own mouth.
With just the lightest graze of his lips on your lips.
An indirect kiss? A direct kiss? You didnât even know at this point.
Geto stares at you through his wispy bangs, dead-straight in your widened eyes when he sucks on the lime. Easily ridding it of all juice, he takes it out.Â
Then, like a gentleman, the fat crown of his thumb wipes away the stray salt that dusts your jawline. Somewhere near the edge of your lips that youâre sure wasnât coated in salt at all. But you werenât complaining.
Your ears were ringing, and only too late do you realize that the half-drunk students around you were in uproar. Gasping. Fanning. Staring.Â
Gojo himself gapes slightly speechless.Â
âMeddle about.â
âWhat?â You startle, it had been thick silence in your little bubble until nowâlike an extension of the alcove. But Geto was the first to break it.
Heâs smiling down at you like he knew something you didnât, then taps the song notebook in your hands- when did it even get in your hands? âIf I could figure it out-â Smoky breaths, like heâd just run a marathon. Pants. Heaves. His eyes draaaag down your body, that special outfit youâd put on just for the party. â-Iâd take you back to my house, so we can meddle about.â
Oh.
Oh.
It takes you far too long to recognize heâs talking about the song. The song.
Even if heâs looking at you in a way that shows otherwise.
âJust get a room- honestly-â Gojo whines, but then promptly turns to Shoko. âTell me you got that on camera- please tell me you got that on camera.â
âI did.â
It was palpable. To just about everyone in the roomâincluding a gruff Nanami Kento who walks back in after a few urgent calls from Haibara, then immediately blanches as he looks around the room. At the two of you.
He turns to run.
And as the three others turn to run as well (towards Nanami, in order to catch him), you turn to Geto- only to find that heâs already looking at you. He takes a long lick of his lower lip, lapping up the remnants of liquor. Something glinting in his dark eyes, as if he was trying to figure something out.
Something.
.
.
.
âHey, let me try something.â
It was the day of their concert, just before. And youâre looking on in slight confusion as Geto taps away the last few notes of his rehearsal, in the green room. The other quartet had slipped out for last-minute drinks beforehand, it was a somewhat dingy hole-in-the-wall bar, but Geto had told you that the music here was legendary.
You trusted him. So you donât question it either when heâs dragging you by the hand to sit upon one of the big, boxy speakers they kept in the corner of the room.
Making sure the cable connection with his electric guitar was alright- before he strums.
You gaspâthe vibrations were tingling all the way at the tip of your feet, and up to the very crown of your scalp. And everywhere in-between. Especially between your legs.
You gape, and Geto snickers like he knew exactly what you were thinking. He hums, low in the aftermath of the guitar screech. âPretty nice, huh? Dâyou wanna sit on one of those while we play up there?â
âA-are you sure?â Could you even handle that?
âMhm. And I think itâll help to have you so close, too- when we play our new song.â Heâs helping you hop off the speaker and stand on your slightly wobbly legs. Arm still helping support you as you teeter your way towards the green room sofa.Â
It was covered in a blanket of parchment. Sheet music, papers, lyrics.
As you silently look through all the different versions of that song heâd been writing, Geto sits beside you. Arms against arms. Thighs against thighs. Bodies against bodies. Shuffling through all these papers, it almost reminds you of the day you met.
âSo many rewrites,â you giggle. Looking through all the infinite crosses and scratches on the papers as he wrote, and rewrote, and rewrote. All day and all night, it seemed. And yet heâs found that everything, words especially, just seem to flow easier around you.
âI wrote it for you.â His dark lashes lower, confessing. âTheyâre all for you.â
Your heart races- a part of you expected it. A part of you still canât believe it. âYou did?â
âYeah.â He turns to face you, properly, now. With his predatory gaze making a beeline for your mouth, âSâthat a problem?â
âYeah.â You swallow, âAnd I like it.â
And then your backâs splayed out across the couch, draped all over Getoâs toned front. Heâs got one of his knees wedged between your thighs, and youâre yelping at the sudden movement.
You were just so cute- heâd barely even done anything, and yet you were starting to drench those poor panties of yours already. If he grinded his knee any harder, then heâs sure heâd have a splotchy dark spot that all the audiences would see once heâs up on that stage.
But right now, he didnât care.
Not at all.
One tattooed hand of his pins down two of yours somewhere by the armrest of the couch.
And your cunt twitches when his face starts looming closer. The shimmering tip of his tongue toying with his lip piercing for a few seconds. Eyes partly-closed to watch you through his lashes, and his mouth greedy to taste yours. He throatily whispers, âI think I just finished the entire song right now, gorgeous.â
Like this, youâre raising your head to meet Geto halfway with a whine. Fluttering your gaze shut as you ready yourself to kiss himâ
âHey, dâyou wanna shot before we head ou- ohohoh?!â
âOh.â
âCongratulations, Geto senpai!â
Nanami leaves, the only one out of the four that seemed to have some inkling of respect for your privacy. Though, to be fair, this was the common green room. And as you try your very best to block out Gojoâs screeches, and Shokoâs constantly shuttering camera, Geto dips down.Â
Not to kiss you - not right now - but rather, to whisper in your ear. âAfter the show, mâgonna take you back to my house so we could meddle about.â
.
.
.
After that, it wasnât just meddling about.Â
Hell, after that, the two of you didnât even make it to his damn penthouse.Â
The minute the concert was over to roaring cheers and quite a few bras thrown on-stage- Getoâs meaningful eyes had locked straight with yours. Seated upon the speaker, and dripping wet from what he could tell from your face.Â
He doesnât think he even debriefed with the band or said his goodbyes.Â
Just a hand on your wrist, the other on your waist. Attached meanly so that he can give the side of your ass a good smack- Getoâs pushing you into the back of his 2018 jet-black Dodge Demon, parked outside the dingy bar. Thank fuck he didnât decide to take the bike today.
Slamming you into the leather backseats, pinning your hips down.
Youâre fucking them back into him already, just as he cups your drivelling pussy through your panties. Whining, âP-please, Suguru. Donât tease.â
âFuck-â Heâs hissing, taking his hand off of your cute cunt as if it burned. And it did - not to have you in his mouth and around his fingers, that is. First, heâs letting his dark leather jacket drop to the floor, right along with his undershirt.Â
And you take the time to admire how sexy he was.
From the detailed tattoos that trickled down his neck, to the dragon on his back, to the side of his hip that was decorated with one of a sting-ray. Right on his v-line.Â
Then heâs moving to take off his fat, silver ringsâbut you stop him right there. And the look on your face must say enough for you, because just then youâre seeing his features split with such a brilliant smile. Oh, he knew what you wanted. Geto huskily spits, âAlright then, naughty girl. So take it.â
Youâre letting off a sudden yelp once he plunges his cold, ringed fingers between your spit-slicked lips.Â
Heâs swabbinâ them all around like an animal, letting your maw suck on him like your favorite lolly. And, fuck, he canât lie- watching you drool and whine around him like this might just be the hottest thing heâs ever seen.Â
With two glittering rivers of spit dripping down either side of your mouth, youâre moaning once you catch sight of his hand snaking down to his pants. âMmm, gorgeous, I wanna make you sing.â With only one hand, heâs undoing his chunky belt and the rest of his buttons.Â
He looks you right in the eyes - not even the slightest bit shy - as he pushes down his dark pants so that you can see the bulging outline of Getoâs erection through his boxers. Rock-hard.Â
And just as you gaspâhis fingers reel back from your slobbery mouth, and slightly teases down your slit. You gush with the drag of his thick thumb, all around him till his wrist was all wet with sweet syrup.Â
You hold onto his flexing shoulders, âO-oh.â Your hips rutting directly into his hands.Â
âOh- oh, gorgeous.â Geto doesnât even want to speak too loud, not when your pussy was echoing out the most lewd squelches. âSheâs reeeeeally happy to see me, huh? Havenât had a warm welcome this nice since- ever.â His fingers swirl âround your tight hole and watches as you just keep on pushing out wave upon wave of your juices. Swirl upon swirl.
Until his digits were just so glazed in all your cream that he couldnât help but carnally yearn for a little taste. Just a little - you canât blame him.
Glistening rivulets of slick travel down his pale forearm as he lifts his hand up- you were just that wet for him. And then Geto sucksâthen his eyes widen. Then he pants. Then he almost flinches at just how cloyingly good you tasted on his savoring tongue.
Looking you right in your eyes, Geto licks up every last drop from his fingers. And he gusts out the most primal slurps as he does so.Â
âOh, gorgeous,â heâs repeating, like before. But there was something different this time. Something faintlyâŠwrecked. As the last few dollops of slick disappear down his throat, he groans. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, âOh, fuck- thatâs not enough.â
It all happens at once. All of a sudden, heâs on his knees on the floor of the backseat. Knees digging into the carpet below, your upper half being more or less propped up on the cushion.Â
Itâs giving you whiplash how fast it happens, and youâre staring at Geto in slight shock at his strength. To which he catches your cute, bulged gaze and answers, âMânot playing around anymore, gorgeous.â
Skirt, pantiesâeverything is torn off of you with only one of his hands. That lacy lilâ underwear of yours in particular catching his interest. He makes sure to put it in his back pocket - then turns on the backseat light. Uncaring, because his windows were tinted pitch black.
Right now he just smears apart your pussylips with his two thumbs. Heâs never seen a prettier fuckinâ sight; how glittering and wet you were, with your folds so swollen that it looked like you were pouting up at him.
Geto plants one sweet lilâ peck right in the middle of your cunt and lingers, just smelling the sugary whiff of your body wash. And that primal scent of your pussyâ
âMmm, yâknow what they say about guitarists?â Heâs murmuring wetly, right against your sex so that youâll squirm all cutely.Â
âWh-what?â You puff out, a heady breath.
He doesnât answer- thatâs because your wettened pussy is answering for you. With a great, upheaving squeeeeelch heâs sinking inside his lengthy tongue. Past your folds nâ all the way to spearhead into your gooey insides. Muffled, âThat.â
Itâs barely even registering in your mind, because then Getoâs thrusting his ridged tastebuds in nâ out like heâs gone insane.
In and out, in and out.
With such vulgarity, heâs pressing himself nose-deep against your cunt and breathing you in. Letting the sharp edge of his nose just press on your clit, Getoâs jaw works overtime to prod his bludgeoning tongue.Â
Slapping against the roof of your pussy, heâs prolonging his muscle into spots you didnât even know you had. âOh my n-ngh, fuck!â And so thick, just stretching out your damp hole until you see white.
You gurgle on your own spittle at the sloppy drags of his tastebuds, and pathetically attempt to push back on his clammy scalp. âW-wait, I can feel a- ngh, donât tell me you really have aâŠâ
âHave a what, gorgeous?â Just to tease you, Geto jerks his head back- letting his tongue flop out of your pussy for just a second. And youâre missing his size inside you, but most of all youâre awestruck by the cold metal piercing right in the middle of his pink tongue.
And he was proudly stuffing it straightly back into your entrance, this time spitting. He smears the line of saliva that glues to your sultry folds, âA piercing- yeah. Sâthat a problem?â
âN-noâŠâ Your head starts to drop backwards at the sudden usage of his piercing now. You could feel that circular orb poke into your soft innards, like a cold finger almost. Youâve never felt anything like this. âI like it- oh! I like it, I really doââ
âMhm, glad we cleared that up, baby.â Geto purrs, and he lightly smacks the front of your pussy in adoration. Watching as specks of pearly slick spurt all over his hand, âNow, how about this?â
Before you know it, heâs squeezing in the crowned tip of his finger past your hole - two of them, in fact. And your elastic entrance stretches with the most rawly wet noises, ones that he leans his ear closer to hear even better. Even louder.
Geto snickers meanly once one of his rings catch on your snug hole, and you flinch. âThere we go-â He eases them in with repeated pumps, âTheeere we go. Hah, told you I wanted to make this pretty lady sing.â
âFuh-fuuuuck, I canât help it, ngh.â Your entire body breaks out in trembles, and the bottom one of your lips starts wobbling.
Oh, he could write songs- fuck that, he could write an entire album about you at this very moment.
But right now, he had more important things to do. Namely: you. And Geto plucks apart your sticky folds to take a good, long look at your cunt swallowinâ in his fingers. Push after push. Probe after probe.
The knobbly, scouring ends of his fingers delve in deep and send you spiralling. âYou donât need to mmm, help it, gorgeous.â Heâs continuing where your conversation had trailed off. âYou just need toâŠâ
And heâs gulping wet wads of saliva that just slide down his throat.Â
His thick Adamâs apple bobbing, Getoâs flaring his nostrils- making sure to focus his entire aim on exactly hitting that one spot he knew youâd love. That one spot heâs thrusting in with a rough jackhammer and pushingââ-to project.â
And you were projecting that pretty voice alright.
Youâre screaming almost feverishly at the sensation of him scraping your inner lining, your walls cling onto him maddeningly. Gobbling him up as he hits your g-spot at a frenzied pace - once, twice, thrice.Â
âPlease-â Babbling out stupidly, tears cascade down your cheeks when he manages to shove your wet orifice apart. Youâre drip-drip-driiiiping gummy wetness once he pushes in a second fat fingertip, the globular edge of his swipinâ each nook nâ cranny of your cunt. âPlease please please- I need ngh-â
âYeahhh, who do you need, gorgeous?â
âY-youâŠâ
Geto cups his ear with a mocking smile, and heâs crushing your throbbing clit between his front teeth. Just gnawing. âMhmmmâ?â
âYou-â Youâre sobbing out - squealing. Your back hits the seat of the cushion as you slump over, and heâs forced to push down on your stomach with one hand just to stop you from rovering about. Pinning you down.
âBabyyyy, you know I love to hear your- hah, voice.â Heâs drawling out, and his words were just as sloppy as his mouth. Just salivating all over. âI have a feeling you can be louder though.â
âSugu-â
âLouder~â
Putting all the pressure on your lower body when he sliiiiides every inch of his long, knobbly fingertips inside. The doughy pads of them push into your g-spot just right, until you felt all battered nâ bruised by him. âPlease- you- ngh, you, Suguru.â
âThere- what did I tell you. Fuck, I wish I could h-have this on speaker.â Groaning. Panting. âYeahhhh, you like that, huh? Want my tongue, t-too? Oh.â
But then youâre clasping his sweaty forehead and shoving him down between your legs. Where his curving tongue was sloppily zig-zagging all over, and youâre trilling. âK-keep going, mmm.â Cock twitching. Rutting so hard that his damned muscle car jostles.
He couldnât even catch his breath - and he didnât want to. âWell, I hafta make it up to my muse in some way, yeah?â
His tongue is so expert, too. Youâre easily getting louder - even more than you first thought possible. Partly because of the way his pierced tongue was resting on your overstimulated nub. Flicking your ruddied clit until it felt all raw, again nâ againâyou were so far gone by this point that Geto can feel each pulse of your hot core on his mouth.
And he counts it - one, two, three, four. Like the beat of his favorite melody- fuuuuck, he was so pussydrunk right now that he might just memorize it and write it as the next beat of his song.Â
âY-youâd- hck! what?â Youâre hiccuping in pure disbelief, unsure if those words had actually (accidentally) fallen from Getoâs mouth, or if he was makinâ out with your cunt so good that you were hearing things. You wouldnât be surprised.
âExactly what I jusâ said.â
And Geto isnât, either.Â
Of course, he was bound to be fucking stupid on the sultry taste of your pussy. Especially when you were streaming out wet ribbons of slick with each rovering push of his fingers.Â
He vulgarly wets his lips a lilâ in the liquid leaking out, and then promptly plops his open mouth over your sopping hole. Geto had lapped up all the slick stuck to your folds, your thighs, your clit - now the one place left was inside.Â
And he was still hungry.
His pierced lip draaaaagging over your quivering orifice, Geto starts to push his tongue in eagerly. Uncaring for the way he was already barreling his fingers inside. Uncaring of the absolutely incredible stretch that was making your back arch.Â
Nâ heâs so dexterous. Alternating between wet whacks! at the front channel of your walls, and then licking over your clit. He was plastered to your pussy in a way that felt maddening- âSh-shit, I donât think mâgonna last, Suguââ
âSugu, huh?â He raises a neat brow at the nickname, âI like that.â
And if it was possible, his narrowed strikes are accelerating. More honed, more precise to your g-spot, itâs like a cute lilâ bullseye that he canât stop hitting. All because it makes you shake and whine like that.Â
âMmm, yeah, just like that. Câmon, gorgeous girl- come and get it-â Geto gruffs now, the back of his throat all hoarse. His baritone voice was on the verge of breaking at this point. âRide my mouth, would you?â
Youâre whimpering, because Getoâs then opening his pretty mouth even wider for you to ride him - but youâre so weak.Â
Your limp knees struggling to keep on rutting- only for Geto to then shift a free hand underneath you.Â
Feeling all his firm biceps nâ muscles bulge as he keeps you up, just so strong- fuck, was it all those guitar sessions? He gurgles out, âUpsy daisy. Lemme help you cum, baby.â Dragging; heâs just moving you like a ragdoll, push and pull of his slippery tongue.Â
Just babbling nonsensical syllables.Â
And heâs gluing his upper lip to your clit, to your folds, to your weepy hole. Everywhere and anywhere that youâll be feeling the most pleasure, then heâs twirlinâ the pointed tip of his tongue inside like heâs reaching for your g-spot with that.
Like heâs fucking you with his cock. Craving to.Â
Again and again, it makes you squirm.
Your syrupy goodness starts to drip down his forearm at the sheer pressure, showing him that youâre close. And with each bash of his three fingertip circumferences, Geto grunts. âLemme help you- let me- ngh, you have to cum, okay? Cum alllll over my tongue.â
âYes-â Being moved. And soon enough, with a few more vicious thwacks! your mouth hangs open in a silent scream. âS-Sugu, IâmâŠâ
Itâs the only thing youâre able to intone at the moment. The only thing that you can even think of - your heavy orgasm. Youâre being manhandled, with your hips gyrated onto his face through every burst of pleasure.Â
Somehow, you start to wonder whether he doesnât need to breathe.
And heâs the one who doesnât care about it. Doesnât even care if he suffocates just as long as his mouth can remain plastered onto your pussy. Eating you out till heâs feeling dizzy.
And you? Youâre seeing white, before itâs a kaleidoscope of color because of the tears.
You hiccup, your chin dropping down to your chest to stare at him through comically swirling pupils. Practically heart-eyes at this point. âNgh, it feels so g-good, Sugu-â Your thighs start to twitch, feeling his orbed piercing spank down on your clit. Your very own tastebuds water at the stinging euphoria, the way he was scraping your innards. âMâso sensitive.â
âMhm, and youâre not tapping out now,â heâs challenging. Looking up at you through shaggy bangs, Geto grins around your thoroughly puffy folds. âBecause my throat is parched after the concert.â
You squeeze, so hard that he can feel his rings pushinâ against your sultry walls. Oh, he wonât be giving up so easily.
And by the time that Getoâs popping himself off of your treacly cunt - with a wet noise, with a few more kisses to your silvery slope, with a final bite on your clit - youâre run rightly ragged. You can barely even speak, occasionally tremoring at the shockwaves still bubbling through your veins.Â
âP-pleaseââ Youâre running your fingers tenderly through his dark locks, pushing them away from his face. And luckily for you, what a sight it was.Â
Because Getoâs high cheekbones were just cherry red in color from all the blushing and lack of air. From the way he was so pussydrunk on your cunt that it was starting to make him look oh-so-ruined. Eyelids heavy. Lips swollen.Â
He had a sheen of your slick splashed from his pointed chin, all the way up his cheeks. His jawline. And his lengthy tongue pops out once more to stretch nâ lick up those clingy wads. Making sure you see.
Bit by bit, your mouth grows more agape. âPlease, I wanâ your cock now, SuguâŠâ And you wanted it badly - that glimpse from before was enough to get you all antsy on his seat.
Slowly, sensually, Geto reaches out his fat thumb - the one from his left hand, that wasnât covered in your shiny juices - and wipes off the slobber trickling from one end of your mouth. Putting it in his own maw, he sucks it up like he sucks up the slick all over his other set of digits.Â
âAnything you say, my muse.â
He sounded husky, even more so than after the concert.
And you barely even have the time to touch whatever was left of the rest of your clothes - before Geto gently repositions your hands away and onto hold his slim waist. He undresses you himself, as if he was opening up a cute lilâ present.
Then heâs patting a thumb down onto the hem of his boxers, where black curls of his happy trail rested. Teasing.Â
âDonât tease.â You have half the mind to take them off yourself. Before Geto finally puts you out of your needy misery, and rids himself of those boxers.
And you were right - his bulging dick-print was huge, but the real thing was even more massive.Â
And hard. Rock-fucking-hard. Getoâs plump, puckered cockhead was a bright red that looked angry, and he was flushed all the way down to his heavy balls. All twitchinâ and tight at the thought of being inside you.Â
Hell, you swear you could even count the mere throbs of his veins, so far-gone that they seemed to make his decorated cock twitch in midair. But what you were gazing at the most wasnât all of that - even though it did catch your eye - it was the small, circular piercing that rested underneath the slit of his tip. A Prince Albertâs piercing.Â
Getoâs feeling the intensity of your stare and and leaks out a wad of buttery precum, a few droplets of it making it down his shaft. He wipes away the rest of it with the front pad of his thumb, and then pushes it between your gawking lips. âShut that hah, pretty mouth, gorgeous, donât wanna catch flies.â
You moan at the slightly salty taste, and it only makes your cunt grow even wetter. Only made you lean in even closer without even realizing - and Geto lets it happen.
He lets your pouty mouth slip all the way across his furiously weeping tip, pressing just one wet kiss in hello before a hand at your throat wrenches you away. âDonât even worry about it, babyââ He uses his chokehold on you to lift you up.
To flip you around and then smack the side of your asscheeks. You were on all fours now, with him pressing his muscular weight into your arched spine.
Geto gutturally groans out in your ear, âTonightâsââ And you feel something poke at your entrance. You feel something hard. â-allll about you.â
He rests a hand on the side of your hips, attaching, and then uses the force to drag you back into him. All filling up your gooey orifices with his erection, heâs squeezing himself inside like heâs gone feral.Â
Oh, heâs squeezing himself inside like heâs trying to make you feral.
That flared, mushroomy tip of his pryinâ apart your sticky walls, Geto uses his honed shaft to push nâ push nâ push. Too big to completely bottom out for now, but still making your mind spin with rapid, hard half-thrusts. You whine, âOh- oh!â Voice reaching a fever point. âPlease, a-all the way in, Sugu.â
âMmm, want it all the way ngh, in, huh?â Doing the exact opposite, Geto then slows. He then stops. His cute, orbed piercing rubbinâ the roof of your cunt frigidly back and forth. Ever-so-slightly. Teasingly.Â
Itâs only once you start huffing and puffing in disappointment that heâs chuckling, thinking that delirious expression was just too adorable on you. And in a low bass, Geto purrs out. âCome and get it now.â
âYouâre not seriouslyââ
âI am, show me how you do it-â His hand on your throat twists your face backwards - all tear-stained and fighting the urge to let your eyes roll to the back of your scalp. The moment he catches sight of your face properly, you feel his blistering hot cock twitch inside you. â-fuck, turn around.â
And he was urging you to fuck your hips back into his. Goading you into it, practically.
Firstly, you start off with a few tentative bounces. Just gyrating your hips, almost shy of his size. âL-like this?â
âNuh uh, baby.â Heâs tutting from behind, other hand scraping down your tummy. He wants to feel himself as he sinks in. âYou nâ I both know that you can do muuuch better than that.â And even though he wasnât moving, his cock seemed to be growing even bigger. Swelling. Elongating.
One of his curly veins rub up near your g-spot and you trill, âBut youâre just soâŠâ
âSo?â
The most shallow, wet grinds. Not enough to take him entirely, not enough to satiate you. âBig.âÂ
And then youâre blessed - well, more like punished - with a semi-rut, swabbinâ his thickened tip even deeper. You canât help but squeeze your plush walls around him, expecting more. âWanâ it that bad?â Swatting your ass, the force is enough that your flesh jiggles and he grins. âTake it, then. Mâall yours.â
So youâre raising your ass up even higher, arms wobbling limply in front of you. You use up all the energy left in your shattered body to perk your waist up just a bit, then slam down the rest of Getoâs length. Hitting his hard v-lines. Bottoming-out.Â
Taking him all the way from the fat, split-ended tip- down, down, dooooown till his hairs tickle your slope.
Geto raises a brow at the way youâre mewling uncontrollably by taking all of him, then his right hand starts to push nâ pull you with the restraint at your neck. âSâit that big? Hah- ya like it thaaaat much, gorgeous?â
âYes- oh, f-feels so good having you like this.â You moan, every time he was elongating his words, Geto made sure to glide the cold metal of his piercing down your spongy cervix. âFuck, can barely even ngh! take it.â
And you have the feeling that if he could reach even further than that, then he would in a heartbeat.
âBut you are.â
Before you know it, a wet splat! of something strikes your cunt folds. Youâre turning your head over your shoulder to find out that it was Geto spitting on your already-dripping pussy, an invisible string of it still connecting his mouth to your entrance.Â
âBecause mâproud of you, my muse.â He drawls out, and he sounds drunk. Geto swerves around the tip of his thumb all over your pussylips, just like he was stirrinâ around his cock by now.Â
Circle after circle. Prodding into hidden spots you didnât even realize were there- he then catches the slightly pouty curve of your mouth and coos. âAwww, whatâs the matter, baby- fuck.â In response you only clamp down on him, the textured ridges of his shaft so sensational that it leaves your mouth ajar. His lip curls, âOh, I get it.â
âH-huh?â
Just then he leans over, and it leaves his curvaceous tip poking in even deeper. Melting his sweaty abs on top to the back of your spine, Geto purses his lips and spits. Straight into your mouth, then he smiles all handsomely like heâd just done you a favor.
You look at him with bulging eyes. Heâd read your mind.Â
âFuck, youâre getting even w-wetter.â Heâs sputtering out- fucking up into you. Chasing your pussy. Every hard thrust of his left you shoved forwards a few inches, and Getoâs reeling you back in just so he wonât lose you.
Just so the feeling of your pulsing, velvety walls wonât be lost- soon enough, heâs wrapping his beefy left hand over your neck to hold you in a headlock. âGonna hafta give me a show- we can do that, ngh, canât we, gorgeous? Gonna drive me wiiiild w-with that pussy, huh?â
âO-oh my god-â youâre blabbering out. A sparkly sheen of saliva forming down his forearm, trickling from the front of your mouth. âI think youâre doing the- driving wild- oh.â
You could barely even string together the sentences.
Your entire body twitches at the sudden change in angle; with him bent over and leaning his weight into you like this, you felt like you were being crushed in the best ways. Getoâs constant pummeling reaches deep into the back spots of your cervix, leaving a cute lilâ bruise of his circumference.Â
He kisses the side of your head sloppily- and youâre realizing that Geto had forgotten to take off one of his silver chains. Or maybe he didnât want to. Because there was just the rhythmic, cold bang-bang-bang of his jewellery that was greeting the back of your neck in time with his furious ruts.Â
All the way from his hard, globular tip nâ dooooown to where his shaft was the thickest. His drilling pace left your plush insides being all straightened out on his length. His girth.Â
Just fucking you like an animal.
You can feel your head start to slowly tip forwards, too heavy and filled with cotton. But Geto would never let you get off that easy, âHey, heyâlook at me.â Pulling you back in with his headlock.
Getoâs tone was firm, he meant it.Â
You struggle to blink your lids open properly, all sticky with the residue of your tears. Yet once you look at him, you can still make out the sultry twinkle in his eyes.Â
He lifts his right hand up to your bleary line of vision, âYou see this?â And you have to take a few seconds to note that heâs talking about that tattoo that slithers across his entire arm - a snake. With its fanged maw wide open where his thumb separated from the rest of his fingers, âMmm, nice, huh?â
Absent-mindedly, you nod.
Thatâs when you register whatâs happening - the snake. With its mouth wiiiide open, creeps down to your pussy, and heâs cupping your delicate folds. Almost as if to swallow. As if to strike.Â
Getoâs pounding you into the expensive backseat of his car like heâs devouring you. Pinpointing each nâ every leaking crevice with his buttery precum, letting the mound of his palm slide back and forth down your slit.Â
You gush out a wet splatter! of syrup straight into his palm and he grins, âReally- oh, ya really are drivinâ me wild, baby. Look into my eyes now.â
He wanted to stare away into your beautiful, stupidly dilated eyes as he mazes his entire length inside you. The forefront of his piercing acting like a searchlight, you can feel the exact moment that Geto smears apart your walls nâ precisely bashes your g-spot.
âS-so unfair that you have a- hck!â You canât even finish your sentence. Youâre choking on so many whines nâ copious amounts of drool that wash down the front of your chin like a fountain.Â
Geto himself finds it adorable how youâre cockdrunk already. And it almost feels like that night at the party when he leans in, parched tongue licking up your web of drool - why waste it? âI donât hear her complaining.â
âM-maybe she is-â You insist back stubbornly, just for something to say.
And at that very moment, one of Getoâs long fingers extends so that he can drag them down the dribbling crevice of your pussy. The edge of his middle finger slide-slide-slides between your slit with the loudest, most primal slurp. âMmm, I donât think she is. Not when sheâs- ngh, singing fâme.â
His words are enough to make your eardrums pop at the filth - but then again, so is the way he was driving his hips into you. Repeatedly, like a train. And so was the way the crowned tip of his ringed fingers start rolling over your clit.
You prattle out, just when he uses his large index to draw a heart on the very tip-top button of your nub. Just the pressure felt too good. âS-sooooo cockyââ
âDamn right nâ youâre full of it- literally.âÂ
Perhaps it was the way he said it - reminding you of the thick, solid inches that were filling you up - or perhaps it was his newly-drawn patterns on your clit, but youâre growing even wetter. Dripping in thick, glittering wads of slick that trickle down Getoâs own legs.
Feeling the sloppy wetness, heâs looking down- and then immediately grinning to himself. He whispers, âWonder if I canâŠâ
âWhat are you-â
âShhh, told you tonight was all about- hah, fuuuuck- you, my muse.â
Oh, you donât know how well that boded for your poor pussy. Or your walking abilities for at least the next week.Â
In a mere few nanoseconds, Geto has his hips churning out an interesting angular cadence. Not only was he pumping his red, swollen cock into you- he was also shiftinâ his hips in grinding movements so that the edge of his Prince Albertâs piercing would swab its way âround and round.
Sticking his glazed tip into each spot, the icy circle of his piercing was just driving you wild. Making your toes curl and your feet anchor- almost in an effort to runâ
âAh ah-â Only for him to pull you back in with his constraining headlock, flexing so that his sexy biceps are squeezing your neck even tighter. âWeâre getting- ngh, doooown and dirty, girl. Donât run.â Then heâs repeating the scrape-scrape of his decorated crown down your walls, red nâ rude.Â
âF-fuck, could you feel that, gorgeous?â Getoâs voice breaks at some point, after a particularly drawn-out drag of his rovering tip. And he has the audacity to giggle, âThat one was a heart.â
Your eyes snap open, mouth plummeting out a low- âOh, fuck.â
Because Geto wasnât just fucking you with his pierced cockhead anymore; he was using that orb at the beginning of his slit to draw on you. Right at the very end of your sponged cervix, in ravenous strokes, he was buttering you up. Painting you.
Next, he glissades a swooping motion that makes his veins push up against your roof. Uttering a low hiss, âMmm- my- hah, my nameâs a bit harderâŠâ
âL-let me help.â
And that makes Getoâs heart skip a beat.
He slides his hand up nâ down your slit, prodding at your clit lovingly. âO-of course, my muse.â Letting you push backwards in a figure-eight, until his dark happy trail was rubbing your ass cheeks raw. âHarder-â A vulgar spank to your ass. âHarder. Show me how you can d-do it.â
âMâgoing- ngh, fuck. Wanâ more, Suguru.â
Anything you say. Anything you do- fuck, he almost thinks he could cum right here, right now. Thatâs why heâs instead focusing his attention on manhandling your body back in ruts, to hit his massive girth with such rough recoil.
Again. And again. And again and againâ
Until youâre feeling his pulsing mushroom tip glue up against your womb, carving along a whalloping bruise. And you swear - with whatever frenzied brain cells were left within your skull - it formulates the zig-zagging motion of an âSâ
âAnd thaaaaat was my n-name.â
Maybe he got lucky. Maybe he was just that good.
Sobbing, âF-fuck!â You donât get to find out whether heâs able to finish off the rest of his name - whether that was even possible - because immediately youâre bucking back nâ forth. âOh my god- i-itâs almost- ngh, too much.â That lecherous action sending sparks of pleasure to your brain. Having him try nâ claim the very back spots of your pussy. Those hidden crevices.Â
âEasy, eeeeasy there, baby. What did I sayâdonât run.â Pulling you back with his headlock, âDonât make me- ngh, choke you like that- gorgeous-â Even though he already was.
Youâre getting easily dumbified as he repeats those movements a few more times. Needily moving faster to chase those sparks heâd erupted before, âPlease- please want it- ngh, close-â
âNice try.â Body so weak that he was the one predominantly in control now. Heâs matching your pace- surpassing it, all with a thumb that tweaks your clit until you see white. That snake. Maw ajar. âBut youâre the one thatâs gonna, mmm, cum first.â
You whine. Geto was just so mean- was he always this mean? Because he surely was fucking you like it; now three different points of pleasure. From your throbbing clit, to your g-spot being massaged by his decorative veins, then that lewd lilâ pattern he drew at the back of your cervix. So much. Too much.Â
Youâre so close that youâre slobbering out in waves at this point, and he has his mouth slipped to the side to lick up any nâ every sap you were leaking.Â
Pierced tongue slimily slithering allll the way down the side of your lips, you mewl. So filthy. âFuck- y-youâre right-â His blushing red tip twitches at those words. âMâgonna- gonnaâŠâ
You canât even finish your sentence.Â
With a few more sinful strokes, youâre falling apart on his creamy cock. Letting the heatwave of your high take over you- you throw your head back, resting upon Getoâs collarbone, toes curled, mouth shrilling out his name.Â
After each and every sloppy drag of his vein-covered cock, he was fucking you through your high so perfectly. The frigid tip of his piercing pushinâ into your g-spot, that makes you last even longer.
Even more.Â
And Geto himself was just as drunk on your pussy- âF-fuck, mâgonna cum.â He moans, tonality hollow in a way that made him sound so wrecked. Just then, youâre feeling something warm and gooey fill up the nooks and crannies of your cunt.
Webbing you up from the inside. It sticks to you like a second skin and heâs overfilling you to the point where you can feel a sheen of white drip down the insides of your thighs. Gluing them together. âShit- donât even have enough, ngh, space.â
âOh, you will.â Through labored pants, Geto looks down where you were taking him - and he doesnât think heâs seen a more heavenly sight. With your damp folds glazed in ivory, glistening after each pump of his hips. Itâs forming a ring around his bulky base, soaking his happy trail.
He smears the droplets of cum that are part of the spillage, layering them onto the padded top of his thumb. Then, immediately, you gasp as you feel the stretch of him pushing those knots back inside. âListen to that-â The loudest wet noises. âWonder if Iâll be able to hah- sing as good as that at my next concert, hm?â
âShut up.â
Geto doesnât stop just yet.Â
Not until his ravaged, red cock feels rawâoversensitive. Not until heâs properly fucked you through the hazy peaks of your high and youâre left merely trembling. Not until heâs squirted every ounce of pure white cum inside you, nâ you canât do anything but perk your hips up from the seat and take it. Take it.Â
He has tears in his eyes by now. The rockstar pulls back his hand from your clit after you start wriggling with overstimulation.Â
And then makes sure you watch - make sure you can see his looooong, pink tongue slither out to suck up every sullied dewdrop of slick and cum from his digits. From his rings. Lastly, he slaps his cleaned, moisturized fingers against your ass. Groping.Â
âI could write albums about that, gorgeous.â You still havenât gained the ability to speak since being completely dumbified.Â
And Geto sets you free from that headlock, finally. Youâre dropping to the plushness of his car seat like youâre boneless, barely even able to look up as he seethes. Through labored pants, he smiles, âSoâŠstill wanna go back to my house so we can meddle about?â
Not even pulling out of you yet.
He throbs from the inside. Plump nâ probing. Awaiting your answer- you start to wonder whether heâll be able to write out the entirety of his name on your cervix.
âFuck yeah.â
.
.
.
It was no surprise that Meddle About topped the charts. All of them.
Someone had recorded it back at its debut concert, to which it had gone viral overnight. Then came the record deals, the studio sessions, and the official album launch (of which Geto claimed that all those love songs were about you.)
And it was also no surprise that that was what launched the Sorcerers from being a regionally famous band, frequenting the local bars and gigs, to being internationally-known. To touring all âround the world.Â
But what did come as a slight surprise - a pleasant one - was when heâd asked you to join him.
Somehow, some part of you had imagined that once Geto got a taste of the high life, the fame, the music, the travel; that meant heâd simply indulge in it. Without you. Without even a thought of you - little did you know that you were all Geto Suguru could think about.
Seriously. It did endearingly irritate his bandmates.Â
So when Geto asked you to join him, after some arrangements with your life back at home, youâd said yes. Of course.
And then there was another surprise. At the very first concert that youâd attended with him- and then for each one thereafter (it grew to be a little tradition, you see) there was thisâŠ
âAnd tonight- I have someone very special in the crowd for me- yes, Satoru, sheâs here for me, not for you.â The crowd buzzes, peering over each otherâs heads for a glimpse of another collaboration act, perhaps. Some even waited for one of the band members to stage dive.Â
But what happens is that Geto Suguru - rockstar, worldwide heartthrob, lead guitarist of the Sorcerers - smiles. A slow, soft smile that they donât think theyâve ever seen on him before, not this sort.Â
And heâs pointing somewhere to the VIP seats, the closest ones at the very front row. Where there was you; you could feel the stares now. The whispers. The phones recording. Surely, this was about to end up on just about ten different social medias- just when you had gotten used to the campus teasing. This was about tens of thousands of more eyes. Honestly, having a rockstar boyfriend was not for the weak.
But he did make it so easy. So, so easy.
Geto continues on, a gentle chuckle leaving his mouth at the way you squirm under the spotlight. He says your name, âMy muse, my lover. I love you. This oneâs for you, just as they all are.âÂ
Thereâs a tumultuous wave of âawwâsâ that ring out, and screams, perhaps a few faints.
reader is childhood friends with tsukki, and has an ongoing bit where she'll ask him out periodically. she's grown used to him saying no, and doesn't expect it when he actually says yes.
You would easily consider Tsukishima Kei your closest friend. You grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and were in the same class on multiple occasions, so your frequent proximity had forced the two of you to become very familiar with one another. Though he had a personality that others may find sour, knowing him for so long meant that you had seen every version of him, and knew that there was more to him than the reputation that he had gained. Sure, he was arrogant and standoffish a vast majority of the time, but you knew that he was also kind and considerate towards those he cared about.Â
You didn't think that it was possible to gain feelings for a friend so close to you, but over the years you couldn't help but find yourself growing more and more intrigued with the idea of being in a relationship with your best friend. You cherished the friendship that the two of you had, but you couldn't help but wish that it could blossom into something more. Even as a child, you knew you wanted to make a move, but were held back by the fear that he would take it negatively, and you would lose a friend that meant the world to you. Sure, you both had other friends outside of each other, but a life without Tsukishima Kei by your side was not something you wanted to risk.Â
The first time you asked him out was a joke to test the waters. The situation had been perfectly laid out for you, so you figured you might as well give it an attempt.Â
At twelve years old, you, Tsukki, and your deskmates sat chatting about how White Day was approaching, with some members of the conversation more enthusiastic than others. One boy excitedly announced that he had started dating another girl in the class, and was planning on surprising her with candy on the special day. One by one, each of the boys rattled off who they wanted to give a present on the holiday, while the girls helped pitch ideas on how they could make their surprises even better.Â
"Who are you getting a present for, Tsukishima?" a voice sounded next to you, a bright eyed girl addressing the one member of the circle who had not made a contribution.Â
Tsukki stared blankly at her, before shaking his head, "No one, I don't have a girlfriend."Â
The boy seated next to him accusingly pointed a finger in his direction. "There's gotta be someone you want to get a gift for. It's White Day, this is your chance to get one!"Â
Your best friend scoffed, folding his arms in defiance. "It's a made up holiday, and a girlfriend right now would be a waste of time and money. Why would I buy chocolates for someone I don't have any interest in?"Â
Sounds of protest came from everyone sitting at the table. Upon hearing his thoughts, you supposed that should have been a clear enough answer to whether or not he had an interest in anyone, but you couldn't help but think that he was only staying quiet because you were present at the table. While somewhat disappointed, you knew that this was your chance to prod him further and get a more concrete answer.
"Date me, I'm your best friend and I'll gladly take the chocolates," you half-joked, trying to play it off as cool as a twelve year old possibly could.
Your answer came quickly, not in the form of an answer, but in the ease of him brushing you off, not even considering the possibility that you could genuinely mean what you had just said.Â
"I'm not getting anything for anyone, find someone else to buy your chocolates."Â
Following that conversation, it had been a whole year before you took another chance at proposing the idea of a relationship, fearing that you would be shot down once again. It was a similar situation; the environment had given you the chance to casually slide the idea into the conversation, and you couldn't give up the opportunity.Â
You and now-thirteen-year-old Tsukishima Kei stood in a convenience store on your way home from school, picking out snacks after you had spent a long day with your clubs at school. You were in the art club and had to take home a painting that you had done on a disproportionately large canvas. As you decided you wanted a barbecue pork bun, Tsukki picked yours up on your behalf, seeing as your hands were fully occupied with your artwork. Standing at the till, he gave the payment to the store owner, an elderly man with a strong gaze, and took the bag that was handed to him in return.Â
"Young man, why don't you give the food to your girlfriend and carry that massive painting for her instead?" the elderly man chimed as the two of you began to pull away from the counter.Â
Both your eyes widened, and you could see that the taller boy's cheeks had gone slightly red at being criticized by the man before you, along with the realization that you had been incorrectly identified as his girlfriend. He opened his mouth in protest, but the store owner gave him a pointed look, forcing him to place the bag back on the counter and take the painting from your arms. A large grin broke out on your face as you picked up the buns and gave the man a toothy smile while the two of you gave him a small bow before exiting the store.Â
"That's more like it," you heard the owner's voice carry from behind you as the doors to exit the store chimed while you walked into the evening air.Â
The second you were out of earshot of the man, you broke out into laughter, immediately turning to the boy who had turned an even deeper shade of red.Â
"Hear that Kei? Carry the massive painting for your girlfriend," you mocked, taking your bun out of the bag and taking a bite, ensuring to make a grand show of the amount of freedom your arms had in that moment.Â
"Tsk," was the only response heard from the boy as he turned his face away from you to try and hide the red that was slowly disappearing from his cheeks.Â
"I say we should start dating so that you can become my personal artwork carrier," you quipped as you skipped ahead of him along your path.Â
"Never going to happen," his voice sounded from behind you, unamused.Â
"Go out with me!" you called back, continuing to skip ahead of him.Â
"No."Â
That incident had begun the joke that ran between the two of you. You would ask him out, and he would respond with some form of deadpan denial. Your friends had grown accustomed to it, expecting you to make the joke from time to time. On the days you spent with both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the shorter boy would even occasionally play along.Â
"What in the world is that poster for?" you asked one day, noting an obnoxiously coloured poster stuck to a pole near the corner where you and Tsukishima split off from Yamaguchi on your paths home.Â
"A couples dancing competition," the green haired boy read off with a laugh.Â
"I wonder what the turnout would be, based on how ugly that poster is," your best friend commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the image before the three of you.Â
"The two of you should sign up," Yamaguchi responded jokingly, matching the smile that was growing across your face, "It would be a sight."Â
"You're so right, both of our incredibly above average dancing skills would blow the competition away," you joked, "the only thing we're missing is being an actual couple."Â
"I'm not going out with you."Â
"It was worth a shot."Â
As you grew older, the two of you continued to remain best friends. You had shared sentiments over schoolwork, had jokes shared between each other, and you knew the ins-and-outs of each others' lives. You were closer than ever, but the fact that you two had only grown closer meant that it hurt even more that the two of you wouldn't be anything more than friends. As far as you were concerned, he only thought of you as a cherished friend, and all the times you had asked him out were nothing more than a gimmick resulting from a comfort level obtained from your level of friendship. You loved having him as a friend, but as you grew older and more mature, your feelings grew with you, and your childhood crush developed into infatuation with the boy living down the street.Â
When high school came around, you both joined Karasuno together, acknowledging that it made sense for you to attend the same school once again. After the incident when you were thirteen, he had formed a habit of helping you carry your larger paintings on the walk home, and in turn you feigned some interest in the volleyball club, hearing what he and Yamaguchi had to say about their matches.Â
When the boys volleyball team qualified for the finals of their tournament, you joined your school in supporting your two friends as they faced the top school in the prefecture. You were one of many loud voices cheering the boys on, though you liked to believe that amongst them all, you were cheering the loudest. When Tsukishima made the first block against the opposing ace, you felt a burning pride to see the boy you liked finally begin to show some emotion on the court, your excitement visible from the stands.Â
Though you didn't understand the game well, it had you on your toes; everything that took place was crucial to the boys' success in the game. So encapsulated by the gameplay, and cheering on the series of blocks that Tsukki had done only moments before, you were confused when murmurs started to pass through the crowd and the players began to crowd around the tall blonde. It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was injured and was gripping his hand while the others spoke to him. Concerned, you left your spot amongst your classmates and approached his brother, who had a matching look of concern etched upon his face.Â
"Akiteru, did you see what happened? Is Kei injured?" you questioned, standing next to the older Tsukishima brother.Â
"I hope not," he muttered back, eyes carefully watching what was going on below.Â
You both watched intently as your friend wrapped a towel around his hand and began to walk towards the gymnasium exit.
"C'mon, let's go see what happened," he stated, as you both left the stands along with the first-year Karasuno manager to go meet his younger brother. Walking down the steps you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of all of you, and you tried to shake it off so that the injured boy would not sense it too. The three of you met him outside the doors of the gym.Â
"Kei, are you okay?" you asked, somewhat redundantly; of course he wasn't 'okay' if he was leaving the game because of an injury.Â
"I'm fine," he quipped back, trying to act more nonchalant than you could tell he felt inside. You observed your friend as he had a back and forth with his brother over his physical state. He commented on how it was nice to rest after all the sets- you could tell that there was some truth to the statement, but you could also see that he had finally found his groove, and really wanted to be back in the game. As he began to walk away, you could see the frustration emanating from his stance, and you and his brother decided to follow him and the older manager to the infirmary.
You ran up to catch him, and walked alongside Tsukki, Kiyoko and Akiteru. You walked in silence, knowing that the middle blocker was busy ruminating on the events of the game, and could only think of getting back on the court, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. As the four of you arrived at the infirmary, you sat beside him and the two others stood near the door behind you while the nurse took a look at his hand. You could tell that he was scared that the nurse would announce his hand was too severely injured and he would have to sit out the remainder of the match.Â
To try and ease some of the nerves that he would be feeling, you grabbed his non-injured hand and gave it a small squeeze.Â
"I'm sure it's fine and you'll be back soon," you whispered so that only he could clearly hear, "and once you get back, you'll win the game and go to nationals."Â
You gave him a small encouraging smile, finally meeting his eyes, and for a few moments the boy did nothing but stare back at you.Â
After a short pause he finally responded with a nod, "I hope so," before dropping his eyes as the nurse analyzed and dressed his wounds. The remainder of the visit, you four sat in silence, the volleyball player evidently deep in thought over what he would do when he returned to the match, however his eyes occasionally fluttered away, as if something were distracting him.
Soon, his finger had been wrapped and immobilized, and the nurse announced that he would be allowed to return to the game. The four of you sprung up, and began jogging back to the gym, Tsukki slightly out-pacing the rest of you. You and Akiteru stood by the doors as the other two ran to the coach to explain his condition and request that he be put back in the game. You and the other Tsukishima brother ran back up to the stands to watch upon seeing him take a seat on the bench, the substitution card in his hand.Â
You watched as the remainder of the match unfolded, Tsukki back on the floor, knowing that he was still in pain though he tried to hide it. You didn't think it was possible, but you were even more captivated by the game in front of you, every movement drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your seat, more and more in awe of your best friendâs tenacity. When the final point was scored and Karasuno were announced as the winners, you jumped out of your seat, cheers and hollers all around you as your entire section cheered on the victory of your school's team.Â
The victory party had begun, with Karasuno staff and students overjoyed alike, excitement filling the air. The team bowed to your cheering section, and you let out more cheers to your two friends before you. You first made eye contact with Yamaguchi, who had found you in the crowd sooner and you gave him a smile and a thumbs up to show your congratulations. Noticing his teammate's line of vision, your best friend found you as well and you beamed even more, changing your thumbs up into a heart that you made with both your hands. You could almost hear the half-laugh, half-scoff that came from the boy as he immediately turned away from your antics. You couldn't help but laugh as well when you turned away from your seat and started to join the crowd that had begun to trickle out of the stands.Â
When everyone had finished mingling in the lobby, you excused yourself from your other friends to go greet the volleyball players who were dispersed outside the gym. You easily spotted the blond head of hair that stood taller and slightly apart from his teammates, the green-haired boy nowhere in sight.Â
You decided that the best course of action to get his attention was to launch yourself at his back. So you did, and he let out a yelp as he caught you behind him, a small exasperated laugh being let out. You let go of him and gave him a proper hug, but from the front, despite his protests.Â
"What did I say, go back soon, win the game, go to nationals," you said matter-of-factly, pointing a joking finger in his face once you had finally freed him of the hug, "I think I can see the future."
"I mean we were already so close to winning, the prediction was right in your face," the boy responded sassily, obviously trying to get back at your outrageous remark.Â
"I don't know, I think I have a gift," you continued joking, "I'll show up to all of the nationals games and start predicting who's going to win, just you wait and see."Â
"There are too many games going on, you'd never go to them all," the boy responded, trying to shut down your new aspirations.Â
"No, I'll do it, just you wait and see. I'll go to all of yours too, up until you win it all."Â
"You'd look like a stalker, the crazy fan of Karasuno who won't leave us alone."Â
"Hmm... no," you responded back, "The best course of action is for us to start dating because then I would no longer be a crazed fan and instead a loyal girlfriend there to support my boyfriend."Â
"Mhm okay."Â
"And then if anyone asks I could just say that I... wait did you just say okay?"Â
You had continued on your rambling, so focused on the dumb situation that you had thought up, that you had completely failed to notice the boy's response, or the way that he had been looking at you since the moment you had met him outside the gym.Â
He now stood, smiling smugly at you, and you realized that while you had been going on and on, he had been looking down at you, a newfound admiration on his face. You couldn't say when exactly the change had been made, but you realized now that he was looking at you in a way that he had never once before, and you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach.Â
"I did say okay," he stated plainly, placing a hand on the top of your head, making light of the fact that he towered over you.Â
You were speechless and could do nothing but stare back at him in confusion.Â
"After all this time, did you want me to say no again?" he asked, when almost a whole minute passed without a response from you.Â
"NO, no not at all," you said finally, accepting that he wasn't just messing with you and actually meant it, "it just caught me off guard."Â
The boy removed his hand from your head and smiled once again, less smug this time.Â
"Okay, so now I'm expecting you to show up to all our games at nationals and be the supportive girlfriend cheering me on constantly."Â
"Girlfriend already?" you retorted, once again taking his non-injured hand in yours, the difference being that now he held it as well, the feelings no longer one sided, "What happened to taking a girl out on a few dates before claiming that title?"Â
"Did you really ask me out all those times just to not even want to be called my girlfriend?" he asked back, eyes narrowing in disbelief at the comment that you just made.Â
"Nevermind, girlfriend it is."Â
Bonus:
A week had passed since the volleyball team had won the game against Shiratorizawa. The boys had been busy following the win, so you finally had a moment to treat both your friends to a congratulatory dinner. The three of you walked in the direction of the restaurant on a Sunday, with you standing in between your two friends. You passed a hideous poster, identical to the one that the three of you had previously joked about.Â
"Now that we've mastered volleyball, I think it's time for you two to take up dancing seriously," Yamaguchi smiled, recalling the previous joke that you had made over the poster.Â
"I wholeheartedly agree," you said back, "this time we even meet the couple criteria."Â
Yamaguchi stopped walking, turning to look at the two of you. You innocently looped your arm into Tsukki's, though your boyfriend stood still, no reaction evident on his face or through his body language.Â
A few seconds passed before Yamaguchi unfroze and continued walking, a smile now plastered on his face.Â
"Congratulations," was all he said at first, before he finished his train of thought, "but it was really about time."Â
Summary - You bribe your best friend Satoru Gojo with Digimon Merch into pretending to date you for your sister's wedding. In order to get your parents off your back about being a loner, you feel they'd buy it - you've been friends forever, after all. You all go full out, fake kisses, and sharing a bed - problem is that you both have feelings that are far too real.
Warnings - fluffy and cute, idiots in love, thigh riding, a fk ton of sexual tension, Toru being sweet, nerdjo mention. Oral ( f receiving) reader is a virgin, so first time with Toru (yay!) girl on top hehe, fingering, teasing, creampie, multiple orgasms, talking you through it -happy end of course! Oneshot - wc- 13k
This won the poll for the 25k event! thank you all so much for following me and being so amazing <3 got a girl blushing!
âCome on, please?â You tug at Satoru Gojoâs dark blue jacket, pouting up at him, he just rolls his pretty blue eyes.
âDonât you make that face, I wonât give in this time.â
âIâll buy you so much Digimon merch!â He scoffs, shaking his head. âToru!â
âDonât you âToruâ me,â he crosses his arms, leaning back in the seat â the two of you are in a little cafe together, the one you meet up at once a month. It used to be once a week, but life has gotten ahold of you all pretty good, now that you are twenty three and out of college, both so busy itâs hard.Â
Satoruâs been your best friend for as long as you can remember, and you never want to lose him.
âToruâŠâ
âStop using that to your advantage,â he looks at you again, pouting with those glossy lips of his. âYou know I always do anything when you give the puppy eyes.â
âPretty please,â you bat your lashes, so cute Satoru canât say no. He was going to relent anyway, but he loves to get you going.
âOh fine.â
âYay!â You hug him tightly, that way you always do that makes it difficult to hug you back, youâre too close, pressed against him, making him feel too much.
Satoruâs been close to you forever, he canât lose you because youâre just so pretty, you smell so good. Canât lose you because your touch makes him ache more and more over the years. All of that, bad ideas, especially when youâre one of the closest people to him. His hand comes to the small of your back, inhaling the sweetness of your shampoo, letting it fill his senses.
âAre you sniffing me?â
âHuh, what? No.â Satoru so was, you pull back and giggle all cute, eyes lit up when you kiss his cheek. His hands tense, shoving you playfully. âYuck.â
âOh what, I still have cooties?â You raise a brow at him, he shivers in feigned disgust.
âWorse than ever now.â
âPsh,â you sip your drink, his thigh is brushing against yours, and you donât move away like you should. Satoruâs body feels far too good against yours.
Your parents seem to think youâre hopeless, since you really havenât ever dated, but how can you, when Satoru exists? Itâs a hopeless state of affairs, loving someone youâre so close to, literally in the damn sandbox together. Even if you crossed that line â Satoruâs never shown any interest.
How embarrassing would that be?
âMaybe it will be fun, you think of that?â You tease, trying to feign a little more ease than you have.
âYou just wanna lay in bed with me,â Satoru brushes his hair back and winks, grinning when you glare at him. âAdmit it.â
âYeah, never happening - but we will have to share the room to make it believable for sure.â
âAre they really on your case that bad?â You wrap your lips around your straw, addling Satoruâs senses so badly he canât even look at you.
The feelings just grow more and more, and pretending to date you would just make him want what he shouldnât. âThey are on my case, they think Iâm just wasting away and gonna be a cat lady.â
âYou do give cat lady energy.â
âHey!â
Heâs chuckling now, sipping on his own drink, you watch how the sunlight filters in through the window, casting shadows across the hard planes of his face.
Sometimes Satoru is just too handsome for his own good.
âDid you hear me?â He waves a hand in front of your face, and you realize you spaced out looking at his lips too long.
âSorry, what?â
âHow much Digimon merch?â You laugh, shaking your head just a bit.
âHowever much you want, but youâll have to be very convincing, youâll have to kiss me and everything,â you tease, smacking your lips at him, he tenses a bit then, picturing his lips all over his best friend. âWill it be that bad?â
âThe worst,â his voice is soft, hoarse with desire that he almost lets spill from his lips. âBet you suck at it.â
âBet Iâm better than you,â you lean close, far too close, a hand on his chest then, looking up at him under your lashes, his heart races just a bit even as he puts on a casual smirk. âWanna practice?â
âIâll require so much merch, in fact youâll have to come to the con with me â all dressed up as one â if you want a kiss before I have to.â
âYouâre so bratty, Satoru Gojo,â he exhales when you pull back, realizing heâs now throbbing under his damn jeans in a coffee shop with his best friend. âFine, weâll wait until we have to.â
âWeâre staying three days, right?â
âYes, mom and dad love you anyway.â
âHow will you break it to them when they find out itâs not real?â You wrack your brain, sighing then.
âIâll think of something, but at least for this wedding, I'll be in your debt forever.â
âThatâs tempting, I canât wait to take advantage.â You both laugh, and Satoru tries to figure out just how heâs going to handle âpretendingâ with you.Â
*****
âIâm never letting you drive again.â
âI wasnât that bad!â Satoru pouts at you, damn near running out of the car when you all step out.
âHorrible, god howâd you get a licence,â you glare, and he snatches your keys up, holding them high. âHah! Canât reach?â
âWho can, you giant!â Youâre hopping while he laughs, but then your tits just bounce too much, so he falters, letting you tug his arm down. âGot 'em!â
Satoru tries not to focus on that, quickly looking away and rubbing the back of his neck, the last thing he needs to do is let his gaze linger longer than it should. âYou really almost killed me, Iâm driving back.â
âThatâs fine, eight hours sucked anyway,â you stretch just a bit, and so does he, turning and avoiding how your shirt lifts just a bit. âAre you ready for this?â
You walk up next to him, heâs snatched up your bags on one shoulder, you hold his other hand, feeling it tense in your grip. He pauses, looking down at you then, gripping your hand just a little tighter, memories flashing of all the times heâd snatched your hand and run out of class when you were younger. Why does it feel so different now that youâre both older?
âMake it look real, remember? I have the merch all picked out,â you wave your phone around just a bit, earning him squeezing your hands just a bit. âThere you go, we got this yeah?â
âYeahâŠâ You both walk up and are greeted with your very surprised parents, the house just full of your entire family, all bustling and fussing over your sister and all the planning. âHey there.â
âSatoru Gojo!â Your mom tugs him in for a hug, your dad snatches the bags and sets them down in the living room. âLook at you, youâre taller!?â
âI know,â he laughs a bit, slipping up his black shades to rest on those snowy locks, while your dad hugs him too. âHey pops. Ah, hey sis.â
Your sister comes out, hugging you tightly, then peeking over at Satoru. âGojo, you finally admitted youâre in love huh?â
âWhat!?â He pulls back, your dad and mom are laughing behind their hands, and you mouth to Satoru silently.
Remember!?
Digimon!
âOh, hah â yeah I guess we really have been in love,â he snatches you up, arm wrapping around your shoulders, smacking a kiss on your cheek. He feels it warm under his lips quickly, the little breath catching in his ears. âArenât we, pookie?â
Pookie, huh?
You wanna laugh at that, but you instead put a hand on his chest and tiptoe, giving him a kiss on his chin. You wonder if youâre imagining the blush that decorates his cheeks for just a moment, but itâs distracted by all the commotion.
âYouâre finally dating someone!â
âMom!?â
âIâm just so happy baby,â you want to fall into a hole, as aunts, uncles and cousins all come to just express their surprise. Satoruâs snickering so you decide to âaccidentallyâ stomp his foot, earning your six foot four friend hopping one one foot.
âOops, sorry baby.â Satoruâs so gonna get revenge later on you, with your bratty little smile.
âItâs fine, sweet sugar bear!â You almost snort out loud, he smacks a kiss on your cheek and damn near slobbers on you.
Itâs a flurry of action while everyone sinks their teeth into Satoru and you, all nosy and curious, many of them making comments like youâre an old maid when youâre still young. Your family is a little too traditional, and theyâre all in love with Satoru so much youâre damn near ignored, he eats up the attention like he always does at these sort of things.
You canât say anything about it, Satoruâs parents have been so distant his entire life, you actually love that your family is so close to him.
âDo you wanna freshen up before dinner?â Your mom asks, you nod gratefully. âPerfect, we set up a room for you two.â
âUm⊠one room?â You ask, seeing Satoru chuckling, slinging an arm around your neck.
âShow us the room, mama.â
âOf course Toru!â You roll your eyes a bit, no one loves Satoru as much as your mom does â aside from you.
But you canât admit that.
A part of you starts enjoying just how easy it would be to make this a part of your life, at least this aspect, your family, and likely all of your friends. Yet you know fully that itâs a bit of a show, yet it makes your mind drift off â imagining too much, so much so you almost bump right into his back when you all come to a stop in front of the stairs.
âOof!â
âClumsy,â he teases, catching you before you tumble back with ease, one arm shooting up and wrapping around you. âClumsy little pookiekins.â
Oh jesus.
Does he have to feel this good?
Your mom leads you up the stairs, their new house is still a little unfamiliar, youâve only been there a couple of times since they moved. Itâs a pretty room youâve slept in before when you stayed, cream colored walls and perfectly clean, even the little throw pillows are all arranged. âDo you need extra pillows, Satoru?â
âNo, thatâs perfect, I appreciate it.â Your mom doesnât ask you if you need anything, but then sheâs always loved Satoru â you joke that itâs more than she loves you all the time.
âThe shower is right in there,â she points to where the room connects to a little bathroom. âGet washed up for dinner, Iâm ordering your favorite Satoru.â
âUm, hi? What about me?â Satoru is snorting practically.
âHoney, you know Iâm just excited, I havenât seen Satoru in a year!â
âI see how it is.â You narrow your eyes, earning your mom kissing you on the cheek.
âI will order your favorite dessert.â
âIâm an afterthought.â She laughs and shuts the door, leaving the two of you alone, Satoru sobering up just a bit as he sits on the bed, you turn and look at him then, suddenly feeling so nervous.
Heâd spent plenty of nights on the floor or couch at your childhood home, but not in the same bed, taking it over when he lays down, crossing one ankle over the other. âNap time.â
âNap time, huh?â You sigh and scooch his big body over, lying down next to him, yawning just a bit when you snuggle against the pillow. âIâm tired too.â
âAre you?â You nod, eyes fluttering shut, leaving Satoru to study you carefully. âYou think they bought it?â
âWith ease,â you snuggle a little too close to him, making his heart race in his chest, fingers itching to caress your cheek. You look at him with sleepy eyes, breath right against him, tickling his neck. âThey were convinced I had a crush on you when we were younger, sis tortured me about it.â
âAww, thatâs because Iâm so pretty,â Satoru bats his long snowy lashes, you snort a bit, whacking him with one of the pillows. âWhat, not gonna admit it?â
âYouâre conceited is what you are,â he smacks you with a pillow hard then, you gasp, getting on your knees and whacking him back. âYouâre also the biggest brat to exist.â
âThatâs you! Hah, and youâre weak.â Satoru yanks the pillow from your grip, tossing it on the floor and then smacking you with one again. âCanât win against me, can you?â
âDonât count me out, ruining my nap!â You hop down on the floor, grabbing it and hitting him right in his pretty face. âIâll make your face prettier.â
âSwear to god-â You pounce on him, the bed springs creak just a bit, while you smack him again, only for him to yank you down and start tickling you. âHah, I know all your spots.â
âStop, stop!â Youâre trying to get out of his grip, the tickles on your waist too much, you canât stop laughing, wriggling until somehowâŠ
You land right on top of him.
Satoruâs laughing softly, before he realizes it, that youâre straddling his lap, thighs pressed on either side, and your heat is against him. Youâre still giggling, his fingers pausing then, looking down nervously and swallowing. âWhat is it, my turn?â
You lean over and begin to run your fingertips teasingly over his lower abdomen, heâs always ticklish there, but he just grips your hands in his hold, not making a sound. You blink a bit in confusion, breathless from the battle â one you both frequently had as kids â until you feel it.
You follow his suddenly intense gaze down, to where heâs pressed against you, hard and thickening by the moment, your breaths come even quicker, hands still in his grip as you feel him. Your eyes both lock then, his dilated in a way youâve never seen, lips parted just so, and itâs not like heâs ever looked at you.
You should get up, you should move right? Yet youâre stuck there, unable to do more than blink rapidly and open your lips to say something, anything at all, but both of you donât speak. The silly laughter has quit spilling from your lips, left with hot desire clenching your tummy at the sensation â at just how good Satoru feels against your cunt, aching for more.
You try not to roll your hips, you try not to shift, when he lets go of your wrists, and his hands slide down, across to your hips, an exhale escaping his mouth. You watch his chest rise and fall with his breaths, his fingers curling around the curve of each hip, and you realize youâre soaking wet embarrassingly fast.
âSatoru, Iâm sorryâŠâ You shift to move, earning a little moan from his throat, cock leaking pre against his boxers as his cock insistently nudges between your lips, just your panties as a barrier.
âFuck, donât⊠donât move,â he whispers then, you tense, struggling to just stay still. âYouâre making it worse.â
âMaking⊠what worse?â He sighs, leaning up on his elbows, your breaths both mingling together, in a way that makes you question everything.
Could Satoru feel the same?
He doesnât speak, instead he gently presses you down, watching your eyelashes flutter, your hands gripping his shirt so tightly the material is balling up in your grip. You move your hips just a bit, making him groan again, ever so softly, noses touching, foreheads resting together. You swallow, throat gone dry at what you feel, the nerves, the desire, the worry for ruining the most important relationship you have.
âToru, um- ah!â You jump when your sister just opens the fucking door, and you fall right off the bed with a thud since Satoru jumps too, like two kids caught.
âWe were⊠talking!?â Satoru covers his bulge with a pillow, and your sister just bursts out laughing, wearing a tiara and a sash that says bride to be.
âGet out!â You throw a pillow at her, knocking her tiara clean off, Satoru would laugh but heâs still throbbing and it fucking hurts.
How would he âpretendâ to kiss you!?
âRude, itâs my wedding you know.â
âWhy are you barging in?â
âI wanna see my sis and her pookie,â sheâs giggling, while you start shoving her out the door. âDonât you miss me?â
âNot really, annoying little sisters still suck, even when they get married.â She winks over at Satoru now, laughter still coming out and making you heat up in embarrassment.
âLooks like you two are next, I could feel the tension!â
âOut!â You shove her unceremoniously, resting your back and the door and huffing, youâre far too cute like that, and doing nothing for his situation. Your eyes meet his, before you look down a bit, pushing off the door to stand. âSorry, sheâs as much of a menace as ever.â
âShe certainly is,â he teases, smiling a bit at you and feigning ease. âUm⊠Iâm sorry thatâŠâ
âNo, no itâs cool, um⊠itâs just a normal reaction for a guy, right?â Youâre so clueless you wouldnât even know. âArenât you experienced?â
âCallinâ me a slut?â He raises a brow.
âNot a virgin, is all.â
âYouâre⊠are youâŠâ You blush furiously, this whole thing is more embarrassing every freaking second. âOh.â
âYeah, oh.â You sink down and cover your face, Satoru wills his damn cock to fully go down so he can get up, but heâs toxic and thinking of having you first.
Stop that, stop it, go down.
Down boy.
He finally just adjusts it up into his waistband and comes up to you, sitting right on the plush carpet and wrapping an arm around you. âWhy be embarrassed, whatâs wrong if youâre picky?â
âIâm twenty three, thatâs whatâs wrong,â you peek at him then, and he just looks too good in that moment, your body still throbbing from sitting on him. âIâm the forty year old virgin.â
âYou are not,â heâs snorting in laughter, playfully pulling you close, tilting two fingers under your chin. âI could fix that for you.â
You pause just a moment, lips parted, eyes wide.
âWhat!?â
âI was kidding,â he lets your chin go, before raising a brow. âUnless?â
âYouâre annoying!â He gets shoved away, laughing at himself like heâs just so funny, but all he does is embarrass you more, confuse you more.
What dumb idea was this?
âDo we need to practice kissing too?â
âIâve kissed, you know.â Why are Satoruâs lips so glossy?
âPlant one on me, rockstar,â he taps his lips with that annoying smirk of his. âDon't want the first to be in front of them, what if they know?â
âOh fine, you brat,â Satoru smooches his lips all dramatically, when you get on your knees, hands on his shoulders. âPucker up then.â
âI'm scared!?â You both laugh then, you've always been so comfortable with each other, until your lips land on his.
You both pull back, his hand slipping up your back. Your lips tingle, this little shock you can't explain, looking down at glossy lips. âThere, I kissed you.â
âYou did, a little peck. That's all you know?â
âYou're an ass,â he chuckles, trying to ease the tension, but you felt too good. âI can kiss.â
âLemme see, bet I'm better.â
âYou always think you're the best at everything,â you roll your eyes, then your little hands are on either side of his face, kissing him deeply. He exhales, tongue slipping against the seam of your lips, you damn near squeak, pulling back quickly with a gasp. âWhat're you doing?â
âKissing you,â he captures your lips again, hungry as he pours all of the desire he's had into it, tilting his head to the side to dive deeper. Youâre trembling, hands gripping in fists at your sides, struggling to collect yourself. Your tongue moves back against his, lashes fluttering shut, letting him drink up your little sighs.
His hand entangles in your hair, tongue dancing along your teeth, his taste so sweet itâs intoxicating. Slipping closer, a hand on his thigh, letting him overtake you completely, gripping his thigh and clinging for some sense of normalcy. Whatever youâve imagined this kiss would be like over the years couldnât have prepared you â your heart hammering, desire clenching your tummy.
He pulls back a bit, just as lost as you it seems, but only a moment â then itâs a little smirk and a raised brow. âMmm. That's how you kiss.â
âNot in front of people you don't,â you stare up at him, dazed, seeing a blush form on his own cheeks. âYou wanna have your tongue in my throat in front of them?â
âWhat!? No⊠I was showing you for⊠later.â
âLater.â
âMmm,â he brushes the air next to your cheek before he gets up quickly, clearing his throat. âI need um⊠a shower.â
âRight, go ahead,â he darts to the bathroom, leaving your legs trembling, your lips tingling from him. Just what was that!?
****
âSo, when did you two know you were in love?â Satoru almost spits out his drink the same time you do, simultaneously panicking and looking at each other.
âWe didnât figure out a story!â You whisper in his ear, trying to look like youâre being loving, a hand on his thigh driving him to insanity.
âWell, she confessed her love to me,â you scowl, Satoru holds your hand with a devious grin, keeping it on a well muscled thigh thatâs fucking your sense. âShe told me sheâd loved me since⊠letâs see, kindergarten!â
âCalled that,â your sister says, snuggling up to her fiance while she sips on champagne. âShe said you were - the cutest boy she ever- hey!?â
âThatâs quite enough,â you mumble, launching a little garlic knot at her head, Satoruâs snickering and itâs hard to pretend you donât wanna punch him. âSo yeah, kindergarten, but heâs the one who confessed first.â
âI did?â You stomp his foot, he hisses and scowls. âOh yeah, I did⊠I told her I love how mean she is.â
âThatâs an odd love confession,â your mom says, looking between you both with an amused expression. Satoru kicks you back under the table and you yelp. âAre you two⊠good?â
âSo good mom! Arenât we Toru?â You nuzzle his cheek but that little act makes his heart race, his stomach tense from just how good it feels. âAnswer.â
Your whisper reminds him of the goal here, he smiles and turns then, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, and the two of you freeze. Youâd practiced in the room, he was curious if it was the nerves of the first time together, but nothing felt like that, like the sweetness of your lips under his, eyes looking right at him in shock when he wraps an arm around you.
âAw!â Theyâre all cooing over you both, Satoru pulls back and you both fail to compose yourselves for just a moment, before Satoru grins.
âWe are good, arenât we pookie?â He murmurs, you shake yourself out of it, remembering what youâre doing here.
âYes, for sure. When is the rehearsal dinner?â You ask, looking at your sister now, who launches a garlic knot back at you. âHey!â
âYou started it,â you both stick your tongues out at each other. Satoru snatches the flung knot and pops it in his mouth, sighing.
âYummy.â
You giggle at that, but he licks the buttery garlic off his lips and fucks up your head instead. Youâre trembling just a bit at his tongue rushing across his lips, yeah it affected you before â youâve had it bad for Satoru for a long time, but now it was even worse than before.
âWant a bite, little shnookums?â Satoru teases, forking the spaghetti and swirling it around. You go to say no when he raises his brows.
âOh, of course pookiekins!â He snorts just a bit in laughter, but when your lips wrap it and you take it in your mouth?
Fuck.
You have just a little sauce on the corner of your lips â Satoru wipes it without thinking, making your eyes dart up to his contact. âYouâre messy, sugar shnookums.â
âThank you, pookie bear.â You murmur teasingly, ignoring how good his fingers feel on your face.
âOh you two are disgustingly in love,â your sister makes a face, Satoru just feeds you another fork full. âWhen are you gonna pop the question?â
âItâs new!?â You say in between bites â at this point Satoru is feeding you. Your aunt and uncle start going on and on about how much they love him â who doesnât love Satoru?
The plan is working perfectly, they arenât bothering you about dating someone, and they buy the friends to lovers story easily. Overall, itâs already a big success, which Satoru canât help but gloat about when you step into the room, wearing your pajamas, which are just a shirt of Satoruâs you stole and a little pair of shorts.
He pauses as you step out of that bathroom, running a brush through your hair, the lights soft from behind you, making your skin look that much prettier, every inch revealed where that shirt hits mid thigh glowing. Your nipples are pressed against the thin, soft material, he struggles to rip his eyes off them.
You canât get your eyes off him either, just wearing a pair of sweats with little digimon all over them and nothing else - chest bare. Youâre used to that, his chiseled frame and narrow torso, however right now it makes you press your thighs together just a bit, tension so thick in the air itâs hard to even breathe.
Act normal.
This isnât real.
âYou stole my shirt?â He breaks that silence, raising a thin brow at you, you manage an eye roll, heading over to the bed and lifting the cover.
âOf course I did,â it makes you feel close to him, god it smells like him. âI love your bougie ass shirts, so comfy.â
âTch,â you giggle, looking far too cute when you snuggle, and Satoru hesitates just a bit. âYou want me to sleep on the ground?â
âNo, no thatâd be so rude, we can share right?â He eyes the bed again, sighing at how narrow it is.
Heâd be pressed against you if he turned one wrong way.
Satoru slips in under the blankets next to you, laying on his back, studying your face carefully before flicking off the lamp on the bedside. âThink they bought it?â
You look at him, yawning a bit. âI do, pookiekins.â
Satoru snorts in laughter, ruffling your hair annoyingly, you smack at his hand and sit up a bit. âWhatâs the plan when you have to tell them the truth?â
You frown a bit then, brows drawing together. âI havenât thought that far, I hope it wonât hurt themâŠâ
âCanât pretend forever, yâknow,â you nod a bit, turning back to your side now, ass damn near touching him, making his heart thrum in his chest. âWe can just tell them weâd rather stay friends?â
âWe could,â your fingers trace the sheets in front of you, contemplative while the soft cotton runs under your fingers. âDonât worry I wonât make you keep doing this or anything, I know itâs already annoying.â
âItâsâŠâ not annoying. âI actuallyâŠâ love this too much. âItâs not a big deal, youâd do the same for me.â
You look back with a pretty little smile â almost a sad one, making him contemplate that expression far too much. âOf course Iâd be your fake girlfriend.â
âAww, weâre bonding,â he rests on his side, grinning at you, making something in your heart flip before you turn back around. âWhat if I kick you off the bed by accident?â
âPsh, wouldnât be an accident, youâre evil,â Satoru chuckles, feigning an ease he no longer feels, when your shoulders gently move up and down, falling asleep quickly. âNight Toru.â
âGânightâŠâ
He slips the covers over your shoulders as you fade out.
One bed.
Youâre both sleeping in the same bed.
Satoru can inhale your scent, feel the heat of your body when you're so close, hear your light little snore, and everything in him aches to tug you closer, to feel you against him. How would it feel to hold you in his arms? Itâs like you belong there, truly, he canât imagine how youâre not then, how he restraints himself.
Life moved on for you both, once inseparable, but you both always made time for each other, whereas when heâs had break ups, it was done for good. Satoru canât risk losing you just because he canât hold back anymore, he has to remember you just wanted to get your parents off your back, and that the kisses were just for show.
Everything changed when your lips met.
His fingers hover just a couple inches away from where the blanket covers your skin, tracing the curve of your hip, where he'd love to tug you against him, wrap his arm, before he lets it fall and turns to face the other side.
It's impossible to fall asleep next to you and not hold you.
*****
You wake up with Satoru Gojoâs heavy arm and thigh wrapped around you like a monkey, trapping you down with his heavy weight. You wriggle just a bit, blinking sleep out of your eyes while soft light filters in through the slots of the blinds.
Turning, you see his Adam's apple, his chin, pulling back to look up at him, far too pretty to exist. His snowy lashes are long and lush, the sharp plane of his jaw illuminated by the sun, his plump lips just the tiniest bit parted. He shifts just a bit when you try to disentangle yourself, a hand pressing on your lower tummy and tugging you against him.
Thatâs then his thigh comes between yours, and the hard muscles press against your cunt, you gasp and wriggle again, only enhancing how fucking good he feels. Satoru murmurs your name softly, you worry heâs awake - but heâs still knocked out, while youâre drooling down his bare skin.
Fuck.
You push at his big ass arms, ignoring how good those biceps feel underneath your fingertips, but Satoru just increases how tightly heâs squeezing you, burying his face against your neck like youâre a body pillow. Youâd laugh if you werenât stupidly wet against your best friend in the world.
âSatoru, wake up,â you manage to murmur, despite him squeezing you so tightly you canât breathe damn near. You take several breaths, shutting your eyes and trying to ignore how good it feels here. This was your idea â to fake date, to put yourself in a position like this, acting as if your feelings were gone.
Theyâre clearly more prevalent than ever.
He shifts once more, his scent enwrapping you just like his long limbs do, steady thrum of his heart and his deep breaths against your back moving ever so slowly, pressing his thigh higher. At this point it feels so good you canât help but flutter your eyes shut, just stuck with him, biting your lip to try to hold back a filthy little moan when your slit drags against him.
Fuck, stop moving!
âHmm,â heâs humming in his sleep, hand slipping up now until one grips your breast. âSo soft.â
âSatoru!â You smack at his hand, hissing damn near when he squishes it in his grip, just making you wetter. âGet off!â
Satoru finally stirs away, realizing just how compromised your position was, blinking sleep out of his eyes and leaning up, feeling your soft breast in his hand, your heat against his thigh. Heâs already throbbing just waking up, but then he feels you dripping against him? He sucks in a breath, frozen behind you, hand no longer gripping but not moving.
âShit,â he grumbles, pulling his hand off reluctantly, ignoring the fact that your nipple grazed his palm like it did. âIâm so sorry.â
âYouâre suffocating me,â you shove his arm off you, but his leg stays, and you heat up when you realize how wet you got, embarrassingly so and there was no denying it. âI um⊠youâre⊠itâsâŠâ
âNatural,â he murmurs softly, sleep making his voice raspy, making the situation a million times worse between your thighs. âI must have just wrapped around you, I usually hug like three pillows.â
âYeah,â you canât say anything else, his hand hovers over your hip, not touching but sitting there. He pulls back a bit, eliciting a whimper from your throat before you can stop yourself, covering your mouth and shutting your eyes. âLet the earth fucking swallow me now.â
He laughs just a bit, hand finally settling on your thigh, pressing it up against his hard muscles again, pressing right up between your folds. You look back at him with a glare, his smirk widening. âNeed some help?â
âI swear Iâll beat you,â your lashes flutter when he moves again. âI didnât make fun of you yesterday.â
âYou were wet then too,â you glare now, just looking far too pretty. âDo you need me to take care of you?â
âTake care of⊠youâre Satoru and⊠fuck stop that!â Youâre whining out again, slamming a hand on your mouth again, when his hand drags you on your thigh. âThis is mortifying.â
âBeen a while?â Heâs acting like heâs not dying, leaking so much pre his shorts are stuck to him, an easy grin on his face.
âYouâre a dick,â you sigh, burying your face in your hand now. âYour fake boyfriend skills do not need to extend to this.â
âI see, you donât need any help at all,â he brushes his thigh up again, pushing down on your hip so youâre grinding on him now, youâre trembling, wanting to punch him as much as you want to hump his leg. âYou could use me while Iâm here.â
âUse you?â You look back at him, shifting your hips and watching his pupils widen, the only sign heâs affected at all.
âMmm, could be a perk of the fake dating.â
âFake orgasms?â You tease, then he leans low, lips almost brushing yours. Your heart hammers in your chest, you know heâs teasing you, but itâs impossible to maintain any calm right now.
âNo, theyâd be very real,â Satoruâs fingers slip up a bare thigh under the blanket thatâs all askew and half kicked off, keeping that smirk on even though if he touches your pussy heâll probably just cum. âI can show you how and everything, what are friends for?â
âYou think I donât masturbate because Iâm a virgin?â Itâs his turn to barely be able to form a sentence. âJust because no one has gotten me off doesnât mean I donât.â
âAh,â the thought of you touching your pretty pussy is enough to make him bust and leak out all over that ass nestled against him. âSo youâre good then, no need for my best friend services?â
âYou joke too much!â You turn and shove him, until he flops off the bed, scowling up at you, you just giggle, trying to forget the fact that you humped his leg damn near. âStop playing.â
âYeah, yeah,â he stays on the floor, just leaned back on his hands, legs crossed at the ankles, studying you, suddenly quiet.
âWhat is it?â
Satoru opens his lips, then shuts them, then opens again. âItâs just that⊠I didnât agree to this for-â
âWhoâs ready for a shopping trip!?â Your sister annoyingly bangs on the door, you roll your eyes and shake your head, getting up and walking over to open it before looking over at Gojo.
âWhat was it, Toru?â You ask softly, he stands then, looking far too good when you study his muscled back, making you ache in ways you canât admit.
Satoru was going to tell you he didnât agree to this for âmerchâ or just because you two were best friends.
He wants more, he wants this to be real. Fitting in with your family like a glove, feeling loved from you and them, the closeness you two share that leaves a void any time he ever tries to date. What you donât realize is he has been dying to get the courage to ask you out, but heâs always hit one road block.
Losing this forever.
Best friends can get through anything, but relationships scatter, they fall apart â they drift away, and he canât imagine not having you near.
âWhat is it?â Youâre smiling curiously, but he just shakes his head.
âItâs nothing,â he pats your head with a sad little smile, making the inner workings of your brain fire off in a myriad of signals. âBetter get that.â
âRight,â your sister soon drags you out to shop, bombarding you about Satoru while he relaxes at home with your parents.
âShould we get lingerie?â
âOh god,â youâre grumbling when you two pass a lingerie store, the mannequins up front wearing the most delicate lace that covers nothing. âNo way.â
âDonât you twoâŠâ Youâre a flustered mess, your sisterâs brows raising. âYouâre not fucking yet?â
âShut up!?â You cover her mouth, embarrassingly looking around to see who is within ear shot, sheâs laughing against your palm.
âHe must be a gentleman, well Iâll get you the sluttiest-â
âWeâre here for you, not me, I already have my dress.â
âIâm the bride,â you roll your eyes at her. âWhat I say goes. Ooh! That screams - fuck me daddy.â
âIâm so done with you,â youâre laughing though, your sister is anything if not a fucking trip, younger and more experienced, a free bird truly. âFine, one outfit.â
âYay!â
*****
âMake a toast!â Everyone is urging you that afternoon at the rehearsal dinner. As the maid of honor you absolutely had to do just that, prepare the first toast.
You look over at Satoru, whoâs sipping on champagne while you all sit around the banquet table, his Adam's apple bobs with his swallowing of the bubbly, fruity concoction. You smile at him, earning his little wink that just didnât feel fake at all, a hand squeezing above your knee gently.
How could you separate whatâs for show, whatâs friendship, and what could beâŠ
More?
Shaking that off, you focus on the bride and groom to be instead, who are both nuzzling each otherâs noses. Theyâre sickeningly cute, naturally doing the things you and Satoru are pretending to, the longing fills you then and you despise it. You should be happy for her, not envious because youâre scared youâll ever get that.
Not when Satoru exists.
âIâd like to toast to our soon to be newlyweds. To the two lovebirds, who have shown us all what it means to love someone unconditionally, and who have had the nerve to make it look easy,â your sister gets a little teared up then. âI donât know how you deal with her crazy ass â but you do it well.â
âHey!â Theyâre all laughing a bit, you smile over at her.
âI love you, and I love to see your relationship blossom,â a little more serious again, everyone settles in. âYou both make me want that love.â
Satoruâs heart hammers in his chest while he watches you, in that pretty pink dress youâre wearing, the same shade as the blossoms decorated along the white tablecloth. Youâre soft like this, usually so feisty and cracking jokes â this is a more serious side of you, the side thatâs always pulled him in and intrigued him.
Heâs avidly listening to every word that lingers from your lips, lost in how much he wishes they were for him, about him. He puts on a perfunctory laugh when he has to, mingling in with your family, trying to ignore how perfect and easy it all feels, but everything was easy with you, it always had been.
It was terrifying, how easy it was to hold you in his arms.
âHowâd I do?â You whisper, leaning close â too close.
He gives you that easy grin, leaning over to press a kiss on your cheek, feeling it warm under his lips. âYou did great sugar plum.â
You snort at the nickname, but all you can think is one thing â
You should have taken him up on his offer.
Soon the dance instructor is guiding all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen, along with your sister and her groom, but they of course set their sights right on you and Satoru. You could swear your sister was part demon â how could she at one moment shove you both together, then the other quite literally cockblock, youâll never know.
âDance you two,â your sister practically shoves you and Satoru to the wide space in the banquet hall, and the instructor steps up. âThey donât know how to dance, can you give them the basics?â
âSays who!?â You and Satoru demand at the same time, she snickers a bit.
âSays me seeing you two awkwardly shuffle every school dance.â You and Satoru flush then, he clears his throat a bit when the dancer takes his hand.
âOne on her waist,â he murmurs, all seductive with some french accent that makes this all the more intimate. âAnd one on her hand, like this. Ah, so romantic!â
Satoru looks at your entwined fingers for a moment, how his hand swallows yours with his long, thick fingers, before he looks down into your eyes, seeing how dark theyâve gotten. Your heart races so quickly he can feel it when the instructor presses you both close together, his fingers squeezing your waist just a bit, feeling your skin burning underneath your dress.
âAh, that is young love,â he blinks back tears, youâre so embarrassed then, even emotional when your mom is almost crying. You start to feel terrible for this little game, knowing it will hurt them.
You were so selfish, dragging Satoru in this too, whoâs looking at you with those blue eyes that you could never figure out the shade of, holding your hand in his while pressing you against his firm, hard frame. Youâre hardly able to form a word or a typical joke you two usually share, not like this, not when you believe this dance instructorâs flowery words.
Love.
Youâve loved Satoru for so long in so many ways, as a friend, as damn near family, as a confidant. Yet the love keeps changing, shifting and just growing with every moment you exist next to him, drinking up every bit of what Satoru Gojo had to offer â which was so much, too much.
Over the years watching him date, you tried your best to remain detached, and he never let your friendship go. You have been a priority to him since you both made friends on that playground back in first grade, he makes you feel soâŠ
Special, seen, heard.
Even when heâs joking, teasing or annoying you, heâs been there to hold you when you cry, to distract you from your low times, whether he helped you study or he just sat there next to you in the quiet. Yet he never crossed the line, never even touched you like he has this week, in your little game that feels too perfect, making you realize that youâll never have this with someone.
How could you feel this, the length of time youâve known each other, the comfortability even as youâre physically on edge. The familiarity when he spins you on the floor tentatively, you misstep just a bit, yet he catches you with ease. He always has caught you in your clumsy bouts, usually teasing or making fun, but when his arm wraps your waist?
Heâs too stunned to think.
You already look too pretty in that dress, youâre so serious tonight â not the goofy girl he usually spends his days with. That flush that spreads across your cheeks and nose, the lights dancing across your bare skin in that dress, he avoids looking too fucking long at it, at the pretty necklace resting between your collarbones.
He wants to trail his lips across them â then lower, to the pretty breasts he had in his hand this morning, the mere memory almost makes him misstep, narrowly catching himself beforehand. You look up at him as if youâll say something, the eyes of the entire rehearsal dinner on you, before you look back down at his chest, worrying your lower lip with your teeth.
âAm I a good partner, sugar bear?â He teases, lightening the mood then, you sigh and plaster on a smile and a nod, but it feels fake.
This is fake.
Why are you so absorbed, so lost in the cerulean depths that look down at you, twinkling just a bit with playfulness, yet when they briefly sweep down across your chest, you heat up under their gaze. Satoru spins you as instructed, bringing your back against him, hands joined while you look at each other, ending the dance.
Everyone is clapping, earning the slight embarrassment of the two of you, but itâs worse when your mom pulls you aside, hugging you tightly. âIâm so happy for you, to see you both so in love.â
Ouch.
Youâre gonna hurt her.
Youâre gonna hurt yourself.
You and Satoru sit through the rest of that dinner with ease, his arm casually thrown over your chair, leaning close to pull off the roll that will be done soon. You donât want this to end, the way he treats you, looks at you â as if he truly does feel the way heâs merely pretending to.
âEverything all right?â You look at him then, concern on his features. At your little nod his lips press together, eyes narrowing. âNo youâre not.â
He knows you too fucking well.
âIâm good, promise!â You put a hand on his thigh and squeeze just a bit, smiling brightly up at him.
He doesnât buy it of course.
*****
Later that night back at home your family is still enjoying drinks and talking, you two are thoroughly exhausted. Satoru is setting up blankets and pillows on the floor, you guiltily sit in the bed, tugging the covers up to cover your chest and sitting up. Itâs probably fucking better he does lay on the floor for your own sanity, yet you canât stand the thought of not enjoying him in your bed for this short amount of time.
âSatoru, I can take the floor.â
âNo way I let you do that,â he looks up at you, shirtless and wearing his pajama pants only, the way that makes you ache. âI clearly in my sleep grab your tits and cling like a monkey.â
âYes you do,â you laugh a bit, and so does he, self deprecating as always, then a quietness settles in the room. âWe could put a pillow between us?â
âIâll probably still attack,â heâs teasing, eyes glittering with humor. âShould probably keep me on the floor.
You want him in bed.
You want him to âhelpâ you, as he called it just this morning, taunting and teasing you until you almost begged him. Yet you canât just blurt that out â what part had been kidding, and what was serious? What crossed the line with the two of you anymore, could things just be at some âfriendshipâ level truly? Or would it just ruin everything to have a taste of him?
âIs it because I was so wet?â The word almost makes him whimper, eyeing you with those baby blues gone round.
âIs it⊠huh!?â
You press your legs together, looking away nervously. âWet, I was soaking wet on you this morning.â
He swallows then â as if he needed a fucking reminder, as if he didnât desperately run his finger down his own thigh and lap your juices clean off it the moment he was away. Sucking it so desperately and pathetically it was damn near laughable, just how badly he wanted you.
Why do you have to look so pretty on that damn bed?
âNo, no that didnât bother me at all,â he rubs the back of his neck, cursing the way you make him feel like that nerdy little boy he was the first time he ever tried to kiss you, way back during junior prom. The sweaty palms, the shaky hands, the awkward shifting of his feet. âI promise.â
You exhale, shutting your eyes. âI am making things all so weird.â
âYouâre not,â you cover your face then, wincing a little bit at yourself. âHey, promise you arenât.â
The bed sinks underneath his weight, Satoru sits next to you â brushing your hair back softly, before grabbing your wrists and lowering your hands, making you meet his gaze. Itâs quiet, so quiet you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the gentle sound of his breathing mingling with your own.
âYour offer to help, is that off the table?â Satoru almost cums at the mere thought of touching you, but heâs so in shock he just stares, mouth wide open, until you feel so embarrassed. âShit, forget I said thatâŠâ
âWhat do you need help with?â His voice is hoarse, just a bit scratchy, he clears his throat, still holding your hand, thumb brushing across your knuckles.
âWonât it make it awkward, weird? I donât want to fuck our friendship up, ever Satoru. Itâs important to me.â
He cups your face gently. âTell me what you want,â his raspy command almost destroys your resolve. âIâll give you it.
You almost say â âfuck me pleaseâ â Almost.
âSome relief you have so graciously offered,â you tease him a little, hand slipping up and down his chest. âI could return it.â
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Heâs staring at your mouth now, picturing it wrapping his cock for a moment, then he pictures busting inside your mouth in one fucking second. He quickly shoves that idea out the window, he damn sure wasnât gonna waste the moment heâs been waiting for since high school being embarrassed.
Your lips would feel so good. He shakes that off, pushing your back down on the bed and spreading your thighs before you can think. You gasp, his arms on either side of you, silky white locks falling over a brow, so close you feel his heart thrumming against your breasts, feel his heavy weight, touch burning your thighs, fingers pressing in.
âSatoru?â You manage a whisper, his hands slip up under his own shirt you stole, biting back a gasp when he realizes.
âNothing under this?â You flush, looking down now. âLook at me.â
Fuck.
You just follow what he says when heâs like this, all the years of sweet nerdy best friend Satoru culminate in the man before you â still every bit Satoru Gojo â but this side of him you have never seen. A side you imagined so often, but nothing even prepared you for his fingers gliding up your thighs, causing them to tremble, slick dripping from your cunt from just the proximity.
âIâll never not be here for you,â he whispers softly, as if sensing your every fear. âIf you want to have a little experience with me, Iâll gladly give it and expect nothing in return.â
Your throat goes dry. âBut why?â
âWhy?â He reveals your cunt then, bare and glistening for his view, failing to control his hands from gripping you so tight you wince, from exhaling at how pretty it is. âFuck⊠why what?â
âWhy would you?â
âHah, why would I?â He doesnât even know where to begin to answer your nonsense.
âYouâre looking at it!â
He laughs softly, nodding then, eyes affixed to how pretty your pussy is, touch trailing along your inner thigh, at the apex of it. âYou want me to stop?â
âNo.â
Your eyes are locked, his fingers grazing little trails up and down smooth skin, until he almost touches your core, teasing but not fully, making you throb with need. âThen tell me what you want me to do.â
âMake me cum â oh my god I just said that! Out loud!?â You cover your mouth and he almost bursts into laughter, even as heâs pressing his cock against the bed for friction, at how cute you are, instead his lips quirk up.
âShh, want your parents to know Iâve got you spread wide?â His words are too much, the way he says them, the way he moves lower, so low you tug at his hair. âDo you not want that?â
âYouâre⊠down there⊠andâŠâ
âItâs so pretty.â
You ease a bit at those words, eyes shutting in relief, Satoru sees the tension ease just a bit. âIt is?â
âGod, yes.â
You swallow nervously, breaths coming in little pants. âWe will always be in each otherâs lives, this wonât fuck it all up, will it?â
Satoru kisses your thigh then, tongue flicking up to lap up a little of the slick thatâs dripped down, a sensual mark of his saliva glittering when he pulls back. âIâd never let you out of my life. You think Iâd not be your friend?â
âJust canât lose you,â you whisper, before moaning softly, the sound so sensual Satoru almost canât handle it. âI thought you could um⊠finger me?â
âI can do that too,â he kisses even higher, breathy moans escaping his lips. âBut I am very, very fucking good at this.â
âThe best at everything, hmm?â You manage to tease, acting like his nose brushing up your folds wasnât almost enough to end you, your fingers gripping the sheets underneath you.
âI am the best at everything, itâs true,â he smiles all devious and cute, while your hands slip up his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense underneath your touch. âWouldnât I be the best friend in the world if you came on my mouth?â
Your own mouth goes dry, your answer lifting and spreading your thighs for him, he inhales your scent still looking at you. âI want you to, please.â
Satoru uses this as the permission to do something heâs been dying to for as long as heâs known what it is â to lick your pussy, the prettiest one, the yummiest one, a stripe straight up your slit. He maintains eye contact, youâre struggling to keep them open, his tongue soaking up the juices that start pouring then, until the tip of his tongue flicks your little clit.
âAh!â He shushes you with a little shh that tickles you more, your teeth grip your lip, watching your best friend start lapping at your cunt. âOh my godâŠâ
âMmm,â Satoruâs tongue is filthy as it runs up and down your slit, collecting every drop like itâs precious â and it is to him. The taste of you on his thigh hadnât come close to this, to just how sweet you were going down his throat. He eyes you, parting your folds, watching your face screw up in pleasure, brows drawing together.
Best friends just donât eat pussy like this.
Heâs fucking you with that tongue, nose bumping your clit thatâs aching for more, twitching in response, and you know this is so dumb, you know thereâs no coming back from having those blue eyes look at you like that. Signing your death sentence â your cat lady sentence â with three more flicks, until the wet muscle is gripped by your gummy walls.
âSatoru,â youâre whispering out his name, struggling to hold back all the moans that threaten, instead releasing them in little shaky spurts under your breath. Your core is tightening with every fuck of his tongue, gasps escaping your lips when he shoves your thighs up, smiling down at you for a moment.
âHold âem up fâme.â
Youâre so exposed, holding your thighs as he orders, opening up even more for him, he moans at the sight, pressing messy kisses to your clit now, over and over in little circles, causing your hips to jerk. He smacks your cunt, looking down at you under those snowy lashes, lips coated in your gloss.
âStay still,â he swirls two fingers in that arousal thatâs pouring, running them up and down your slit ever so slowly, inching them and stretching you out. âFuck, youâre so tightâŠâ
âMnhâŠâ You are gripping him too much, he eases his fingers out with a wet sound that echoes, spreading you wide again and spitting right on your cunt, using that to sink his fingers back in.
âBetter?â He murmurs, you nod quickly, eyes rolling back in your skull. Fingers pressing up on that soft spot over and over, earning your weak little mewl as a response, he smirks down at you. âThatâs a yes, I take it.â
You nod again, words escape you, how can you talk when heâs flicking his tongue over your clit and moaning against your skin?
Heâs so focused, so intense, his blue eyes never leaving yours, even as his mouth works you over with a hunger you never knew he had, one heâs just held back. Youâre mad anyone ever got this. Stupid thoughts, selfish and greedy, your fingers now entangling and tugging at his hair, just making his moans vibrate on your little clit again, sending jolts of pleasure up your body.
Satoruâs thick fingers slide in and out with greater ease despite how fucking long they are, curling inside you, pressing that spot that makes you want to scream out â barely muffling it with teeth that are sinking into your lower lip. His tongue is relentless, swirling around your clit, then flattening to give it a firm lick that almost undoes you completely.
âTaste so good, fuck,â he whispers then he fucking just dives back down.
The ecstasy makes you weak while the pressure builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, your thighs start to tremble while you hold them up and he adds a third finger, stretching you even more, filling you up until you canât take it anymore. You arch your back, your hands tightening their grip on your thighs as you open more for him, gasping out.
âYouâre close, huh sweetheart?â The way that word feels, the way heâs watching you, fingers still pumping in and out.
âPlease, Toru,â Satoru almost cums at that little plea, so sweet and pliant, holding your thighs up like a good girl. He presses a kiss on one of them, rutting his cock against the mattress for any pressure.
âMmm, then cum for me.â
Like some obeyed command it hits, your pussy clamps down on his fingers, pulsing around them as you ride it out, screaming into your palm, white hot stars behind your eyelids. Youâre barely able to contain those pornographic little moans, so sensitive youâre jerking when he pulls those fingers out.
He doesnât stop, though, continuing to lick and suck you hungrily, desperately, drawing out every last bit of your climax until youâre a writhing mess, twitching underneath him, clinging to his hair to pull him off. Satoruâs so drunk off your taste, your scent - you.
He almost canât unlatch his mouth until he realizes how overstimulated you are, your aftershocks die down but he slips a finger back in just to feel you pulse, moaning softly before he finally slips it back out, plush lips giving your clit one last gentle kiss before sitting back and sliding up.
âSo, how amazing am I, hmm?â He drags out those words, chin coated in your slick, you swipe some of it off just for him to nip at your thumb.
âFuck⊠you are amazing at it,â you earn his dopey grin, he licks the rest of you off his lips, making you flush. âDonât get so cocky.â
âI knew youâd admit it,â he eases your shirt down, your fingers trail across his abdomen, watching the muscles tense, tentatively touching him. He grips your wrist then, shaking his head. âYou donât have to do all that.â
âDonât you want me to?â You ask curiously, his gaze zones in on your mouth again, picturing just brushing his tip on it and cumming.
âIn what world wouldnât I? But I donât want to overwhelm you, youâre a cute little virgin you know,â he taps your nose, chuckling at your glare. âPussy is perfect, in case you ever worry.â
âOh,â you snuggle up to him while he wraps an arm around you. âThank you, that was insaneâŠâ
âIâm at your service.â
âMore figures incoming.â
He chuckles, hugging you tightly, you feel so good in his embrace, as you both feign an ease you donât feel. âAre you all right with what happened?â
âYes, very,â you look back and smile sleepily. âAre you?â
âMmhmm,â he canât very well say heâd die to be inside you, he doesnât want to push this too far, unsure of where you all stand. âIâll miss this weekend.â
Itâs quiet, save for your breaths.
You shift a bit, hand running up and down his veiny forearm, tracing a few of them, hearing the hitch in his rhythm. âIâll miss it too.â
Satoru just holds you tightly, inhaling your scent in his lungs and sighing. âAre you excited for the wedding?â
âVery, theyâre so happy, you know?â You yawn a bit, itâs too comfy here, so comfy you wonder if youâll ever sleep good again, knowing heâs here.
âThey are,â he leaves it quiet, scared and unsure what to say, aside from murmuring - âGood night.â
âNight, Toru.â
Satoru can hardly sleep, remembering the way you felt underneath him, it takes a while to let himself drift, when he knows that he wonât get you in his arms again, and he just wants to savor every moment. Youâre lightly snoring, turning to face him, slinging an arm around his waist, your cheek against his chest.
He just holds you close, studying a face too precious, wishing he wasnât so afraid to just admit what he feels.
*****
You woke up in Satoruâs arms again this morning, and it felt far, far too good to be there.
Youâre not even sure where you stand with him, exactly what last night was for you both, but you know it wasnât normal to feel that way. It went beyond any pleasure or skill, the way you fucking felt when that man looked at you was inexplicable. Not just a product of beautiful eyes, no there was something in the way you felt last night thatâs lingering.
You heat up with the memory even now, youâre both at your sisterâs reception â the game is almost over, the show is almost done. Youâre struggling to keep it together when you watch your sister dance with your dad, when you watch your new brother in law dance with your mom, then with each other.
Love.
You love your best friend, Satoru Gojo, and you knew going into this how bad it would hurt, yet you set yourself up like a glutton for punishment. This morning heâd smiled so sweet, teasing you and joking before you all were basically summoned with the sheer insane amount of things that had to be done before this wedding began.
It was too perfect being held by him, as much as you loved him licking you, you loved him holding you, grinning against your skin. He was in full âfake boyfriendâ mode, full best friend mode, just being Satoru Gojo, the boy youâve always known. Yet now there was more shared between you both, more than you can even comprehend and it fucking scares you.
A boy from your childhood strikes up a conversation while many of your old friends go talk to Gojo, a part of growing up together meant you both knew almost everyone here. The boy asks you to dance, holding out his hand then, you hesitate though, looking over at Gojo, whoâs watching you while he sips on his drink.
What were you two?
Youâre overthinking it, maybe it was just fun for him, maybe it was curiosity that had him worshipping you like that. You eye his glossy lips across the elegant ballroom, him in this sleek black suit looking far too handsome, so handsome he takes your fucking breath away.
You canât do this.
You canât stand to see a girlâs hand on his shoulder, something youâve seen plenty of times before, but now it was different. Now it didnât feel okay, it didnât feel right, and you know itâs foolish. You smile and let the boy lead you out, trying to remember that this was all ending tomorrow night, and would just be a memory.
Satoru canât stand to see you in someoneâs arms.
He almost crushes the glass in his hand before he sets it down, catching your gaze when the boy is stumbling damn near, probably due to how pretty you are. And god youâre beautiful under these lights, glimmering off your hair thatâs all done up, the dress molding to your body in soft, shimmery satin, making him want to fucking rip it off you then and there.
Last night meant too much â was it just experimental for you, just that you trusted him to be your first in that way, comfortability? He was overthinking it, he knows that when he is dancing right across from you, hand on a waist he doesnât want, other hand entwined with a hand thatâs not yours.
It fucking hurts.
He got a taste of what could be his, and heâll play it off like itâs fine, like you two are just the best friends in the world and he wasnât hopelessly in love.
You look up at your sister dancing, sheâs getting bent over her new husbandâs arm, giggling and waving at you. You smile at her, wanting to feel more joy and not this envy, before your eyes lock back to Gojoâs seeing him spin her in his arms. You donât expect it to hurt like it does in that moment, to see his arm around someone elseâs waist.
Heâs looking at you over her shoulder, blue eyes lowering just a bit.
Your heart shatters.
Your mom comes up to you, smiling and cupping your face then, âI feel soon we will be planning your wedding.â
You pause, mouth opening then shutting, tears burning the back of your eyes, when you realize youâll have to hurt her. Youâll have to hurt them all, because youâre so fucking selfish, and mostly youâve hurt yourself. Getting a taste of what it would mean to have the boy youâve loved for as long as you can remember, being greedy with all of those tastes.
Satoru would move on from this, live his life, but youâre not sure you can, how do you get over him, over his touches, his kisses? How he held you, how he looked down into your eyes? Even now, heâs watching you, like heâd rather dance with you in his arms â utter nonsense in your fucking head.
Youâre mistaking it all.
âHoney, are you crying?â Your mom frowns, brushing her fingers up and down your cheek, and you realize you are.
âThe wedding, it got me so emotional, umâŠâ Youâre lying through your fucking teeth right now. âCan I have some air?â
âOf course,â she looks at you concerned when you run out. Satoru excuses himself and rushes to her curiously. âI think this wedding is making her a little emotional, Satoru.â
âYeah, Iâll go check on her, okay?â He touches her shoulder affectionately, she nods and he rushes out, seeing itâs drizzling out â looking at your retreating form in that frilly pink dress just standing against the lit gazebo, head resting on one of the wooden pillars. âYouâre gonna get sick out here, itâs gonna downpour soon.â
âIâm fine,â your voice is weak and hoarse, and Satoru swallows down the pain he feels when you look at him. âGo have fun, this is almost over, you donât have to ruin opportunities.â
âRuin what now?â His teeth clench together, the rain spattering gently over the two of you, dripping down his hair as it pummels you. âYou danced with someone too.â
âYeah, I did, thatâs what we should do. Right?â Satoruâs hands come to grip your shoulders, chilled from the night air, the lights from the gazebo dancing across your skin.
âIs it what we should do? Is it what you want?â
âItâs what you want.â
âYou donât even know what I want,â he presses your back against that wood pillar now, a hand against it braced, taking the pummeling rain on his dress coat to protect you, making you cry even more. âWas last night the only time?â
âWas it⊠you want to do it again?â Youâre heated up, looking down shyly. âI thought you regretted it.â
âRegretted? Hah,â Satoru tilts your chin up now, making your eyes meet his, brushing a thumb over your lip. âAll I regretted last night was not sinking my cock inside you.â
âSatoruâŠâ You blink tears down your cheeks, a hand coming to his chest, he takes it and holds it close, while your body responds. âBut it means too much, I canât just do that as a⊠friend.â
âSo be more,â he lifts you before you can blink, holding you with one arm around your hips like itâs nothing, carrying you up those steps. âAnd stop getting soaked, unless itâs from me touching you.â
âFuck,â you grip his face, kissing him deeply, he sets you down, walking you back until the backs of your legs brush against the bench. âToruâŠâ
âI love you, okay?â Satoruâs voice is muffled by the pounding rain on the gazebo that shelters you both, droplets of water slipping down his skin, youâre sobbing then, so overwhelmed. âI have loved you.â
âI love you, so fucking much, itâs why Iâve neverâŠâ You trail off, heâs leaning down and cupping your face, studying you with eyes glassy with emotion. âThere is no one for me when you exist.â
He kisses you deeply at that, you shiver as he slips your straps down, eyeing the pretty white lace and exhaling. âYouâre wearing that underneath this?â
You say nothing, speechless as Satoru tugs your sopping wet dress down your chest, pulling out a pretty tit and moaning. You gasp out when he sits down, pulling you to straddle him, sucking one nipple hungrily in his mouth. Hands entangle in damp white locks, heat building, that heat thatâs pressed against his thick cock, pressing so insistently.
âWanna bury myself inside you,â he murmurs, looking drunk off you, sucking on the other nipple, his hands slipping across your hips. âI want her to know my shape only.â
âSatoru,â you kiss him again, heâs hastily slipping that dress up over your hips, sinking two fingers in with ease. âAh!â
âSoaked,â he whispers in wonder, curling them up and looking up at you the way only he does. âStop me before I fuck you the first time in this gazebo.â
âI donât want to stop,â your whisper is met with a sharp whine, fingers curling in your messy hole. âWant more.â
âWant me to eat you out again?â He whispers, pumping those fingers while you hastily undo his zipper. âFuck, you need more prep, donât pull him out, Iâll fucking shove it so deep.â
âGood, do it,â heâs whimpering when you touch him, stroking your hand up and down, finding that pre and swirling your finger. âHeâs so pretty.â
âDonât praise me too,â he huffs, you manage a little giggle, and in that moment â you all are still best friends, every bit of the comfortability â but thereâs more. So much more. âI donât wanna hurt you.â
âYou would never,â he pulls out his fingers, sucking them and moaning out at your taste, before kissing you again.
âYou wanna take me?â
Youâre a flustered mess now, overheated and damp from the rain, chest rising and falling while lightning flashes all around you both. âThe first time?â
âIâll help you,â he grips his cock at the base, running that velvety tip against your soaking wet cunt, moaning. âYou can take as much as you want of me this way, I wonât hurt you.â
Youâre emotional again, how much he cares. Youâre kissing him while tears fall, rocking against his tip while he whispers your name. âAh!â
Youâre barely taking the tip, stretching your cunt out so good, the burn something youâve never felt. You pull back to look down at him, his hands are gripping your hips under your dress, thumbs pressing into your pelvis, the sweet ache and pressure building, he eases you up a bit, then down, sucking in a few inches of him, your head falls back, scream echoing quietly in the rain.
âYou all right, sweetheart?â He kisses up your collarbone, cock wrapped by your tiny little cunt, already milking him.
âNeed help getting⊠it inâŠâ He exhales, lifting you again, pressing the tip back in, then further, this time it burns less â but the pressure. âSo much⊠too muchâŠâ
âRelax baby,â heâs calling you baby. You blink rapidly, letting him guide you up again. âSit down on it, take whatâs yours.â
Your hands grip his shoulders, fingers grabbing the soaking wet material of his jacket, eyes locked while you take more, his gaze lidded and dilated. âThatâs it, look how fucking pretty you are.â
You feel so pretty, working up and down again, whining out at how full you are, how deep heâs getting, cunt leaking more and more arousal to accomodate. You feel him everywhere, so deep in your tummy, heâs kissing your chest, your throat, lapping up the rain from your skin, whining out softly under his breath when you roll your hips.
âIs that good? IâŠâ
âItâs perfect, god,â he guides you again, his lashes fluttering shut at the ecstasy of your cunt rocking up and down. âYouâre doing so good, sweetheart.â
âMnh!â Youâre taking more, easier every time, your thighs tensing with each thrust, taking more and more until you bottom out, screaming.
âFuck,â he rests his forehead on yours, hands slipping to grip your ass, a cheek in each of his big hands. âCanât hold back.â
âDonât.â
Satoru moans, kissing you again, pulling you towards his chest and leaning back on that bench, starting to fuck up into you now, slamming your cervix. Heâs whispering your name while heâs got you stuffed, stretched out on his thick length, heâs just as lost in it as you are, whining out right with you against your lips. Hands pressing in bruisingly while he drags you down.
âUsing you like my pretty toy, you like that baby?â Heâs completely done for when your eyes get wide, lips parted while you whisper a little yes. âFeel her stretching out?â
âY-yes,â you gasp again when Satoru slams you down hard. âToru!â
âHold on tâme,â you do just that, clinging to Satoru when he flips you to your back on the plush cushion of the bench, tie hovering over your skin so silky. You tug it, bringing his lips to yours. He lifts a leg, sinking back inside you, youâre taking me easier and easier, messy cunt opening for him. âWant you to cum, can you sweetheart?â
Your nod is his answer, he exhales, already close with how tight you are, trying to hold out so you can chase that high, because he wants to see it, wants to feel it. Satoru shoves in deep, rolling his hips just so, when the pressure is too much, fucking unbearable. You shatter underneath him, pleasure rolling over your body even more intense than his mouth had given you.
Violently shaking, youâre drunk off him like he is off you, kisses and mumbles, while his cock works you, wrecks you with every stroke, slower and more calculated, letting you ride that orgasm out. And fuck youâre beautiful underneath him, damp hair splayed, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, exposed breasts all littlered with marks from him.
âYouâre so pretty like this,â he whispers, kissing you again, softer strokes slowing down and feeling those aftershocks grip his cock. âMnh, baby mâclose.â
âCum inside me,â he needs no further fucking invitation, Satoru does just that, whining out your name against your ear when he buries his face against your neck, shoving in deep. âNgh!â
Cum coats those slick walls in white, so hot and so much, you can feel him pulsing and thickening, pouring more cum deep. You try to catch a breath, but his leaky cock and the warmth spilling from your sensitive cunt have to cumming again, a little smaller but more sensitive, gripping him tightly.
Satoru eases back, your name on his lips, running his fingertips across your cheek and sighing, cock still snug inside you. âI never pictured this, in all the ways Iâve imagined taking you over the years.â
âOh, how many ways?â You tease, hand entangling in his damp locks, while he presses kisses along your jaw.
âIâll show you them all on one condition,â you blink now, a little sleepy, the rain slowly dying down. âYouâre not my âfake girlfriendâ anymore.â
âReal?â
âReal,â you blink back tears, kissing Satoru again, when he pulls out of you and moans at the loss, sighing and studying you. âI still want that merch though.â
âYouâre such a jerk!â You shove at him, heâs laughing and the sound melts your heart, the boy youâve always loved resting on top of you, soothing kisses like little apologies. âFine, Iâll get you anything you want.â
âRight now, I just want to kiss you some more.â He does just that, and soon your âfake boyfriendâ becomes entirely real.
Thank the 25k of you SO MUCH again for always hyping my ass up and motivating me to put these out :') I rly love yall and hope you enjoyed this fluff hehe <3
A/N: After seven months, it's finally here. Part I of Giyuu's Bundle of Joy. This fic involved a ton of research and tears. I hope you all enjoy. Special shout-out to @squishybabei @kentohours @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701 @ghost-1-y and @xxsabitoxx for letting me bombard your DMs with endless snippets from this fic for feedback. Note that this is a multi-part fic, and it will be a non-linear story.
CW: explicit sexual content ⌠MDNI ⌠loss of virginity ⌠unprotected sex ⌠protective/possessive Giyuu ⌠canon-typical violence
LISTEN TO THE PLAYLIST HERE
January, 1915
The moonâs rays filtered through the sparse canopy of the trees from above, bathing that small portion of the forest in its silvery glow. There, about twenty paces ahead, Giyuu locked eyes on his target.
A demon; one heâd been pursuing through the dense forest separating his Manor from the base of a great mountain for the last several miles
The demon had yet to notice him, for it was focused entirely on its own prey â a human woman, who was frantically zigzagging as she ran in a desperate effort to evade its clutches.Â
She was succeeding rather well in her endeavor, managing to dart out of the beastâs reach right as it snapped its sharp, deadly claws at her back. But the girl then miscalculated her movements and stumbled over something â whether it was a tree root or her own feet, he could not say â and she went airborne. For one, sickening moment, Giyuu feared he would not be fast enough to save her from falling victim to the demon he was readying to kill.
The girl squealed as she fell, just narrowly managing to avoid the swipe of the beastâs claws as they cut uselessly at the air where her back had been only seconds before. Something long and wooden flew from her hand as she sprawled across the forest floor â a broom.
Odd.Â
Steps quick and even, Giyuuâs thumb flicked his sword free from its scabbard. Within seconds of him drawing his weapon, the Slayerâs blade sliced seamlessly through the demonâs neck, its head thudding pathetically to the forest floor before the beast could comprehend the threat.
He landed swiftly on the balls of his feet, the Water Pillar quickly shaking his blade free of the demonâs blackened, rotted blood before sheathing it at his hip. A quick job â that was how he liked it; free of fuss.Â
Behind him, he heard the leaves coating the frozen ground of the forest shift and crack as the human girl heâd rescued rose to her feet. He grimaced; while helping rid the world of the blight inflicted upon it by demons was his lifeâs sole and true purpose, and one he fulfilled without hesitation, he was little more than a fish out of water when it came to talking to those he helped.Â
The girl had yet to flee; Giyuu suspected she might be in shock, if not a bit simple, and he sought to prod her along. After all, the sooner she left the forest, the less likely sheâd end up a demonâs meal and waste his efforts in preserving her life.Â
âYou should be fine now. Please return to your ho-,â The dark-haired Slayerâs words were cut off with a sputter as the head of the womanâs broom whacked him sharply up the side of his skull.Â
Giyuu stood there for a moment, dazed and slightly confused as he turned towards the woman whose life heâd just preserved.Â
The Water Pillar had not paid her much mind upon discovering her seconds away from becoming the slain horned demonâs newest meal, his attention having been entirely focused on eliminating his target. But now, without the distracting threat of a man-eating beast, he could see she was clad in the traditional attire worn by Shinto priestesses, though she looked far too young to have achieved such a status. Instead, she appeared to be much closer to himself in age. The front of her red hakama pants were streaked in mud and dirt from her fall, and several strands of hair had fallen loose from where theyâd been gathered in a ribbon just below her shoulders.Â
And she was glaring at him.Â
âWhat are you?â She demanded, and the Water Pillar noted the faint tremor in her voice that she worked to conceal behind her defensive stance, her broom braced in front of her like a blade.Â
A slow blink. âI am Tomioka.âÂ
It baffled him that he let his name slide so freely when heâd never been one particularly keen on sharing it. Yet, heâd thought that perhaps the exchange of names would get the wild woman before him to calm, and perhaps lower the sweeping tool â-
âWhat the hell is a Tomioka?âÂ
Giyuu wondered whether the â Miko, that was what young priestesses in training were called â had hit her head in the fall. âMy name.âÂ
A faint dusting of red spread across the Mikoâs cheeks as she realized the absurdity of her mistake, though she still did not lower her weapon. Rather, she jutted it towards him in what Giyuu thought may have been an attempt to be threatening.Â
âAnd what was that thing just now, Tomioka? And what are you?â Quickly, her eyes swept behind him, scanning. âAre there more?â
Idly, Giyuu wondered why he was bothering to indulge in such a silly conversation to begin with, chalking it up to the mere fact that they were still in a dark forest, with dawn still several hours away.Â
The foolish girl would end up a snack for another demon if she did not turn around and go home.Â
âIt was a demon. Iâd been tracking it for several miles when it stumbled across you. You can count yourself lucky â do not hit me again.â He cut off with a warning, eyes narrowing as the Miko drew the broom back up over her head.Â
There was a tense moment as the two regarded one another, Giyuuâs eyes locked on the Mikoâs trembling arm as she stared distrustfully back at him.Â
The girlâs hands twitched as the broom cleaved through the air once more, but Giyuu knocked it easily away, sending the cleaning tool flying uselessly to the side where it rolled under a bush.Â
âAre you finished?â Giyuu asked, irritation creeping into his tone as he stared coolly at the flustered Miko.Â
âYouâve stripped me of my only weapon, so I suppose I have no choice,â the young woman sniffed, her tone as frosty as his glare.Â
Giyuu grimaced. âYou would not have lost the privilege had you simply done as I asked.âÂ
The Miko folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and glowered at him. âYou would truly leave a woman defenseless in the woods? With nothing to protect herself?â
Giyuu scoffed. âYou are not a woman; you are a menace.âÂ
The young womanâs mouth opened and closed several times as her face flushed several shades deeper. âY-you!âÂ
A crack! somewhere in the woods made the sputtering Miko fall silent with a small squeak, and Giyuu was bemused to find that the womanâs hands shot to him for safety, when only moments before sheâd tried to clobber him away from her.Â
âYou said thatâŠthat thing earlier was a demon, yes?â She whispered and Giyuu nodded, tense as his eyes swept through the shadowy line of the trees, searching.Â
âDo you think there are more?â
âSo long as we continue sitting here like a pair of lame ducks, more are bound to come sniffing.â The wary Pillar replied. âWhich is why I suggest you return home â without bludgeoning me further.â
The young Priestess continued to cling to his arm, her eyes wide and anxious. Giyuu cleared this throat, and when the womanâs attention snapped back to him, he pointedly glanced down at her white-knuckled grip on the sleeve of his haori.Â
âApologies,â the Miko blushed, and her hands quickly relinquished their hold on his sleeve. She wrung her hands nervously before her. âMight you escort me back to my Shrine? Itâs not far from here â less than two kilometers.âÂ
Still within his territory â albeit at the opposite end of the forest where is own Manor stood. He grimaced, but nodded stiffly. His efforts to save the womanâs life would be in vain if she walked away from him and straight into the waiting, eager claws of another beast that lurked in the shadows.
The Miko smiled brightly at him and offered her name. Giyuu elected not to reply, and the girl settled into step at his side, a small frown pulling at her lips.
âIâm sorry for earlier â for hitting you with my broom.â The girl â Y/N â said a short while later, the faintest trace of shyness in her tone.Â
Giyuu did not think the apology warranted a response, and so he gave none, but the chatty little devil prodded him once more.Â
âDid I injure you?â She gestured to the side of his head where her broom had caught him.Â
Giyuu snorted, raising an eyebrow at her. âThe day I am hurt by a mere broom is the day I retire from the Demon Slayer Corps.âÂ
Y/N hummed in contemplation. âAnd what exactly is the great and mysterious Demon Slayer Corps?âÂ
The Water Pillarâs eyes remained forward. âI should think the name is self-explanatory. There are demons who eat humans. We slay them.âÂ
Inwardly, Giyuu cringed at the harshness of his words. It did not happen often, but there were times when he wished he was better with them, when he wished he did not come off quite as aloof and callous âÂ
âYou do not know how to talk to people very well, do you Tomioka-sama?â Y/Nâs tone was not judgmental; it rather had a mild curiosity to it, as though she were merely commenting on the weather or the quality of a cup of tea.Â
But the Water Pillar did not know how to answer her. Kocho once told him that others disliked him, but Giyuu wasnât sure that was entirely true; after all, no one had ever said so much to his face.Â
Then again, if the young shrine maidenâs words were anything to go by, then perhaps the Insect Pillarâs scathing assessment hadnât been too far off the mark.Â
âWhat even brought you into the forest so late at night?â Giyuu did not know why the question needled at him, but he found the pressing silence of the trees more disconcerting than the Mikoâs voice, and so he was desperate for the distraction. âAnd why a broom?â
Y/N herself seemed surprised at his sudden interest. âNight-blooming herbs,â she said plainly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. âThey are critical for certain rites and medications. And I cannot collect them any other time. The broom was for protection, obviously.âÂ
âI wasnât aware shrines still performed rituals,â Giyuu pushed an errant tree branch out of their way, and ahead, faint lights began to swim into view. The Shrine. âAre you not a mere relic of a time long since-passed?âÂ
âIâll have you know that we still perform basic cleansing rites for those in the village,â Y/N bristled. âAnd we provide medical aid, since there is no hospital nearby.â
She shot him a cold look. âModern medicine would not have developed but for ancient practices such as ours.â
Giyuu frowned. He hadnât meant to insult the woman. âBe that as it may,â he said flatly. âDemons prowl at night. You wandering into the forest none the wiser is akin to you waltzing into their territory with a giant sign that says âEat me.ââ
Y/N grimaced. âThen what would you have me do? Neglect my duties?âÂ
He could sympathize with that. âNo, Iâm not saying you should forsake your obligations,â he furrowed his eyebrows at the thought. âPerhaps it is simply a risk you must take. But you should at least be aware of your surroundings.â
Y/N looked upon him with a miserable expression. âYouâre of little help, you know that?âÂ
Giyuu only frowned, perplexed as to why she couldnât understand the import of his words.
An awkward silence ensued, punctured only by the faint hoot of an owl. For that, the established swordsman was grateful; noise meant the absence of predators, which meant they were safe â for now.Â
âYou mentioned tracking the demon earlier â how long had you been doing so?âÂ
âA while.âÂ
The girl was relentless. âAnd you just so happened to track it here? Where it was conveniently chasing me?âÂ
âI patrol this region. Your rescue was nothing more than coincidence and luck on your part.âÂ
âMy gratitude is endless,â the shrine maiden said drily. âForgive me for not falling to the ground in prostration.â
At that, Giyuu fell silent and refused to engage in any further conversation. The shrine maiden, for her part, seemed to take his cue that he had no interest in her or exchanging meaningless pleasantries, and so she too, went quiet.Â
The forest floor eventually began to slope gradually up, and before long, Giyuu found himself walking along a carved rock path that curved through the trees until it widened at a great set of stone stairs. At the very top of the steep incline, he could spot a great Torii gate.
Y/N turned to him with a beaming smile. âAllow me to introduce you to the Shrine." Tomioka opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly added, âYou should at least know who it is you have dedicated your life to protecting.âÂ
âIâd rather not.â
But she was already leading him up the stairs, his wrist pinched delicately between two of her fingers. Realistically, Giyuu knew it would take him no effort to shake the womanâs hold and disappear into the night. But to his own bemusement, he allowed her to tote him behind her as though he were little more than a useless pet.Â
The pair passed under the Torrii and into a sprawling courtyard. Though night sky was a deep, inky black, the perimeter of the courtyard was dotted with several stone lanterns -- toro -- each of which had been lit with a generous flame. Giyuu's quick perusal of the Shrine, however, was cut short as the Miko led him into the Shrine's main structure -- the honden -- and tugged him down a narrow hallway. Based on his rough appraisal of the building, Giyuu surmised she was taking him to the center of the honden, likely where the girl's master was.
His theory was proven correct when Y/N drew up to a great slat of shoji panneling. The Miko knocked softly on one of the wooden beams before she slid the door aside, revealing a great, open room that was littered with scrolls, half-dried pots of ink, and burned incense sticks. There, in the center of the room, knelt the head Priestess of the Shrine. She was an old, shriveled, wrinkled thing. The white hair that sheâd gathered into a knot at her neck was as wispy as the thinnest clouds, and a quick glance over her hands revealed swollen joints covered by skin spotted with age.
But the Priestess did not appear to be a gentle elder by any means; her thin mouth was curled down into a sneer that was directed at the Miko at his side, and her eyes were hard and cold. Â
"Head Priestess," Y/N bowed to her elder. "This man is called Tomioka, and he helped save me tonight in the forest."
Giyuu resisted the urge to snort. Helped, indeed.
The old woman's eyes shone bright with an emotion he could not name as the Miko continued. "A creature attacked me as I was returning home. Tomioka says he is a swordsman whose occupation --"
âI know what he is, girl,â the Priestess snapped at her student before she turned those beady eyes to him. âA member of the Demon Slayer Corps will always be welcome at this Shrine â particularly one as esteemed as yourself.âÂ
The Water Pillar straightened at the old womanâs casual mention of the Corps. âI was not aware that of any Shrines so affiliated with the Corps.âÂ
âThere was a time when the Demon Slayer Corps would partner with shrines such as this to carry out its mission,â the Priestess replied evenly. From his periphery, Giyuu spotted Y/Nâs head snap toward her mentor, her jaw slack. âOnce, priestesses were akin to shamans who offered a variety of rituals for cleansing and protection. You slayers relied on our connection with our communities to operate more effectively, and we in turn, counted on your protection to fight what we could not.â
Despite the distinct scent of sake that clung to the elderly shrine keeper like a cloud, her eyes remained sharp and fixed upon him, and her wrinkled mouth pulled into a rueful smile. âNow, it seems, our wise and benevolent government has forced us both to retreat to the shadows to operate in secret.â
She bowed her head. âYou have nothing but my respect, Lord Hashira. You are always welcome here.âÂ
Giyuu did not respond, but he inclined his head toward the Priestess in polite acknowledgement.Â
Y/N gaped at her Master. "Lord --?"
The old woman poured another generous serving of sake and brought the choko to her lips. âThough we are honored by your visit, young Lord, Iâm afraid your presence is nothing more than a calculated effort by this one,â she nodded pointedly at the young shrine maiden at his side, whose cheeks pinkened. âTo keep herself out of trouble. My apprentice was not permitted to leave the grounds, you see.âÂ
âOh hush you old drunk,â Giyuuâs eyes snapped to the irate Miko in surprise. âI told you earlier I was going to the village market ââÂ
âTelling me while I am in the middle of lessons with the younger girls and sprinting off before I can respond is hardly me giving you permission,â the Priestessâs mouth curled into a sneer. âYouâve defied me for the last time, girl.âÂ
The old Priestess turned away from her apprentice, dismissive. âYou will take the rice bundles and hang them in the drying shed â every last one, for the next three days.âÂ
âYou hag!â Y/N fumed, her face pinched in outrage. âI was on rice duty all last week without an ounce of assistance ââÂ
âAnd you apparently have yet to learn your lesson,â the old woman retorted bitterly, shooting the seething Shrine Maiden a withering glare. âConsidering you still think it seemly to mouth off at any and every opportunity ââÂ
The Miko spat a curse at the elder Priestess so filthy and colorful that even Giyuu could not mask his surprise, raising his eyebrow. But if Y/Nâs outburst shocked the Shrineâs head, the old woman gave no sign. Instead, she only glowered at the young woman as the latter turned and shoved the shoji door harshly to the side. Giyuu, ever the unwilling observer, was left to be pulled by his wrist back into the hall behind the young Miko before she whipped around to face her senior once more.Â
Giyuu had thought himself stunned by the crassness of the Shrine Miadenâs language before, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the obscene gesture she made at the old woman before she slammed the door firmly shut.Â
A telling crash on the other side of the wall signaled the Elder Priestess had hurled her empty sake dish at the door with all her might. âAnd work on your aim!â Y/N snapped before turning sharply on her heel to stomp out of the honden, tugging the Water Pillar helplessly behind her.Â
âShe seems unstable.â said Giyuu once they were a safe distance away from the main Honden.Â
Y/N brushed aside his concern with a flippant waive of her hand. âGranny is harmless. As her charge, I suppose I instigate her nearly as much as she torments me.âÂ
Granny. It made sense, then, the curious affection the girl held for the rancorous head Priestess, even if he could not bring himself to fully understand it.Â
âYou are more than welcome to stay the night,â the Mikoâs mood lightened considerably the more she put distance between herself and the drunken head Priestess. âWe serve breakfast at sunrise, but of course, youâre not obligated to attend.âÂ
The ravenetteâs mouth quirked down in a faint grimace, the only sign of his discomfort. âI should return to my own home.âÂ
âItâs quite late,â Y/N glanced up at the night sky, now awash with stars that surrounded the fat, glowing moon like thousands of glittering jewels. She turned back to him with a radiant grin. âAt least allow me to show you around.â
â
If anyone had asked him, Giyuu Tomioka would not have been able to explain the series of events that had led him here.Â
He distinctly remembered telling the vexatious young Shrine Maiden no, that he could not stay the night, yet somehow heâd found himself in the Shrineâs old, musty guest house, already prepared for his stay, a lantern flickering merrily in the corner.Â
He glanced warily at the fresh sleeping kimono folded beside his futon. The possibility of him actually sleeping in such an unfamiliar place was nil and while the Water Pillar certainly had no issue in appearing impolite to others, he thought that perhaps the Shrine was affiliated with the connection of Wisteria Houses dotted throughout the land, and he didnât want to risk offending the head Priestess and cause her to shut her gates to other slayers in need of lodging.Â
So, Giyuu paced the floor of the small guest house, restless. Though his eyes remained carefully trained on the window of his room, waiting for the slightest hint of movement that would give him an excuse to leave without offending his hosts, no sign of either his crow or any demonic threat manifested. Though, he supposed with a frown, it shouldnât surprise him that heâd not heard from Kanzaburo; the ancient bird was likely flitting about the forest, lost.
He continued to pace until finally, the sky in the East began to lighten signaling that dawn was fast approaching. Stealthily, he slipped out of the small hut that had served as his temporary accommodations and made his way toward the Torii under which he and that Miko â Y/N â had passed upon their arrival.
Heâd almost cleared the gate when he saw the elder Priestess standing beside the Torii, apparently waiting for him. Giyuu nodded his head at her, the only expression of courtesy he was willing to give, but he was halted as the old woman flung out a single arm in front of him, her hand flat and palm turned up, waiting.
And that was how Giyuu learned the Shrine was not, in fact, a Wisteria House; not as he was forced to fork over a considerable sum of his earnings into the Priestessâs expectant hand.Â
Wisteria Houses meant Corps Members stayed free of charge; the price the Shrineâs keeper demanded in exchange for his brief stay bordered extortion.
At least heâd had the money; if heâd been of any lower rank, the old woman would have cleaned him out. Â
He scowled as he departed but his irritation quickly fell away as he finally laid eyes on Kanzaburo, who nearly collided with his Masterâs head as he struggled to pant out his orders.Â
And so, as the Water Pillar trekked through the forest and toward his new assignment, the view of the Shrine faded behind the dense canopy of the mountain forest, and so too, did any final, sparing thoughts of it, or its inhabitants.
âââ-
Nearly a month passed since Giyuu stumbled across the strange shrine maiden in the forest separating his Estate from the old Shrine, and the Miko had nearly faded from his memory. Not that such a feat was difficult; the raven-haired Pillarâs mind was far more occupied with tasks like patrol and chasing down leads that could potentially lead the Corps to an Upper Rank demon to focus on much else.Â
Heâd intended only to find a decent meal and then depart the village before nightfall to investigate rumors of women disappearing in a small town to the south. Night was rapidly approaching, however, and heâd yet to find any vendor that sold anything he liked, much to his chagrin. He was about to cut his losses and continue on, when he spied a familiar blur of white and red idly perusing one of the stalls, apparently oblivious to the impending sunset.Â
Without thought, his feet carried him toward her, his annoyance sparking to life.Â
âWhat do you think youâre doing?âÂ
The Mikoâs â Y/Nâs â head turned back and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Pillar standing behind her.Â
âTomioka-sama,â she greeted with a polite bow. âI did not expect to see you so soon.âÂ
He ignored her greeting, choosing instead to take a step closer. âI asked what you were doing.âÂ
If she was taken aback by his terseness, she didnât show it. âI am returning to my shrine after an afternoon of errands,â she replied smoothly. âAs is usual for me.âÂ
âIt is nearly dark.âÂ
âAn astute observation,â and to his annoyance, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye. âDo you also know that tonight is also a full moon?âÂ
Said moon had already made an appearance above them, growing brighter and brighter as the sky faded from twilight to night.Â
Giyuu had never been one for rolling his eyes, but the young womanâs knowing smirk grated at something inside him, made him feel as he often did whenever Kocho would make a sly comment with that smile of hers, that for some reason made him feel like he was the butt of some joke only she knew.Â
He grimaced. Teasing; thatâs what the shrine maiden was doing. She was teasing him.Â
âIt is nearly dark,â he repeated. âAnd I did not think youâd be naive enough to risk traveling after sunset.âÂ
âI believe it was you who insisted I did not have to ignore my duties, so long as I paid attention to my surroundings.â She replied coolly. âSo that is exactly what I am doing.â
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Fine. If the stubborn girl wanted to be bait for whatever awaited her in the forest once the sun finally set, then that was her choice. Heâd saved her once, and heâd given her sufficient warning; what she did from then on did not concern him.Â
He was about to bade her farewell when a slurred, boisterous voice boomed her name from across the market. Several heads turned toward the source, including Giyuu's, until he found a round faced, piggish man stumbling away from a sake stand, his cheeks flushed a bright red.
The man repeated the Miko's name in that grating, sing-song voice of his. "Whe're you goin' all by yourself so late?"
He didn't know what possessed him to ask, but Tomioka turned to the shrine maiden. "A friend?"
âHis name is Susumo,â she said airily, though she could not conceal her scowl as the man drew closer. âHeâs merely the village drunk who forgets to keep his hands to himself.â
The shrine maidenâs eyes narrowed accusingly at the villager, and the Miko remarked, in a raised voice, âAnd he is not welcome at the Shrine, though he pretends to forget otherwise.â
Susumo only held his hands up, as though in surrender. âYou canât blame a man for wanting to know what lies under all those layers,â and as if the implication of his lechery wasnât clear enough, he gave the Miko a leering once-over. âCanât say I was disappointed.âÂ
âBut your friend is right,â he slurred, a smirk forming on his lips. âThe dark is too dangerous for a pretty thing like you to risk walking back alone ââ
âI shall escort her,â Tomioka said abruptly and she whipped back to him, her mouth falling open. âAfter all, Iâm welcome at the Shrine.âÂ
Susumo, too, gaped at the Swordsman. The Miko recovered quickly however, unwilling to allow the opportunity to pass or for the Slayer to suddenly come to his senses and realize heâd rather leave her to fend for herself in the forest.Â
âYou have my gratitude, Tomioka-sama,â and she gave him a small bow of her head. Relieved, she flipped her braid over her shoulder and smiled warmly up at her raven-haired companion. âShall we?â
She did not wait for Tomioka to answer, nor did she give any further acknowledgment to Susumo, who only continued to stare at the Hashira, his face bright red. With a feigned indifference, she breezed past him, but a sudden yelp from behind caused her to snap back in alarm.Â
The first thing she noticed was the proximity of the back of a dual-patterned haori as it stood between her and the village drunkard. The Water Pillarâs shroud nearly brushed the tip of her nose, forcing her to step back. Cautiously, she peered around Tomiokaâs rigid form, and her eyes widened at the sight before her.Â
Susumo, it appeared, had tried to grab her, only to be cut off by the Water Pillar himself, who snatched him by his wrist. Though it did not appear that Tomioka was using a great deal of effort to restrain him, it was clear Susumo was struggling â greatly so â against the ferocity of the Slayerâs hold, given how a vein bulged in his forehead, his face, rapidly turning purple.Â
Her gaze flicked to the Swordsmanâs hand, and she felt herself blanch at the odd angle of Susumoâs wrist.Â
She was no doctor, but she knew wrists werenât meant to twist as his did in Tomiokaâs crushing grip.Â
âLeave.â the Water Pillar ordered coldly, and there was a darkness in his eyes that matched the brutality of his hold. âYour presence is unnecessary and unwanted.â
âY-you! Susumo sputtered.
But Tomiokaâs grip only tightened. âNow.â
And then he released him, Susumo half-stumbling back from the Swordsman. His eyes were wide with both fear and loathing, and he muttered incoherently under his breath as he massaged his rapidly-swelling wrist.
The Water Pillar, however, did not pay any more attention to the red-faced villager. He turned only to the shrine maiden, who remained frozen in place, her eyes wide. "Shall we?"
Numbly, Y/N nodded and the two set off down the path that led back to the Shrine. Dimly, the Miko noted that the Slayer kept noticeably close to her as they walked, as though he was unwilling to let her wander too far away. The air between them as they traveled was thick and tense. She was on edge enough thanks to Susumo and his oily words, and she was desperate to do anything to distract herself from the buzzing mounting under her skin.Â
She cast a sly, sidelong glance at the Swordsman walking at her side. Heâd not been receptive to her small-talk the last time heâd escorted her back to her Shrine, but saying something â anything â would be better than this stifling quiet threatening to choke her.
âHow old are you?â Before the Swordsman could decide whether to answer, she continued on. âIf I had to guess, I would suspect youâre around my age, and I just passed my nineteenth birthday.â
She hummed aloud. âYou seem quite young, yet youâve achieved some level of status as a swordsman, according to Granny.â Her eyes fell to the blade secured at his hip before she lifted them back to his profile. âYet youâre as withdrawn and taciturn as an old man.âÂ
Her words, thankfully, seemed to irritate him into responding. âAre you always so forthright?â Â
The Miko grinned. âPerhaps I am like you, Lord â what was it? Hashiba?â
âHashira.âÂ
âYes, that. Perhaps I am like you, Lord Hashira â utterly lacking in social ability.â There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she brushed her shoulder against his bicep. âBut at least I make up for it by talking.âÂ
âTalking is a distraction,â Tomioka monotoned, his eyes fixed resolutely on the hidden path of the forest before them. âIt only serves as an interference to oneâs duties.â He looked pointedly at the Mikoâs profile, but inexplicably found himself unable to look away. âOr an excuse to ignore them.âÂ
But she was unflappable. âAnd yet you are the one who decided to escort me all the way back to my Shrine â so who is the one ignoring their duties, Tomioka-sama?âÂ
âI think you enjoy diverting my attention,â the Water Pillar retorted, though Y/N could see the rising annoyance in his eyes.Â
She felt his gaze bear into her as she flipped her loose hair behind her shoulder. âItâs not possible to distract someone unless they find the diversion in question captivating, Tomioka-sama.âÂ
The Water Pillar almost looked amused. âAnd you are certainly that, Y/N.âÂ
The Miko ducked her head to avoid that piercing gaze, so that the ravenette would not see the faint rosy blush creeping across her cheeks. âI did not think you had the constitution for teasing, Lord Hashira.âÂ
Tomioka looked at her fully then, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. âI do not jest.â He hesitated for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he scrutinized her. âNor do I lie.âÂ
Y/Nâs lips parted. There was something about the way the Swordsman beheld her that made her stomach flutter. In her last encounter with the enigmatic Slayer, sheâd been so rattled by her close encounter with the demon, that she hadnât truly noticed much about the man whoâd saved her life, apart from his bland detachment and rather unfortunate social skills.Â
But now, the Miko was struck by how handsome the raven-haired Hashira was; she was mesmerized by the deep azure of his eyes, as vast and deep as the sea. His skin was a delicate alabaster, and, contrasted with the flesh of his hands which were calloused and scarred, his face had not a blemish in sight.
She blinked, clearing away some of the fog that had crept into her mind, put there by the vexatious Slayer. âI must return to my duties,â she said softly.
They spent the remainder of their journey back to the Shrine in silence. She was quick to break away from him the moment they passed under the Torii, though not before she muttered that he was welcome to stay, should he so choose.
She busied herself with her duties, but even the neediest obligations could not fully distract her from feeling the burning heat of his stare as the Water Pillarâs watched her fiercely from across the courtyard. And nothing, nothing at all could have prepared her for how he eventually joined her in carrying out her duties,Â
The Water Pillar stayed the night once more, departing sharply at daybreak. Later, as Y/N swept the courtyard free of loose brush and clutter long after his departure, she noticed a crow sitting high in a tree, its black eyes watching her every movement. Though its gaze was sharp, the presence of the great, sleek bird did not disturb her, though not as much of a feather twitched from its perch upon the branch as the Miko continued through her day.Â
As sheâd readied for bed later that night, she realized sheâd felt oddly comforted by the crow. She imagined it a silent protector, a new guardian of the Shrine, no different than the statues of the gods which dotted its grounds.Â
She settled into her futon with a great yawn, the image of a certain dark-haired Swordsman flickering in the back of her conscience until she was swept into sleepâs sweet embrace.
Just outside the Shrineâs sleeping quarters, the bird remained, eyes carefully tracking every shift in the shadows, waiting.Â
And then the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, and the threat of night receded once more.
But the crow remained.Â
âââ
Spring, 1915
The crow became a permanent fixture at the Shrine, though it always seemed to keep strictly to a single tree at the edge of the property, one that gave it a full view of the courtyard and structures surrounding the main honden.
Despite the bird's constant presence, more than a month passed before the Water Pillar returned, though he'd seemed even more sullen and withdrawn than he'd been during their previous two encounters. Y/N did not consider herself a friend to Tomioka by any means, but she was the only one brave enough to approach him as he'd lingered by the Torii, apparently unsure whether he should seek out their hospitality or return to the forest.
"You are welcome to come and sit for a hot meal," she called cordially, though she maintained a tentative distance. She frowned when he did not respond. Instead, the Water Pillar continued to stare unseeingly at the cracked stone path leading to the Shrine's courtyard.
"Tomioka-sama?" She pressed gently and the Swordsman's attention finally snapped to her, as though he'd just become aware of her presence.
The haunted look in his eyes sent a chill up her spine. The Miko cast one, cautious glance up at the sky, and her eyes narrowed at the wall of black clouds steadily rolling in from the east. A shift in the wind brought forth the distinct, metallic scent of rain, and if she listened hard enough, she swore she could hear the distant rumbles of thunder. âYou know, there will be a storm tonight â please consider waiting it out here, where itâs safe.â
Tomioka only stared at her for a moment before he nodded. His hand twitched into a vague gesture inviting her to lead the way, and Y/N escorted him to the Shrine's elder, in search of her permission.
Granny Priestess agreed to let him stay, but on the condition he paid for his imposition. The Water Pillar had silently agreed, producing one small money bag from his pocket and placing it squarely in the Priestessâs outstretched, waiting hand.Â
The heft of the bag had made Y/N frown; it seemed a great sum in comparison to their meager lodging offerings, but the Swordsman did not object, so she held her tongue. To comment would only serve to irritate her Master, and the old hag was scornful enough to assign her to duties that would isolate her from the raven-haired Slayer.
Only after the old Priestess sauntered off, leaving behind nothing but the lingering, bitter stench of sake, did the Miko speak again.Â
âIâm glad to see you in good health, Tomioka-sama,â she bowed, though she thought she spied the corner of his mouth twitch down at her formal greeting. âI trust your patrol went smoothly?âÂ
The Water Pillarâs expression was tight; dark. âIt did not. The demon I was tracking managed to get away.â His jaw clenched tight. âBut not before it slaughtered an entire family in the mountains.âÂ
All at once, the world around her seemed to slow. It had been easy to assume the dark-haired Swordsman before her always managed to find his target just in time, before it could slaughter its victim. Now, as she beheld the lethal coldness that had settled over his features, Y/N knew her assumptions had been wrong.Â
Perhaps, she noted with a shudder, her rescue had been the exception and not the rule.Â
Beneath the icy stoicism limning the Water Pillarâs eyes, the shrine maiden noted a distinct heaviness that weighed down his shoulders; made them curl slightly forward, defeated.
She resisted the urge to reach out to him, in comfort. âI wonât offer you empty platitudes,â she murmured. âBut I can invite you to offer your prayers for those who were lost.âÂ
He looked at her, brows drawn, and she knew his instinct was to decline, so she added, âI will do it regardless of whether you join me.â
All at once, any protest he had was snuffed out within him. Instead, he was left with a curious softness as he regarded the shrine maiden, so assured and earnest in her invitation.Â
He didnât know why heâd sought out the Shrine.
Heâs been angry; angry at himself for not being faster, for allowing innocent people to die on his account of his failure.
He still felt angry. Yet, as he followed Y/N into the Shrineâs haiden to light incense, he also felt a solemn gratitude for the Miko, whoâd not let him indulge in his self-loathing but instead requested he act, and act with her.Â
So he had; and somehow, the weight on his chest, the one that threatened to suffocate him, lightened bit by bit until Giyuu felt like he could breathe once more.Â
Later that night, Giyuu spotted the shrine maiden from his window as she darted around the courtyard to light the tĆrĆ to illuminate the Shrine grounds. A deep rumble of thunder, however, signaled the spring storm had finally arrived. Y/N, however, only continued with her task, huddling over herself to strike the matches needed to finish lighting the lanterns as rain began to dampen the landscape around her.
He was about to go outside and demand she return to the warm, dry haven that was the girlsâ sleeping quarters lest she catch a cold, but then the last of the lanterns were lit and the shrine maiden straightened.
And then she tilted her face up toward the sky, allowing the rain to wash over her.Â
And she grinned. And Giyuu was mesmerized; so much so, that he had not stopped staring at where sheâd stood, laughing in the rain, even long after the Miko retired to bed.
-
Y/N awoke well before sunrise the following morning and spent hours laboring over the hot stoves in the kitchen. By the time the sky finally lightened, she'd only just finished her task and was in the process of boxing up her creation when she spotted one of her fellow shrine maidens passing by the entryway.
The Miko called out her name. "Has Lord Tomioka awoken yet?"
Her sister trainee lingered in the doorway. "Oh yes, he's been up for a while," and the girl looked back over her shoulder. âBut he is already on his way out ââ
The Miko swore viciously under her breath as she slammed a lid atop the small bento and hastily wrapped it in the small cloth sheâd swiped from the laundry.Â
âMove,â she barked at a small group of trainees that had gathered in the hallway outside the kitchen. The girls flattened themselves against the wall as Y/N sped by. She hurtled up the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste. Just as she burst into the courtyard from the honden, panting and winded, she spotted him.
âTomioka-sama!â Y/N called, hurrying after the retreating form of the Water Pillar before he could pass through the shrine gates. âI have something for you!âÂ
The raven-haired slayer turned back to her, his face neutral, though Y/N could tell, by the slightest raise of his brow, that sheâd piqued his interest.Â
âThank goodness you hadnât left yet,â the Miko said brightly, holding out a small bundle wrapped in furoshiki cloth. âI was worried this wouldnât be ready before you did.â
Tomiokaâs eyes dropped to the parcel in her hands. âWhat is it?âÂ
Y/N motioned for him to take it, and to her slight surprise he did, holding it slightly in front of him as though it were liable to burst open. âA meal for the road. Granny and I prepared it this morning â as thanks, for everything youâve done.âÂ
But the Water Pillar was already shaking his head, trying to press the package back into the shrine maidenâs hands. âI need no thanks; I do my job, and your shrine happens to be part of it.âÂ
If his words disappointed her, Y/N did not show it. âAnd yet we are grateful all the same,â she said firmly, arms crossing in front of her chest to avoid taking the small bento back. âBesides, itâs salmon; it will only go bad if you donât eat it.âÂ
Had she not been watching him, Y/N would have missed the slight widening of his eyes, or the way his hand twitched back towards himself, bringing the packed lunch closer to him.Â
Cerulean eyes watched her for a long moment, before dropping as Tomioka tucked the bento into his pocket.Â
âThank you,â was all he said before he turned away and continued through the gates of the shrine, setting off on the path which would lead him through the forest.Â
If she hadnât known better, she wouldâve sworn the Water Pillar looked happy as he departed.Â
âââ
The Slayer returned exactly one week after sheâd given him the home-cooked salmon â but he did not return empty-handed. For there, wrapped in the same furoshiki cloth, was a strange, oblong object, sitting in the palm of his hand though if he thought it heavy, Tomioka gave no indication.Â
âWhatâs this?â Y/N leaned curiously over the Pillarâs outstretched hand and squinted, trying to discern what the cloth could have been concealing.Â
Tomioka pushed his hand toward her, beseeching her to take the parcel from him. âA knife.âÂ
The Shrine Maiden looked up at him in alarm, pulling away from the Water Pillar. âWhy on earth would I need a knife?âÂ
He rolled his eyes. âProtection.âÂ
âFrom what?â The Miko wrinkled her nose down at his offering, though there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. âAs I recall, I walloped you just fine with my broom.â
Tomioka shot her a dull look. âBe that as it may, cleaning tools are useless against demons. Without the sun, the only thing that works against them is decapitation with this â its metal is unique.âÂ
He parted the folds of the cloth to reveal a simple blade, though Y/N found it daunting all the same. The hilt was basic, an unembellished metal handle wrapped in plain black leather. The blade itself was an unassuming silver, slightly longer than her hand.Â
The Slayer motioned for her to take it, though she only shrunk away. âYou know how to use one, yes?âÂ
The Mikoâs eyes met his, wide and anxious. âFor domestic uses, of course, but not ââÂ
Tomiokaâs fingers closed around her wrist and lifted, guiding her hand toward the dagger. His hand moved to cover hers, wrapping them both around the hilt of the blade before squeezing. âGrip it like this,â he held their joined hands up for her to inspect. âKeep your hand in a fist; do not lift your fingers away from the grip â thatâs the best way to injure yourself instead of your target.âÂ
But the shrine maiden could hardly focus on the Pillarâs instructions. Her attention was directed entirely at the way her hand was swallowed by his, his skin warm and his grasp firm. She studied how his calluses â thick and forged from years of brutal sword training â pressed against hers; how, despite the roughness of his fingers and palms, and his solid hold still remained gentle.Â
â-- and thrust like this,â he remained oblivious to her distraction as moved her arm in a sharp jab, a second and then a third time, before dropping her hand. âNow do it yourself.âÂ
His command startled her out of her trance, a heat creeping up her neck from beneath the collar of her kosode. She held out the blade awkwardly before her as scrambled to recall the Water Pillarâs words. To her dismay, all she was able to conjure was the memory of his touch, and how cold she suddenly felt without it.Â
Lamely, she mimed jutting the knife at an invisible enemy, the blade gracelessly wobbling through the air. Though she was by no means a swordsman, even she knew something was off, her movements disjointed and clumsy.
She glanced shyly back to the raven-haired Demon Slayer and deflated as she was met only with bemused resignation.
Tomioka shook his head in disdain. âPerhaps you would fare better with a broom.âÂ
The Miko bristled. âI am not a swordsman ââ
âYouâve made that abundantly apparent.âÂ
ââ and I do not have the basics you seem to take for granted.â She finished, glaring indignantly at her raven-haired companion. âSo teach me.â
The Water Pillar considered her for a moment before he gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible nod of his head.Â
âWatch me.â He turned his body toward the Miko and mimed getting into a defensive stance â feet ajar, his weight evenly distributed on each leg, and bent.Â
He looked back to the Shrine Maiden expectantly, and she parroted his movements, crouching into what she imagined was the perfect mirror of his position.
It wasnât.
âNo â you need toââ Tomioka straightened and huffed, impatient. He moved quickly behind her, and without thinking, his hands shot to grip her hips to guide them into the proper stance, until her weight was evenly distributed on both feet.Â
âLike that â now bend your knees.â The ravenette pushed down on her hips until her legs bent, apparently oblivious to the way the Miko flushed crimson.
He was close; far, far too close. Sheâd never been touched the way the Water Pillar touched her. Tomiokaâs hands were twin brands, burning her skin even through the layers of her shrine attire, and it sent every nerve beneath her skin buzzing.
She was aware of every inch of him pressed against her; of his arms, caging her in, his hands twin brands against her hips as he turned and pulled her into the proper stance. She was aware of how warm he was, of how formidable his presence felt, even though to her, he posed no threat. Every movement of his was precise and fluid, like the water heâd claimed to style his techniques after.
And if his touch wasnât distracting enough, his scent threatened to overwhelm every last bit of sense sheâd clung onto. Y/N didnât know how she hadnât noticed how good he smelled â like mahogany and citrus â so rich and so warm; a stark contrast to his otherwise cold and aloof nature mask.
The swordsman, however, appeared to remain oblivious. âThere,â he finally said, having satisfied that sheâd achieved proper form. For moment, the two of them lingered there, with Tomiokaâs chest against the shrine maidenâs back, his hands remaining steady in place on her hips. It was as though theyâd frozen: Y/N, out of a mixture of shock and red-cheeked embarrassment, and Tomioka out of utter cluelessness.
Another beat passed before the Water Pillar finally realized the compromising nature of their position. His hands dropped quickly from her hips, and there was a rush of air at Y/Nâs back as he swiftly stepped away, putting distance between them once more.Â
The raven-haired Slayer gruffly cleared his throat. âYou should also keep wisteria on you.â And Y/N gulped down her embarrassment to turn back toward him.Â
Tomioka kept his face neutral and cool, but the tips of his ears had turned pink. âCheck your perfumes for it or ask one of the other shrine girls if you can borrow theirs â oil would be better. More concentratedâ
Any residual awkwardness that may have lingered fell quickly away. The Miko only stared blankly at him, her head tilted slightly to the side as her eyebrows pinched together. âPerfume?â
Tomioka blinked. âYes. As all women have.âÂ
It was an effort to fight off the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. âExactly how many women do you know, Tomioka-sama? Such that you would know their perfumery habits, that is.âÂ
His mouth thinned into a firm line. âEnough.âÂ
And though Y/N supposed heâd meant to sound self-assured and confident, the Slayer was betrayed by the slight doubt in his voice, as though heâd been questioning his own answer.Â
The shrine maiden only continued to look at him, her eyebrow slightly raised, amused. The longer the silence stretched between them,the more awkward the ravenette grew, his discomfort plain from the way he shifted under her stare.Â
âYou seem like someone who would use it.â He finally offered, after another moment of quiet.
It was her turn to blink, taken aback. Her smirk quickly slid from her face and with a grimace, she felt her right eye twitch, ever so slightly. âApologies, then, for disappointing you.âÂ
Tomioka frowned and he made like he was going to respond, but the Miko squared her shoulders and stalked briskly past him.Â
âI must return to my duties, and Iâm sure you need to do the same,â she paused in the doorway of the garden hut and cast one, sidelong glance back to where he stood, clueless. âUntil next time, Tomioka-sama. Thank you for the blade.â
With that, the Miko paced briskly away from the garden hut, her spine stiff. The Water Pillar remained in place for a moment, stupefied, before he collected himself once more, before setting off back toward the forest; to his Manor.
And as Giyuu retreated through the rusting Torii gate, he could not quite shake the distinct impression heâd done something wrong, though he knew not what.Â
â
The Water Pillar returned the following week, though to a decidedly cooler greeting than that which heâd steadily grown accustomed to receiving.Â
That wasnât entirely true â the majority of the Shrineâs residents had welcomed him warmly, their kindness always far more than he thought he deserved. Only one hadnât greeted him as enthusiastically as the others, and to his annoyance, that one was the only person whose opinion of him mattered, even if he couldnât quite articulate why.
She hardly stopped to acknowledge his arrival, only gracing him with a brisk nod, though sheâd refused to meet his eyes. Bemused, Giyuu followed her across the courtyard as she made her way to the Shrineâs small storeroom. He leaned against the doorway and watched as the Miko began pulling jars of dried herbs from the rickety shelves lining the walls and stacked them on a sizeable work counter that cut halfway across the room. All the while, she continued pointedly ignoring him, humming lightly under her breath as though she could not see or hear him as he shifted against the doorframe, waiting.
Her obstinate silence grated at him. âMay I assist you?â
âNo, no, I am perfectly fine, thank you.â She turned away to browse the shelves once more, before finding what she needed: a stone mortar and pestle.
The grinder settled against the wooden counter with a heavy thud and the shrine maiden snatched up one of the jars sheâd stacked and dumped its contents into the bowl, followed by another bottle of herbs. Pestle in hand, she set to work grinding the leaves together, mixing in a vial of fragrant oil sheâd kept in her pocket to create a thick paste.
Giyuu watched her quietly as she worked. âYouâreâŠâ he frowned. âYouâre behaving strangely.â
Y/N glanced up at him. âIn what way?âÂ
âYouâre trying to avoid me.âÂ
âAm I?â She straightened, rolling her shoulders. âOnly because Iâve not yet bathed today. I didnât want to risk offending you with my stench.âÂ
Giyuu paused. âWhy would that matter?âÂ
âYou made sure to point out you thought I needed perfume during your last visit.âÂ
He pushed off the doorframe, eyebrows knit together. âFor protection.âÂ
The shrine maiden rolled her eyes. âYes, and apparently, because you believe I am the type to need it.â When Giyuu only continued to stare at her with that same, mildly lost expression, Y/N groaned, exasperated. âYou implied I stink.âÂ
The Water Pillarâs jaw slackened as he gaped at her. âThat is not ââÂ
âIt is what you implied,â she repeated, turning away from him to focus on her task of grinding herbs, though the force with which she ground the pestle was perhaps greater than necessary.
Giyuu rounded the small countertop of the Shrineâs storeroom to face her head-on. âI like how you smell.â He insisted. âItâs nice.âÂ
The Mikoâs irritated churning of the stone paused and her eyes finally lifted to his. For a long moment, she watched him, head slightly cocked.Â
âYou are very odd, Tomioka-sama.âÂ
But she said it with a small smile that he almost wanted to return.Â
Before long, things between them returned to normal once more, with the Miko directing him to collect her gathering basket from where sheâd left it in the Shrineâs infirmary and bring it to her. Once he returned, he helped her grind charcoal to make incense sticks as she chatted happily away.Â
Surprisingly, Giyuu found himself not only engaged in her musings about daily life at the Shrine, but offering her small personal anecdotes of his own, though he was not nearly as proficient as she when it came to story-telling. Â
Once the sun began setting once more, and he received no new orders from Headquarters, he simply sought out the Shrineâs head Priestess and silently passed her a small money bag.Â
And then Giyuu retired to the guestâs quarters for the night.Â
â--
As spring warmed into summer, the Water Pillar began making bi-weekly visits to the Shrine that quickly melted into habit; expectation. Once a fortnight, a thrill would settle over the young maidens in anticipation of the arrival of the stoic yet handsome Slayer, with girls of all ages eagerly looking toward the Shrine gates in hopes of spying him the moment he crossed beneath the Torii. The elder employees of the Shrine had learned to time Tomiokaâs arrival by listening for their excited gasps, exhaled as a collective as brooms and rices sacks were dropped where their handlers stood, the girls far too interested in rushing to greet the exalted Slayer than they were in completing their tasks.Â
âI do not see the reason for such excitement,â she sniffed, though even she wasnât stupid enough to think her fellow trainees bought her bluff. âHe is only a swordsman.âÂ
âA handsome one,â a wispy trainee named Miyoko sighed dreamily. âAnd no doubt strong and capable.â
The group of maidens dissolved into another fit of giggles, concealing their blushes behind their hands.
âHis face is attractive, but his hair is odd,â another commented. âIt looks like heâs hacked at it with his own blade.âÂ
âOh, who cares about his hair? Iâm far more interested in whatâs beneath that uniform ââ
âEnough,â Y/N snapped. While her friendship with the Water Pillar was tenuous at best, the suggestive way her sisters-in-training spoke of him left her feeling decidedly discomforted.
Though, if she were honest with herself, sheâd admit that she, too, wondered whether Tomiokaâs strength was the product of a finely-hewn tuned physique. But she wasnât, so she bottled that thought up and tucked it tightly away, where it belonged.Â
Slowly, her cohorts all turned to look at her.
âYou seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister,â Miyoko directed at Y/N, who felt her cheeks heat. âIs there anything youâd like to share?â
âTomioka-sama always asks where Sister Y/N is, the moment he arrives!â A tiny voice chimed, and Y/Nâs eyes slid shut in an effort to fight off a wince. âSometimes they even do chores by themselves!â
Komatsu. At only ten, she was the Shrineâs youngest trainee, and followed Y/N around like a shadow. Not that the shrine maiden minded all that much; she tended to spoil the girl a bit, when she could. But as pure as the girlâs intentions surely were, sheâd yet to lose that childlike earnestness that made her prone to revealing information that Y/N rather remained a secret.Â
âAlone with a man?â Miyoko repeated, her eyes shining with malicious glee. âHow scandalous â even for someone without a family to embarass, dear Y/N.â
âCareful, Miyoko,â she warned softly. âDonât go speaking on matters of which you know nothing.âÂ
âOr what? What would you do?âÂ
As fond as Y/N was of her sisters-in-training, one did not make it through the Shrineâs rigorous education and training without learning how to trade in the kind of currency young women valued most.
Information; specifically, gossip.Â
So the shrine maiden only leveled Miyokoâs own smug smirk with one of her own. âOr I shall tell Granny how you spend your afternoons kissing the boys from the village, rather than tending to your lessons.âÂ
The other girls gasped, their stares turning back to the gossiping shrine maiden. She savored how quickly the girlâs prideful grin slipped from her face as the weight of the threat settled.Â
While Y/N, parentless and thus without anyone to truly care about her propriety, was being primed to take over Granny Priestessâs position overseeing the shrine, her position was unique. She was parentless and thus, without anyone to truly care about her propriety or whatever other ridiculous expectations of modesty that were often attached to other young women her age. In being no one, Y/N was relatively free to do as she pleased, and that freedom almost made up for her lack of belonging.
But the other girls residing at the Shrine were different. Families across the region sent their daughters to the Shrine for training, not only in their cultural practices and arts, but also for education; to become well-rounded women who would then serve to be valuable marriage prospects once they returned home.Â
Scandal would not affect her; but it would affect someone like Miyoko.
âHow do you think your parents would feel, to know their heir was behaving so brazenly in public? Risking her reputation on the marriage market before sheâs even entered it?â
Truthfully, she liked Miyoko; had gotten along well with her, in fact. But she would not risk those sacred few moments she spent with the Water Pillar in an effort to keep the peace with another trainee. Not when those few instances she spent in his company were the only times sheâd felt connection â true, human connection and belonging.Â
Her sister-in-training ruefully fell silent, and Y/N savored her victory. Later, when she was left with nothing but the company of her own thoughts, however, the exchange played back in her mind.
In all her posturing, sheâd managed to avoid having to answer for Miyokoâs lofty observation.Â
You seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister.Â
She did; and, to her slight horror, she realized that she had no interest in stopping.Â
She only wanted more.
â
It was past dawn when Giyuu trudged under the great Torii gate of the Shrine, exhausted and aching.Â
It had been a long while since a demon was last capable of wounding him, but heâd been blown backward by a delayed attack that hit after heâd beheaded the damn thing. As a result, heâd been sent flying back, slamming through a dilapidated wall of the abandoned hut heâd tracked the creature to, resulting in a sizeable gash to his shoulder.Â
He grit his teeth in mild annoyance. He would need some treatment of his wounds â not that they were deep by any means, but they were substantial enough that he knew infection could spell trouble for him, should it spread.Â
Some small, irate voice in his head snidely reminded him he could have just as easily gone to the Butterfly Mansion for treatment â that, in fact, the Insect Pillarâs estate had been much closer to the location of his mission than the Shrine had been. Heâd rationed that, as much as he admired and respected Kocho, he was still a bit raw from her mocking about how unliked he truly was among his comrades.Â
Besides, he groused. Kocho was not the one he really wanted to see, anyway.Â
He found Y/N in the Shrineâs storeroom, seated upon the floor with a detailed ledger spread out before her as she took inventory of various scrolls and texts.
Giyuu did not bother to announce himself. âYou have medical training, do you not?â Â
The Miko startled, the charcoal stick sheâd been using to tally the ledger clattering to the floor. She blinked up at him in surprise. âTomioka-sama â welcome, itâs been a few weeks â forgive me, I did not see you come in.â She quickly rose to her feet, shutting the store ledger and tucking it under her arm.Â
Her eyes found the blood-stained shoulder of his hair and widened. âI have some; I can stitch and dress wounds ââ
He nodded. âThen I require your assistance.âÂ
â-
Y/N led him to a small office inside the honden that served as the Shrineâs unofficial infirmary. âTake a seat,â she nodded at a small stool that sat under the roomâs solitary window, right by a modest working table. âLet me see what we have.âÂ
Tomioka sat upon the stool with his back to her as she busied herself sifting through cupboards in search of supplies. âWhat sort of wound is it?â
She turned back and nearly dropped a tin of medicinal salve sheâd located as she beheld the Water Pillar strip himself of his clothing from the waist up.Â
There, across his right shoulder blade, she saw it â saw his blood. Quickly, she located thread and a needle and she grabbed a roll of cloth that could double as wrappings and she crossed back across the room. Â
She spread her bounty out across the table, right beside the neatly folded pile of his clothing. Silently, she set to work cleaning the gash, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she saw that it was little more than a shallow flesh wound.
âLucky you, this wonât need stitching,â she said lightly as she wiped away the last of the dried blood from the Water Pillarâs skin. âBut I shall need to wrap it so it wonât become infected.â
Tomioka only gave her a curt nod. She stepped back to work open her tin of medical salve, and as she warmed the substance in her hands, she let herself fully examine the Swordsman sitting before her. Her eyes trailed over the sculpted planes of his back. It surprised her how muscular he was, given his leanness. Yet, without the layers of his uniform shirt and haori, she could see he was well-built, each muscle defined.Â
She didnât know why it surprised her that there was a man beneath the mask of the Slayer, but what a man he was. Her mouth went dry at the thought. It was an effort not to allow her eyes to wander lower; to ponder what he might look like under his uniform pants, stripped and fully bare before her âÂ
âWhat is that scent?â Tomiokaâs sudden question startled her away from her increasingly treacherous thoughts.Â
Sheâd never been more grateful to be facing away from him. That way, he could not see the blush coloring her cheeks as she hastily slathered the salve across his wound. âAnti-septic; I know itâs rather stringent, but â â
The Water Pillar shook his head. âI know what antiseptic smells like. I mean you. The scent you wear.âÂ
She pursed her lips for a moment before she recalled the distinctly floral scent of her cleansing oils. âSakaki blooms, I suppose.â
âWhat properties does it have â what are its effects on others?â He pressed. She was surprised at how insistent he seemed, and there was almost an urgency in his tone that unsettled her.Â
âNone, to my knowledge â why do you ask?â
The tips of Tomiokaâs ears turned pink and he turned away from her, lips pressed into a firm line. âForget I said anything.â he muttered after a moment, his shoulders and spine stiff.
Neither one of them spoke again as Y/N finished treating the Water Pillarâs injury and wrapped it.Â
âYou're done,â she said after a moment, tapping him lightly on his other shoulder.Â
âYou have my thanks,â Tomioka quickly refastened the buttons of his uniform shirt as the Miko stepped aside, pointedly wiping her hands clean with a small cloth. She only looked at him once he lifted his haori from where heâd carefully laid it atop the small examination table, but her eyes narrowed as he rose from the stool, shrugging the material back over his shoulders. âI am happy to pay you for the resources you used ââÂ
Y/N did not appear to be listening, not as she leaned forward and pinched the sleeve of his haori between her thumb and index finger.Â
âYou have a tear,â she frowned, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. âRight here, see?âÂ
There, on the side bearing his sisterâs half of his haori, right where his sleeve met his shoulder, was indeed a small hole, the threads around it broken and shifting slightly in the wind.Â
The Mikoâs hand fell away, and she squared her shoulders, mouth set in a firm but determined line. âIf youâll give me a moment, I assure you I can have it repaired in no time ââÂ
âNot necessary,â the Swordsman said abruptly, twisting back from her. âI can figure it out on my own.â He would not part with it, would not so much as let another put their hands on it and risk ruining his most cherished possession.Â
Y/N only stepped toward him, ignoring his attempt at distance. âThereâs no need to be prideful,â she huffed impatiently. âTruly, it would take no effort at all ââ
âNo.â
âWhy are you being so difficult?â She snapped, but her hands continued reaching for him, for his sleeve âÂ
Tomioka snatched her wrist mid-air and held it there, halting her. âNo one touches this. Understand?âÂ
Y/Nâs lips parted in faint surprise at the Water Pillarâs severity. Her eyes darted to where his fingers were locked tight â uncomfortably tight â around her wrist. When she glanced back at the stone-faced Slayer, she felt a chill lick down her spine. Sheâd known he could be intimidating against threats, even without saying a word. It was his eyes â his eyes would harden, with the lapiz hue of his irises darkening to something more akin to indigo, as he stared down an opponent. Sheâd witnessed it the very first night sheâd met him.Â
She just hadnât thought she would ever be on the receiving end of such a cold glare.Â
âI understand,â she said softly, and she began flexing her wrist against his grip in an effort to work herself free from his hold. âPlease forgive my indiscretion, Tomioka-sama. I overstepped.âÂ
The raven-haired Slayer blinked and quickly let her go, her wrist falling limply back to her side. Just outside the infirmaryâs small window, he heard the familiar, urgent cry of a crow.
Heâd never been more grateful for a distraction. âI must be on my way.â His tone was stiff; clipped.Â
âBut â youâve only just arrived ââÂ
âFarewell, Y/N.â Giyuu gave her a curt nod.
Helplessly, the Miko watched as the Water Pillar stalked out of the small office, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He did not so much as spare a glance back, leaving Y/N to wonder whether she would see that odd patterned haori again.
The thought she might not made something cold and heavy sink into her gut.
â-
(One week later)
It wasnât often that Giyuu Tomioka found himself annoyed, much less angry. He much preferred channeling his existing emotions into slaying demons, allowing them to taste a fraction of the rage and hatred he felt deep within, a vicious fire he so rarely let bubble up to his service.
Until that evening. After the fiasco that was Mount Natagumo and the subsequent chaos at the Masterâs mansion as a result of the Kamado boy and his demon sister, Giyuu had finally noticed that the previous dayâs trials had resulted in the tear along the shoulder of his haori that he knew could no longer be ignored.Â
He grit his teeth; the battle against the Lower Moon spider demon had hardly required him to exert any energy â yet the demonâs last ditch attempt to preserve its life had managed to enlarge the small hole in his most prized possession, and the Water Pillar was utterly without the skill to repair it.Â
So, heâd been forced to sit through the meeting with the Master, the hole in his haori feeling more like a gaping wound that only festered with every passing moment, until finally, finally theyâd been dismissed.Â
Giyuu hadnât wasted any time departing swiftly from his Masterâs estate, though that hadnât stopped him from catching the tail end of Shinazugawaâs biting remark of how fuckinâ typical it was for him to leave without so much as a farewell to his comrades. He tried not to let the Wind Pillarâs words get to him; but he was unworthy of their company regardless, so he supposed it really didnât matter what they thought of him. It shouldnât.Â
And so, that was how Giyuu found himself padding silently along the cracked, stone pathway which led to the Shrine at the edge of his designated territory, ready to eat crow and ask for assistance from a particular Miko whom he felt certain would not hesitate to remind him of how heâd coolly rejected her help only days earlier.Â
Hence, his irritation.Â
So, his movements stiff and his mouth twisted into a firm grimace, Giyuu stalked under the Torii and into the main courtyard of the old Shrine. It was coming upon midday, though there was a thick cover of clouds overhead that threatened that open up at any moment and shower rain across the region. He ignored the respectful bows of the Shrineâs various inhabitants and staff, eyes sweeping over faces in search of her.Â
He located her near the storehouse, chatting with one of her fellow trainees as the pair worked to clean vegetables. Giyuu trudged over to her, eyes locked unwaveringly on her serene, easy smile, as he tried to ignore the way it made something in his gut clench and churn.Â
He drew to a stop right before her and her Shrine-sister, the latter looking up at him with wide eyes, her hands stilling over her work as she looked up to the Slayer in awe.Â
Giyuu cleared his throat but Y/N only continued wiping the dirt from carrots with her cloth.Â
The ravenette tried again. âI am in need of your assistance.âÂ
Y/Nâs comrade nudged her with her elbow, but the Miko only continued to clean, pointedly ignoring them both.Â
Giyuu pursed his lips. âWith my haori. The tear has grown larger ââ
âI am busy.â Y/Nâs tone was clipped. âPerhaps there are others who might assist you.â
âPlease.âÂ
The Shrine Maidenâs hands finally stilled and she lifted her chin to face him. The moment she beheld the pleading sincerity in his eyes, coupled with the hard set of his jaw that betrayed just how desperate he was, her gaze softened.
She sighed. âVery well then,â she rose, brushing her hands free of any residual dirt. She held her chin high and squared her shoulders, determined not to show him how heâd bruised her ego; how heâd frightened her. âFollow me.â
â
The Shrine sat at the base of a great mountain. But, nearly half a kilometer up the winding, twisting path leading up the mountain and carved into its side, was a grassy hilltop that then plateaued into a small overlook that boasted a phenomenal aerial view of the Shrine below.Â
The summer grass had turned a vibrant shade of emerald, broken up only by dots of tiny white and blue wildflowers that had gathered in small clusters sprinkled throughout the overlook. At the back of the clearing stood an ancient willow tree, its trunk gnarled and knotted with age, its wisps swaying lazily in the wind.  Â
It was her favorite spot; a little ways away from the hustle and bustle of the Shrine, which meant they would have some privacy as she worked. Y/N settled down against the grass and pulled a needle and a spool of thread from her pocket. She turned her face up toward the Water Pillar where he stood over her. âIâll take that haori, now, if youâll please.âÂ
Wordlessly, Tomioka carefully slid the garment from his shoulders and handed it to her, though he hesitated in letting go as she took it gingerly into her hands.Â
It was clearly very important to the Slayer, and perhaps that was why she felt the need to reassure him. âI promise to take care of it.â
He nodded stiffly and let go of the fabric and the Miko quickly set to work repairing its torn shoulder. The Water Pillar lingered awkwardly beside her for a moment longer before he too, sat in the grass next to her, though his back remained straight, his posture rigid.
She glanced at him as her needle wove the haoriâs fabric back together. âI suppose this happened because of your occupation?âÂ
It was faint, but the shrine maiden swore she saw his mouth twitch into something reminiscent of a grimace. âYes.â
âYou should be lucky it wasnât your flesh.â
At that, Tomioka scoffed. âI would not allow such a weakling to get close enough to try.â
âMy, Iâd not pegged you as the boastful sort, Tomioka-sama.â
âItâs not boasting; I speak only the truth.â He retorted evenly.Â
The shrine maiden only hummed as she worked. âAnd what of your family? Do they support your path as a Slayer?â
The Water Pillar turned his head away, his form stiff. For a moment, the Miko feared she would be left to repair his haori in silence, with nothing but the faint whistling of birds to keep her company.Â
âI have none,â Tomiokaâs voice was soft, nearly swallowed by the wind. âThere is no one left to object, even if they wanted to.â
Y/Nâs hands paused their work as she thought. âYou are alone?â
It would be nice, she supposed, to find another who, like her, belonged to no one; a kindred spirit of sorts.
âI suppose,â Tomioka spoke up after a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. âI have a mentor. But it was he who trained me to join the Corps.âÂ
âI should hope heâs more sober than mine,â Y/N drawled. âAnd less irritating.âÂ
The Mikoâs attention was so fixed on her careful stitching along the hole in his haori, that she didnât see his faint smile at her words.Â
ââ
The Slayer and the shrine maiden continued talking long after sheâd finished repairing the tear in his haori. It was only when Tomioka had realized nightfall was a mere hour away that the two reluctantly descended the hillside to return to the Shrine.
âI almost forgot.â The Water Pillar said, halting in front of the honden as Y/N escorted him back to the Shrineâs entrance. He dug into his pockets and pulled something free. âHere. For you.âÂ
The Miko gaped down at the fat red fruit that sat heavily in his palm. âThis is -â she said breathlessly, âA pomegranate!âÂ
He nodded, arm still outstretched towards her as he waited to drop the ruby fruit into her hand.Â
She shook her head. âNo, Tomioka-san, I cannot accept something so expensive-â
âI insist.â The Water Pillar withdrew a small knife and split the fruit in half, staining his hands crimson with the juice that spilled over its soft flesh.
Hesitantly, the young Miko accepted the half he offered her, and thumbed some of the fat, glistening jewels loose. The moment she brought them to her lips, Y/N sighed, contentedly, and for some reason, Giyuu found his cheeks heating as he watched her savor the sweet fruit.Â
She lazily opened her eyes after swallowing her first mouthful, but she was startled to see the Hashira staring at her, unwaveringly, and she realized heâd moved closer towards her than he had been only seconds earlier.Â
Tomiokaâs azure eyes were fixed hard on her lips, as he leaned in close to her, Y/N flushing as he drew nearer.Â
Is he going to kiss me? Her traitorous heart thundered at the idea, and it caused her no short amount of grief to know she was uncertain whether she wanted him to do so. As her emotions warred with her logic, the Water Pillarâs gentle fingers cupped under her chin, and his thumb brushed delicately across her lower lip.Â
âPomegranate juice,â he said, but Y/N could still feel the warmth of his breath still as his hand lingered under her chin. His eyes were wide as though he, too, could not believe what heâd just done.Â
âYes,â she breathed, before she felt her cheeks heat. âI â I mean, thank you.â
The Water Pillarâs gaze dropped to her lips and her stomach twisted violently. All at once, awareness seemed to come crashing down upon him, and he then stepped back, his hand falling from its hold on her face and back to his side.
The shrine maiden remained frozen in place for a heartbeat longer. âAre you certain youâre unable to be our guest tonight?â Her voice was little more than a pitiful squeak.
Her eyes lifted to his and she knew the answer before he spoke it. âI cannot,â and to her surprise, he almost looked as disappointed as she felt, but he added hastily, âBut I will be back. Soon.â
âSoon,â she echoed, feeling rather dazed. âYes. Of course. I â we â look forward to it.â
She was thankful that Tomioka had already turned away from her as he made his way down the long, winding steps that led to the main route out of the forest; that way, he could not see the way her cheeks burned crimson, or how she buried her face in her hands as she cursed her own embarrassment.
â
Giyuu was grateful his back was to the young Miko as he retreated through the Shrineâs gates and back to the path which would lead him home. It meant she could not see as he stared at his thumb â the thumb heâd used to clear away the small bead of pomegranate juice from her lips â or how his eyebrows pinched together. It meant she could not hear his heart as it beat wildly in his chest at the memory of how soft and full her lip had been beneath the pad of his thumb, soft enough that some treacherous part of his brain had urged him to lean in, to see if her lips would feel as good against his âÂ
He shook his head, trying desperately to dispel his wild intrusive thoughts. It was ludicrous; he did not think of the young shrine maiden in that way. Not when she frequently sought to needle him, not when she frustrated him to no end.Â
His collar suddenly felt tight; his skin, far too hot. His gaze dropped back down to the hand that had touched her, and it clenched.Â
A pomegranate. It was only a pomegranate; nothing more.Â
âIt was a thank you gift,â Giyuu declared, as though speaking the words out loud gave them more force. âIt is nothing more than an expression of gratitude.â
And even his crow, ancient and dull as he was, scoffed at the obviousness of the lie.
ââ
Late Summer, 1915
Summer blazed hot and humid. But neither the sweltering heat of the sun nor the most arduous missions he took exhausted Giyuu more than the complicated, tangled mess of feelings that had taken root within him. Because with every day that passed, the Miko of the Shrine at the edge of the forest occupied more and more of his mind. And Giyuu did not know what it meant or what he should do about it.Â
Sheâd not just repaired his haori or made him salmon; sheâd somehow wormed her way into his every waking thought, and to his great confusion, he found himself almost unwilling to think of anything but her.Â
Admittedly, Giyuu Tomioka did not have the requisite tools in his social arsenal to successfully navigate human interaction. He hadnât quite known the extent of his ineptitude however, until the Insect Pillar had so cheerfully pointed out that none of his comrades, in fact, liked him. That revelation had made him doubt every interaction heâd had since, made him wonder whether even the lower ranked Slayers viewed him with the same apathy, if not the same outright hostility toward him shared by Shinazugawa and Iguro.
Heâd come to doubt them all â except her.
Y/N was different; at the end of each visit to the Shrine, the Water Pillar did not find himself feeling drained or unwanted.  He felt lighter; rejuvenated, even. She was a breath of fresh air that Giyuu found more difficult to go without with each passing day.Â
She still picked at him, but she did so without the malice heâd normally come to expect, even from those he considered friends, like the Kocho. The young Miko had a way of teasing him that did not leave him feeling decidedly othered. Rather, her japes only spurred him to respond with his own, though admittedly, they tended to fall flat.
Heâd known, from the moment sheâd attempted to bludgeon him with her broom, that there was more to the Miko than met the eye; but he hadnât imagined heâd find himself as drawn to her as he was, unable to tolerate going more than a handful of weeks without paying her a visit.
And, given the way sheâd blushed after heâd thanked her for repairing his haori, perhaps she was drawn to him, too. Perhaps he hoped she was.
But he would have to wait to find out, for his obligations to the Corps had taken him to a village a considerable distance away from his designated territory. Heâd been tasked with investigating a series of disappearances of young women in the region, but his orders had come abruptly enough that heâd not been able to spare a visit to the Shrine before he departed.
He was anxious â eager â to return, though not before he took care of the demon likely behind the mystery plaguing the village he now patrolled.
Nightfall was still a little ways off, and so Giyuu found himself wandering the streets to pass the time. He made his way to a sizeable outdoor market, still packed with shoppers oohing and ahhing over vibrant displays of silk, crafted jewelry, and sugary confectioneries.
Idly, he too, joined other patrons in browsing the small vending stands that lined the bustling village streets, though his perusal was disinterested, if not bored. But his eyes snagged on one small bauble displayed on the merchantâs small stand upon a swath of silk. It was small; unassuming. But the carefully crafted decoration was painted in a startling shade of crimson that he found hard to ignore.Â
The image of a certain Miko flashed through his mind. He couldnât leave without it. he wouldnât; not when its paint so perfectly matched the color of Y/Nâs hakama trousers.
I spend the year longing for autumn. That was what sheâd told him, that day on the hillside after sheâd repaired his haori.Â
He almost smiled to himself. This would be a way for her to enjoy her favorite season even in the scorching heat of summer or the biting cold of winter.Â
He waited for the merchant to notice his presence, his fingers twisting around the small money sack he kept tucked in his pocket. His eyes flickered back to the small trinket. Idly, Giyuu wondered when heâd begun associating the color red with the shrine maiden and not with the blood heâd always imagined stained his hands.Â
He continued to stare the merchant down until he finally managed to catch the vendorâs eye, who flinched at the intensity of his unblinking stare.  Â
Giyuu jutted his chin toward the small token. âHow much?âÂ
â-
He found the Miko a few mornings later, relaxing on the hillside overlooking the Shrine. She laid amongst the late summer wildflowers that had bloomed, her form framed against the grass with petals of soft blue and bright marigold.Â
Giyuu wordlessly settled beside her, and he tried to ignore the thunderous beat of his heart against his sternum as she rolled her head toward him to greet him with a sleepy smile. They exchanged pleasantries and settled into a comfortable silence, both content to watch the sun rise higher over the horizon.
Easy; it was so easy for him to sit beside her, like it was the most natural thing in the world.Â
âSo, you are to take over the Shrine, one day?â
Y/Nâs head turned to the Water Pillar in surprise; though heâd grown steadily more talkative over the months since sheâd met him, it wasnât often that he initiated conversation.Â
She settled back against the cool grass of the hilltop overlooking the Shrine, enjoying the precious few moments of quiet in the early morning before the chaos of the day called her away. âYes,â though there was a slight uncertainty in her voice. âIâm sure itâs the expectation, after all. I have to repay Granny for her kindness.â
Giyuu frowned. âBut is that what you want?â
âWhat I want is irrelevant,â the Miko folded her arms behind her head and tilted her face up toward the sky. Her eyes tracked the great, fluffy clouds that drifted lazily by, though the Water Pillar suspected she was attempting to avoid having to meet his eye.Â
âItâs not irrelevant,â he countered. âIf nothing else, you should be allowed to consider other possibilities.â
She did not answer him, and the silence between them stretched enough that he thought to drop the subject, not wanting to press her any further.Â
âI think,â she said in that faraway voice that Giyuu had come to learn meant she was trying to conceal some deeply felt emotion. âI think should like to belong somewhere.â Her eyes shone. âNo, thatâs not it â I want someone to belong to me, and I to them.Â
âA husband.â He said flatly.Â
The Miko shook her head. âI have never belonged to anywhere or to anyone. Iâve no family to call my own - only an old woman who took pity on me as an infant and raised me. I wonder â what must it be like?â She laid back on the grass and closed her eyes. âThat is the one thing I would change. I belong nowhere because Iâm no one â nobodyâs.âÂ
âIt is true,â she insisted, though she said it with such ease and conviction, like it was the most obvious and natural thing in the world. âI am here for a moment and then I will be gone, and no one will ever know or remember that there once was a shrine maiden named Y/N here. Iâve made peace with that.â
I would, Giyuu wanted to tell her. I would remember and I would tell them all.Â
âI am nobody as well,â Giyuu admitted quietly after a moment. âAnd I have no one left to belong to.âÂ
The image of her face, so kind and sad and full of understanding at his words, had stayed with him for the rest of the morning and even as he settled in for a few hours of sleep in the Shrineâs guest wing. Â
And in his dreams, her face remained a constant.
â
The sky had turned a vivid shade of orange by the time the Water Pillar emerged from his guest lodgings, ready to depart and resume his duties. Y/N had been helping another shrine maiden tote firewood across the courtyard when she heard a quiet call of her name.
She turned and saw the raven-haired Swordsman standing near the great Torii gate.Â
She looked back to her fellow trainee, who waved her off with a knowing smile, and Y/N brushed her hands clean against her hakama pants before she approached him.Â
âLeaving so soon?â And she tried to mask her disappointment at the shortness of his visit.Â
Giyuu nodded. âWeâve been stretched thin, in light of a fewâŠchanges to our ranks.â
The Miko nodded grimly. Heâd told her that a fellow Hashira had been slain a few months prior, and another had retired following a rather violent battle that had destroyed part of a far off city.
âBut I wanted to give you this.â
She glanced down to his outstretched hand, where a small parcel was wrapped in plain furoshiki cloth. Stunned, she took the package from him, her eyes flicking between it and the Water Pillar watching her intently.
Gingerly, she unfolded the bundle and unveiled a long, but fragile metal and wood reed.
A hairpin, she realized with a soft gasp. Y/N could scarcely bring her fingers to run over the exquisitely crafted ridges of the leaves that adorned the top portion of the pin, afraid that even the slightest pressure from her touch would cause the Water Pillarâs precious gift to her to crumble.Â
I spend the year longing for autumn, sheâd told him. She hadnât thought heâd been particularly interested in listening to her talk; but as Y/N cradled the delicate ornament between her palms, she felt a blush begin to creep across her cheeks.Â
As her fingers traced across the delicate ridges of a cluster of maple leaves, lacquered in a thick coat of scarlet paint â a perfect match to the hue of her traditional Miko hakama pants â Y/N realized that perhaps Tomioka had been paying more attention to her than sheâd realized.Â
For the Water Pillar had given her a piece of autumn to hold onto year-round.Â
âTomioka-san, you do not-âÂ
âGiyuu.â The ravenette interrupted her. âPlease, call me by my name; itâs Giyuu.âÂ
Y/Nâs mouth closed, but she smiled softly, considering. âAlright. Giyuu â please, you do not need to feel obligated to bring gifts for us â it was only salmon.âÂ
But Giyuu only shook his head. âI donât bring gifts for everyone; just you.âÂ
Y/N turned scarlet.Â
âPlease, just-â Giyuu frowned, and Y/N could have sworn she saw the faintest glow of pink coloring the Hashiraâs cheeks. âJust take it.âÂ
âOkay,â her voice resembled a mouseâs squeak as she cradled the pin delicately between her hands. âThank you. Itâs beautiful.âÂ
âAnd it wasnât just salmon.âÂ
Y/N looked to him in surprise, her head cocked in curiosity. âPardon?âÂ
Giyuu exhaled harshly through his nose before stepping closer to her. âThis is not only because you made salmon.â Her eyes tracked his hand as it rose to grip the front fold of his haori in his fist. âThis â this is all I have left of my family.âÂ
âMy sister,â he gestured to the red half of his haori. âShe died protecting me.â His hand drifted to the green and orange patterned half of the garment. âAnd this belonged to a dear friend. He also perished protecting me â and others.â
The Mikoâs lips parted, understanding and sorrow flooding her eyes. âTomioka-san â Giyuu â I had no idea ââ
âThey both died because of demons â because I could not help them. And now this is all I have left to remember them by.â And then he did the unthinkable; he grabbed her hand and pressed it against the checkered portion of his haori, right over his heart. His hand was warm and firm. Gentle, though she could feel his callouses against her knuckles as he held it in place. âSo it wasnât just salmon.â He repeated, and there was a heat in his eyes Y/N had not seen before, one that stoked a fire in her belly. âAnd you are not just anyone.âÂ
A soft exhale blew past her lips at the sincerity of his words. For the first time in all her nineteen years, she wondered if this was what it meant to mean something to someone.
âThank you,â she breathed, eyes wide and sparkling with unshed emotion. âI will treasure it.â
She swore she saw a faint blush creep across the Water Pillarâs cheeks, but she brushed it aside as nothing more than the shadows of the sky as twilight darkened the horizon.Â
Tomioka nodded. âI must get going now; I will see you soon.â
She did not want him to go.
But the shrine maiden concealed the pang she felt in her chest with a breezy smile. âFarewell, Tomio-â
âGiyuu.âÂ
She blushed. âYes â Giyuu. Until next time.â
â
âI cannot believe he lets the old woman charge him an arm and a leg to stay a single night,â Miyoko said in awe as the pair watched the retreating form of the Water Pillar through the shrine house gates.Â
The hairpin clutched tightly in her hands suddenly felt like a stone weight. âIâm sure he stays here only for convenienceâs sake,â Y/N replied airily, turning sharply away from the egress to the shrine to hide her warming cheeks. Â
Miyoko snorted. âHardly. The Demon Slayer Corps has tons of safehouses throughout the country. Corps members get medical treatment, hot meals, and lodging free of charge.â Y/Nâs sister-in-training grunted as she heaved a hefty bag of rice flour from the storeroom to the girlsâ side, no doubt hauling it out to prepare the evening meal.Â
âIâve heard of at least four such houses in this region alone. As a Hashira, Tomioka-sama could go to any one of them and be treated far more kindly than he is here.âÂ
Y/N frowned. âI wonder why, then, he continues to return here so often? Surely our shrine is some distance from his home, given that he stays the night each time.âÂ
Miyoko shot the young shrine maiden a knowing glance. âPerhaps he tolerates the Grannyâs abuse because he is fond of the company.âÂ
Y/N only felt her face grow hotter as she ducked down, though she felt Miyokoâs amused stare burn through her back.Â
â-
The Water Pillar had returned from his intel assignment and promptly journeyed to the Shrine, its inhabitants abuzz as they prepared for the arrival of autumn and the colder months, now only mere weeks away.Â
He found the shrine maiden of his interest inside the main wing of the manor, back in the kitchen as she prepared herbs to be incorporated into various salves and medications. Y/N smiled brightly at him as heâd sidled up beside her, taking a handful of dried greenery from the bunch next to her and deftly pulling the leaves from the stem and handing them to her.Â
âIs it your day off?â The Miko gratefully accepted the leaves heâd stripped and dumped them into the rocky mortar to join the others.Â
Giyuu felt his stomach clench as his fingers brushed against hers. âI have completed my duties for the time being, yes.â
"You're welcome to help me, as long as you do not mind a bit of busy work."
He didn't; of course he didn't. In fact, as he accepted the heavy stone pestle from the Miko and set to work mashing the leaves she handed them into the mortar, Giyuu rather supposed he would do just about anything to remain in the shrine maiden's company, even if that meant assisting her in a task as banal as grinding medicinal herbs. And though the Slayer and the Miko fell into their well-practiced habit of quietly tending to Y/N's duties side by side, there was a notable absence of the bright chatter he'd grown accustomed to hearing during his visits.
The Water Pillar frowned. âYouâre quiet.â It was not a question. âThere is something on your mind.âÂ
âIs there?â Y/N hummed loftily, her hands continuing to strip leaves from their stems. âPerhaps I am simply focused.âÂ
Giyuu found his eyes wandering to the side to study the Mikoâs face more often than usual. Though she maintained a pleasant smile as they worked, he could see that it did not fully reach her eyes. And even her sage expression could not conceal the way the troubled look in her eyes, hands pausing their work as she stared at something behind the walls of the small shrine kitchen.Â
âSomething is bothering you.â Giyuu took the bundle of herbs clutched in her hands and replaced them with his pestle, allowing her to work her frustrations over the paste forming at the bottom of the stone bowl.Â
She blushed and refocused her gaze, grinding the pestle hard. âNothing is wrong!â She chirped.Â
âYou are a dreadful liar.â
The Miko replied with an airy laugh that made his throat tighten. âSo Iâve been told â often, in fact.âÂ
âThere isâŠtrouble in the village,â Y/N said carefully, though she kept her hands busy as she continued to grind herbs into a thick paste. âIt is nothing we canât handle, but it has put many of us on edge. Particularly Granny.âÂ
Giyuu frowned as he handed the shrine maiden another bunch of leaves from her basket. âWhat sort of trouble?âÂ
She hesitated. âIt is petty village drama, nothing more.â
âYou wonât give any further details?âÂ
The Water Pillar could not explain it, but he found himself troubled by the way the Shrine Maiden forced a smile and a far too casual shrug of her shoulders. âThere are none worth re-hashing.âÂ
He frowned, but he did not press her further, resolving instead to poke around later. Perhaps he would see whether the Shrineâs head Priestessâs tongue was as loose with information as it was with vulgarity once sheâd properly indulged in her sake; heâd make certain she was well-stocked in advance.Â
Giyuu furtively glanced back at the shrine maidenâs profile, in part to see whether he could deduce anything from her expressions, but he found himself instead studying her, puzzling over a change in her appearance he hadnât noticed before.
Sensing his stare, the Miko turned to him with a light smile that then faltered. âWhat â?â
âYou changed your hair.â It took everything within him not to reach out, to see if her hair would feel as silky in his fingers as it looked shifting softly in the wind. âIâve never seen it down.âÂ
âOh!â Her smile turned bashful, a pretty pink dusting spreading across her cheeks. âI wanted to wear my hairpin â see?âÂ
She turned her head, the long curtain of her hair rippling smoothly with the movement. With her back to him, Giyuu could see the pin heâd given her neatly tucked into the long strands of her hair, pinning half of it back. The red of the pinâs maple leaves posed a lovely contrast with the hue of her hair.Â
Y/N was already quite beautiful, but with her hair partially down, he thought she looked softer; younger. She peeked over her shoulder at him, fingers nervously combing through her tresses. âItâs not practical for every day, of course, but I thought since youâd likely be arriving soon ââÂ
His eyes widened and Giyuu became acutely aware that his heart now thumped wildly in his throat as Y/N choked off with a squeak, apparently realizing what sheâd revealed. Though she hurriedly turned back around, Giyuu could see how the tips of her ears burned bright red.Â
Despite her efforts, her admission hung like a cloud in the air between them. Sheâd worn it â the hairpin â for him.Â
Giyuu swallowed thickly. âI like it.â He cleared his throat and turned, allowing his own unruly hair to obscure his face. âOn you, that is.âÂ
For once, the Miko had neither a quick remark nor barb to lob back at him. Instead, she only turned back to her task of grinding her herbs, a thick curtain of her hair concealing her face from his sight.
Once she'd finished bottling up her new medicinal salves, Giyuu helped her carry the tins to the Shrine's storage house, directly across the courtyard from its main wing. The shrine maiden remained curiously quiet, even in spite of his own lame attempts to converse with her. He'd finally given up after his dry comment about the weather went ignored. But every so often, he let his eyes wander to her as they returned to the honden, and that nagging feeling returned as he watched her gnaw incessantly at her bottom lip, a faraway look in her eyes.Â
Giyuu was not a nosy man, but the Miko's clear distraction unsettled him. He was about to pull her aside, to demand she tell him exactly what it was that had chased away the smile he so longed to see when they were approached by Y/N's haughty Master.
âLord Tomioka,â the head Priestess nodded curtly at him in greeting. âI am glad to have run into you â I am in need of your assistance.â
Y/Nâs mouth opened to protest but the head Priestess cut her off. âNow.â
To his surprise, the shrine maiden did not argue with her Master, only turning to him to give him a helpless shrug before she began to make her way toward the Shrineâs honden.Â
The Water Pillar grimaced. He tried to convince himself the pit in his stomach was only because her odd behavior gnawed at him; that he was only curious to learn what it was that troubled her. But as the Miko cast one last, reluctant look over her shoulder at him, Giyuu found that he was as unwilling to watch her go as she was to leave.Â
If the Shrineâs head priestess noticed his inner anguish, she paid it no mind. âYou will accompany me in the kitchen.â
â-
The first thing he noticed was the conspicuous absence of the scent of sake, which heâd grown accustomed to following the Priestess around like a pungent cloud of perfume. He resisted the urge to scowl; he would have to find another way to get the old woman to talk.
Giyuu followed the woman into the small structure that stood adjacent to the honden that served as the Shrineâs kitchen. He watched silently as she pulled a cleaver, large and deadly sharp, free from where it was stored in a cabinet and laid it atop a butcherâs block. The elder stepped outside of the kitchen and returned a moment later, a recently de-feathered and skinned chicken in hand.
âThings around here seemâŠtense,â Giyuu observed carefully as the old woman slapped the chicken on the counter for preparation.Â
âTense is one word for it, I reckon,â she bit, taking up her cleaver. âThe world we live in is dark. I should think you would know that better than most.â
The corner of his mouth dipped down. âBut even your girls seem unusually subdued; distracted.âÂ
Her eyes flashed to his, piercing and sharp. âYou mean Y/N.â
It wasnât a question.Â
âShe is always restless this time of year,â the old woman sighed. âThough she loves autumn, she despises winter â or, rather, she despises how it reminds her of what she does not have. And winter is well on its way.âÂ
He nodded, recalling what the shrine maiden had revealed to him that day, on the hillside.
âBut your observation is correct â that is not all of the reason she is so distracted,â the old Priestess said darkly, and Giyuu was surprised to see how alert and focused the normally soused elder seemed. âA man from the village â Susumo â has been following her. Demanding her.âÂ
Giyyu straightened. âWhat do you mean by âdemand?ââÂ
The haggard woman cursed below her breath as she broke down the chickenâs body. âI mean in the way that men often feel entitled to women â especially angry drunks like him.âÂ
Every hair on Giyuuâs body stood straight as the weight of the Priestessâ warning settled.Â
âI have forbidden her from venturing out in the dark alone,â the Granny continued, harshly wrenching a joint on the fowl.Â
âShe is a Priestess in training; surely that status affords her some protection?â Giyuuâs knuckles turned white where his fists clenched at his sides.Â
âIâm not sure the shrine is enough to keep him out for much longer. Heâs been lingering â and threatening consequences, if I do not agree to hand her over to him for marriage.â The old Priestess grimaced. âHer status does her no good if he burns this place to the ground.âÂ
The old woman set her cleaver next to her with a heavy thud, her frustration palpable. âThe girl is of age, and I am not her blood family; there is no one here who can claim authority over her, not like a parent or an elder sibling.â When her eyes lifted to his, Giyuu could see a hint of fear underlying the hard anger in her gaze. âThese days, I half-expect to awaken and find that sheâs been stolen in the night.âÂ
The Water Pillar felt his jaw clench. It was rare that he felt the burning flush of anger and it was not directed at a demon, but the idea that Y/N was being harassed and threatened by some village drunkard who felt entitled to her, lit something hot in his stomach. For as vexatious and confounding as he found the young Miko to be, no one deserved to be stalked like prey.Â
Especially her.Â
âIâve had a crow stationed here to alert me of any demon attacks for months,â Giyuu began, and the old woman looked to him in surprise. âBut I will assign more to keep watch during the day. If there is anything strange afoot, they will tell you.â He paused a moment before adding, âAnd they will alert me, too.â
The head Priestess laid down her cleaver to look at him, long and hard. âThen she may have a fighting chance yet, Lord Hashira.â
ââââ-
By the time he found Y/N once more, dinner was over and the moon had risen high in the night sky, casting the shrine grounds in its pale, silvery glow.
Heâd told her, rather tersely, that he was unable to stay the night, and he tried to ignore how his chest tightened at the crestfallen look that flashed across her face. Despite her tangible disappointment, she insisted on escorting him out of the Shrine, desperate to cling to every second that might be spared to them.
âYou are rather quiet tonight,â the Miko observed, walking him to the grand Torii. âMore so than usual.â It was an understatement; the Water Pillar had been downright sullen and withdrawn from the moment heâd returned from whatever takes Granny had insisted she help him with.Â
Rather than give her any explanation, Giyuu halted his step and reached for her wrist, stilling her. âYou did not tell me you were being harassed.âÂ
She looked up to the Water Pillar in surprise. âHow did you â?âÂ
He released her from his grip in favor of drawing closer to her. âWhy didnât you tell me?âÂ
Y/N opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find her words. âI suppose,â she began, but her mouth quirked down in a frown. âI did not think you needed to be burdened by something so insignificant.âÂ
Giyuu stared at her as he mouthed the word insignificant, the look he shot her giving the distinct impression he thought her an idiot. âI do not think your safety is insignificant,â Giyuuâs hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, clenching it tight. âNor do I think you are insignificant.âÂ
âCompared to your other obligations? I should think Iâm very unimportant.â Y/N turned away from him, fiddling with a gathering basket she carried on her hip to avoid having to look him in the eyes.
But the raven-haired Pillar caught her wrist and turned her back to face him, not willing to be ignored. âIf you call for me, I will come to you.âÂ
Y/Nâs heart lurched at the Water Pillarâs words, spoken with such conviction and sincerity that it made her falter in her step. âTomioka-san,â she said breathlessly, her eyes wide as she turned to him. âYou have far more important duties to see to than to concern yourself with than mere village drama ââ
But the raven-haired Hashira only shook his head as he took another step towards her, his expression severe; calculating. âYou have the knife I gave you, yes?â His eyes dropped to her pocket, and Y/N felt compelled to show him that the small blade was indeed tucked safely within the folds of her hakama pants.Â
âGiyuu,â she pled, and she noted the way that he twitched towards her at the sound of his name falling from her lips. âPlease, donât worry ââ
âI do not make promises I cannot keep,â the Water Pillar cut her off, closing the distance between them until the tips of his zori nearly grazed hers, his head bent down towards her as the heat of his stare threatened to consume her. âSo I repeat: if you call for me, I will come to you.âÂ
Any thought of arguing faded from her mind as Y/N became keenly aware of the lack of space between their bodies, of the way her hands, clasped in front of her chest brushed against the folds of his haori as it shifted softly with the wind.Â
âI understand,â she breathed. Y/N held his gaze for a long moment, though it was in part due to the battle waging within her not to allow her eyes to drop to his lips.
She would not let herself acknowledge how close they were; how soft they looked, or how warm they might feel against hers; her skin.Â
Giyuu lingered as well; after a pregnant pause, he finally stepped back, blinking as though coming out of a trance. âGood,â he nodded, and he glanced furtively over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed and he nodded as though satisfied before he turned crisply on his heel to begin his trek towards his duties and away from her. âDo not forget.â He called one last time over his shoulder, before the shadows of the woods swallowed him whole.Â
As Y/N dazedly made her way back towards the shrine, a crow following closely behind her, she almost laughed at the suggestion she could.Â
ââ-
Autumn, 1915
The weeks passed by without much fuss, and soon, the palpable tension that had settled over the Shrine as a result of Susumoâs lingering threats subsided. Soon, life at the Shrine returned to normal, and Y/N often found her mind wandering to thoughts of raven hair and endless blue eyes.Â
Until that night.
It had been a normal evening at the Shrine; autumn, blissful autumn had arrived, heralding forth crisp winds and golden skies. Though the days were steadily growing shorter, Y/N found herself rejuvenated by the new chill, especially as she watched the leaves of the trees shift from green to gold to ruby.Â
The leaves on her hairpin indeed had been a perfect match to those which were steadily drifting from the tall maples dotting the Shrine. Though she couldnât wear her hair down the way she had the last time the Water Pillar paid the Shrine a visit, Y/N had found new ways to incorporate his gift into her daily life, weaving it through her plait or tucking it behind her ear.Â
That night had been one like any other; after dinner, the girls of the Shrine had scattered to tend to their evening duties. The shrine maiden had been walking alongside her Master, planning for the upcoming festival in the nearby village, during which the Shrine would seek new patrons to keep it operational. The women mulled over which families might be more inclined to assist them, and settled on a prominent merchant known to frequent other shrines on his travels through the country.
That was when theyâd spotted the smoke.
âFire!â A shrill voice cried, and both the old Priestess and Y/N blanched. âThe honden is on fire!â
All at once, chaos broke out across the Shrine grounds as girls darted to and fro, frantic. Granny began barking at her charges, ordering the younger ones to gather in the courtyard while instructing the older girls to assist in putting out the flames.
"The granary!" Someone else cried. "The granary has gone up in flames!"
The elder Priestess snatched Y/N's wrist in her weathered hand. âThe scrolls!â Granny's expression of horror was a sure match to her own. âTheyâre in the storeroom near the granary!âÂ
The scrolls in question had been in the Shrineâs custody for over five hundred years, carrying sacred inscriptions of the gods and prayers essential to its operation and legitimacy.
They were priceless; irreplaceable.Â
âIâll go!â And before her Master could protest, the Miko had already turned away and began sprinting toward the fire that was rapidly engulfing the granary near the back of the property. Â
Thankfully, the storeroom had yet to catch fire, but if the one steadily consuming the granary was not dealt with soon, it wouldnât be long before it spread to consume the small wooden hut.Â
And Y/N knew it wouldnât take much to reduce the storeroom to ash.Â
Coughing, she pressed her arm to her nose and mouth, using the large bell sleeve of her kosode to block some of the smoke that burned her eyes and nose. She pulled her other sleeve over her hand to protect it as she pushed the storehouseâs door aside.Â
Inside was dark; quiet. Though the nighttime made it difficult for her to see the scrolls and prints carefully rolled and tucked away into tiny cubbies lining the hutâs walls, Y/N wasnât stupid enough to waste time searching for a candle to light. So, with only the flames eating away at the granary at her back to light her way, she began pulling handfuls of scrolls free from their storage, tucking them under her arm.Â
She turned to take her first armload of priceless Shrine artifacts from the storeroom and nearly tripped over a collection of heated coal pans that had been stacked in the corner to keep the scrolls sealed within the room at a stable temperature. She managed to hold onto her scrolls, however, and she quickly moved them away from the hut, placing them safely on a nearby rock that was still far enough away from the storeroom should it catch fire. She returned to the hut to survey what else she needed to salvage, but a familiar, tiny yelp and the flurry of movement in her periphery made the Mikoâs stomach twist.
âKomatsu!â Y/N turned and saw the anxious younger girl lingering at the storage hutâs door, her tiny hands trembling. âGet away from here! Itâs not safe!âÂ
âB-but Sister,â the girl cried, hopping anxiously from foot to foot. âThis is too much to do on your own ââ
âYou need to go find Granny,â the shrine maiden ordered. âI will join you in a moment.â
The girlâs lower lip wobbled. âBut â,â
âNow!â
With a great sniff, the girl turned away, leaving Y/N alone once more. The Miko sighed and resumed her hasty perusal of the hutâs shelves, searching for anything else that could not be replaced.Â
There was a rustling near the doorway and Y/N bit her lip in an effort not to swear in front of her younger peer. âKomatsu, what did I say ââÂ
She turned to admonish the girl, but her reprimand dried instantly on her tongue. For there, in the entryway to the storeroom, was Komatsu, her eyes wide and her face bone-white with a terror that matched Y/Nâs own.
Because the girl was not alone.
Wrapped around her bicep was a hand, as large as a small boulder, and tipped with long, wicked claws that threatened to pierce Komatsuâs bicep. The hand was attached to a forearm, inhumanly thick and muscled. Slowly, Y/Nâs eyes dragged up the length of the monstrous arm to behold the sinister face that grinned at her.Â
It was Susumo â only it wasnât Susumo. Y/N recognized the vague features of the face that had once belonged to the village drunk and her personal tormentor. His hair was the same as was the general shape of his face, and the cruelty of his smirk, but that was where the resemblance to the Susumo sheâd once known ended.
Now, he boasted a row of sharp fangs that distended nearly to his lower lip. And his eyes â no longer were they a cold, soulless black; now they were crimson red, and his pupils were cut into catlike slits.
Demon. A voice whispered in her mind. Demon.
âEnjoy my fires, Priestess?â Even Susumoâs voice had changed, forming a growl that matched his monstrous appearance. âI set them for you â I knew you would not be able to resist seeing such a spectacle.â
âKomatsu,â Y/N ignored him in favor of addressing the young girl, though her voice was unusually high though she fought to keep it as steady as possible. âPlease go find Granny and help her with the honden.âÂ
The young trainee trembled but Susumoâs clawed hand only tightened around her arm. âIâm afraid I canât allow that, sweet Priestess,â the demon crooned. âYou have something I want, you see.â
The slick, oily look in his eyes made his desire clear.
Y/Nâs eyes darted quickly around the hut, finally falling on a series of coal pans stacked to the side of the room, only a few feet from where she stood, paralyzed. Her quick, cursory glance at the pans revealed iron that was slightly red, and she swore she could see the air around them distorted by the heat.
Hot; they were still hot.
The Miko looked back to where the demon continued to leer at her, ravenous. âFine,â she said coolly. âI will go with you, Susumo.â
Komatsu looked between her and the demon in horror, but Y/N only kept her eyes locked with the demonâs. She edged closer to where the coal pans were still burning hot, eyes not daring to drop his as she drew closer to the demon and the younger trainee. He grinned, revealing cruelly sharp and bloodstained teeth, and his yellow eyes shone with a triumphant smugness, believing the Miko was surrendering to him at last.Â
As she brushed past the pans, Y/N furtively reached out a hand and closed her fingers around one of the handles. âKomatsu,â the Miko kept her eyes carefully trained on the demon. âRun.â
Her hand seized around the coal pan and with every ounce of her strength, she swung it toward the demon. The hot iron of the pan slammed into the side of his head, forcing him to drop his hold on the younger girl. There was a struggle between the older shrine maiden and the demon, who fought to wrench the pan free from her fierce grip, but Y/N would not relent.Â
âRun!â She shrieked at the girl again, and Komatsu darted away. Y/Nâs fingers stretched to close around the tiny lever on the handle of the coal pan, and with a snarl of fury, she managed to latch around it, squeezing it with all her might. The lid of the pan opened and red-hot coals spilled forth over the demonâs head. Susumo howled in fury, and Y/N dropped the pan, letting it crack against his head as she shot past him, desperate to escape the tiny storeroom.
The faster she got into open air, the better chance she had of living.Â
But a claw, sharp and deadly sunk into her bicep, and yanked her back. She could not help the small scream that tore from her throat as she felt his talons rip at her skin and the sleeve of her kosode was shredded into ribbons beneath his nails.
âSister Y/N!â Komatsuâs tiny, terrified voice cried out from several feet ahead.Â
The shrine maiden swallowed her building panic. âGo!â
The little girl hesitated again and Y/N knew she could not follow after her, not without risking her safety once again. With a defiant scream of rage, the shrine maiden tore her arm free of the demonâs razor-like claws, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat as she felt blood run down her arm, hot and thick.Â
The demon grasped wildly at her but found only air. Thinking only of the safety of Komatsu and her fellow trainees, Y/N turned on her heel and ran for the trees, away from the chaos unfolding at the Shrine.Â
And the demon, still snarling and panting and undoubtedly enraged, followed her into the forest.
Shit, shit, shit!
Y/N hurtled over a snarled root as she ran, her life dependent upon every stride as she fled the newly-demented Susumo.
In the back of her mind, the Miko knew her efforts were in vain; because for every inch she managed to gain, the angry demon at her heels seemed to gain a foot.
âYouâve denied me for far too long!â The monsterâs voice growled behind her, far too close for comfort. âI will have you!â
Y/N palmed the small nichirin knife tucked safely within the deep pockets of her hakama pants, and wildly she wondered whether it was possible to decapitate a demon with such a small blade. Perhaps the Water Pillar should have left her a sword. After all, a sword could not really be that different from a broom, and sheâd walloped her fair share of handsy drunkards and would-be thieves with the cleaning tool.
If she lived through the night, she would tell him as much the next time she saw him.
Y/Nâs musings did nothing to help her avoid the root of an old tree that jutted out from the earth, snarling around her ankle and sending her flailing to the forest floor. Angry tears of frustration clouded her eyes. Although she knew these paths like the back of her hand, that knowledge did her little good in the dark, as she fled for her life.
Scrambling up to her feet, Y/N caught sight of a pair of eyes watching her from the brambles, dark and inky.
A crow. The image of a certain Hashira flashed before her eyes, as Y/N recalled the way that the members of the Demon Slayer Corps used crows to communicate.
Perhaps this crow was so affiliated, and she was desperate enough to try. âPlease!â Y/N begged, sobbing as the crow stared down at her with those black eyes. âGiyuu!â
âââ
The night had been unusually peaceful for the Water Pillar.
His ambling patrol around his territoryâs perimeter hadnât revealed so much as a whisper of demonic activity. But the absence of any conspicuous threat did not mean his guard was down; his eyes remained sharp, his ear finely tuned, listening for any shift in the wind, any sign that something was amiss and required investigation â
A sudden rustle of leaves sounded from his right, and Giyuuâs hand moved reflexively for his blade, bracing against its hilt in preparation. A small shadow burst from the canopy above him, its wings flapping wildly. He recognized it instantly as the crow heâd assigned to watch over the Shrine â to watch over her.
âDemon attack at the Mountain Shrine!â The crow squawked, circling above him frantically. âDemon attack! Go now â quickly!âÂ
He hadnât hesitated to turn sharply on his heel, furiously making his way toward the Shrine. He broke through the line of trees at its edge in record time, and even heâd been taken aback by the chaos that had broken out.
âThe honden is on fire!â the old woman cried out to the Pillar as he swiftly landed among the chaos unfolding across the shrine grounds. âThe girls were still doing their evening duties â but then another fire was started near the granary!âÂ
âMy crows said a demon had made an appearance,â Giyuuâs eyes carefully scanned the terrified, frantic faces of the Shrineâs residents, his hands braced against the hilt of his sword. âHas anyone been hurt?âÂ
The head Priestess stared at the Water Pillar in muted horror. âI have not seen â but I havenât taken any headcount of the girls to know ââÂ
A piercing cry from near the south gate of the Shrine cut the old woman off, and both Priestess and Slayer whipped toward the sound. A girl, no more than nine, was half-running, half-stumbling toward them, frightened tears streaking down her face.Â
âKomatsu!â the old Priestess blanched as she caught sight of the small apprenticeâs busted, bloodied lip. With a sob, the young girl flung herself into her elderâs arms and clung tightly to her. âWhat on earth â?âÂ
âSister Y/N!â the girl called Komatsu wailed, and Giyuu felt himself go cold. âGranny â th-that man â heâs a monster!â
The head Priestess paled in recognition. âSusumo?â Giyuuâs gut clenched at the name. The old woman knelt before the girl, her hands clutching wildly at her slim shoulders as she shook her lightly to recenter her. âKomatsu, was Susumo the monster?âÂ
The young girl nodded. âHe was so â hiccup â fast! I didnât even see him!â She only cried harder. âAnd t-then Sister Y/N â she grabbed the coal pan and dumped it on him until he let go.â Komatsu trembled as she lifted a shaking hand to wipe at her cheeks. âA-and then she t-told me to r-run ââÂ
THe old Priestess caught the girlâs quivering chin in her hand and forced her to meet her eyes. âWhere is Y/N, Komatsu?âÂ
Komatusâs eyes were wide with fear. âShe ran,â she whispered. âInto the woods â b-but Granny â she was bleeding ââÂ
The Shrineâs Priestess turned to the Slayer, ready to beg him to follow after the demon and her apprentice, but the Water Pillar was gone. For a brief moment, she feared all hope was lost; that theyâd been abandoned and non one would be able to save the young Miko â her heir â from whatever horrid fate awaited her at the ends of Susumoâs crazed, brutal claws.
She caught a flurry of movement right against the dark line of trees that snagged her attention; a flap of the edge of a mismatched haori, and the glint of a blade being drawn, its wielder already furiously making his way into the shadowy depths of the forest.Â
The Priestess exhaled and clutched her trembling young trainee to her chest. As she soothed the shaken young girl, the old woman prayed the Water Pillar would not be too late.
â
She was fucked; well and truly fucked.
Y/N had no idea how long sheâd spent sprinting furiously through the forest, but she knew she was quickly running out of stamina. Worse, it seemed the demon on her heels knew she was slowing, and was now playing with her. But even his patience seemed to be at its witâs end; for a sudden sharp blow to her back sent the Miko flying several feet forward until she slammed against the uneven, rough terrain of the forest floor.
Y/N gasped for air that would not come as she tried to push herself up. Crawl! Her mind begged her body. Crawl, damn you!
A dark chuckle from behind sent every hair on her body standing straight on end. A hand locked around her ankle and flipped her over until she was nearly nose to nose with the demon crouched over her. âGot you,â he sang, and the moonlight glinted off the sharp edge of his fangs as he grinned.Â
Her fingers found the handle of the knife the Water Pillar had gifted her in her pocket. With a determined grunt, she pulled it free and plunged it deep into the meat of his shoulder, praying furiously to any god who would listen that she might have hit an artery so that he would bleed out.Â
The demon loosed an enraged scream and fell away from her, hands blindly fumbling for the blade. Â
No longer pinned beneath him, Y/N scrambled back. Her hands scraped against the broken brush and pebbles below her in her desperate attempt to put distance between herself and the demon rising to his feet ahead of her, snarling. As he began advancing toward her, Susumo gripped the knife sheâd buried in his shoulder and with a grunt, he wrenched it free and tossed it carelessly to the side, right along with the last shred of any hope sheâd had of making it out of the woods alive.
The demonâs mouth curled into a cruel, savage grin, the moonlight glinting off his long, wicked fangs. âIâm going to enjoy this,â he growled, saliva dripping down his chin as his nostrils widened to scent her blood and her fear.Â
This was it; there was nowhere for her to run, no weapon she could try and protect herself with. There was nothing she could do; she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Just as Susumo drew upon her, close enough that she could smell the rancid, pungent odor of rotted meat on his breath, he stumbled back, startled.Â
One moment the demon was standing mere inches from her, ready to devour her whole; the next, he was sent sailing back, his body smashing into the trunk of a nearby tree with a sickening thump!Â
A blur of dark matter soared over the Mikoâs head toward the monster. Susumo barely had time to stand before the shadow converged on him once more. There was a flash of light â the moon reflecting off metal â followed by a dull thud. The shrine maidenâs heart lodged in her throat as she watched the head of the former village drunkard roll across the forest floor before distingrating, his body following soon after.Â
She was nearly hyperventilating as the shadow turned to face her, but the pall of the moon finally illuminated the face of her savior â her Water Pillar.
âG-Giyuu,â she stuttered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears of relief that washed over her all at once.
But Giyuu did not respond, his lapis eyes narrowing in on the dark stain spreading across the white of her kosode. Y/N cowered at the cold, unbridled rage that contorted the ordinarily stoic Hashiraâs face as he began to shake at the sight of her blood. In a flash, Giyuu had closed the distance between them and knelt down by her side, gripping her wounded arm in his hand as he tried to pull her tattered sleeve down and inspect her wound.
âTomioka â Giyuu,â she pled, trying to wrench her arm from his iron-like grip. âPlease, itâs not that bad ââ
âDid it get you anywhere else?â Giyuu demanded harshly, and the authority underlying his tone made Y/N fall silent for the first time since sheâd known him. âDid it -â the Water Pillar hesitated. âDid it touch you anywhere else?â
Y/N was trembling, and the Hashiraâs hand around her arm tightened. âAh!â She winced. âNo, I promise, Giyuu, itâs just a flesh wound, Iâm fine-,â
âYou are bleeding. You are not fine.â Giyuu snapped back. âYou couldâve been killed, or turned, or -,â the Water Pillar began to hyperventilate, and it shook the young Miko to her core. The Water Hashira was normally so unflappable, so stoic, that his panicked anger frightened her.
â-So do not tell me youâre fine,â Giyuuâs rant continued. âNot when you couldâve â not when I mightâve failed â not again --â
She was at a loss for what to do as she watched the raven-haired man struggle to form words. Vaguely, she recalled the way the Granny-Priestess had once explained to her that when someone panicked, they needed to regulate their breathing, and there were many ways someone could help force another to breathe properlyâŠ
Stomach fluttering, Y/Nâs free hand came up to grip the fold of the Water Pillarâs haori. Giyuuâs incessant rambling only ended when her lips urgently pressed against his own, his eyes going wide. A heartbeat or two passed and then the Miko pulled away, her eyes serious as she stared at the stunned Water Hashira.
âYou need to give me a sword.â She told him, earnestly, her face blazing.
âââ
Giyuu helped her back to the Shrine, though the Miko found herself needing to bat off the Water Pillar with a stern reminder that sheâd only sustained a small arm wound as heâd tried to scoop her up into his arms.
The Swordsman had been rather subdued the entire journey out of the forest, his eyes curiously wide and dazed right until the pair breached the tree line at the edge of the Shrineâs property. The moment they stepped into open ground, they were swarmed by the tearful, relieved faces of the Shrineâs inhabitants. Words of gratitude to him were woven through worries over the Mikoâs arm wound as they made their way across toward the small infirmary which, thankfully, had not been touched by Susumoâs fire.
The honden itself was still standing; though the flames had finally been subdued, smoke still curled up toward the sky, blocking any view of the moon or the stars.Â
The head Priestess waited for them outside the infirmary. Though her face was grave, Giyuu could spy the relief shining in her eyes. He stood numbly by as the Miko and her master regarded each other warily for a moment, before the elder Priestess reached forward and yanked her charge forward into a fierce embrace.
âReckless girl,â she chastised gently against the side of Y/Nâs head. âThank every one of the gods that youâre safe.â The old Priestessâs eyes found those of the Water Pillar. âAnd thank you, Lord Tomioka.â
Y/N was promptly escorted inside to have her wound examined and stitched. Despite the old shrine keeperâs gratitude for his aid in saving the young shrine maiden, that thankfulness apparently did not extend to permitting him inside the infirmary with them, and for good reason. For under the Elderâs withering glare, the Water Pillar realized that Y/Nâs treatment would require her to be stripped of her kosode, leaving her exposed and bare.Â
As unwilling as heâd been to part from her, the thought of witnessing the Miko undressed and vulnerable had been enough to temper his urge to look after her, if nothing else because the mental image of her in such a state flustered him to no end.
Though, he supposed his bewilderment also had something to do with what had transpired between them in the forest.
Kissed him; the shrine maiden had kissed him.Â
His fingers drifted to his lips. They still felt warm where theyâd been graced by hers, and he swore he could still feel the softness of her mouth from where it had brushed against his.Â
He needed to talk to her; he needed to know what the hell sheâd been thinking, kissing him like that.Â
But as shocking as the Mikoâs kiss had been, there was something else, something far heavier, that weighed on his mind.Â
Sheâd nearly been killed. By a demon. On his watch.Â
He shouldâve apologized; he shouldâve begged for her forgiveness for letting her come that close with death. For letting her get wounded because he hadnât been fast enough.
I was concerned for you, he wanted to tell her. I thought I would be too late.
No; concern didnât cover it; did not do near enough justice to his true emotions upon learning the Miko had fled into the dark forest with a hungry, loathsome demon hot on her trail.
Heâd been scared; terrified; almost beside himself at the possibility that heâd be too late and find that sheâd already been reduced to the beastâs meal,Â
Heâd been scared heâd never again see her smile or hear her laugh, and that had terrified him more than anything. For it was the memory of both that soothed his anxious nerves each time he startled awake from visions of his dead loved ones, demanding to know why they had died in his stead.  Â
Heâd feared that he would have to add her face to those he saw when he slept â the faces of those heâd failed to protect, whoâd died for his sake. Heâd been terrified of seeing her image in painstaking clarity, just as he saw the faces of his sister and Sabito every morning.Â
He did not know what to do with them, these confusing feelings, so abundant and intense that theyâd welled up within him and threatened to spill over. He couldnât name them, let alone begin to untangle the knot theyâd formed within his heart. All he knew was that every one of them were inextricably tied to her.Â
His shrine maiden.Â
His.
â
Y/Nâs arm ached, but it had been properly sewn and bandaged, and there was work to do before she could settle in for the night; and so, she found herself helping her peers with cleaning up the courtyard from the debris of the nightâs events.Â
Truthfully, she'd been grateful for the distraction. Occupying herself with cleanup meant she did not have to think about what sheâd done in the forest. But then Granny Priestess saw her trying to heave away broken wood with her freshly stitched arm and Y/N found herself forced to abandon her fellow trainees as the old bat smacked her upside the head and squawked about how she was going to break her stitching and complicate the healing process. Â
The Miko tried not to pout as she retreated, opting instead to grumble over the old womanâs dramatics as her arm stung and her ego throbbed. When she finally returned to her sleeping quarters, exhaustion slammed into her, making her limbs heavy and leaden. Unable to quite rally the energy to crawl into her futon, she slumped against the doorway of the room, her head and her heart a tangled mess of emotions she couldnât quite name.
What sheâd felt the moment the Water Pillar had stepped into the moonlight had been more than mere relief that heâd managed to save her life for the second time. Sheâd felt safe, so unbelievably safe that the forest itself could have been on fire and she wouldnât have been afraid; not as long as he was there with her.
Something between them had shifted; that much was clear. In truth, things likely had begun to change the moment she repaired his haori, and sheâd admitted to him her deep-seated loneliness and lack of belonging.
She only hoped he felt the change, too.
â
Much to Y/Nâs chagrin, autumn was quickly giving way to blasted winter.
Though, the Miko hadnât been able to fully resent the rapid shift in the seasons; repairs at the Shrine had consumed nearly all of her attention, and as Grannyâs heir, she was expected to contribute to its reconstruction more than any other trainee.
That expectation meant Granny left the task of figuring out how to finance the necessary repairs entirely to her young protege. Y/N had spent all of two days agonizing over ways to raise the necessary funds when she awoke to find a mysterious sack of money that had been left on the doorstep of the honden. Inside had been an amount more than generous to cover the cost of repairs from the fire, with a hefty remainder that could be put toward other necessary improvements to spruce the Shrine up, and perhaps restore it to its former glory.Â
No note had been left with the money to indicate the identity of the Shrineâs benefactor. But amid all the excitement of her peers at the thought of being able to afford materials and laborers to assist with the more difficult aspects of the Shrineâs refurbishment, Y/N had spotted a familiar crow perched high in a nearby tree.
That position had afforded the bird with a perfect view of the money sack, allowing it to silently ensure it fell into the proper hands. But repairs had finally slowed, and Y/N now found her days returning to normal. Almost.Â
What was not normal was how agitated she'd become in waiting for his return.
Another week passed without any communication from the Water Pillar, and the Miko had grown desperate for any sort of distraction. She found herself one late, autumn morning passing the time in the Shrineâs garden hut. She was pretending to be searching for tools that would help her prune the wilting Shrine garden when something grazed against the small of her back. Startled, she turned and was greeted by familiar, unruly raven hair and a pair of deep azure eyes.Â
âGiyuu,â his name slid easily off her tongue, and suddenly she could not remember why sheâd called him anything else.Â
A ghost of a smile graced his lips. âHello, Y/N.â
A poignant silence followed, and her cheeks grew hot. "Don't mind me," she said quickly, turning her head away from him as she pretended to organize stray gardening supplies. "I am only just now finishing my tasks for the day."
Though he remained silent, she became acutely aware of the way Giyuuâs eyes followed her as she tried desperately to keep herself busy, to avoid having to meet that piercing, discerning stare.Â
âI did not get a chance to properly thank you after the turmoil of that night,â she said casually. Nervously, she hoped that his heightened senses did not alert him to the way her heart fluttered in her chest, or how her stomach flipped in her gut. Her nails dug into her palms as she lifted her head to meet that unnerving, fathomless stare.
But the Water Pillar had already closed most of the distance between them, having moved so silently sheâd not heard him, despite even the creaky, uneven slatted floor of the garden hut. âHow is your wound?â He asked softly, his hand skirting up the outside of the arm Susumo had wounded. âHas it healed?âÂ
It took a great amount of effort for Y/N to remember how to keep her breathing steady. But she forced her lips into an easy smile as she rucked up the flared sleeve of her kosode to reveal her bicep. âIt will likely scar,â she admitted, her fingers lightly tracing over the three, angry red marks that remained imprinted on her skin, though theyâd fully scabbed over. âI consider myself quite lucky, all things considered.âÂ
âWhy did you do it?âÂ
The Miko ducked her head, willing the sheet of her hair to fall and conceal her mounting blush. She did not need to ask him to clarify; she knew after what he was asking.
But she feigned ignorance all the same. âI donât know what you mean, Tomioka-sama ââÂ
âDonât call me that,â and even though she refused to meet his eyes, she could sense his irritation at her avoidance. âWeâre well past such formalities, Y/N.â Giyuu stepped closer to her, his cerulean eyes melting into something more akin to the midnight blue of the evening sky. âYou kissed me. That night.â The Water Pillarâs hand glided up the arm that Susumo had injured, caressing softly over the healed skin beneath the sleeve of her kosode.
âI-I did no such thing!â Y/N sputtered, though her reddening cheeks betrayed her. âI was only attempting to help you calm down â you were panicking, and inconsolable.âÂ
Giyuuâs responding smirk only served to irritate her more. âShould I thank you then, Y/N?â His hand slid from her shoulder to below her chin, his delicate fingers curling to tilt her head up towards his, as he closed the distance between their bodies. âShould I show you how grateful I am that you were able to assuage my worry?âÂ
Y/N tried to focus on anything but the feeling of Giyuuâs breath â warm and enticing â against her face as he leaned in close. âYou had no reason to worry; I was completely fine before you showed up.âÂ
âFine,â the ravenette scoffed, his grip on her chin tightening slightly. âSo fine that you were bleeding and about to become that beastâs snack â or worse.âÂ
âBut you saved me, did you not?â Y/N whispered, unable to stop her eyes from dropping to the Water Pillarâs sensual, soft-looking mouth before rising once more to meet his punishing gaze. âAnd then I helped you.âÂ
Giyuuâs second hand brushed against her waist and the shrine maiden thought she might leap out of her skin. âYou did,â he conceded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small, half-smile. âThough I apologize that you needed to do so â I suppose I become a little over-zealous when things that are precious to me are threatened.âÂ
Even if she could have thought of some witty remark to throw back at him, those words surely would have been blocked by her heart as it lodged in her throat.Â
Things that were precious to him. She was precious to him.
âSo Iâll ask again, Y/N,â Giyuu whispered, and his nose brushed delicately against hers. âShould I thank you for your assistance?â The fingers beneath her chin stroked her jaw. âShould I kiss you?âÂ
She fought to suppress the excited shudder that licked up her spine. âYes, Lord Hashira,â she breathed, and her stomach turned cartwheels as Giyuuâs gaze dropped to her mouth. âPerhaps you should.âÂ
âWho am I to deny the request of a priestess?â Giyuu murmured, and then his lips were moving against hers, warm and soft. Y/Nâs fingers flew to clutch the Water Pillarâs rocky biceps beneath the soft cloth of his haori, anchoring him against her. The hand that had gripped below her chin slid to the side of her face, tilting her head so that the Water Pillar could have better access to her as he pressed his lips harder against hers.Â
Y/N moaned into his kiss, wanting him closer, impossibly closer to her than he currently was.Â
Giyuu broke away from her once, though he kept a hand on the back of her neck to keep her in place. âWhat are your duties today?âÂ
Y/Nâs fingers curled around the front of the Water Pillarâs haori, her forehead resting against his. âNone of import.â She gave him a sly smile. âNo one will miss me if I am gone for a few hours.âÂ
Giyuu returned her smile with a tiny smirk of his own. âIn that case,â he tugged her hand and he began to lead her towards the grassy overlook where theyâd spent a great deal of time talking and learning one another. âI could use your assistance.â
â
Y/N hadnât greeted the sunrise with the intent to neglect her shrine duties, but she couldnât say she regretted how she ended up spending the day.
They spent the day resting on the hillside overlooking the shrine grounds, rolling back and forth upon the browning grass as they kissed each other again and again.Â
âYou werenât wrong, that day â right after we met,â Giyuu gasped against her lips as they broke apart, the blush on Y/Nâs cheeks a sure match to his own. âI do not find you captivating.â
Y/Nâs eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth parted, a protest on her tongue when Giyuu surged forward, his lips brushing against her neck. The Mikoâs words choked off with a squeak as the Water Pillar danced his lips to the hollow of her throat, his tongue flicking out once right where her heart pulsed wildly.Â
âI think you are utterly transfixing; enchanting,â he breathed against her skin. âYou have cast a spell over me that I do not want broken.â
âI find it hard to believe anyone could wield that sort of power over a Hashira,â Y/Nâs voice was high pitched as Giyuuâs lips made their way back to hers.
In the back of her mind, Y/N wondered if his words were motivated purely by his physical desire for her. It would not have surprised her if he was only so taken with her because he longed to be touched; held. Like him, sheâd gone much of her life without intimacy from anyone. She could not blame him for seeking it from someone so willing to give as she.Â
âBut you are not just anyone, not to me.â was all he replied, his lips moving softly against hers once more. âYou areâŠeverything.â
Y/Nâs breath caught in her throat. The Water Pillars words, dripping like honey from his lips, were only sweetened by the fervent sincerity of his eyes as he pulled back to gaze into hers, so deeply, she felt as though he could see every thought in her head.
She wondered if he lowered that piercing, discerning stare, whether heâd be able to see straight to her heart, too; see how it bore his name.Â
Even though her breath guttered in her throat at his words, her heart clenched painfully in her chest. The idea that sheâd attached more meaning to their relationship than he, that perhaps sheâd overestimated her value to him made her tense, made her want to push him away and â
âYouâre distracted,â Giyuu murmured against her lips, brushing his nose against hers. âYour thoughts are loud.âÂ
Her fingers caught the front fold of his haori, fiddling idly with it. âThere is nothing for you to repay, you know. You do not owe me your time or your attention. I know the Shrine is simply a part of your designated patrol. I understand if its convenience is the only reason ââÂ
A single finger pressed itself against her lips, quieting her. âYou think and talk too much.â The ravenette chastised. Her mouth parted, a protest forming on her lips, when he cut her off again. âAh ah,â Giyuu silenced her with his lips, his tongue flicking out to skim along her bottom lip. Above her, he shifted and allowed his weight to fall against her, pinning her beneath him. Reluctantly, his mouth broke away from hers. âIt is my turn to speak.âÂ
âI do not come to the Shrine because it is easy,â Giyuuâs lips brushed hesitantly against her jaw. âNor do I come here out of any preconceived obligation to repay your kindness.âÂ
He pulled back to study her, panting and flushed beneath him. As his eyes slowly combed over her, Y/N felt a strange knot pull and twist in the depths of her stomach. âThere is only one thing that brings me back here, no matter how exhausted I am after weeks of endless missions; no matter how often certain junior Corps members pester me to train them.â His eyes narrowed at the hollow of the Mikoâs throat, exposed by the way her kosode had shifted as the pair of them rolled around the grass. Curious, Giyuu leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against it.Â
And then he did the unthinkable;Â the Water Pillar moaned, ever so softly, against the fluttering of Y/Nâs frantic pulse. The sound, so rich and full of need â of want â washed over her and drowned out all other thoughts, all other higher reasoning from her mind. INstead, the Miko was left with nothing but the sharp urge to press her thighs together, an unknown heat beginning to pool in her most sacred area.Â
âDo you know what that thing is, Y/N?â He whispered against the soft dip in her throat, his breath hot as it fanned across her skin. âCan you guess what it is I cannot stay away from â could not, even if I desired otherwise?âÂ
His fingers dropped to the collar of her kosode, tracing lightly over its crisp, white fold. âWhen I close my eyes in the mornings, it is your face I see,â he murmured. âIt is your laugh I hear in my dreams; your scent I find myself longing for when I awaken.â
The Miko shivered as his index finger traced from her collar up her throat, over her chin until it came to rest on her bottom lip, gently stroking over its curve. âIt is you I seek to turn to remind myself that there is still good in this world â good still worth protecting. Why is that, Y/N?â His eyebrows furrowed and he seemed almost earnest in his question. âWhy is it that my mind refuses to be occupied by anything but you?âÂ
âBecause I vex you,â she said softly, eyes wide and locked with his. âBecause, try as you might, youâve never been able to fully fit me into a box as you have with others.âÂ
Giyuu shook his head. âVex me?â He tsked at her. âPerhaps once that was true. But now? I desire you in ways I can hardly understand, and it drives me mad.â
Her breath hitched in her throat. âWhat are you saying?âÂ
âI think Iâve been rather clear,â and instinctively, Giyuu rolled his hips against hers, desperate to relieve some of the friction mounting in his groin. âAnd itâs that I want ââÂ
But the Miko did not get to hear what Giyuu wanted; not as he was drowned out by the screeching cry of a bird from high above. Only, this bird was not the dull, graying crow sheâd come to associate with her Swordsman.
âI thought your crow was older?â
The Water Pillar frowned as he turned to look up, his eyebrows drawn together. âThatâs not Kanzaburo â thatâs one of the Masterâs ââ
âCAW,â the bird circled above their heads in narrow, rapid turns. âLord Tomioka! Return to headquarters immediately!â
Giyuuâs jaw clenched. âCan it not wait?âÂ
Y/N, however, only gaped up at the bird flying above them. âIt talks â?âÂ
But the crow only cried again, âEmergency meeting at headquarters!!
With a short, frustrated exhale, Giyuu rolled to the side of the Miko and rose, but not before he extended a hand and helped lift her to her feet.
He gingerly brushed some loose grass from her hair. âIâm sorry.âÂ
She only shook her head as she reached to adjust his haori, righting it in his shoulders. âItâs your duty, Giyuu. I understand that.â
He scowled back up at the bird still circling above them, bleating a refrain of âEmergency! Go now!â
âIâm not finished with this conversation,â Giyuu said plainly, a frustrated hand working through his hair. Though his annoyance was plain as day, it fell away as he looked back to the Miko at his side, his gaze softening. âNor am I finished with you.âÂ
A single finger reached under Y/Nâs chin and lifted her head toward him so he could brush another kiss against her lips. âI will come see you â soon.âÂ
With a shy boldness, the Miko rose on her toes and gave him one final kiss, and Giyuuâs hand tightened where it rested against her waist. âIâll wait for you, Lord Hashira.â
âââ
December, 1915
Y/N cursed at the ancient priestess who insisted on using only gas-powered lanterns rather than the newer, much safer, electric powered lights that other shrines had begun using.Â
âWe are an esteemed shrine dating back hundreds of years,â the old crone had simpered, âTradition has kept us going this far!âÂ
Y/N hadnât helped her cause by asking whether tradition or spite was what kept the hag from dying off and finally leaving her in peace.
And that was how the young Priestess-to-be found herself stomping through the snowy grounds of the Shrine, forced to light each and every lantern by hand using a match and oil, utterly by herself.
She knew better than to levy such an obvious taunt at the old woman, but admittedly, Y/N hadnât been in the best of moods as of late.Â
Giyuu had not returned since that day on the hillside, when heâd kissed her silly and told her he could not stop thinking of her. It was as though he no longer existed; even the crows at the Shrine were no more, having all disappeared one morning before sheâd awoken.
As the weeks passed, the weight of his absence had grown heavier, threatening to beat her into the ground below.Â
But Y/N had done her best to hold her tongue over the last weeks as her anxiety mounted, and Granny shouldâve known that â so really, it was her own fault if sheâd taken offense to the Mikoâs barb.
She grumbled and cursed under her breath as she trudged toward the small garden hut standing at the furthest edge of the Shrineâs grounds â her last stop of the night. She shoved past the old, rickety door and braced her merrily flickering, hand-held lantern out before her, bathing the small hut in a warm, orange glow.
All was silent and quiet within the small storeroom. The air was cold, though the slatted walls of the hut offered some protection from the howling, snow-dotted winds outside. Determined to complete her task and return to the comfort of her warm futon, the Miko fumbled around one of the store shelves for a small can of oil.Â
âItâs you,â a quiet voice startled her from behind, and Y/N nearly dropped the lantern clutched in her hands.
But she did not feel afraid as she recognized the calm, soothing cadence of the voice, that voice that belonged to the one person capable of making her blush.Â
The one person who held her heart.
âItâs been a while, Giyuu. I was wondering when Iâd see you again.â She turned and saw the raven-haired man standing in the doorway of the garden hut, his face characteristically neutral, though he seemed tense, even more so than usual.
Instantly, she moved toward him. âWhatâs wrong?â
His eyes tightened, and the darkness which swam within them betrayed his aloof facade. âThings have changed quickly in my world,â he began, and she saw his fists clench at his sides. âWe believe the demons are preparing for war â and so we have been as well.Â
âWar?â She repeated softly, her step faltering. âI hadnât realized the demons were soâŠorganized.â
Giyuu nodded. âOne creature is responsible for all demons. He is the orchestrator; he is the one we must kill, and we believe the opportunity to do so is drawing nearer.â
The monotonous cadence of his voice fell away as he quietly added, âThat is why I havenât been able to return â weâve been training. This battle â it may start at any moment.â
He made like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself, pressing his lips into a tight line.Â
âAnd?â She prompted gently, taking a solitary step toward him.
âHe hesitated, and she spied how his throat worked to swallow. âAnd I do not know when I will be able to see you again. After tonight.â
Y/N watched him for a moment, her eyes searching his. âWhen you say you donât know âwhenâ we will see each other again,â she began, cautiously. âDo you mean âif?ââ
Giyuuâs answering silence said more than any words could.Â
For a moment, the Miko could not remember how to speak, not as she felt the organ in her chest splinter into a thousand, mismatched pieces.
âI just wanted to see you,â the Water Pillar struggled to swallow around the growing lump in his throat. âOne last time.âÂ
She could scarcely breathe.Â
He was leaving and he might never return.Â
Leaving to go try and put an end to the scourge of demons that plagued their world. It was a noble thing to do; sacrifice in its purest form.Â
But she hated it.Â
She was filled with such a deep melancholy that it nearly brought her to her knees. As the Water Pillar turned to leave, Y/N couldnât stop herself as she reached for him, her arms encircling him as her hands locked over his front, stilling him.
âGiyuu,â she said thickly, her face pressed into the back of his haori as she willed the tears in her eyes not to fall. âGiyuu.âÂ
He turned in her grasp and looked down at her in awe, a finger rising to brush the errant tear that had escaped down her cheek as he held her gaze.Â
The flame within her lantern flickered as Giyuu softly grazed his lips against her own, Y/Nâs arms weaving around his neck to hold him close to her.Â
His hands were gentle, if not a little uncertain as they found her waist, but once they came to a rest against her, he pulled her close, arms winding around her middle and holding her securely against him as he deepened the kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair as she opened up for him, his tongue gliding alongside her own until she was left breathless and wanting.Â
Vaguely, the Miko was aware that he was walking them deeper into the garden hut, allowing the old door to thud shut behind him, and the thought of not returning to her plush futon suddenly did not seem like such a loss.Â
Giyuuâs hands returned to her face, thumbs stroking softly along her cheeks as he broke their kiss to brush his lips against her eyes, her nose, and forehead. Y/Nâs hands parted the Water Hashiraâs haori from his shoulders as Giyuuâs fingers dropped to her collar bone, sliding beneath her kosode, and grazing her bare shoulder.Â
âYou have been my most treasured encounter,â he whispered, and she felt her heart seize in her throat, tears threatening to spill anew from her eyes.
A yearâs worth of interactions had all led to this moment, but it was not the satisfying payoff of the tension and longing that had been steadily building between them.
This was a goodbye.Â
Because it was likely that the Water Pillar would not survive the impending battle; but neither did he want to leave this end untied.Â
She had known, deep in her heart, that this affair had been doomed before it had ever begun, but that hadnât stopped her from falling for the kind, brave, selfless man now kissing her like she was his entire world anyways.Â
She would not get to have him in the morning, so she resolved to give herself to him for the night.Â
Giyuuâs hands eased her kosode from her shoulders, exposing her to the cool air within the garden hut. His warm hands, however, worked to chase away any chill that spread across her skin as he ran his palms over the curve of her shoulders before sliding down to rest on her bare waist, his long fingers grazing just below the curve of her breasts.
Her own fingers trembled as she fumbled with the buttons on his uniform shirt but in time, sheâd worked them open and Giyuu broke their kiss long enough to let his shirt drop to the floor beneath them.Â
The two stood there for a moment, chests rising and falling rapidly, as they looked at one another, half-nude and vulnerable. The shrine maiden and the slayer knew that they had come upon a precipice, and if they stepped off that ledge, there would be nothing to break their fall.Â
Y/N made the first move, taking a tentative step towards the Water Pillar as she trailed her fingers lightly up the beautiful, sculpted ridges of his abdomen, relishing how warm he was beneath her touch.Â
Giyuu shivered beneath her fingertips as the mikoâs hand came to a rest against his sternum, marveling the way his heart thundered beneath her hand. âAre you certain?â He breathed, his face was impassive, but his own uncertainty was betrayed by the slight tremor in his voice. His hand rose to gently cup the side of her face, his thumb ghosting over her bottom lip.Â
She reached to grab the Pillarâs free hand and brought it up to rest against her sternum, mirroring her own hold on him so that he could feel the steady drum of her own heart â and how it thrummed for him. âYes,â she whispered. âIâm yours, Giyuu.âÂ
Once, she had believed the Hashira incapable of expressing anything other than cold aloofness. sheâd not been able to comprehend the subtle ways with which his eyes could signal his mood; how they darkened when angry, or how the outer corners turned up, almost imperceptibly, when he was content.Â
But she had long since learned to read him, and so, her stomach fluttered at the way the raven haired manâs gaze heated with both adoration and desire â for her.Â
Giyu brushed his nose against hers affectionately before bringing their lips together once more, his kiss growing fervent as her hands slid up to tangle in his ebony hair. Y/N gasped into his mouth as she felt Giyu bend down, his hands gripping firmly under her thighs as he lifted her up, forcing her to lock her legs around his waist. Her lips parted, and Giyuuâs tongue slid seamlessly into her mouth.
Her lover locked one steely arm firmly around her lower back to support her as Y/N felt him lower them to the floor to lay her down, the Water Pillarâs free hand coming to brace against the back of her skull, to protect her head from thudding back against the wooden slats of the hut floor. The Miko steadied herself, prepared for the cold bite of the dirty hut floor to nip at the bare skin of her back, but she was only settled against something warm and soft; something that smelled distinctively of the Slayer panting above her.Â
Her fingers dropped to her side and grazed against the familiar fabric of Giyuuâs haori; his most prized and cherished possession, spread out beneath her to protect her from the cold ground, a makeshift bed against which she would let him take her and make her his.
He withdrew his lips from hers to sit back, his cerulean eyes tracing over every inch of her, from the way her dark hair spread out in a soft halo around her, to the blush staining her cheeks. His eyes darkened as they lowered to her bare chest, at the way it rose and fell jerkily as Y/N struggled to control her breathing.Â
Giyuuâs long, slim fingers reached out to trace along the top of her scarlet hakama pants, his finger tips just grazing along her ribs and the underside of her breasts.Â
âIâd never known such -,â He covered his struggle for words by pressing a sweet kiss against the hollow of her throat, a soft gasp escaping the Miko at the unfamiliar sensation. âSuch beauty,â Giyuuâs lips trailed down to skirt across the ridge of her collar bone. âNot until I met you.âÂ
His face was against her sternum, pressing kisses as he trailed his lips down her skin. âI am sorry I could not give you more time.â His voice was soft, softer than even she had ever known. Before she could respond, Giyuuâs mouth hesitantly brushed against the stiffened peak of her breast, and Y/Nâs mouth fell open with a soft cry.Â
Azure eyes flashed up to meet hers. âIs this â is this okay?âÂ
The Miko's eyes fluttered shut as she nodded, unable to trust that she could hold her voice steady if she spoke. Her fingers weaved their way through the Pillarâs thick, raven locks, and she grazed her nails against his scalp in encouragement.Â
Giyuu grunted softly at her touch, and he leaned forward to suck more of her soft mound into his hot mouth, teeth grazing lightly against her nipple as he explored her.Â
âOh,â she moaned, her thighs inadvertently pressing together as Giyuuâs tongue and lips worshipped her bared flesh, licking and sucking and nipping at her in his devotion.Â
âBeautiful,â he murmured against the soft, sensitive skin of her breast. âSo very beautiful.âÂ
He repeated the movement again and again before he traced his mouth across her sternum and began lavishing her other breast with the same fervor. Her hands fisted in his hair as she mewled for him, enamored with the feeling of his hot mouth latched around her. He gave her more and yet it was not enough; every pass of his tongue over her stiffened peak only amplified the ache between her legs, only made the emptiness she felt more pronounced.
A breathy, whining and needy moan blew past her lips in time with a reflexive buck of her hips against his. Â
The ravenette pulled off her breast with a start, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed as he gazed down at her in awe. âDo that again.â
âW-what â?â She pushed herself up on her elbows to look down at him, her chest heaving.
âTell me what to do,â Giyuuâs breath was ragged though his fingers continued trailing down her sides, seeking out the ties securing her bottoms around her waist. âTell me how I might help you make that sound again.âÂ
âI ââ Y/N squirmed beneath the intensity of his gaze, her thighs rubbing together to stifle some of the electricity she felt between her legs. âI want you to â I need you closer.âÂ
Her eyes drifted to the bulge that had formed between the Hashiraâs thighs, and she felt her heart skip in her chest.
Giyuu pressed his groin against hers and ground. She gasped at the spark of pleasured friction the movement stoked between her thighs, and her eyes flew to meet his, only to see they were as wide as hers.Â
And just as hungry.Â
Her hand gently cupped his face. âCloser. Please.âÂ
He pressed his cheek into her palm and with a soft groan, his fingers quickly loosened the fastenings of her bottoms and then he was pushing them down her hips and over her legs, discarding them carelessly to the side. Giyuu sat back on his knees and let his eyes roam her, now fully bare and laid out beneath him.Â
When his appraisal of her finally reached the thatch of curls between her thighs, the Water Pillar loosed a shaky breath. She had half a mind to cross her legs, to conceal the most intimate part of her body from the raging fire of his gaze as he studied her, but she forced herself to remain relaxed; open.
One, broad and calloused hand stretched tentatively out to run along the outside of her hip and down her leg, before smoothing back up in the inside of her thigh. His eyes flicked once to hers, and then he leaned forward and brushed delicate kisses down her abdomen, over her hip and along her thigh. He continued his descent as he slowly pushed himself back from her, and once he imparted one last, sweet press of his lips against her ankle, he rose.Â
The flickering light of the lantern cast shadows along the alabaster of his skin, further accentuating how the muscles of his torso and abdomen flexed and shifted as he worked to free himself of the remainder of his clothes. His eyes did not leave hers, not even as his hands found the buckle of his belt and tugged it loose, and Y/N found herself free falling into their depths.
The ravenette dropped his belt to the floor, and then his fingers were at the waistband of his trousers, pulling and fiddling with their fastening. At last, Giyuu freed his lower half from the confines of his uniform pants and stepped out from the puddle they made at his feet.Â
Y/Nâs breath hitched in her throat as her eyes raked over his beautiful form, so lean yet solid and muscular. Her cheeks burned with a renewed blush as her gaze followed the small, dark trail of hair beginning just below his navel, and down between his hips, where the evidence of his desire stood proud.Â
Her throat went dry. He was large â the flared head of his tip nearly grazed his navel, and his width was a little more than two of her fingers. Her thighs clamped together nervously, as she pondered how on earth sheâd be able to accommodate him.
Giyuu noticed her hesitation, and a faint dusting of pink spread across his cheeks. âI have never -â
The shrine maiden shook her head. âNor I,â she whispered, though the knowledge that this was as new to him as it was to her helped ease the clench in her stomach. For all her nervousness, the Miko could not ignore the heat and longing which burned within her as she lifted her eyes back to his. She found her muscles softening as she saw the same fire within those cyan pools sheâd come to love. Y/N laid back against the floor â against the comforting soft of his haori, and let body relax, her legs falling open to him.Â
She held her hand out to him, beckoning, âCome back to me, Giyuu.âÂ
The ravenette did not hesitate as he returned to her, covering her body with his own as he pulled her in for a heated kiss, the weight of his hardened length resting heavily against her hip as he settled between the cradle of her thighs.
Y/N moaned into his mouth, instinctively rolling her hips against him, desperate to feel closer to the man who had claimed her heart before sheâd realized anyone was capable of holding it. Â
Giyuu groaned, softly, against her as she repeated the movement, breaking their kiss to look down at the flushed Miko threatening to drive him wild with her silken touch. As much as he was desperate to feel her â every part of her â he knew what they were about to do would not be nearly as pleasurable for her as it would be for him.Â
âI donât want to hurt you,â the Water Pillarâs eyes were stormy, a tempest of competing desire and pain at the idea of causing her even the slightest discomfort raging within him.Â
Y/N brushed her lips against his once before trailing along his jaw, pausing only to suck softly as the soft spot beneath his ear. âI am only ever undone by you; never hurt.âÂ
He moaned softly, lowering his head back down to reclaim her mouth firmly with his own, his lips beseeching her to let him consume her.Â
She was only too happy to do so, parting her mouth so that his tongue could slide in and dance languidly with hers, as he reached between them, gripping hold of his aching length and positioning himself at her entrance.Â
The first brush of his hot, velvety tip against her folds broke their kiss, both gasping at the new yet intoxicating feel of the otherâs most intimate area.Â
Giyuu braced his free arm by her head, his fingers stretching to run comfortingly through her hair, as he pressed his forehead against hers. âIf it becomes too much, just tell me, and we can stop.â His voice shook ever so slightly as he waited for her signal, the ache in his groin becoming nearly painful.Â
The Miko grazed her lips against his throat. âDonât stop.â She murmured. She hitched her legs higher up on his hips, angling herself so the trembling man above her would have better access to her.Â
Slowly, so very slowly, the tip of Giyuuâs length began to push into her, and Y/N felt herself temporarily forget how to breathe. Above her, Giyuuâs eyes squeezed shut in a concerted effort not to sheathe himself within her in one stroke.Â
âY/N,â Giyuu panted, unable to stop the shaky moan that fell from his lips as he sunk into her warm heat that wrapped tight, so impossibly tight around him.
The shrine maiden winced at the unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable sensation of being slowly stretched and filled by the Pillar. She felt as though she was a wave, crashing and breaking and parting around a rocky shore with every inch gained by the press of his hips against hers.Â
Giyuu hardly had a quarter of himself seated within her when he felt his head brush against a thin barrier. His eyes opened to look down at the Miko, panting beneath him, her eyebrows pinched in slight discomfort. When she noticed heâd stopped, she peered up at him through her thick eyelashes, her cheeks flushed.Â
The hand Giyuu had held at his base to help guide himself within her lifted to grip her hip, her legs relaxing as his fingers massaging soothing circles into her flesh. Giyuu removed his forehead from its resting place against hers and he buried his face into the side of her neck as he pressed his body flush against hers. The hand heâd used to brace himself found hers, and he lifted to rest above her head, his fingers twining tightly with her own.Â
âIâm okay,â she whispered, pressing a sweet kiss against the shell of his ear. Giyuu nearly shuddered at her words, and he pressed his hips forward, his cock finally breaching that thin, inner barrier to the rest of her welcoming heat.Â
Y/N cried out at the bright spark of pain that flared through her as Giyuu claimed her as his own, but the Pillar held her steady, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her neck.Â
A hitched gasp blew past Giyuuâs lips as he became fully seated within her heat, her core gripping him like a vice. He panted against the sweat-dampened skin of her neck as they both adjusted to the sensation, her nails digging harshly into the skin of his back as she waited for the discomfort to subside.Â
Giyuu pulled his face back to look down at her, the hand heâd had on her hip rising to cup her face as he brushed his lips across her cheeks and eyes.Â
âMy beloved, are you all right?â His breath came hard and fast as he panted, the growing friction between where they were connected becoming hotter, more demanding the longer he remained still.Â
Y/Nâs eyes slowly opened to meet his, he felt her relax as he kissed her, slow and gentle.Â
Her lips broke from his and she nodded, shakily. âYou can move â just hold me. Please.âÂ
Giyuu let his full weight fall against her as he wound an arm tightly around her waist, his other hand tilting her face up so he could kiss her fiercely, eager to show her what she meant to him when his words otherwise failed to do so. As she opened up to him, tongue flicking out shyly along his lip, Giyuu rolled his hips experimentally against hers.Â
Both the shrine maiden and the Pillar cried out in unison as Giyuuâs movement stoked an intense pleasure where they were joined.
It was like a spark of flame had ignited between her legs before shooting up to her belly, making her insides clench and pulse.Â
It was addicting, and, judging by the way the raven haired swordsman above her hissed, heâd felt that jolt of electrifying pleasure, too.
âOh,â Giyuu moaned as he began to move atop her, his cock sliding in and out of her heat as he worked to set a pace. âYou feel â this is ââ his stutters broke off into ragged pants that melted into broken moans with every movement as he found his rhythm.
The grip he had on her hand tightened as he pulled back from her neck in favor of watching her body jolt and bounce with each of his thrusts.Â
His head dropped down to study how his length, now coated in something shiny, appeared with every long draw of his hips out before disappearing back into her warmth.Â
He threw his head back. âHeaven,â the Water Pillar groaned out, a tendon throbbing in his neck as another cracked moan slipped free from his throat. âYou are heaven.âÂ
Shallow thrusts turned deeper, more purposeful, as the Water Pillar settled into his tempo. Each push of his hips opened her up more, bit by bit, until Y/Nâs limbs liquified and she was left moaning and whimpering in time with his movements.
One particular thrust made her cry out, caused her legs to reflexively tighten around Giyuuâs hips as something hot flared deep within her stomach.Â
âM-more,â she managed, her voice tapering off with a squeak. She needed to feel that spark again, wanted to feel that jolt of electricity that made her stomach clench. âP-please â ah!â Giyuu ââÂ
With something between a moan and a growl, Giyuu angled himself to thrust deeper, his weight pushing her hips back from the floor. Her legs were forced to hike higher up his waist, her ankles locking instead against the dip in his spine rather than his backside.Â
The new angle meant that Giyuu was able to hit at a spot that sent a bolt of lightening between her legs, and she could feel herself tighten around him.Â
The combination of her walls fluttering and pulsing around him and the strange fullness she felt was both overwhelming and exhilarating. She did not think she could stand to feel empty again; to not feel him consuming every inch of her.
Gradually, the small garden hut was filled by the sounds of their pants and moans, weaving together to form the melody of a song meant only for them.
Giyuu began thrusting harder, and soon, a dull clap of skin began to reverberate off the hutâs slatted wood walls, adding a steady beat to the rhythm of their pleasure. Though the air inside the hut had been nearly as frigid as what lay beyond its door, both the Miko and the Slayer found themselves coated in a thin sheen of sweat that made their skin glisten in the faint, orange glow of her lantern.
Above her, the Water Pillar was as lost in his pleasure as she. Guided purely by instinct, Y/N arched her lower back away from the floor until her breasts were flush against his sternum, desperate to feel that jolting spark between her legs.Â
She felt the walls her of her core clench tighter around Giyuuâs length with her movement, and he answered her with a deep growl as his arm cinched tighter around her waist.
Deep; he was so deep within her, that she wondered whether he might reach her soul before they had to part.
Giyuuâs thrusts quickened, the base of his groin grinding against that sensitive spot between her thighs that had her wanting more as she moaned, her thighs squeezing the Hashiraâs hips.
His head was thrown back, his eyes tightly shut as the most beautiful sounds of pleasure Y/N had ever heard poured from Giyuuâs mouth.
âI â fuck.â He growled as one arm tightened around her waist to the point of pain, the other grabbing her hand to bring it to his lips in a futile attempt to stifle the sounds lilting from him like song.Â
His name fell from her lips like a hallowed oath and Y/Nâs legs fell to the side, allowing Giyuu to chase the crescent of his release, as hips pistoned into her with wild abandon.Â
âY-Y/N,â her black-haired beauty of a lover grit through clenched teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. âMy treasure, I-Iâm gonna-âÂ
The Water Pillar buried his face into the side of her neck, cradling his groans into her throat, and Y/N could feel his length twitch within her.
As Giyuuâs hips slammed into her one final time, so to did the realization that she loved this; she wanted always to be this close to him, wanted always to be unable to tell where she ended and he began.
She loved him.Â
But the bitter truth was that sheâd never again get to hold Giyuu the way she was right then, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she felt something warm gush through her, a pleasured groan, so beautiful and husky tumbling from the Hashiraâs lips as he pressed a sweet kiss against her collarbone.Â
She would not get to love him past this most sacred rite.Â
If she were honest, sheâd likely never again experience this intimacy with anyone, for as long as she lived â for how could anyone else ever possibly compare?Â
She supposed sheâd been doomed to never hold onto the people who were meant to love her since the day she was born. She shouldâve known better.
But as the roll of Giyuuâs hips into her heat slowed, and his labored breaths eased, Y/N could not find it within herself to regret it; to regret him.Â
Because, fool though she was, she loved him.Â
Giyuu collapsed against her, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck as he came down from his high, still buried inside her as the two panted.Â
Her hands moved of their own accord to card through his raven hair, fingertips massaging his scalp as his breathing slowed, his breath adding further moisture to the already sweat-dampened skin of her neck.Â
She wished they could remain like that always; that the dawn creeping over the horizon would not herald forth the sun, and they could stay on the floor of the garden hut forever, wrapped in one anotherâs embrace. She desperately wanted to memorize the tempo of his heart as it beat steadily against his chest, the vibrations of which she felt against her ribs. Such a beautiful melody, it was, and yet it filled her with such despair to know she might never again hear its sweet song; that it might cease playing forever, the moment Giyuu resumed being the Water Pillar once more, and walked through the shrine gates for the last time.Â
But Y/N had never had anyone she could call her own, and as much as she loved the man nuzzling her neck as he whispered sweet nothings against her skin, heâd never been hers to keep.Â
âMy beautiful, beautiful Y/N,â Giyuu murmured, kissing his way up her throat to her lips. âAre you alright?âÂ
She held his lips for a moment before breaking away, letting her eyes roam his face, and she nodded. âAre you?âÂ
To her utter surprise, the Water Pillar chuckled softly, his laugh breathy and his smile heartbreakingly beautiful. âYes, my treasure. I am more than alright.âÂ
He brushed a kiss against the tip of her nose. âAfter all, I am with you.â
âââ-
Heâd brought her against his chest and theyâd laid there together, simply staring at one another, trading soft kisses as Giyuu traced a finger over every feature of her face at least twice.Â
If he was to die, he knew his last thoughts would be of her, and he wanted to be sure heâd committed every last detail of her face to memory.
Soon, far too soon, the deep indigo of the night sky was broken by the first, watery rays of morning light, and both the Miko and the Slayer knew their time was up.
The lovers dressed quickly, their backs to one another as both steeled themselves for the goodbye they could no longer avoid.Â
And now, that time had come. Though it was Giyuu who walked to his likely doom, Y/N felt as if she was embarking on her own death march as the pair drew near the towering Shrine gate. Perhaps she was; after all, he would be taking her heart with him, and she was unlikely to get it back.
Y/N did not know whether to lean in and kiss him, one last time, or whether such a display of affection would only scratch at the gaping, open wounds they now bore on their chests, where their hearts had been.Â
Giyuu, apparently, did not know what to do either, so the two only stood there beneath the Torii, eyes swimming with emotions neither could bear to voice.Â
There was a beat, and then the two moved toward one another, drawn together like magnets as they locked themselves in a tight embrace. Giyuuâs hand cupped the back of her skull as Y/N pressed her face hard into his shoulder. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his haori, desperate to keep him rooted to her â to life, safe and away from demons.Â
But he couldnât stay; she knew that. And so, with a deep inhale in a desperate attempt to memorize that mahogany and citrus scent of his she so adored, Y/N pulled away. She made to step back from him entirely, to put distance between them, but those warm fingers caught her under her chin, tilting her head up to face him before his hand slid to cup her cheek.Â
The emotion swimming in the azure depths of his irises threatened to chisel away at the lock she kept on her own. Tears burned in her eyes, but she would not let them fall; she would not make this harder for herself â for him â than it already was.Â
âIf you do not hear from me, leave the mountain. Go to the city, and do not go out at night. Keep your dagger and wisteria on you at all times, even when you sleep,â Giyuuâs eyes were serious, the hand on her face holding her in place. âLive, Y/N. Grow to be an old woman. Die only from age.â
The shrine maiden closed her eyes as she willed herself not to cry. âAnd if you win?âÂ
Giyuu hesitated for a moment and Y/N knew better than to ask him to make a promise he could not keep.Â
âSend a crow, if you can.â She whispered, feigning a small smile. âIt would be nice to not be afraid to go and gather night-blooming herbs.â
The Water Pillar nodded, his hand smoothing through her hair one last time as his lips pressed against her forehead. âThank you, Y/N.âÂ
She didnât need to ask what for.
She hoped sheâd never forget the way he said her name; the longing and the breathless passion that dripped from every syllable, and the way it sent shivers down her spine.Â
Giyuu broke away from her and set off towards the east. Y/N watched until he was nothing more than a speck on the horizon, before he disappeared entirely.Â
He did not look back.Â
ââââââââ
He hadnât trusted himself to look back at her, though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to turn around and behold her beauty one last time. But the Shrine Maiden had become his largest weakness, and Giyuu knew if heâd looked back, he would never make it back to his estate; to the Corps.Â
And if you win? Sheâd asked him, and he hadnât been able to form the words of the answer heâd so desperately wanted to give her.
Because while Giyuu Tomioka never made promises he couldnât keep, that did not mean he didnât hope. Right then, more than anything, his greatest desire was to win this war; win it, and come back and tell Y/N that she no longer needed to fear the night.Â
In any other life â if Giyuu had been any other man â there would be no question as to who heâd choose to spend the rest of his days with.Â
And so, Giyuu thought as he forced himself to march forward, his eyes burning, if he made it out of this war alive, he would go back to the Shrine and tell Y/N of their victory himself.
And perhaps sheâd then allow him to make her his wife.
Keep an eye out for Part II to see if Giyuu comes back and makes good on his promise!
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SUMMARY: The other Pillars are convinced Tomioka has something against the latest Hashira, but have no idea your husband is simply looking for you during your pregnancy.
A/N: I think something glitched when I was making the header...didn't crop properly. Anyway, enjoy this trash and I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standard but I just got the random idea in the middle of the night!
WARNINGS: Fem Reader, pregnancy
MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS
Everyone was convinced Tomioka Giyuu hated you right from the start.
You were first introduced to the Hashira when Oyakata-sama called them all for a meeting on the latest reports of demon activity, but requested them all to stay a little longer before being dismissed. Amane gestured for you to come forward with a gentle smile and you shuffled out of the shadows with your hands clasped together in nervousness but with a bright bream upon your face. The Hashiraâs eyes caught yours in surprise, wondering if you were perhaps a new Kakushi since you werenât wearing a slayer uniform, but instead a traditional (f/c) yukata.
Then their eyes strayed downwards and changed their minds about that, but nonetheless still remained in confusion.
âThis is our newest member, (y/n) (y/l/n), the (b/f) Hashira. She was supposed to join our ranks quite some months ago but due to her sudden pregnancy she will for now be an honorary member.â
The only sign of your anxiety was the blush on your cheeks and the hand rubbing at your swollen abdomen. âHi everyone! Iâm so happy to meet you all! I wonât be on the battlefield for some time and Iâm sorry I canât fight alongside you for now, but I look forward to getting to know you all. If you need anything, Iâm always at the (e/n) Estate.â
The ice was broken and you were immediately approached by many of the Hashira. Himejima-san cried and wished you and your child good health, making you feel a little embarrassed but thanked him anyway. The Mist Pillar Tokito simply stared at you, then at the sky, then at you again before asking what were you doing here again (later on, he startled you by appearing behind and questioning you in that airheaded manner of his if he could talk to the baby).
You were also tackled by the Love Pillar who introduced herself as Kanroji Mitsuri and your new best friend as well as the calmer Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu, who despite slightly unnerving you with her smile touched you greatly when she said you could always stop by the Butterfly Mansion for checkups or simply a visit.
âHow far along are you?â
âAbout five months, I think!â
âKYAAAAAAAAAAH! Your baby is going to be so cute! Whatâs itâs name? Do you know if itâs a he or a she yet? I canât wait to be an aunt!â
âHeh, Iâm not too sure yet, but I have a feeling itâs going to be a boy!â
Mitsuri squealed again, causing you to laugh at her genuine happiness. She whipped her head behind her and called out to the silently glowering Snake Pillar. âIguro-san, donât you think the baby will be cute? I really wish Iâll have some of my own one day!â
You and Shinobu shared a smirk as the Wind Pillar grumpily slapped his friendâs back and dragged the furiously red Iguro away, muttering viciously about not wasting any more time in hunting a Twelve Kizuki.
âOh look, there's Tomioka-san. Why hasn't he come and said hello yet?â
âAh well, a lone friendless wolf as always.â Shinobu didn't see you originally visibly brighten at Mitsuriâs words and turn surprised at hers.
Indeed Tomioka was standing awkwardly as always a little - long, actually - way off. What was not as always was that horrified, slack jawed look on his face instead of his usual blank, emotionless one.
âTomioka-san? Are you alright? You've been making that face for a long time alreadyâŠâ Shinobu's eye twitched, but you didn't notice, suddenly preoccupied with Muichiroâs intense questioning of whether he could play with the baby when it was born.
âShe shouldn't be a Hashira.â
The remaining Hashira found themselves narrowing their eyes at the Water Pillar's blunt, if not rude, words.
That would be just one of the many events that further convinced them of his intense dislike of you.
***
You started going over a lot to the Butterfly Mansion over then next few months, becoming a fast favorite among the girls for your cheerful attitude and your baby; even Kanao cracked a smile at you when you came around. When the other Hashira arrived to be healed you always made it a point to go pay them a visit and in turn you pretty soon had every one of them in your back pocket, including the harsh, loudmouthed Wind Pillar Shinazugawa who constantly gave you a jolt with the complete 360 with his attitude around you, to the point you could call him a good friend.
Being friends with him usually meant hearing him grumble about the stupid waterboy.
âWhy doesnât he ever look at you anyway, turning away like that. So rude, that little (beep) (beep) (beep)-â
âEheh, Shinazugawa-san, donât swear so loudly, heâll hear you!â
You had stopped by to Sanemiâs room when Shinobu had mentioned he was there to be patched up after a mission and knowing how busy she was, had offered to go help change his bandages with the basic medical knowledge you had picked up over the years of being a slayer. Reluctantly she had agreed and so here you were, chatting away with him until he spotted Tomioka passing by (he poked his head in actually, otherwise Sanemi would never have noticed him) and started complaining about him once more, especially when you had called out to him and Tomioka had simply whipped his head to the side to stare into the distance.
Really, Sanemi wasnât the only one to notice how Tomioka avoided you like the plague with that stupid, vacant, red expression of his.
âHeâs just shy, he doesnât mean to be rude!â You defended the poor Pillar, continuing with rewinding the new wrappings.
âTch, you should see how he acts at the meetings, like heâs better than us or something,â was the growling reply. â(beep) doesnât know how to (beep) talk with anyone with his (beep) attitude.â
âI donât think he thinks heâs better than all of you, maybe itâs just something else,â You hum, finishing up. âThatâs all! Iâm glad the demon didnât go any further than a scratch.â
Shinazugawa grunted, then his gaze caught yours and softened. âBy the way, whoâs the dad?â
âOh, itâs -â
â(y/n)-san!â Three heads peeked in from the door shyly. âCan you come and play with us?â
âOf course! Bye, Shinazugawa!â
Like always the reply was only a âtchâ.
***
Another thing was that he never stopped repeating what he said at the first time everyone met you: âShe shouldnât be a Hashiraâ, going as far as to attempt to prevent you from wielding a sword, although this was only noticed by Tanjiro.
You had agreed to the Kamaboko Squadâs requests (aka demands by Inosuke and begging from Zenitsu) to train together, despite Tanjiroâs worries which you brushed off. The boys were very rambunctious and did tire you out quite a bit, but you were having so much fun and they were so eager you just went on sparring with them until even Inosuke muttered a plead for a quick break, unable to beat your incredible swordsmanship.
â(y/n)-chan!!! Whoâs the lucky guy you married?! You never told us and I want to know how he managed to score someone so beautiful like you so I can do it with Nezuko-chan!â Zenitsu simpered, scooting closer, ignoring Tanjiroâs scandalized look.
âWhatâs married?â Inosukeâs voice was muffled underneath his boar mask and the mountain of onigiri you had brought he was stuffing into his mouth, so none of you heard him.
You giggle, placing a hand on your stomach. âHeâs very sweet, although heâs honestly very shy and doesnât talk much. Iâm sure youâve met him before! Can you guess?â
âWoah, really?â Tanjiro brightened, wondering who it could be, but his next question was interrupted by an interrogative monotone.
âWhat are you doing? You shouldnât be training.â Tomioka stood in front of them, the first time anyone had seen him interact with you without just staring at the ground. His face was as empty as the void but there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and Tanjiro didnât have to inhale to smell the worry reeking off him.
âI didnât know you were so concerned about (y/n)-chan, Tomioka-san.â Zenitsuâs eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his hair while he glowered judgmentally.
Tomioka made no reply, only swiftly grabbing and removing the sword from your hand. âShe shouldnât be a Hashira, much less train. You nearly died fighting a demon not too long ago, youâre in no shape to be doing this.â
With that he abruptly walked off and left Zenitsu and Inosuke to scream at him for being such an un-gentleman and for not fighting with them while you looked away sadly.
Tanjiro wondered why he didnât once smell dislike on Tomioka. Only fear.
***
âWhatâs he got against (l/n)?â Obanai joined in on the conversation from his perch on the tree. Heâd look for reasons to hate against the Water Pillar all the time, but unlike the others this time round his hatred was justified.
Tengen rolled his eyes flamboyantly. âI know! Heâs constantly acting like sheâs a pest to be around, but she doesnât seem to have beef with him. Whatâs wrong with that bland creature?â
âOh come on! We donât actually know if he hates her,â Rengoku protested mildly.
âThen why does he keep refusing to even make eye contact with her?â
âI mean, Iguro, you canât talk, you only ever look at Kanrojiâ - Obanai turned away, blushing furiously as Tengen cackled - âbut I get your point. The other day I walked in on them arguing. I canât believe he would keep reminding her of past failures without keeping her current state in mind!â
âPerhaps he only wants to try and convince her to stay safe during this time and discourage her from slaying for now?â
âRengoku, my best buddy, youâre too optimistic.â
âThereâs no other reason heâd give her the cold shoulder 24/7.â
Soon the conversation drifted to other topics, but little would they know Rengoku was the closest to the truthâŠ
***
Shinobu already had enough on her hands with all the screaming, panic and blood, but of course Tomioka just had to show up at the most inopportune moment.
It had been a relatively quiet day as the two of you sat on the engawa, exchanging war stories over tea when with a sudden cry you had doubled over in pain. Your water had broken and you were heading into labour - quickly.
Just barely the Insect Pillar had managed to get you to a bed and sent the Butterfly Girls scurrying for the necessities, hiding her uneasiness at the slight earliness of your boyâs arrival to keep you calm and help you through it. You were doing well under her coaxing to use Total Concentration Breathing, and thankfully Shinazugawa was still around to help you relax with a familiar face.
Then Aoi had burst in with a frantic expression and thundering footsteps from behind that certainly werenât hers.
âShinobu-san, Tomioka is demanding to be let in-â
âKeep him out!â Shinobu grimaced, returning her attention to you. Sheâs heard and seen what heâs like around you, and other than the fact he has no business to be here she didnât want to send you into a further state of panic. âHe doesnât like her, and if he opens that mouth of his to say anything more I might be responsible for two deaths.â
You dug your nails into Sanemiâs proffered hand, screaming in pain. He winced but said nothing, only looking up with a determined look in his eyes at Shinobu. âIâll go keep Tomioka out, just make sure she delivers safely.â
Without waiting for a reply Sanemi rushed out to bar the doorway, leaving Shinobu to assure and handle your birthing with the anxious assistance of the Butterfly Girls. The pain in your stomach was surely abominable, intolerable, and Shinobu found herself growing more alarmed with every minute the baby wasnât coming out.
â(y/n), I need you to push harder, alright? Can you do that for me?â
âN-no - where is he?â
âYour husband? Iâll get someone to call him, donât worry,â Shinobu lied with dawning horror that in the entire time she had known youâŠshe had no actual idea who you were married to. âBut he wouldnât like you see you like this, right? You can do it. Just keep your breathing under control.â
âJUST (beep) OFF, TOMIOKA!â Shinazugawaâs voice bellowed through the Mansion. His stocky form soon appeared, stubbornly acting as an indomitable barrier against the equally stubborn Tomioka who was desperately trying to barge his way through.
âTomioka, we donât need unnecessary people here to worry (y/n) more-â
âTHATâS MY WIFE!â
Whether it was because Tomioka had never raised his voice before or the sheer shock of it all or the fact you reached out for his hand, Shinobu and Sanemi let him through.
***
âI thought I was going to lose you when I heard you screaming like that from outside.â Giyuu nuzzled deeper into your neck, absently stroking your babyâs tiny hand. âDonât scare me like that again.â
You played with the strands of his hair with a teasing smirk. âYou did to, banging into the room like that, with the âThatâs my wife!â. It was very romantic of you, Giyuu~â
âI was in a rush.â Giyuu smacked his face into the pillow, embarrassed while you laugh.
âAra ara~ Are you both done cuddling? I want to perform a quick checkup on your baby now, if you donât mind, and all the Hashira are here to ask you a lot of things, Tomioka.â Shinobu stood at the doorway with her customary smile, a twitching eye and crossed arms. Behind her were the shadows of the others trying to peek over her shoulder or head into the room to congratulate you on your baby or beat up Tomioka (both for some).
âAsk about what?â Giyuu lifted up his head in confusion. You snort at his obliviousness, cooing at your precious sleeping baby before gently passing him to Shinobu.
âMAYBE ABOUT HOW (Y/N) IS YOUR WIFE AND YOU NEVER TOLD US?â
âKYAAAAAAAAAH! Thatâs so cute of you, Tomioka!â
âDo you hate us all or something?!â
âNoâŠ? No one asked and I thought (y/n) would have told you,â Giyuu said blankly, glancing at you with wide blue eyes. You sheepishly raised your shoulders.
âI tried to tell them but we kept getting interrupted or had no chance.â
âYou did make us all think you hated (y/n) with your behaviour, Tomioka.â Shinobu raised an eyebrow. âAfter all, you rarely spoke to her and when you did it was only to reprimand her, but I can see now it was probably out of worry for your child and herâŠalthough rather harshly.â
âOh!â You burst out laughing, shaking so hard you nearly couldnât take back your awakening baby Shinobu was handing over. âGiyuuâs just very shy! See-â
You're a young college professor teaching English Lit and history, you don't live an insanely exciting life - no, you enjoy spending time at home with a good book and a glass of red. You're prefectly content until a certain student sets his pretty blue eyes on you - senior Satoru Gojo. Obsessed with you, Satoru starts following you everywhere, observing and waiting. He just wants you to realize that he's the only one for you, and he'll do anything to make sure you throw your 'ethics' right out of the window.
pairings - college student! Gojo x professor! reader
warnings - yandere content, Satoru is completely obsessed with reader, bit of an age gap - Satoru is 22, reader is 30, reverse professor trope, power dynamics, push and pull, explicit sexual content. this part- masturbation (m and f), stalking, manipulation, a fk ton of sexual tension, Satoru being a menace to society, fingering, squirting, self loathing, possessive behaviors and dirty talking, hints of breed kink.
based on College Student! Gojo - mini series, this will be 3-4 parts hehe, comments/rbs appreciated if you enjoy <3 tags open
part one
Satoru Gojo loves to sit in the back of class.
He is actually a little far sighted, even with his glasses, but there's a particular reason he sits way back in those stacked benches. One, a perfect view of your tits in that blouse up here. Two, he can palm his aching cock over his jeans and no one could see.
It's for you, anyway.
He's picturing gripping your tits in his big hands, spitting on his tip and fucking his cock between them. You're so cute you'd probably blush, you'd whine out, probably be nervous until he makes you filthy for him.
Little goodie good, he drives by your house at night - you're his favorite teacher, after all. You're always curled up on your couch with your fluffy white cat, reading a book in one of your cozy sweaters. Even on a Friday night, he'll find you there, like you're waiting for him, and he knows you sense it, the connection. The pull that makes him want to desperately beg to slip up your pencil skirt and lap up your cunt.
He's so sure it's pretty, like all of you is. Your eyes briefly meet his while he palms himself, smiling and watching you shift just a bit when you sit on your desk, crossing your legs just so. He barely bites back a whimper, stroking his cock torturously, picturing making you squirt all over your well organized desk.
Bend you over and cum inside you, yank that little perfect bun and pull your hair, smear your pretty pink lipstick across your cheeks. Satoruâs white lashes flutter, when he almost busts those pent up white ropes of cum from the visions of you, when your murmur - 'class is over'.
Satoru Gojo quickly snaps back to reality then, itâs not just the two of you, like it should be.
You don't know you're his just yet.
He gathers his things, cock sticky against his boxers, the amount of times he cums for you every day is ridiculous, but he canât help himself, he needs you so badly. Ever since the moment he first saw you, he decided to take another English Lit course he didnât even need. It was well worth going through the same things he knew to hear your voice read those stories.
Heâd do any lecture you wanted, fuck heâd recite all of the Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe you wanted against your cunt with his tongue, trace every letter of that nonsense you light up for while he fingered you. Make you recite your favorite poems while he had you gushing across his hand, your eyes all rolled back in your skull.
He hardly can stand being near your scent and not just dropping to his knees for you, and itâs driving him crazier every day that passes. Where once, he could semi function and exist somewhat normally, now itâs all consuming â where are you, what are you doing, who are you with? Things he must know about the only person for him.
Heâs the only one for you, after all.
You donât see him that way fully, he knows that the little difference in age and you being a teacher holds you back, but he doesnât miss the quickness of your breath, the way your nipples harden under your blouse. Nothing goes unnoticed about you by Satoru Gojo, including the little ticks you have, tapping that pen, uncrossing and crossing your legs, clearing your throat a little when youâre nervous.
Every time heâs near you, he notices more of your bodyâs reactions, youâre trying to hide it but you canât fool him, not when the evidence is in the arousal he can damn near smell on you. He knows it would take almost nothing to make you fold, touch those panties youâre getting soaked just being near him, press a kiss against the crook of your neck.
You wear a simple little chain on it every day, the same one, heâd make sure you were littered with diamonds, glittering against perfect skin. Satoru knows one day heâll have to take over his family business, what better little wife than you? Sweet little english professor, so put together and modest, theyâd adore you â and heâd love to fill you with babies.
Surely youâll be ready for that.
He casually knocks over a pencil, and it clatters to the floor down by your little black pumps, you are so absorbed in writing something down it takes you just a moment to notice. You hear it, feel Gojo near you suddenly, and he smirks when he sees your knees pressing together.
"Teach, you dropped this," your student Satoru Gojo bends down right in front of you where you sit, his breath hot against your thighs.
You donât acknowledge what being near him does, you absolutely refuse.
He looks up with brilliant blue eyes and a little smile, your heart thuds quicker and quicker in your chest. You haven't gotten used to those eyes and the myriad of shades in the couple of months you've taught this class. You try not to look into them, to focus on your work, but Satoru stared directly at you always.
His eyes flit down your body briefly, you wonder if you're imagining that look, maybe he's just the type that makes too much eye contact, you yourself learned a long time ago that doing so was important. But no matter, he certainly was not more than a student, and anything else were thoughts shoved deep.
You could never be that way.
Being thirty and a professor made you more relatable in ways to the students you taught - mainly Juniors and Seniors in college, but in other ways, it made things harder. Not taking you as seriously, at times you come off a little too laid back and friendly, but never was it more of an issue than with Satoru Gojo putting a hand on your thigh.
He uses it to stand, his fingers long and thick, resting tight above your knee, when he does stand straight with a smile. He has thin wired glasses propped on the bridge of his straight nose, a contradiction to his letterman jacket from football. He did have the top grades in college, and was an easy student to teach, yet his frat was rather notorious for being troublesome.
Satoru Gojo came from the family that practically owned this university, the halls were named âGojoâ so of course he made sure to never get involved in any of that trouble. Despite the little glint in his eyes behind the lenses, and the way his lips quirk up in a knowing little smirk, he was ultimately a perfect student.
A student, that's it.
You were not about to end up on the news as the professor who got with the Gojo familyâs son and lost her career. Fuck it was nonsense to think about.
"Thank you, Gojo." He tenses a bit, looking down at you, so tall your face is right in front of his lap damn near, making the images churn in his heated mind.
Imagine tugging your hair out of that little twist, letting it fall across your face before he pulled it, making you cry out while he fucked you throat. He can't help but smirk as he pictures it, leaning a little too close now, hand on the desk while your lips part just a bit, and your eyes dilate behind those glasses.
"You have somethingâŠ" Satoru's fingers brush against your collarbone, making your breath catch. "Here, got it."
"Oh, um," goosebumps rise where he'd just brushed, you stand quickly, clearing your throat. âThanks.â
âHah, was just a hair, donât worry,â he teases, standing too fucking close to you.
âRight, I'll see you next week, bright and early!â You put on a pretty smile while you start to gather your things.
"Ah, of course you will, you're my favorite professor, you know," Satoru's grin is charming, but there's just something lurking, something that makes you tense up.
Surely, it's your imagination.
"Am I? Not Coach Yaga?" you tease, he picks up a few things for you and helps you slip them in your bag. He usually stays and helps you push in the chairs, or helps you grade papers, so it's not uncommon for you both to be alone, it just feels⊠different today.
You really need to go get laid, and stop binging love island on your couch with your cat.
"Nah, no way, definitely you," he watches color dance on your cheeks, you can't avoid that no matter how much you try. Satoru can damn near feel the heat between your thighs when you go to move past him, clutching those books to your chest. "Maybe I could get some tutoring this week, if you donât mind?"
"You should tutor me," he laughs again, moving out of your way so he can watch your ass twitch underneath your modest little pencil skirt, one he can't wait to slip up your hips. "You're good at every subject, top of your class."
"All thanks to you."
"Gojo, you're ridiculous, how much extra credit do you want? You have an A already," you tease, the two of you walking out of your class room, you lock the door, turning and suddenly get too close to him, almost bumping into his chest.
"You could call me Satoru, teach." He draws out those words, you hastily look down for a moment, collecting yourself.
"You should call me Miss," he smiles, murmuring your last name with the Miss title, and it just does too fucking much to you. "If you want, I will be on campus Saturday, but I doubt you want to come here on the weekends. Don't you have your Sigma Alpha whatever parties?"
Satoru chuckles at that, walking through the empty halls side by side, towards the front of the building, holding the door open for you. "I am not that interested in the frat parties, no. Maybe back in Freshman year."
"You're still young, you should have fun on weekends before life really gets you, not coming over to be bored with your teacher."
He can't wait to show you how much fun you could have, tie you up and keep you. He sighs, the sun is reflecting off your pretty face, your hair glimmering just a bit. He canât wait till he can brush the little tendrils back that have escaped your bun. "You're young too, stop acting like youâre not."
"Mmm, I remember there being no netflix, so I'd say I'm not that young," Satoru laughs again at that, brushing his silvery hair back a bit.Â
âYouâre right, thatâs ancient.â
âHey!â You laugh a bit with him, tension eased while he slips his hands in his pockets, leaning against the building. "All right I'll be here Saturday at noon, feel free to come in and we'll go over some things for the test, but Iâm really only well versed in English and History."
"No, thatâll be perfect," he leans too close, far too close, his snowy lashes lowering over cerulean eyes that catch light and reflect into even more pretty shades of blue. "Have a good night, professor. Drive safe."
"Yes, you too," you can finally take a breath when he walks off, slipping into your volvo, trembling just a bit.
You shut your eyes, shaking it off.
You need some wine tonight.
Satoru lets you drive a little before he follows you, he has to make sure his future girl gets home safe. Isn't that what a good future boyfriend does?
Good future boyfriends make sure their pretty professor gets in safely, and make sure to sit in their cars and observe them just a bit. How else was a future boyfriend to know what she likes? Satoru wants to make sure he has you figured out in every way he can, like how the curtains donât fully hide the silhouette of your body in the evening.
Heâd have to fix that, once youâre his, the way people could catch a glimpse of your pretty body, one that ultimately is his. The swell of a breast, or the hint of your hips, and between those curtains he catches little glimpses of what you wear â he already knows your favorite type of panty, he eyes them any time you uncross your legs while youâre doing a lecture.
Normal cotton ones, when heâd deck you out in delicate blue lace, rope your body so he could feast on you without any interruptions or protests. The thought, along with the silhouette of you makes him hard all over again, god but when isnât Satoru Gojo hard for his professor?
He releases his thick cock, resting his head back against the seat and moaning your name softly â practicing it against his lips while he spits down, a trail of saliva dripping onto his reddened tip. Precum leaks out of the little hole there, beading at the center, he canât help but imagine pressing it across your slit, sinking into your cunt and stretching you out.
He knows youâre alone every day, he knows by studying your socials that your last exes werenât anything, youâve gotta be so needy, but thatâs all right. Satoru has been saving up so much for you â he doesnât even fuck anyone at this point, it would just be disloyal, and he has no issue waiting.
Picturing how youâll cry out when he fucks you makes him stroke himself, twists of his hand in circles, eyes fluttering shut while heâs hidden with the dark tint of those windows in his sports car. Heâs stroking faster, thick veiny cock leaking so much pre, like itâs ready to fill you up, and fuck he would. Heâd fuck you so good you couldnât leave his bed.
You would never leave.
âProfessor, f-fuck, so tight,â he murmurs, itâs a devotion to you really, sitting outside your home, cumming just for you. âThatâs it, you can take me.â
Heâs whimpering ever so slightly, wondering how good itâll feel to bottom out inside your perfect cunt, hit your cervix till you drool, make sure you remember his shape and no one elseâs. Your name keeps dancing on his lips while he strokes faster and faster, more spit mixing with his precum, the sounds wet and filthy echoing in the little car.
âThatâs it, you want it all, donât you sweetheart, hah â Iâll give it to you,â Satoru Gojo gasps out when he pictures your face, mouth wide open, eyes rolled back, and thinks of how heâll pump your eager cunt so full. White ropes pouring across his big hands, he canât help but think how youâll clean him up, eagerly. âSuch a good girl for me.â
After cleaning up, he grins at the sight of you on that couch with your glass of wine and your cat through your living room window. Youâre nothing if not consistent, like youâre just waiting for him, surely you feel it too â the connection, the aching need to be constantly near you.
He canât wait until you realize how badly you need him â youâre not there quite yet, but he can wait for you. Â
*****
Itâs Saturday morning, youâre stopping by your favorite coffee shop right next to campus, just to run nearly into Satoru Gojoâs chest. You pause and gasp, bracing your hands on it for a moment, he catches you with an arm around the waist with practiced ease, steadying you. He watches you get flustered, not pulling back as quickly as you should have.
âFancy meeting you here,â he teases, before he grabs the two cups he ordered off the counter. âHere, I was bringing you this anyway.â
âOh, youâre so sweet! You sure?â He shrugs and hands money to the girl at the counter, sheâs swooning over him but he doesnât seem to pay much attention.
You suppose he just gets that constantly, and why wouldnât he? If he wasnât your student, and you just ran into him â youâre sure youâd be too shy and nervous to even talk to him at first. Because you are his professor, it opens up a bit to see him in a different way, not as the gorgeous, tall man he is but as someone intellectually challenging and enjoyable.
You imagine he likely doesnât have people realize just how smart he is, which is a shame. As the Gojo family practically bought their way into the school, people would assume Satoru didnât earn his way, but it couldnât be further from the truth. No one has test scores like him.
âYou donât have on your glasses today,â he murmurs then, walking outside where itâs starting to patter rain lightly. âWhy not?â
âI got contacts recently, I thought Iâd see how I like them⊠you donât have yours on either.â
âI really just need them to read,â itâs too easy to talk to him, itâs too easy to walk next to him. The comfortable yet completely nervous way you feel, heart hammering when he tugs you close. âCareful.â
You realize you almost stepped right into a huge crack in the sidewalk. âOh god, thanks, Iâm clumsy.â
âI noticed that,â he notices everything. The scent youâre wearing today is a different one, a little more floral, it fills his senses while his hand reluctantly drops, and he eyes the sky. âDid you walk from campus?â
âI did, shitâŠâ he knows you did, Satoru made sure to fuck with your car before he got here, while you were still in your class.
âCome with me then,â you hesitate, then slip into his sports car, while the rain starts falling a little more, parts of the sky still blue as his eyes, the others darkening slightly. You hold onto your coffee cup carefully, studying the rim while he makes the quick trip. âYouâre quiet.â
âAm I?â He nods a bit, you peer over to find him looking at you in a way he should not. âIâm a little tired.â
âDidnât sleep well last night?â he turns the steering wheel, parking right across from your car.
âI guess I didnât, but this coffee will help. Mnh, and itâs yummy,â you take a sip, a little foam on your lips. He leans forward and runs a thumb across them, making you jerk back. âGojoâŠâ
âSorry, foam,â he smiles and brings the frothy concoction to his own lips, ruining your fucking brain. No twenty two year old man should be doing that, actually, no one should. Especially Gojo. âYummy.â
Fuck.
Why are you ovulating this week!?
Focus â studying.
âLetâs run in!â You hop out of the car and dart before he can stop you, scent lingering in the air of his car, he canât stop his soft little whine at having been that close to you.
He runs after in just a moment, umbrella above him, he shakes it out. âYou donât use one, do you?â
âThat would be smart, Iâm afraid I always leave mine at home,â youâre a little breathless, blouse slightly damp from the water â white and thin. He can see the delicate design of your bra thatâs cupping your tits, a little trail of rain dancing across your chest. âYou ready?â
âIâm ready.â
You lead him up to your class, the campus is mostly empty save for a few weekend classes, and your building doesnât have very many. Maybe five students pass that all say your name, you smile at them all, making light conversation, making Satoru irritated, fist clenching the hook of his umbrella.
âOh, thanks, Iâm so glad!â You say to one of the boys there, who makes eyes at you.
Satoru wants to gouge them the fuck out.
Even the girl there makes eyes, heâs used to it, youâre the pretty new professor, but they all need to stop looking at you, girl or not. Satoru barely composes himself enough to feign the ease he needs to, smiling at you when you open your classroom door, flicking on the lights.
Soon you all are going over every question, open text book as you sit side by side with each other. Of course Satoru nails every question, you expected no less really, youâre not sure why heâd want to study more aside from high expectations. You know his family is pretty ridiculous with them.
Itâs been almost an hour, when heâs just a little more relaxed, and his fingers trace patterns along the delicate skin of the back of your hand that rests on the desk when youâre reciting something. Your heart races, his casual touch seemingly natural, as if he wasn't intentionally fucking with your brain. Making you think the most inappropriate things.
âBet I can guess your favorite Poe quote,â he murmurs, looking at you with a smirk that makes your tummy flip. You pull back your hand, pressing it between your thighs along with your other. âSomething wrong, teach?â
âNo, you think you can guess it huh?â You plaster on a smile. âGo for it.â
Satoru turns a little, resting his chin on his fist, elbow on the desk, he takes so much space with his long limbs, like he's taking your desk over. His knee brushes your thigh, they press together, practically trembling when he licks his lower lip and smirks just a bit.Â
âAll that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.â You falter, he spits the words that have been your favorite since middle school out with ease.
Surely you've read that to them, but to know it's your favorite?
âWhat,â he chuckles and sits up, leaning back in the chair. âDid I get it wrong?â
âNo, it is my favorite⊠but how couldâŠâ your eyes lock with unspoken questions, Satoru leans far too close, cupping your chin. âHow could you know?â
âI told you I'm pretty observant, I saw how your eyes lit up as you read it, how your lips movedâŠâ Worse than desire would be feelings, of being seen for the first time, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.
Fuck.
You quickly stand, ignoring the need pulsing hot through your body, images that should not be there. Imagine ending your career, you have to keep playing that in your mind, never being able to teach because you couldn't keep it together.
âI um⊠I have to go,â you manage, when he stands so damn tall over you, grabbing some of his books and slipping them in his bag. âWe can study more later, but you're already so good at it all.â
âYou gotta go, have any plans?âÂ
You better not.Â
He almost had you - kissable lips just begging for his mouth. That heat spent close, your entire body is warm as he looks down at you, smiling with ease and watching you just fall apart.
It was really all according to his plan, to make you needy, weak and wanting, to let your control slip. God how do you unleash when you drop this goody good act, and let your every desire come forth? When your back will arch as you ride his cock, begging for his cum.
You're flustered, not meeting his eyes.
âNo plans, I'm kind of⊠a homebody.â
âAre you?â You nod shyly, and he is feigning surprise like he doesn't know every night you're at home. âI'm surprised, so many people love you.â
âI guess my social battery taps out after work,â you clear your throat, tossing both empty coffee cups in the trash. âThank you again for that. You know, that is what I always order.â
âReally,â of course he knows your order. What sort of man would he be if he didn't learn everything about the woman he loves?
âIt is!â
âGood guess then.â
âVery,â you lead him out, locking the doors behind you both. It's pattering again outside, he's getting his umbrella out. âI'll see you in class Monday?â
Before he can answer you've darted over to your car with a quick wave, he smiles as he pops the umbrella up, knowing you're not going anywhere. But you try, and it's pretty cute, as the rain starts drizzling, you're shivering a bit, opening your hood.
He notices you use some stick to hold it up, frowning at the entire state of your car. He'll make sure you never have to drive again, you can ride in the back of a limo, or next to him in one of his cars. This is purely unacceptable.
âNeed help?â You gasp and turn, the rain pattering the umbrella, but he already can see the dampness of your white blouse, your glaringly apparent nipples. âWhy are you using a branch to hold this up?â
âThe thing broke,â you mumble, sighing then. âIt may be the starter going out, sometimes I have to drop the thing into neutral to start it.â
âHow long has that been going on?â Satoru hands you the umbrella to hold, you watch him bend over and peer at your car. In a polo, sweater and khakis, he looks too country club to ever do that, yet he has no problem.
âLike six months?â
Satoru peers at you and raises a brow. âYou just let it⊠stay that way?â
âI mean itâs fine! Sometimes the battery gets corroded too, but I pour coke on it.â
âWhat now?â
âIt works!â He sighs then, shaking his head at you.
âI'll try something but if not you'll have to tow it to a shop.â
âShit, okayâŠâ
âGo sit in the seat and start it when I tell you.â
You do quickly, but it's of no use, the car just won't switch over. You sigh, covering your face when he comes over, polo drizzled with water droplets, some have clung to his silky white locks. His umbrella shields you both from the now pouring rain, so loud he almost has to shout.
âYou should let me take you home, I can get your car fixed tomorrow and bring you.â
âNo. That's too much! I can call a tow andâŠâ you sigh, realizing your phone has no bars. âShit, it must be a bad stormâŠâ
âCome on, before we get soaked,â he holds out his hand, you hesitate, even as the rain starts pounding, and the lightning goes off in the sky. It illuminates his tall, imposing frame, those blue eyes darkening. âYou'll get sick in that car waiting, especially with no heat.â
âAll right,â you take his hand carefully, sighing a bit. He rushes you over to his sports car, opening the door for you. âThanks, Gojo.â
He slides in beside you then, the windshield wipers quickly turning on and flicking water side to side, the slow hum of his engine softly purring underneath you. Youâre shivering a bit from the chill of the rain thatâs soaked into your skin, his own hair flicking little clear droplets when he runs a hand through it.
Thatâs when he looks at you.
You were in his car earlier, but somehow the rain makes it even more intimate, trapping the two of you together, his heated gaze drifting across your body ever so slowly. There is no smirk or little smile, heâs quiet then â his pretty lips parted â you shouldnât think like that!?
âPretty lipsâ isnât what your brain should concoct, especially when his snowy lashes lower and you realize exactly where heâs looking. You gasp a bit when you look down, seeing the thin white material cloying to your figure, showing the lacy little bra youâd bought yourself last week, the first time youâve worn it.
âOh god Iâm sorryâŠâ You murmur, covering your chest with crossed arms and turning away.
âFor what?â
âForâŠâ You curse internally, still shivering. âIâm so cold.â
âLet me turn on the heat,â he leans over, arm brushing against yours, turning it on quickly. âI have a couple shirts if you wanna put one on.â
âNo!?â
He chuckles then, raising a brow at you. âNo? Wanna get sick?â
âYes⊠no⊠I canât just get dressed!?â You feel so nervous, as if heâs the experienced thirty year old, and youâre the hopeless twenty two year old obsessed with her teacher.
Something about him makes you feel too much.
âAll right then,â he continues easily, starting to drive, his veiny forearm far too pronounced with that dusting of snowy hair dancing across it. You swallow, arms falling a bit, now fiddling with your books, just a little damp from the rain. âWhatâs wrong?â
âItâs just embarrassing you sawâŠâ You canât even finish the words, his hand slips to your bare thigh, the contact heating your core up, you eye it carefully, knowing you should move it, yet you donât.
It feels good on your skin.
Satoru can feel your thigh tense under his touch, see the goosebumps rise on your skin, itâs quiet save from the pulse racing in his ears, and your little sound from the back of your throat. He knows if he slips his hand up just a bit that youâll let him slide your panties to the side, youâll let him thrust his fingers deep.
He canât stop his visions of your throat stretched around his cock, heâd chuckle while youâre just so hoarse in the voice at your lectures â maybe the class would think you had a cold, but heâd know that it was all from him. Youâre not there yet, but he knows how desperate you will be for that soon, begging to swallow all his cum like the good little professor you are.
âEmbarrased about what?â He asks softly, thumb running in circles, you all come to a red light, barely visible in the storming gray view.
âThat you saw me like that.â
âSaw your pretty tits, those nipples? That lacy little bra youâre wearing?â You gasp at that, until now itâs been Satoru teasing you, heâs not fully said even a hint of what he wants yet. âHmm, donât be.â
âYou⊠just said⊠IâŠâ You scowl at him now, earning his snarky little chuckle. âYou canât say that!â
âI canât say they look pretty?â
âNo!â His throaty, full laugh undoes your resolve, while you cross your arms again. âSurely, I misheard you.â
âNo, you didnât, but I can say it again if you want, does it get you excited, professor?â His fingers slip higher, the car starting to drive again, you grip his wrist to stop its trek, but still donât let it go. âFrom what I see, at least, you can show me them fully if you want my expert opinion.â
âYouâre ridiculous,â you realize you donât even know where Satoru is currently taking you, his grip tightens under your hold as he turns smoothly with one hand on the steering wheel. âHow do you even know where to take me?â
He pauses just a moment, youâre nothing if not smart, but a couple brushes of his thumb on your inner thigh changes that, your lips parted as if theyâre waiting for something to suck. Heâd give it to you soon, what you so desperately want without admitting it, what he knows you need.
He canât say he comes to your house every day, can he?
âYou mentioned your neighborhood in class, so I figured Iâd head in that direction, but youâll have to let me know exactly where it is.â
You wrack your brain for a moment, perhaps you did share that. âOh⊠of course, I think I remember. Do you have friends there?â
âI do have a couple.â
âGirlfriends?â
He smirks over at you. âNo.â
âWhy not? Look at you - I mean!?â
Heâs laughing again, leaning over a bit when he turns the car to the left, like he knows exactly where to go without thinking. âHmm, look at me, do you?â
âOf course not, itâs just I see⊠the girls are always giving you so much attention. Even at the coffee shop. I figured you had a little harem.â
âA harem?â He laughs again. âNo, Iâm afraid Iâm a one woman type of guy, but Iâm not currently interested in any of the students there.â
âAh. Well, youâre young, all the time to find someone,â your eyes shut when his fingers start dancing across the little lace garters you put on.
What a day to try to feel sexy, stuck in a car with off limits Satoru Gojo while youâre ovulating. You finally had a date tonight, but your car has made that one have to get cancelled. So now your mind is rushing, his touch feels too good, his scent is too intoxicating, some cologne thatâs likely a hundred dollar a spray. Even his car smells too good, itâs too clean, too put together â like him.
When youâre falling apart.
Focus, youâre almost home.
âDo you date anyone?â He asks softly, your lips part in protest, then he raises a brow. âYou asked me.â
âRight⊠um no, I broke up with someone Iâd been with for a year a few months ago. I was going on a date tonight butâŠâ
âThe car.â
âYeah. Um but I donât know him, my friends are all determined to hook me up with him.â
Satoru wouldnât let you hang out with these âfriendsâ.
His jaw tenses at the thought of you with someone, even he did not know about that. Imagine, seeing the woman thatâs his in the arms of some loser? Someone who wouldnât deserve you â only Satoru deserves to have any part of you, your body, your laugh, your pretty eyes looking up at him.
Soon enough it will all be him.
He looks down at you when you're at a red light, the soft red casting a glow on his face, shadowing it in that color. You swallow nervously when he is leaning close â heâs too close, hand moving higher, until he feels your heat, that trickle of slick the telltale sign how ready you are.
He wonders if the change of lingerie style is purely for âyour dateâ, but no one would see these but him. He moans softly as he pictures it, seeing your body fully. You look at him then, eyes almost black with how blown out your pupils are. âY-you shouldn't do that.â
âNo?â You nod quickly, when the light goes green, he turns his gaze to the road, the tension so palpable you can hardly breathe. âWhy not?â
âWhy not, well for one, Iâm older than you,â he laughs at that. âI am, youâre young.â
âYouâre barely older than me.â
âEight years.â
âYou look twenty two,â you heat up, he notices, eyeing you from the corner of his gaze, watching your flushed cheeks. âI donât want someone my age, unless it was you I guess.â
âYou should, and should stop that,â you shove his hand down, but it slips right back up, this time higher. You feel dizzy from how wet and needy you are, the heat blasting and giving you this fuzzy, heady feeling. âFine, we arenât that different in age, but Iâm your teacher.â
âMy favorite teacher,â he murmurs softly. âWhoâs soaking wet.â
âGojo!â
âYou want me to touch you, to tell you how pretty you are.â
âI donât,â you bite back a cry when his thumb hits the inner part of your thigh, right where your cunt is, so close you canât take it, eyelashes fluttering.
âYou donât want it, huh?â
âI canât,â you finish softly, the car is too small, youâre too close, itâs suffocating his presence, filling your every sense. âYou canât.â
âWhy canât I?â
âYou just canât,â his fingers tighten a bit, he feels you press your thighs together, hears your little whine, his thumb finally brushing the soaked material of your panties.Â
âWhy donât you take my hand off, if you donât want it?â You canât come up with a good fucking reason, other than youâre thinking with your cunt, your ovaries, your muddled feelings rather than your damn brain.
This isnât you.
Youâre cautious, youâre careful, youâre the girl who has always played by the rules. Never got in trouble her entire life, a good girl for all intents and purposes, one who even in relationships has been picky, careful. You can count the men youâve been with in your thirty years alive with one hand, and they were all established relationships, built over time.
You didnât just fuck in cars with your damn students.
âYouâre not acting appropriately, Gojo,â he grins, his teeth white and glinting, touch lifting so that his fingers get sticky with you. âYouâre forgetting Iâm your teacher, clearly, a lapse of judgement.â
âOh, Iâm not forgetting youâre my teacher at all,â you take his hand off finally, that took far too long because you want him to.
Fuck.
That self loathing fills your damn brain, surely you can act correctly, but every sound makes your tummy flip. Itâs been too long, cunt just drooling against the cotton on the gusset of your panties. Yeah, itâs been forever, and yeah, your sex life was not something to write home about â but thereâs not an excuse.
Who would you be if you let your twenty-two year old student just finger you? What would that make you?
âWhere exactly is your house, weâre close I think.â
âOh,â you blink and try to focus, itâs hard to see still with the way that rain is pounding. âTurn right here.â
Satoru lets you guide him, acting like he has no clue that heâs not constantly staring at you for weeks now, parking right in front of your little house â itâs cute and quaint, but just wait till he gets back to his mansion. Heâll make sure you have a staff thatâll take care of everything for you, and if you ever want to go work, heâll give you so many kids to occupy your time.
You have such a nurturing instinct, really, itâs more than the fact that he wants to fill you with cum, fuck it back into you, and then put more inside. More than he wants to see how flexible you can be, what you look like folded in a mating press under him â and more than the Gojo family line.
Itâs because youâd be so happy.
Truly, itâs all for you.
âHere we are,â you manage a shaky smile, gathering up your things hastily, hands trembling. He takes one carefully, undoing your seat belt, fingers brushing your skin. âYou should wait a few minutes, let the rain ease up, hmm?â
Satoru murmurs your first name then, ever so softly, a hand cupping your cheek and feeling the heat seep through. âYou shouldnât call me that.â
âNo? Arenât we pretty close though, sweetheart?â You bite down on your lip, he gently tugs it out of the grip of your teeth. âCan I not call you that either?â
You shake your head, not trusting any words at this point, whose to say you donât beg him to fuck you then and there? His eyes slip down like a caress, across the blouse that still shows too much. The rain is pounding that windshield, bouncing off the glass, enshrouding you two in darkness, the sound of the hard drops hitting mixing with distant thunder.
It feels like youâre completely secluded, and you suppose you are, like this car doesnât exist in typical space of time, no itâs something inexplicable. His hand on your cheek is cool and firm, big hands with long fingers that just ruin your mind more, picturing how they feel, then cursing yourself for doing so. Satoru clicks those wipers off, letting you both further descend into this car all alone, cut off from everything.
âQuestion professor, if I may?â He asks, taking your hand and pressing a little brush of his lips on the back of it. All you can do is nod, unable to speak anymore, feeling drawn more and more with every breath you take. âIf you met me somewhere, say some book fair you went to, would you kiss me then? If we were just two people, and I wasnât your student?â
You canât answer, itâs so glaringly obvious, all you can bring yourself to do is pull back from his grip, looking away. âDonât ask me that.â
âSweetheart,â he turns your chin, gripping it tightly, and your eyes still wonât meet his. Satoru runs a hand to the back of your hair, gripping it at the nape, earning your little gasp. âNeed you to focus. Can you do that?â
He shouldnât talk like that, look like that.
âI need to go.â
âAh-ah, focus,â he forces you to meet his gaze, taking over your body with how big he is everywhere. âAnswer me, pretty professor.â
âSo what if I would, it changes nothing.â
âAnswer, then.â
You scoff, blinking rapidly, his hand slips out of your hair, trailing down your spine. âYou shouldnât want me, youâre-â
âExcuse me?â He glares now, arm wrapping your waist, tugging you against his hard body. Your nipples press out against his chest, it feels far too good. âThe fuck you say?â
âIâm older, and⊠Iâm boring, all right? You should want someone younger, exciting, not some teacher who just⊠stop looking at me like that, Gojo.â
âLike what? Like youâre the prettiest fucking woman Iâve seen?â
âNo,â you shake your head quickly, tears pricking your eyes, some mix of desire and frustration. âItâs not true.â
âYou know what Iâd do, if I got you to myself?â
You just look down, at his jaw, his lips. âWhat?â
âFuck every insecurity out of that head, if one round didnât work, well Iâd eat your pretty pussy till youâre ready for another,â you gasp, eyes darting up, his own are so bright theyâre impossible to focus on, shaking in his hold. âThen if you had any left, I suppose Iâd fuck you till you passed out, cock drunk and fucked out.â
âSatoru Gojo!â
âMmm, yes⊠call me that,â his lips are just a breath from yours, you taste sweet mocha from earlier, breasts pressing together even more with his chest. âI like when you use my full name, professor.â
âYou canât know that itâs all pretty or-â
âIâm sure every part of you is,â he slips that skirt up your thighs, ever so slowly, material brushing your skin, you should stop him, but you canât, especially when long fingers find you over your panties. âFuck, youâre soaked, I havenât even touched you yet. Tsk, are you so easy? If I say how pretty you are, youâll drown me with your cunt?â
âYouâre ridiculous,â your thighs spread, making his smirk widen, thereâs no willpower, like the heat and Satoru have sapped it. âYou canât say it.â
âBut you love to hear it,â you shake your head. âI can tell you every part of you thatâs pretty while I worship your body.â
âWhile you⊠Gojo,â you push him back gently, but he doesnât budge, hands gripping the material of his shirt then. Your breaths come in quick pants, lost in the feeling of his fingertips on your slit. âEven if I want it, we canât.â
âWhy canât we?â
âEthics- ah!â
âMmm,â heâs grinning now, pressing that material closer and snugger against your eager cunt. âEthics makes you wetter, huh?â
You donât answer, the squelching wetness filling the car speaks enough, you just spread your thighs a little more, for his fingers to slip under your waist band and find your slick heat. Thatâs when you donât hold back the little moan, sweet and filling his ears, earning his once he finally gets to touch you, slipping down till heâs right against your hole.
âGojoâŠâ
âSatoru,â his name comes out breathy. He presses his fingertip inside you teasingly, feeling how tight you clench it, groaning softly, his head resting on yours. âYouâre so tight.â
âWe canât, you canât - ah!â He slips a finger in a little further, leaning over you, your back pressed in that seat.
âFeel her grippinâ me,â he huffs in wonder, heâs never felt anything like you. Heâs been with women before you, many back then â but once he saw you it was over, he knew he needed you, and you feel this good? âCould you even take my cock? Cunt is so fuckinâ small.â
âYouâre⊠crazy yâknow that, you â mnh!â Heâs got it fully in, just that your cunt struggles to take, his fingers longer and thicker than the men youâve been with. You feel so full and needy, his plump lips trailing across your jaw.
âLet me make you feel good, hmm?â He asks, the windows fogging with your breaths and the heat surrounding you, sucking your breath away while he curls that finger meanly in your walls.
âYou canât,â youâre rocking your hips, head tilting to allow him more access, while he pictures stretching your tiny little hole out, heâs so thick he bets heâll barely get it in, but heâll make it fit. âAh!â
âYou work so hard, donât you sweetheart? Youâre always soâŠâ he curls that finger up again, tongue lapping at your skin, the flavor even sweeter than he could ever imagine. âSo stressed, so tired, let me take care of you.â
âGojo-â
âSatoru, when you cum fâme, huh?â Youâre blinking rapidly then, dizzy and falling into the madness thatâs your batshit crazy student with stupid long fingers, pulling one out and then teasing another. âCan you even take two, your cunt is so pathetic, have you never been stretched out?â
His free hand yanks down your top, still clinging to your skin, bending down to lap at your nipple over the lace, trails of saliva seeping in. Your back arches at the sensation, his fingers barely able to penetrate with just how thick they are. He pulls more of your slick out, eliciting a pornographic sound youâve never fucking made, gushing down him.
âLetâs see how pretty they are,â he whispers, looking up at you with glossed lips and fucked out eyes already, like heâs just as fucked as you. He slips your nipple out, moaning softly when the bud tightens, his mouth sucking it in. Your hands grip his hair, not pushing him off - no youâre tugging him in.
âThis is c-crazy, we canât,â your words donât meet your actions, not when his two long fingers press this spot you havenât even felt, making you see stars. âOh my fuck.â
âTeach, you have a bad mouth,â he pouts, looking up from where heâs left a round, glossy mark on your tit thatâll bruise. Strings of spit dissolve from where heâd hungrily been sucking on your tit, he moans and gently smacks it, smirking when you jump a bit. âYour tits are as pretty as I could have imagined.â
Heâs⊠sweet, oddly?
âTheyâll look so pretty with my cum drippinâ on âem.â
Never mind.
âSatoru!â You glare, but that image burns in your fucking brain with his wicked grin, moving his fingers deeper now, until you swear they hit your cervix. âSo deepâŠâ
âYou can take it, just for me though, okay?â You shake your head, but heâs lost in you, sucking your other nipple, starting to pump into your cunt. âShe was waiting, just wanted my touch.â
Youâve never felt whatever the fuck heâs doing to you, cunt squelching and messy, louder with every thrust, so much pressure in your tummy you almost canât take it. His mouth trails up your skin, across your neck, lapping it up while his fingers wreck your senses. That arousal drips down his hand, making every stroke easier.
Gojo can feel how good you'll squeeze his cock soon, how those gummy walls will just grip him, your cries making him so hard it hurts. He almost cums just touching you, just looking at your pretty face, lost and hidden in the torrential downpour surrounding you both. Your eyes are lidded, when youâre close â and fuck, he can feel how close you are.
âYouâre so loud, professor,â he taunts, your brows drawing together while your lashes flutter. âYour cunt, itâs so needy, so desperate fâme, huh?â
You shake your head, he chuckles even while heâs pulsing and leaking pre against those boxers, dying to drag you right down his length. You try to glare, itâs honestly adorable, the lightning flashing and illuminating the car, showing the expanse of smooth skin and your pretty breasts.
You cling to his forearm, whining out. âItâs too much.â
âNo, itâs not, you can do it,â you shake your head, feeling his muscles tense with every movement.
He moves that middle and ring finger up and down faster and faster, exhaling against your lips as he watches you. âSâtoo much pressure, mnh!â
The lightning flashes and hits his pretty face, he looks psychotic in that moment, beautiful and insane, he grabs the back of your neck, tongue lapping a filthy trail up to your ear. âOh, youâve never really cum before, have you?â
âI h-have! Youâre doing too much and â canât take it, ngh!â Satoruâs soft laugh tickles your neck before he sinks his teeth, sharp and painful.
âYouâve never really cum before, but donât worry, I can teach you, hmm?â He pulls back, seeing you sniffling, tears in your pretty eyes, barely able to cling to his shoulders, thigh propped right up on that dash so he can get deeper. âFuck youâre so pretty like this.âÂ
Thatâs when whatever was holding you back the slightest snaps.
You should regret your next actions, dragging him down for a kiss, heâs kissed your tits and neck but not your mouth, and you fucking need it. Need his desperate whimpers against your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth and swirling. Satoru loses it right with you, whatever control he kept.
He presses you back against that leather seat, storm rattling the little car as it pounds heavier, his knee propped on the seat, tongue hungry and desperate. Youâve never felt anything like kissing him, like his messy, sticky fingers coated in your creamy essence, and you feel that knot in your tummy about to release.
âCum,â he orders softly, kissing you again, biting at your lower lip. âCum pretty professor, lemme feel you.â
Satoru exhales and eases back, watching the woman heâs dreamt of fall apart under his touch, cunt just gripping him like a vise, watching you begin to shatter under him, lit up just in moments as lighting dances across the street. Your moans are just a bit deafened, but your face, fuck he couldnât have pictured that.
âWaited so long fâyou,â he whispers it so soft you donât hear, youâre too lost in the pleasure heâs eliciting, so much you panic as you begin to pulse, tightening. âAh- ah, let go, come on sweetheart, you can make me messy yeah?â
âSatoru,â he moans at that, you crying out his name as you begin squirting all over his fingers, nails digging into his shoulders, he hisses at the pain, looking down at where the clear streams of liquid pour. âOh my god⊠I⊠thatâsâŠâ
âFuck,â he stares in wonder for a moment, before smiling just a bit. âLook at you, huh? You listened to me, now I need you to cum one more time.â
âC-canât - mnh!â Satoru eases his fingers out with a pop, rubbing your poor neglected clit, so sensitive as you clench around nothing.
âYou can, look you did so perfect for me, look at you,â he cups your face as his eyes turn black, just a ring of blue left, before gripping under your chin. âOne more time, be a good girl, would you?â
Good girl.
His audacity knows no bounds, but youâre embarrassingly quick to cum again, he moans and pulls back, sucking you off him then, eyes fluttering shut. You gasp at the action, thighs shaking violently, heart racing when he smiles just a bit.
âOpen.â
âOpen!?â
âListen for me, would you?â You do it, you donât know why, maybe youâre too fucked out, but you open wide for Satoru Gojo â your fucking student â to spit in your open mouth. You gasp, but he grips your face tightly, shutting your jaw close. âSwallow it.â
You do that, earning his filthy little moan, making the sweetness of your cunt dance across both of your mouths. Tears spill down your eyes at the release, at what heâd just done to you, which you can hardly comprehend. No amount of that rose vibrator and smut was doing anything like this psychotic student grinning down at you.
âDid I make you feel so good, hmm pretty?â You just nod in a jerky motion, still tasting your own arousal and his spit in your mouth. âYou listened so well, and you told me what you felt, youâre just such a good little professor, arenât you?â
He kisses you again, stroking your hair almost gently. âSatoruâŠâ
âShh, donât worry,â he adjusts your panties, your blouse, your skirt so sweetly, like he hadnât just taunted you, spit in your mouth, fingered you till you were embarrassingly gushing all over. âIâll bring you to school, and fix that car, yeah?â
You blink rapidly, the rain slowly dying off to a patter, as it all fucking syncs in of what you just did. âWe canât do this,â you hastily try to button your blouse, but he moves your hands away. âWe canât.â
âYou need me to help, donât you? Your fingers are too shaky,â he adores that look on your face, the fear and the tears, youâre realizing youâre all his, and he canât help but enjoy this moment, smiling with bright blue eyes. âThere.â
âCanât again,â he ignores that, just being so bright, chuckling a bit as he kisses your lips. âSatoru.â
âI love when you call me that,â he murmurs your name, just to fuck you up further, with a lidded gaze. âIâll see you in the morning, okay?â
He watches you rush out with a dopey grin on his face â heâd masturbate, but he already came when he sucked your juices off, so he instead just cleans up quickly, sighing. He makes sure you get in safe, of course, thatâs part of being your everything â but he knows that heâll have to act unaffected.
Youâre not seeing the vision just yet.
*****
Itâs been two weeks.
Two weeks since Satoru casually showed up with your favorite coffee, grinning big at you. Heâd already had your car fixed, thoughtful and kind, just being friendly like he was before â and nothing else. You suppose you should be thankful heâs listened to you, that he knows that canât happen again, or itâll lead to more, and the consequences for you would be heavy.
Heâd even joked about it on the way back to campus â âSo worried Iâll tell everyone our little secret, huh? Nah, no way.â
Heâd been completely normal since, aside from little touches, little brushes against your skin in the hallway, being everywhere and anywhere at the same fucking time. Every time you turned, Satoru was there for you to bump into, or he was around to look at you, and you could feel that gaze like a physical touch.
You should be glad he didnât say anything, that itâs over, that you came sure but nothing you canât get back from. Youâre not having some affair with your student, the namesake of the fucking University. Having to meet his stuck up, distant parents last week was hell enough.
You couldnât stand them, truth be told.
Theyâre neglectful, theyâre terrible, they donât seem to give a fuck about Satoru aside from his name, his accomplishments, and worse than desire was the affection you felt when his jaw tensed during that conversation. The way you could see he so clearly felt ignored by the people who should love him.
You canât feel this.
Yet with every mere brush of his fingers, youâre losing your mind, losing all the caution â fucking throwing it to the wind all for a moment like that again. You touch yourself at night, not to the thought of him, but then he seeps into your mind, you canât get him out, fingering your hole desperately with no results.
Itâs like only he can make you feel that way.
Class is over, and everyoneâs saying good bye to you, Satoru lingers like he always does â always sits in the back, observing you with a knowing smirk. You sit there, waiting for him to descend, and you hate yourself for what you do next⊠or, you should hate yourself.
Satoruâs getting up to walk by, the rest of the class is filing right out, he gives you that little smile, like he wasnât the man spitting in your mouth two weeks ago, having you squirt for the first time in your life. Like he wasnât the one biting your lip, tugging at your hair, kissing down your breast â no, itâs as if everything is perfectly normal.
Isnât that what you asked him to do? To forget it ever happened, because it damn sure cannot happen? Yet you casually knock your pen off with a little flick of your hand, letting it clatter down to the floor in a click that echoes in the room. The door is shut with a resounding, heavy sound, when Satoru pauses, looking down at your bare legs, setting his bag down on your desk.
âYou dropped your pen, Professor,â he murmurs, leaning down and kneeling on the floor, his breath right against your inner thigh. His eyelashes lower, when his hands slip up them torturously slowly. You know itâs insane, wrong, but you canât hold back a soft whine at how good it feels. âSomething wrong, sweetheart?â
âN-no, nothingâs wrong,â Satoru spreads your thighs, inhaling you practically, seeing youâre wearing lacy panties today, a first. Theyâre darkening as his head dips, spinning you in the chair ever so slightly. âYou shouldnât call me that, Satoru.â
âYou shouldnât be this soaked from your student,â you bite down on your lip, he slips up that dress and sighs at the sight. âI can smell how turned on you are.â
âGet my pen, Satoru,â you whisper, thighs trembling when he chuckles a bit, face damn near right against your cunt, but not touching, nose a centimeter away.
âRight, your penâŠâ he picks it up, when your hand entangles in his white locks, his lips get glossy when he licks them. He drifts the pen up, the cool metal tip slipping up your skin. âProfessor, youâve got something there.â
âDo I?â You shouldnât fucking do it, you know better, when the pen slips your panties aside for the briefest of moments. âAh!â
Satoru wants to devour that pretty, slick cunt he didnât get to see properly before, he knows you want it, sliding that pen down those panties, and watching slick drool out of your little hole. His cock is aching to be inside you, but youâre not quite desperate enough, not quite needy enough yet. You still seem to think you have the upper hand, and though heâs desperate, he also is patient.
He can wait until you realize you need him.
For much more than making you cum, youâll need him for everything in time, to take care of you, to hold you, to keep you locked up in his home â well, itâll belong to both of you. Kids, in time, the Gojo family line being remade from the pretty cunt thatâs begging for his touch, his mouth, his cock.
âSatoruâŠâ youâre so pretty like this, your brows together, your cheeks flushed, he just pulls the pen back and adjusts your panties with his fingers, just enough to get them coated in your arousal.
âHere you go, teach,â he smiles easily, standing and leaving you on edge, slipping your dress back down. âYou all right?â
âY-yes,â youâre hastily standing, taking several breaths, cursing yourself internally for fucking acting that way. âIâm⊠um, sorry I dropped that.â
âNo worries,â he brushes your hair back behind your ear, leaning low over you, so tall and imposing, yet his touch is incredibly soft. His thumb brushes along your jawline delicately. âIâll see you in history tomorrow.â
âYouâre⊠taking history too?â You ask, voice a breathy squeak damn near. Seeing him once a week with those vivid memories was torture enough, but twice a week!?
âI sure am, I canât wait toâŠâ he leans down and his lips brush against your ear, making you tremble, sending shivers down your spine. âLearn lessons from you. Youâre just my favorite, you know?â
You canât talk, when he pulls back to smirk at you, when you realize you damn near were begging for your college student to eat you out. Pathetic, the most unethical thing in the world, and heâs acting nonchalant, like nothing is even bothering him. Youâre as embarrassed as you are soaking wet, as self loathing as youâre willing to say fuck everything and give in.
You canât do it.
âIâll look forward to seeing you, Gojo.â He frowns a bit at the use of his last name, as you try to gather your wits. âClass is at ten.â
âIâll be there, teach.â You both walk out of those heavy doors, eyeing each other for just a moment. His gaze slips across your ass when you turn, darting up to the delicate curves and lines of your body.
Heâll give you what you need soon, but not until heâs much more than relief, or something to cum to.
He needs to be your everything, and heâll make sure it happens.
After all, isnât that what good future husbands do?
Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine - it motivates the smut!đ·
New mini series by @madamechrissy is out and omfg! This is everything I knew it would be! Satoru is completely unhinged. I love his psychotic ass so much! I need him to come put his babies in me. I have no excuse for myself. How is he so fucking hot? I blame you for the state of my hormones Chrissy! I think he's ruined me. â€ïžâđ„ đ«Łđ€đ„°đâ€ïžđ
No fr I will give his unhinged ass all the babies he needs to remake the Gojo family line đ€đ€ He's a FREAK aha he's maybe my most unhinged Toru. My teaching privileges would be revoked so fast lol reader has more self control than me :')
Pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem reader (reader is a mom)
Summary: You longed to hear from Satoru, After an epic night hooking up in a club bathroom, sure you'd been strangers, but he has your number, he made you feel so special... but... he never contacts you again. Ten months later, you have a beautiful baby named Reign, with those exact blue eyes. You never saw him again, couldn't even find him, so now, you are living your life as a single mom. Messy bun, dark circles, exhausted, you run into Satoru one day, and he sees her, his baby girl, and sees you struggling, he knows then, you're what's been missing in his life.
CW: MDNI- Sweet and emotional story, SO MUCH fluff here, Satoru is a freaking doll, misunderstanding led to him not knowing (nothing is kept from anyone on purpose) Fluffy long oneshot, watch Satoru fall in love with reader and his lil girl. Gojo being a dad and being cute! Explicit smut at the end- warnings- breed kink (it's me???) oral (f receiving) dirty talk, possessive Satoru (When isn't he?) Also some flashbacks to the original bathroom hookup (fingering, dirty talk etc) Sexual tension, 10.6k WC <3
Here is the full oneshot! Comments and reblogs SO appreciated if you enjoy <3
You often wondered about him, Satoru was his name.
As you look down at your baby girl, with her brilliant blue eyes while sheâs cooing happily, giving you a gummy little grin, you wonder what heâd think if he knew about her. The random guy at the bar you gave your number to after hooking up in a bathroom, the guy who never called, the guy with no social media of which to speak. The guy you never, ever saw again.
Your babyâs father, the best thing that ever happened to you, surely, but also it was very difficult, being a single mom, youâd have to go back to work soon which you were dreading, spending sleepless nights up feeding, changing her. It had been a rough pregnancy, and a shocking one at that, people had questioned you over and over, some mentioned not having her.
But something in you knew you could do this, you could have this baby, youâre broke as fuck but she has all she needs, and she makes you so happy, but those eyes are unmistakable. No one has eyes like that, except her and her⊠well was he her dad? You wonder if heâd run ten million miles from you if he knew, or would he have been okay with it?
Itâs odd that just a night of fun, alcohol and being on antibiotics created this amazing little girl, but you canât be upset, not when she brightens your world. But you still ache at times, for her to have a dad, you hope youâre enough. You wonder about him though, the bright energetic man, the one that had made you feel more in one evening than anyone ever.
The last man youâd been with.
Yes, itâs been that long, Reign was two months old, so youâre damn near a year, you say itâs because youâre so busy, but something deep in you knows that you felt something for him, deeper than the obvious physical. Something about how he looked at you, at how he laughed, at how he made you feel so special.
You assume it must have been some act, clearly, here you are, alone after all. You both only knew each otherâs first names, itâs true, but he had that number. Maybe it wasnât all you thought it was? Maybe he just was that sort of guy, the one that made women think theyâre his everything with one of his kisses, maybe you were just too drunk, and he was too pretty.
You blink a bit, shaking the haze thoughts of him as you yawn a bit, exhausted from Reign keeping you up all night, her tummy had been hurting. Youâre sleepily putting things in the cart, baby items, groceries, the essentials, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the produce, wincing then. You have a messy bun and are in pajamas, god help you if you ever wanted to meet a guy.
âOh hi, I have a baby with a random blue eyed dude from a bar, Iâm broke as fuck, and I wear pajamas to the store. Wanna date?â
Yeah. That would go over well.
âItâs⊠itâs⊠you!?â You sleepily look up then, so exhausted you barely register the six foot three man for a moment, then suddenly it all hits.
He stares at you, those blue eyes, the eyes your baby has, wide now, his pouty pink lips dropped open. Heâs just as gorgeous as you remember him, like itâs some dream, you feel weak then, chest rising and falling as your breaths come too quickly. He steps closer to you then, he hasnât seen her yet, nestled in her little car seat on the cart, youâre panicking.
âDo you even remember me? Oh my god, that night my phone broke, and I had just got it, they couldnât transfer the numbers! And I tried to look you up? But I couldnât find you⊠and I never saw you⊠and then- fuck Iâm rambling.â He laughs nervously, swiping his hand through his snowy locks. âForgive me, please⊠what I mean to say is⊠Hi?â
âHiâŠâ Your baby whines then, and Satoru pauses, blinking and you move to the side then, he steps closer when Reign opens her eyes, grinning at him.
Satoruâs heart pounds in his chest, his entire world tilts on its axis, he was already so thrown off by seeing you again, the girl he hasnât been able to stop thinking of, but now⊠he looks at you in shock, you look exhausted, but so beautiful, your eyes tear up then, he watches your shoulders slump, then he looks back at the baby, realization sinking in.
âSheâs⊠is she⊠thereâs no wayâŠâ
âSheâs yours, I only hooked up with you for the past⊠year.â You manage to say softly, right in the middle of the fruit aisle, Satoru was finding out you have his baby.
âYou did this alone?â He says then, blinking back emotions for a girl he barely knew, but who now has a part of him, a part he wants to know so badly suddenly, shocking him.
âI had no clue who you were, how to tell you, even if so, itâs not your responsibility okay? I take care of her just fine, I make it work.â Satoruâs heart breaks then, seeing how tired you are, seeing the endless baby items and cheap toilet paper, a cheap bottle of wine, is that all you get yourself?
You did this alone, you have his baby alone, altering your life while heâs living his just the same, partying with his best friends, working and living a luxurious life. Satoru was rich, and itâs clear his baby and his babyâs mother are struggling, and heâs here doing what? Could he have tried harder to find you!? Could heâŠ
âWeâre okay, you donât have to worry. Iâd never come for you for anything, I am happy being her mommy.â You say with a tired smile, reaching to touch her little chubby cheek, and Satoru has never seen anything so beautiful, the two of you.
Heâs felt so empty for this year, is this what he was missing?
âCan I⊠please⊠Can I know her?â He asks, gulping now, and you blink in shock, nodding quickly.
âI would love that.â You canât stop your tears then, sniffling and shaking your head. âPlease, letâs talk out of a produce aisle?â You whisper, he nods quickly, unable to take his eyes off you, off his baby.
After paying for your groceries, which you protest to, heâs out by your car now, a little minivan that makes him smile, picturing you as some pretty soccer mom already. You take her out of the car seat then, holding her carefully, smiling up nervously at Satoru. His chest swells at seeing you hold her, some instinct takes over, he instantly knows then.
He needs to take care of you both.
âI thought youâd freak out if you knew, be upset or want nothing to do withâŠâ
âGod no, no. I mean I donât know what to think, but⊠sheâs beautiful. Like her mom.â His words make you flush.
âIâm a wreck, Satoru, look at me.â
âYou just need some help, doing it all alone?â
âYou donât have to, okay? I can do it.â
He brushes a tendril back off your temple, sighing as he looks at you, at those dark circles that just make you more beautiful, but show the fragility youâre keeping under wraps as best as you can. âI want to help, this is on me too.â
âItâs not, I was on the pill but⊠antibiotics.â You grumble, holding the baby to your chest now, she is sucking on her little binkie, bright pink. âItâs all on me, Iâd love you to be in her life, but donât feel obligated to pay for anything.â
âYouâre stubborn, will she be too?â He narrows his eyes, and you giggle then, the first time in a long time youâve heard that sound.
âSheâs already stubborn, she gave me a hard time, wouldnât come out.â She wriggles then, and you step a little closer to Satoru. âWanna hold her?â
âCan you⊠tell me how to?â He asks, and you smile at him, for a tall, buff man heâs so sweet and precious, nervous even.
âYes, hold your arms like this.â He does as you ask, holding his arms out, as you gently place Reign in his arms. âHold her head just so. There you go, hey Reign, this is your dad.â
âReign?â He asks, in shock as he looks into her eyes, his eyes, but she has your nose, your hair. His lips. Sheâs⊠âPerfect.â
âIsnât she? Is it okay if I call you her dad?â
âItâs⊠perfect.â He says again, smiling at you, tears making his snowy lashes spike just so, you feel so complete then somehow. You canât explain it, seeing this melts you, and Reign is so happy she's cooing, sucking on her binky and staring at him, you watch him melt right with you. âHI there, dumpling.â
âDumpling? She's got a nickname huh.â He grins so big, nodding.
âI moved out of the city for the past year but I just came back to town. How far are you?â
âOh like ten minutes. Would you⊠like to come over tomorrow? I'd say today but my place is a wreck.â
âI'd love to. Can I get her something please?â
âYou don't have to⊠but she can always use binkies she throws these things. Ugh, see?â Reign spits out her binky and Satoru snorts as you catch it. She then touches his cheek, and he chokes up.
âI⊠oh my god. I love her?â He whispers in wonder, and you exhale, blinking tears that refuse to stop falling. âIs that crazy?â
âNo. I loved her when I first saw her too. Fuck I'm a wreck â
âHeyâŠâ He steps closer, handing you her carefully and then placing his big hands on your shoulders. âI am here now for both of you, however you'll let me be. Shh.â He brushes your back, resting his head on yours as you hold her close.
âI never thought I'd see you, tell you. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sorry.â
âYeah me too.â
Of course he is, fuck. He just found out he's a dad, and he's honestly taking it better than anyone could. He brushes your tears away, and your pulse quickens, you clear your throat then. âWe don't even know each other, it's insane huh?â
âAbsolutely insane. But⊠I can't wait to spend time with her.â He says softly, you smile up at him, trying not to read so much into it, so happy he wants to be in her life but you have to remember that doesn't mean with you.
âCome over tomorrow I'll cook you lunch? Please don't break your phone again.â He laughs then, nodding as you two exchange numbers.
âLast name is Gojo. I hope one day hers can be?â And yours, he thinks, but he knows it's crazy to say, as he watches you smile so pretty through your tears.
âMaybe we can do that someday. Well, Reign, say bye to dad.â Satoru kisses her little forehead, leaning up then, thinking of kissing you. You both stand there a moment before he opens your door, and you set Reign back in her little pink car seat. You smile up at him again. âI am sorry I'm in pajamas by the way, ugh.â
âThey're cute, little snowmen.â You snort, rolling your eyes as you slide in your car, hoping you will see him tomorrow with everything. âSee you both soon.â
You drive away, and Satoru calls his driver and assistant then. âCan you order me everything a baby girl needs? And I need it by tomorrow.â
******
Thereâs a knock on your door, you peek in the mirror one more time, you took a bath last night, your hair is shimmering and clean for once, you have just a little concealer on for those dark circles, a little lip gloss. Youâre wearing clothes and not sweats or pajamas, a little top with a cardigan and jeans, nothing fancy but you look human again.
You canât believe that Satoru will come, until you open that door and see him, standing next to a tired looking dark haired man holding an insane amount of glittery pink bags. Satoruâs grinning at you, wearing Gucci shades and a dress shirt probably worth more than your rent, only one little bag in his hand swinging side to side as he greets you.
âSatoru, you⊠what is all this?â You ask curiously, and he shrugs a broad shoulder, handing you the little bag.
âAll that is for Regin, this is for you though.â
âWhat!? Itâs too many things!â
âMiss, may I?â
You realize heâs just standing there struggling, and come to then. âOh, yes Iâm so sorry! Put them on the table?â
Satoru and Kiyotaka walk in then, you have a little place, itâs about the size of Satoruâs living room altogether, but itâs comfy and clean, lived in and every bit of it has something of you. He sees pictures of you pregnant on your little silver fridge, pictures of Reign all over, along with Christmas cards all placed with magnets. He sees youâve baked cookies, too, the scent making him starve.
Almost as much as your scent, so sweet and intoxicating, as he stands next to you, gesturing to the bags. âI wanted to get her something, remember?â
âThis is a whole store though!â Kiyotaka leaves now, and youâre delving into the bags, gasping as you pull out the softest, fuzziest pink blanket. âOh my godâŠâ
âI just had them buy everything for a girl? Is pink good?â
You giggle then, smiling as you pull out a pretty pink dress. âShe doesnât know colors yet, Satoru.â
Of course she doesnât.
Satoru truly doesnât know shit about kids, he called and told his mom, asking for advice, and almost gave her a heart attack he thinks. âOf course not, I⊠where is she? Is she napping?â
âShe is, but donât worry she usually wakes up soon. Oh these are so cute, how expensive are these!? Sheâs gonna wear them for like a week!â You ask then, pulling out a little baby pair of fancy shoes, then two more. âShe canât even walk yet⊠ah, but these are so cute though.â Youâre clearly conflicted, he chuckles a bit, then you stand up. âOh my god, Iâm a shitty host!â
âYouâre cute.â His words, all husky with that deep voice of his, make you flush now, making you even cuter to him. âYou look pretty today.â
âOh thank you, I didnât want you to think Iâm constantly a monster.â He snorts, rolling his eyes.
âYouâre cute either way. This was you pregnant?â He asks, as you lead him to the kitchen.
âYes, I was a whale, oh god.â He touches the photo then, a longing surging through him, he missed this, he missed you like this. He feels an ache washing through him, looking at your glowing face and round tummy.
âNo, you were beautiful.â Your breath catches, eyes shooting to his as he looks at you now, feeling something pulling you towards him, itâs like he takes the air out of your lungs just standing here.
âYouâre very sweet, Satoru⊠thank you.â You manage to breathe out the words, when he looks down at your body now, heating it up with his gaze.
âDid you like being pregnant?â
The words throw images in your mind, of him over you, putting more babies in you, fucking insane ones that you shove down quickly. He was clearly caring, and wanting to be involved, you needed to keep your thoughts to that and only that, despite the way your stomach is fluttering at his proximity.
âI did love being pregnant, feeling her move and kick, singing to my tummy and feeling her calm down. But towards the end it was really rough, because she decided she wasnât coming out.â You say with a little laugh, Satoru can see in how you speak how much you adore her. âWould you like to see more pictures later?â
âIâd love to. You didnât open what I got you.â
âYou shouldnât get me anything. Oh, do you want some cookies?â
âYes please.â He starts munching down on them, moaning. âYou baked these?â
âI bake when Iâm nervous? It gets insane how much I bake.â He smiles then, youâre tucking your shimmering hair behind your ear, grabbing him a glass of milk before you go grab the little bag.
âOpen it, now.â He sips his milk as you sit on the barstool by the counter, fingers gently pulling apart tissue paper, until you open a little box and see a gift card.
âTo a spa!? I havenât ever been to a spa? What I canât!â
âYou will. When youâre comfortable I could watch her, so you could get some time to yourself.â You sniffle then, the kindness of him after all the overwhelming months youâve had is too much, you shake your head.
âI canât, itâs all too much, you shouldnât feel like you have to do this!â He walks to you then, brushing a tear from your cheek, exhaling as he leans down so close.
âSweetheart, Iâm fucking rich, okay?â
âI assumed⊠wealthy with your clothesâŠâ
âNo, filthy fucking rich. Let me spend it on my baby and get her mom just a little thing please? How can you take care of her without any care for you?â
âI just do it, Satoru. I just do it.â He brushes more of your tears now, his lips far too close, you still donât know him truly but the gesture is melting every defense you may have had up.
âJust go relax one day, not now, when youâre more comfortable.â Reign starts crying then, making Satoru back off just as youâd leaned your chin up, and you two had been so close. You back away too, nervously standing.
âIâll go get her for you.â You say with a big smile, eyes still watery, and then you bring her out, Satoruâs heart swells even more than it did seeing you, he eagerly picks her up this time, versus being so nervous as before. âDad spoiled you already.â
âNot even close to spoiled yet.â He murmurs, snuggling her to him.
âHave a seat, please.â He sits on the couch with her, you take one of the many little blankets, gently laying it over her and then sitting on the couch with him, as he stares at her in wonder.
âShe barely cries?â
âThatâs around you, it seems. She likes you already.â Your words fill him with far too much happiness, a happiness heâs never known, but also such a longing.
âI wish I could have been there.â He whispers, brokenly, the handsome white haired man holding your little girl, and suddenly you can picture it, maybe his big bright smile during what was a difficult labor.
âYouâre here now.â You assure him, a hand gentle on his shoulder, the caress delicate before you think better of it, pulling your hand back. âI thought about you a lot, I mean⊠I tried to find you.â
âI wish you had.â
âReally?â He nods then, emotional. âSatoru Gojo, you surprised me, I thought for sure youâd turn and run.â
âNah, why? Look at her.â Sheâs blinking her long lashes, grinning at him then. âSo what do I like⊠do with her? Besides holding her?â
You laugh softly then, itâs so easy to have him around, it feels so natural that itâs weird. âWell you can feed her a bottle I pumped, but I breast feed mostly.â
He gulps now, looking at your top, where your nipples were pressing against the thin fabric. âOh?â
âYeah, depending on her mood, sometimes she is vicious. Iâll show you.â You gently take your top up, feeling his gaze when you pull off your nursing bra.
âThat thing is easy access.â He murmurs, you giggle a bit, nervous for him to see you when you let it drop, revealing one of your pretty breasts to him, leaving him dazed before he snaps out of it, handing you Reign.
Itâs very intimate, sitting with him while you feed her, sheâs sucking hard, so hard you wince then, her little long nails digging into your breast as Satoru smirks. âYouâre gonna laugh at this pain?â
âSheâs just like her dad, look at her go. A pro.â You snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as Reign aggressively punches your breasts for more milk.
âI wouldnât know, I donât think you did that.â You murmur thoughtfully, pushing back flashes of the night while she suckles.
âThatâs a tragedy.â You look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, while you feed his daughter, his daughter, itâs still not comprehending, itâs still taking him a lot to conceive itâs real. âLook at her face, oh my god!â
Your heart warms as he leans over, and Reign has stopped drinking, a goofy smile on her face. âSheâs milk drunk.â
âWhat now? She looks high as fuck.â You hold in your laughter so you donât wake her now, her eyes are shut and sheâs still sucking on nothing.
âShe does look stoned, it always cracks me up. Do you wanna put her to bed? Iâll show you where she sleeps.â
He nods and takes her again, watching your nipple with just a droplet of milk on it, he swipes it away before he can think better, making you shoot your eyes to him, lips parted. You hastily put the bra back up as a blush pinkens Satoruâs cheeks, slipping down your top, his touch on your sensitive nipples almost ended you just now. The desire for him in every way is almost insane.
You show him to the only room in your little place, itâs got a crib and a bassinet, and a tiny little bed that he assumes you must sleep in. You start wrapping her up in the new pink blanket then, swaddling her so tight, he watches in wonder at it, as you bundle her up.
âSheâll like a little burrito.â You snort in laughter, trying to keep quiet and covering your mouth then, looking up at Satoru in amusement.
âShe kind of is? Babies like to be swaddled, they feel comfy.â
âYou know so much⊠Have you had any experience before?â You both watch as she settles now.
âNo, I learned all this from lots of books and bugging the shit out of my mother. Though she even thought I was crazy to have her. But somethingâŠâ You trail off then, shaking your head. âSorry.â
âNo, please go on. Something?â
âSomething told me I was meant to have her, it sounds crazy. But⊠I knew I could do it, even if itâs a lot.â
Satoruâs hand comes to rest on the small of your back, as you turn your head to look back up at him, seeing the emotions written all over his perfect face. âYouâre doing great.â
You break down then at that, sobbing against his chest as he holds you, soothing rubs on your back. âI needed that, shit Iâm sorry.â
âShh, itâs okay.â You stay like that for a moment, letting him hold you against his chest, your face buried against his shirt, tears spilling freely while you take several breaths. âYouâre a great mom, I can already see.â
âShitâŠâ You pull yourself together, taking several breaths and leaning back then, Satoruâs cupping your face and it takes everything not to kiss him, this man who you still barely know. âI really appreciate that. Itâs been hard so far, but I love her so much, it's impossible how deeply.â
âI can feel it already. You, missy, need that break.â
âI couldnâtâŠâ
âI want to be involved, I want to care for her, and that means her mom too. Yeah?â You shake your head, earning his little glare. âStubborn little brat.â
âExcuse me!?â You glare right back, and he grins.
âYou are one!â
âMe a brat?â Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms.
âMmhmm.â Satoru tilts your chin up, your head falls back then, and he imagines entwining his fingers in it, imagining kissing you just like that night. He leans even closer and you pull back, clearing your throat.
âWe should step out so we donât wake her.â You murmur, when youâre back in the living room youâre carefully folding all the clothes heâs bought. âOh, I promised lunch! You up for stir fry?â
âIâm up for anything you wanna make, after eating those cookies.â You set to work, and soon the two of you are eating lunch together, Satoru moans as he devours the food. âMy god youâre a good cook.â
âThank you, I love to cook.â You nibble on your rice thoughtfully. âUgh, Iâm gonna hate leaving her to work.â
Satoru scowls now. âHuh?â
âMaternity leave is over in two weeks. Iâm just going to work part time though, so Iâll still see her plenty. Maybe Iâll bring her to work?â
âWhere do you work?â
âA library, Iâm very exciting.â Satoru grins now.
âYou look like a little librarian.â
âWhatâs that mean?â
âGoodie goodie, despite the bathroomâŠâ You both quiet then, as his mind whirls, and yours spins, remembering.
âS-Satoru!â Youâd cried out as his fingers had pumped in and out of your tight little entrance, soaking his fingers as he kissed down your neck, you watched your reflection in the mirror as he pressed you against the sink, free hand gripping you right under your chin.
âFuck, look at you? So sexyâŠâ He murmurs, the club's music pounding like your heart in your chest. He has a big hand muffling your cries as you soak his hands, dripping all over him. âHear her?â
His murmur against your ear makes you tremble, shivers sending down your spine as he builds that pressure inside you. You nod, drooling against his palm, when he is hitting that spot that has your eyes rolling back, pressing on it over and over with his long, thick fingers. Youâre screaming into his hand, ass arching against him.
âThatâs it, pretty, cum fâme huh?â
You both get quiet then, you see it clear as day, your face in that mirror as heâd filled you, and he remembers sucking your juices off his fingers, god itâs been almost a year and he canât get your taste off his mind. Heâd been with a few women here and there since he didnât think heâd see you again, but they were nothing like it, nothing like you.
How your body responded, every little muffled cry, he remembers dying to get you fully naked, planning it all out when he would call you. He wanted you to not even leave his bed, heâd fully taste you, make you cum with his mouth. Heâd get to look into your eyes as he filled you so good, have your legs up over his shoulders while he pumped inside.
Itâs like electricity in your quiet little home, the two of you sitting in a daze, your breath comes quicker when he leans across the table, brushing your cheek with his fingers, feeling the heat on them. âWarm?â He teases.
âUm, a little.â You stand then, taking his plate and smiling, acting as normal as you can. âAll done?â
âYeah, thank you.â He watches you wash them then, he canât even fathom not having a dishwasher, but youâre there with your pretty hands and that sponge. He doesnât want you to work, he doesnât want you even doing this, you should just enjoy the baby.
But with how stubborn you are, how independent? He doesnât know if youâll even take his offer when he makes it.
âHow about you come to my place with the little Dumpling this weekend? Maybe⊠stay a night? Iâll have her something set up.â
âStay the night?â You nearly break the dish youâre drying, Satoru catches it, suddenly next to you. âWho are you, Edward Cullen?â
âPshh, I look like a glittery fucking vampire?â
âA bit.â Youâre both laughing softly then, he dries the plates and you show him where to put them up. âItâs nice having a giant around.â
âAlmost whacked my head on your ceiling fans.â
âThe hardships of being stupidly tall, hmm?â
âHmm.â He leans against the counter now, snowy lashes lowering as he studies you intently, those eyes that just do something to you, even after this long. It feels like youâve known him, when one of his hands delicately brushes down your shoulder, feeling the soft knit of your cardigan. âYou dress like a little librarian.â
âDo I now? Not that night.â
His nostrils flare just a bit. âNot that night.â
Satoru had you lifted on that sink, sinking inside you for the first time, damn near whimpering in your ear as he kissed on your breasts, trying to yank them out as much as he could but failing. âSlutty little dress.â
âS-slutty? Youâre⊠slutty!â Youâre clinging to him as he stuffs you so full, too fucking full, your cunt is drooling down his veiny length as he fucks into you, your thighs pressing against his narrow hips.
âBoth are, listen to her⊠haâŠâ Heâs got one hand cupping your face, looking at you before he slams his lips down, tongues dancing while his cock keeps thrusting, tip dragging your spot, as you fall apart in the bathroom, a tangle of limbs intermingling with muffled cries. âF-fuckâŠâ
âThat dress still does things to my mind.â He admits, and you wonder then, howâd you both get so close? How were you nearly flush against him?
âDoes it now?â Your attempt at a tease meets with a broken voice, and you clear your throat, looking down shyly. âI donât think my ass would fit in it now, your baby girl gave me some hips.â
âI bet theyâre sexy.â
âShe gave me stretch marks too.â
âSexy.â
âYouâre ridiculous.â You shake your head then, brushing a hand up his chest, wondering just what his body looks like. He's clearly built, you can tell he's muscular, but you have to wonder just how he looks. âYou⊠donât date anyone?â
âNah. I mean I have had some dates this year, but nothing serious.â He couldnât say itâs because of you, because he compares women to this random girl he felt such a pull to, and now itâs a million times worse. Even picturing cute little stretch marks from having his baby makes Satoru feral, it takes a lot not to show you, to act cool and calm with a little smirk.
âI havenât at all. I mean⊠Iâm so busy with Reign, and the pregnancy.â
âBeen a while then?â His words are full of suggestion, his hand now brushes the air across your waist, hovering, like he wants to pull you in, and youâd let him, when Reign starts crying. You both step apart, his hands in his pockets, yours nervously fidgeting with your sweater.
âIâll go get her.â You come back with her now, and Satoru lights up at seeing her in your arms, bending down to kiss her downy soft hair, sighing.
âWhy does she smell so good?â
âBaby smell. I know, itâs addictive.â You inhale her scent, smiling as you are once again a centimeter from Satoruâs lips, your gaze goes to them, glossy and plump.
âWill you come this weekend?â
âY-yeah, Iâll be there Satoru.â
âI am going to learn things, I promise.â
âSatoru, just take it one day at a time. Youâre doing great.â He nods then, gulping down his every emotion as he leaves you two, and it feels so awful and wrong to leave you both, every force in the world pulling him back.
âHowâd it go, Mr. Gojo?â Kiyotaka asks, as heâs driving him back home.
âAmazing. They're so beautiful.â
âThey?â
âI meanâŠâ You both are. âKiyotaka, do you know shit about babies?â The man smiles tiredly then, shaking his head.
âNo, Mr. Gojo, but I see youâre so⊠happy?â
Satoru has a silly grin then. âI am, I want to set something up for them, think you can order more baby things? For my place?â
âCertainly, Sir.â He smiles as he watches Satoru in the rearview mirror, he never would have pictured something like this, but itâs clear Satoru is beaming.
*****
âCome in, come in!â You pause in awe as you carry Reign inside Satoruâs insanely beautiful home. It's probably ten of your place if not more, sleek and elegant, everything brand new and sparkling clean. Heâs instantly taking Reign, who is babbling at him as he cradles her, melting you completely before you even take a step.
âYour place is beautiful.â You murmur, he smiles at you then, taking your diaper bag off your arm and leading you inside.
âThank you for coming, I missed her already!? Yes I did, dumpling!â He plants kisses all over her face now, Satoru Gojo holding your baby just did things to your heart, rewired your brain, seeing them both light up.
âShe missed you too.â You murmur softly, Satoru looks at you then, white teeth glinting under the soft lights, taking in your pretty dress.
âMama looks pretty.â He whispers, loud on purpose clearly, youâre a blushing mess, when Satoruâs blue eyes sweep over you.
âYouâre too much.â You say, but youâre lowkey falling bad, youâd talked with him so much these past few days, as he asked endless questions, but also as you two got to know each other. Youâd fallen asleep on the phone last night, Satoru had listened to your light little snore, smiling and falling asleep with you.
It seems too easy, which terrifies you, but so far itâs been Satoru being excited to be a dad, so you keep trying to remind yourself that is what this was, but itâs hard when he looks at you that way. âToo much? You havenât seen shit. Come on.â
âOh god.â You follow him now, as he leads you through a wide open hall, winking at you.
âYa ready?â
âI think so?â He opens the door and it takes your breath for a moment, itâs a fully done nursery with everything a baby could need and more. Thereâs a pretty crib, a bassinet, a rocking chair even, itâs painted a baby pink with little teddy bears lining the ceiling.Â
âI know, I went overboard, I donât know how to not go overboard when I do things? And I want the best for her? I know you probably wonât be-â
âSatoru.â
âHmm?â
You smile then, placing a hand over his where it rests on Reignâs lap. âItâs beautiful, itâs so beautiful.â
He exhales in relief then. âYeah!?â
Youâre giggling now. âYeah.â
âMommy likes it, yes!â His enthusiasm is infectious, itâs the first time you think youâve truly been light hearted in so long, as he places her gently in the crib. âI had my mom go crazy and paid for it to get set up, really I did nothing but pay out.â
âItâs the most thoughtful thing in the world.â You hug him then on impulse, before pulling back shyly, your eyes meet each other, his hands on your waist. âBut how will she go back to my shitty place? I hope she doesnât get bougie.â
âI want her bougie.â You laugh again softly, sheâs playing with the little ovehanging baby mobile, sheâs enamored by the hanging stars. You watch him lean over the crib then. âSheâs a princess, you know.â
You canât take it then, you have to step out, shaking now, struggling to catch your breath, when Satoru steps out with you, looking at you with concern. Your feelings of him are utterly overwhelming, the beauty of Satoru fawning over his little girl puts these thoughts in your mind, of being a real family. As someone who didnât have a father, and didnât think Reign would, the hope filling you is so much.
âI got too excited.â He nervously admits, leaning against the wall next to you and rubbing the back of his neck. âI want her to have everything, if my mom didnât talk me out of it sheâd already have a pony.â You snort then, even through your tears. âThere, a little laugh.â
âItâs not you, this is amazing, itâs just⊠I planned my life, I planned it all out with her, alone. And now⊠we wonât be? I donât know how to process it, how to really believe it. But Iâm so happy sheâll have it.â
âCâmere.â He pulls you against him into a big hug, arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you against his chest. âI didnât think Iâd have this, a baby girl? I know what you mean, itâs not what I pictured.â
âExactly. And⊠maybe I enjoy this too much.â You look up at him now, his lips quirked up at the side.
âMe too much?â He raises a brow.
âMaybe.â
âHmm.â Satoru leans down close, when the doorbell rings, he exhales then, laughing softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead. âSo I may have invited my mom. Is that okay?â
âOf course it is.â You are trying to calm your nerves when you meet her, long silky white hair and bright blue eyes. It's clear those genetics are strong, she surprises you by wrapping you in a hug.
âWhereâs this grandbaby of mine?â
Soon sheâs melting over Reign like the two of you have been, and Satoruâs made you both hot cocoa, family isnât something youâve really had, and to feel this comfortable and good? Itâs almost like some dream, as you all are so cozy inside, and Reign is just getting fawned over, giving you a little bit of a reprieve until sheâs hungry.
âI have a bottle, do you wanna feed her, Satoru?â
âI can do that?â You smile at him, nodding, and soon heâs got a bottle in her mouth, you position his arm just so as his mom watches you both with a knowing smile on her face.
âYou know, I could always babysit sometime. For you two⊠to go out.â You both blush now, looking up at her.
âGo out?â You almost squeak the words out, sipping your cocoa now that it's gone just a little cold, enamored with watching Satoru.
âYes, go out. Parents need time away.â
âWeâre not⊠umâŠâ
âIâd take you out.â Satoru says softly, and you feel those butterflies in your tummy going wild.
âYeah?â You manage to ask, failing at being subtle.
âYeah.â He smirks a bit, then Reign coughs. âWhatâs wrong!?â
âShe needs to burp, calm down.â You lift her against your chest, patting her back now. âThis is what youâll do, itâs just some air in her tummy.â
âOh thank god.â
âYou three are precious.â His mom checks her phone then. âI have a meeting, but I hope to see much more of you both.â
âMe too Mrs. Gojo!â She smiles, planting a kiss on Reignâs head then yours before she leaves. âSheâs amazing!?â
âI know, right? She was dying to meet her.â His hand rubs Reignâs little back, so big itâs as long as her almost, his other arm resting over the couch, brushing against you when he leans closer. âThank you for having her.â
âOh, Satoru⊠I just wishâŠâ
âYeah, me too.â He inhales and exhales, his eyes swimming with emotions. âI wish badly. I hate that I missed her coming into the world.â
âIâm so sorry⊠but I swear, sheâll not remember that, she wonât remember it at all.â
âBut you remember.â
âSatoru, it's not your fault, donât dare blame yourself.â He sighs now, his hand dropping off Reign to rest on your thigh over the thin black tights you wore.
âI donât want you working yet. Will you let me help?â
âSatoruâŠâ You shake your head. âYou are not going to pay my bills.â
âThen stay with me? Stay the year with your baby⊠with our baby, please. She should have her mom home.â
âItâs too much of an offer, I canât just live here! We arenât evenâŠâ
âIf you hate it Iâll get you your own place. I promise. Just let me take care of you⊠of both of you?â You stand, turning away, Satoruâs hands grip the sides of your arms as he leans close. âPlease think about it.â
âIâm not a charity case, Satoru. Iâm okay where I am.â
âI know that, okay? But I missed all of the pregnancy, I didnât get to help with any medical bills, anything. Please justâŠâ He turns your chin to face him, his glossy lips ever tempting as they hover just above yours. âPlease think about it.â
âItâs overwhelming, okay?â He nods then, you lean back just so, feeling his lithe body against your back, leaning back just so.
âYouâre not alone anymore.â
âSatoruâŠâ He wraps his arm around you, resting his chin on your head. âYou donât have to do all this.â
âI want to.â For you and Reign, but Satoru can tell your pride is getting in the way, and he can tell youâre conflicted. âGive it time, no rush, yeah?â
*****
After a few weeks of constantly being at Satoruâs house, you damn near almost live there. You come over at about the same time Satoruâs off work, and he learns more and more about Reign every single day. Heâs learned how to change diapers, how to feed her, and learns what certain cries mean. Reign rolls over for the first time on her mat and youâve never seen anyone more excited than Satoru.
He takes selfies with her and they are Insta famous, he has Reignâs name painted on the nursery door, though she tends to still sleep in the room you stay in, with her little bassinet. Satoruâs had you in the guest room, but what you donât know is at night he checks on you both, he kisses Reignâs forehead and tucks you in, he watches how cute the both of you are.
He watches you with Reign, ever attentive, and itâs about the time youâd have to go back to work, he can feel how devastated you are thinking of it, when you all are quietly sitting in the living room, having nibbled on takeout as Reign sleeps. You take a breath then, looking at the man youâre falling deeper for every day, every moment you spend with him.
âSatoruâŠâ
âYeah, sweets?â His little nickname always does something to you.
âI would love to stay with you, to stay home with her for a few more months, if youâre sure itâs still okay?â
Satoru jumps up then, picking you up and spinning you, youâre laughing breathlessly as he eases you down, and youâre flush against his body. Despite the endless times youâve ached to kiss him, to do so much more, you both have been a little apprehensive, you both donât know whatâs okay, whatâs not. You both feel far, far too much and are afraid of it.
âYouâll stay!?â
âIâll stay. But Iâll cook, and help pick up, and-â
âShh. Just stay.â Heâs cupping your face, heâs so close you can almost taste his sweet breath, your lashes lowering over your eyes now. âI want you with her, let me do that for you? And⊠I want you here. All the time I⊠miss you when youâre not.â
âAre you giving me puppy dog eyes!?â You demand with a grin, and he pouts his lips.
âMaybe. Is it working?â
âItâs working.â You donât stop yourself, not this once, when you lean up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his, and when you do, the eclectic shocks shoot from his lips, itâs just like that night a year ago, but more intense. You pull back nervously, looking away. âIâm sorry, IâŠâ
âNo.â Is all he says, pulling you back, bending low and taking over your lips, he moves them gently over yours, big hands taking over your waist and dragging you closer, mouth opening, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips. Your mouth opens in a gasp, and then his tongue delves inside it. âDonât apologize for kissing me.â
âSatoruâŠâ Heâs exhaling against your lips, kissing you again, soon your back is on the couch, and heâs moving over you, his hand trailing your waist, up to your breasts, your hands clinging to his shirt, gripping the smooth fabric as you fall apart from his kisses. Theyâre sweet, intense kisses, slow like he wants to savor every moment with you, growing more and more insistent.
He pulls up, just looking at you now, your thighs are around his hips, you feel that ache between them, not just physically either, you crave more and more of him, and you have been since you saw him again. You both just look at each other, speaking without words as he slips up your top, and you yank it nervously, earning his frown, stopping your hand.
âNot ready yet?â He asks, you shake your head.
âYou wonât⊠Iâm not⊠I donât like my tummy anymore.â You admit softly, tears threatening to spill, Satoru lifts your shirt then, leaning down and running his thumb across the little stretch marks Reign left.
âWell, baby girl⊠I love your tummy. Should I show you?â You shake your head, breaths coming quicker and quicker now. âYou had my baby, you carried her for me, and she left you more beautiful than before.â
âOh, SatoruâŠâ He kisses your tummy then, and desire shoots straight through you, your hands finally entwining in that silky hair youâve craved to feel for so long, heâs looking at you under lidded eyes, pressing kisses lower.
âYouâre beautiful everywhere. I bet it was sexy pregnant.â
You giggle just a bit, making Satoru smile against your skin, fingers tugging down your pants then, earning a little cry that makes his cock so hard it hurts. Heâs been dying to taste you on his tongue, to feel you around his fingers, watch that pretty face in pleasure again, but heâs tried to take his time, tried to focus on Reign, but the thing is, he loves both of you.
Heâs in love with you.
The way you move, the way you smile, the way you are with his baby? How your eyes brighten when Reign did something new, how you blushed when he gave you a compliment. But also, how your hips are shifting now, how your eyes are getting lidded, dilated with desire, and how the little silver lines run across where his baby was inside you.
âSatoru⊠that feels too good I⊠mmm!â You cry out quietly when his fingers find your slick heat, finding you drenched already.
âYou this easy for me?â He asks, you want to retort, something witty, but you canât, you just gasp out in pleasure when heâs got your pants off, and heâs parting your thighs, long fingers pressing in the plush of your skin as he stares at your pussy. âFuck youâre pretty.â
Youâre trembling as youâre fully bare in front of him, his breath on your clit alone makes you jerk, he places a teasing flick of his tongue right on your clit, you cover your mouth to hide the pathetic moan. He flicks his tongue again, thumps slipping the plump lips of your sex apart, watching the wetness pool out of your little hole, he catches it with his tongue, groaning as he tastes you.
Your hands clutch his hair so hard youâre tugging at his head, eyes rolling back in your skull, biting your lip hard not to make too much noise. He looks up at you, slinking his tongue all the way up your dripping pussy now, from your hole to your clit, groaning as you drip all over his mouth, his face.
âIt tastes as good as I remember.â He whispers, enjoying that ruby red blush on your cheeks. âYouâre so cute like this, sensitive?â
âYouâre torturing me.â He chuckles, the hot air making you whimper, a sound that shoots desire through him. âPleaseâŠâ
âPlease what, pretty?â He casually licks you once more, leisurely as if he has all the time in the world, tilting his head just so to flick the underside of it, watching the tiny little clit twitch. âUse your words, sweetheart.â
âMake me cum, please.â He moans then, devouring your pussy, his movements less teasing and precise and sloppy, now, lapping up all the juices that pour as you cry out in pleasure, hips bucking up for more, then you feel his fingers sliding in and out of you now, pressing in deep, finding that spongy spot that makes you shiver.
âThere you go, youâre clenching me sâgood. Canât wait to feel you around me.â He murmurs, curling his fingers just so, your legs are shaking so hard, youâre falling off that edge, chest rising and falling with your breaths.
âM-gonna⊠ToruâŠâ Satoru moans now, the sound vibrating against your heat, he looks at you then, eyes dilated and dark, leaning up, his chin coated in your slick, shimmering.
âCum for me, baby.â At that he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, humming and making you shatter under him.
You come so hard you see stars bursting, eyes rolled back, your mouth in the most slutty O as you gasp out, youâre arching off the couch, his name a quiet little broken scream in the quiet room. You feel his smug grin against your sensitive bud, as he nips at it then with his teeth, making you jerk and whimper, leaning back to study your clenching little hole.
âThere you go, so good for me, hmm?â He coles those words, slipping up you now, sliding his finger up and down your drippy slit, kissing you, letting you taste yourself off him.
âNeed you. All of you.â You murmur then, he pauses his kisses, looking down at you, and emotions surge and mix with the pleasure, the insane need for him to fill you, over and over again.
âIf we do, I want more than just⊠co parenting. I want more than just sex. I wantâŠâ Satoru gulps then, cupping your face carefully, your hand comes to grip his wrist, thumb brushing over his strong, fluttering pulse.
âI want more too.â You admit, swallowing nervously, as one of your hands rests on his chest.
âI want you to be my girl.â Youâre crying then, nodding eagerly at his sweet and pure words, when heâs kissing you again, salty tears mixing with your taste. âWill you be? My girl?â
âI would love to be yours.â He moans again, standing then, helping you up, your arms wrap around his neck as he carries you, your lips donât separate when he backs into his bedroom.
âWant you in my bed, every night.â He whispers, easing you onto the floor to stand, slipping your top off and revealing your breasts which sway just a bit, you eagerly unbutton his shirt, showing every inch of his chiseled, perfect frame. You gasp when you finally see him, fingertips trailing across sculpted muscles.
âYouâre perfect, Satoru.â You whisper in wonder, and he cups your face again, kissing you deeply, a kiss so beautiful it ruins you forever, Satoru has ruined you forever, you know now what you knew that night deep down. âItâs only you.â
âItâs only you. Youâre perfect.â You gasp as he picks you up again, laying you on the bed, youâre eagerly tugging on his pants, gasping when you see his huge, veiny length, something youâd had inside of you bud hadnât even seen. You stroke him, earning his soft whine, he pins your wrist above your head.
âLemme touch him, please?â You beg, earning both your hands pinned, as you laugh breathlessly.
âNo way, Iâm not busting quick, Iâve waited too long for this.â You giggle, earning his pretty glare. âIâm not.â
âYou didnât bust quick that night?â
âYeah, I did.â You shake your head at him, gasping when heâs pressing against your entrance, he tenses, muscles flexing, when suddenly you both hear it, Reign on the baby monitor. âShit.â
âShitâŠâ You both stay completely silent. âMaybe sheâll stop?â
âI sure hope so. Need to get you pregnant again.â
You blink in shock now, as Reign quiets. âHuh!?â
Satoru grins, a devious fucking grin, as he presses your legs apart, one over his shoulder, sinking in as you bite your lip, so filled by him, trembling beneath him as you roll your hips. âI need to see you pregnant, gonna be so fucking sexy.â
âYouâre insane, Satoru Gojo.â You gasp when he shoves his length fully inside you, bottoming out and youâre so full you canât breathe, clinging to his bare shoulders desperately as he moans, feeling your walls flutter.
âYou didnât know that yet? Iâll have to show you, sweetheart.â Heâs fucking you then so good, thrusting in and out of your slick cunt, which is drooling all the way down his veiny length. Heâs smirking as he rolls his hips just so, watching you start to come apart. âYou love it, huh? Cock filling you so deep?â
âPleaseâŠâ His leaking tip kisses your cervix, you shudder under him, cumming so hard you canât tether yourself anymore, and he revels in it, in your pretty face all scrunched up, all reddened as you cry out.
âThatâs it, canât help yourself? Want me to fucking fill you?â
âPleaseâŠâ
âYouâre such a good girl, hmm?â The words short circuit whatâs left of your brain, as Satoru leans back on his knees, hands slipping up your body, gripping your breasts, which have little droplets of milk. You whimper, trying to cover them. âAh-ah.â
He leans forward, sucking them then, youâre so sensitive you scream, thanking everything Satoru has a huge home and that the baby couldnât hear anything, because the sounds he writhes out of you are filthy. He leans up, licking the little droplets off and grinning again, possessively gripping your throat, hovering over you as his cock slides in again.
âGod, even thatâs sweet. All of you. Sweet and slutty.â He huffs, youâre kissing him desperately, nails pressing against his scalp as they grip his hair. âMy girl, youâre all mine now, hmm?â
âWanna be⊠y-your girl.â You whisper, ending him as your cunt gushes down on him, as he feels the tight muscles grip him like a vise, he eases back, shoving your legs up then in a mating press, every instinct making him crave to make you his again. Cum in you, fill you, make you pregnant. âToru⊠I havenât⊠not a lot of⊠exper-ah!â
âThatâs alright baby, Iâll fuck you so good, all you gotta do is take it, yeah? Look so fucking pretty fâme.â The sweet, emotional and cute Satoru is now feral, psychotic and possessive, his eyes so blue they hurt to look at, but youâre nodding eagerly. Youâve never been fucked like this, not even close, but he assures you, over and over that you can take him. âThatâs right, gonna take all of me.â
Your thighs are smushed against your breasts as Satoru fucks you harder, perfect strokes that hit every spot, spots you canât even figure out, the ridge of his cock hitting again and again until youâre close, already having cum twice. Youâre sobbing under him as he leans his weight on your thighs, folding you in half and going deeper, deeper, bottoming out.
His balls slap heavy on your ass, so full and ready to pump his load in your eager hole, youâre a mess, tears on your cheeks, mumbling incoherently, pussy drooling and loosening more and more. You take him, all of him greedily then, as he slows just a bit, leaning up to press your thighs even higher, watching his cock disappear as your cunt sucks him in.
âOh look, sheâs taking me sâgood, she wants it huh? You want it, greedy, slutty pussy.â Heâs talking to your pussy, but you also canât care, not when youâre so close, incoherently whining. âCanât talk, sweetheart?â
âGonna⊠cum⊠again⊠Satoru!â He moans as you speak his name, using a forearm to press your legs up, angling his cock just so, shoving deep as he presses a thumb to your clit, ending you utterly.
âThere you go, cum on lemme fuckin feel her milk me.â He huffs, husky voice hoarse as your orgasm washes over you, full body, youâre shaking and sobbing as your arousal pours down him, making him tense, gasping. âOh fuckâŠâ
âCum in me. Cum in me, please.â You beg weakly, and Satoru does then, full mating press, pumping all his cum so deep, filling you to the brim as he leans down, whimpering with you, tongues sloppy as you kiss.
âFeel sâperfect⊠gonna make you a mommy again, yeah?â You nod weakly, cunt throbbing as he pumps more and more, nails pressing into his back as you both ride your orgasms out, until youâre sensitive messes. âF-fucking⊠b-babyâŠâ
âSatoru, g-godâŠâ He is exhaling, easing your sore thighs down then, pulling out and watching the mess that pours from your pussy, a mix of his cum and yours, he grins at it.
âYouâre so messy, hmm?â He shoves two fingers in your cunt, pushing his cum back in as you scream out. âAww, you canât take it baby?â
âToo much, ngh!â Satoru slips his fingers out, sucking on them and moaning, before repeating it, shoving them in your mouth, you moan as you suck them greedily, both kissing again, a tangled mess of limbs.
âTaste us together, god.â
âSo yummy.â He kisses you again, again, again, as you struggle to come back down, heart still racing. âMy godâŠâ
âYeah, holy fuck.â
âYouâre like⊠you have a breed kink like bad.â He snorts then, kissing up the side of your neck.
âCould it have to do with the fact that my girl is gorgeous with my baby? And Iâd love to really see her pregnant?â
âI want you there too. I do, even if this is insane.â
âIs it?â
âYes, first we have a baby, then we move in together? What next, a first date?â
âYou know⊠yes. Mom offered?â
You giggle at him. âSo is this you asking me on a date!?â
âMmhmm, with my cum pouring out. Wasting it, tsk tsk.â He starts kissing down your body again, when Reign cries, this time loudly. âUgh.â
âUgh.â You agree, brushing back his hair when he kisses your tummy. âYou make me feel beautiful, Satoru.â
âYou are.â He says simply, kissing you deeply, helping you up. âMost beautiful girls there are.â
âIâŠâ You almost say it, but youâre still so afraid, those words on the tip of your tongue. Satoru smiles as if he knows.
âGo check on her.â
âYeah.â You are soon all dressed, and Reign is no longer crying once she gets swaddled, her binky in her mouth. Satoru comes behind you, arms wrapping you tightly and pulling you against him.
âSo, that date?â
âMmm, got plans already?â You look back at him, as he holds you so sweetly in the quiet room.
âYeah, the spa you never went to, brat.â
âOh! Yes, letâs.â
*****
Satoru Gojo and you have had a baby, then moved in, and then you had your first date, which was both of you getting pampered, you were giggling when Satoru kept eating the cucumbers meant for his eyes, when he moved the masseuse because he got jealous of him. âMy girl, Iâll rub your back.â
âSo jealous.â You tease, but you then sigh in pleasure as his big hands rub your body just so.
âMaybe I am. Maybe I donât ever wanna lose my girls.â You pause then, leaning up, breasts revealed as youâre just wearing a little towel. But Satoruâs eyes are serious, when he gently rubs his hands down to the back of your hips.
âYouâre not losing us.â Heâs kissing you, leaning over you in the spa, when he whispers in your ear.
âLetâs go.â
In the backseat of Satoruâs driverâs car, headed back home, you and Satoru devour each other, his hands on your rib cage, his lips on your nipples. Your head falling back, arching up for more, never, ever able to get enough. Heâs filling you again, and youâre soaking him again, heâs fucking up into you one moment, one moment youâre controlling it.
A push and pull, a back and forth, endless kisses, until heâs filled you up again, whispering the lewdest things, picturing you as his wife, picturing you pregnant again, but the words are coming out as muffled, dirty words that donât match. And you feel the same, you think the same, but youâre too fucked out to speak, too lost in everything that is Satoru Gojo.
That night, Reign is up and down, and youâve just given her a bath, singing to her and cradling her. Satoru watches you, emotions catching in his throat, as a sliver of moonlight darts through the windows, illuminating the faces of the two girls he adores. Reign is being fussy, huffing, but then she hears you sing, and sheâs calming, drifting off just so.
You catch him watching you, smiling at him, laying her back down gently. Satoru leans over, brushing a thumb across her cheek, as she sleeps so peacefully. âI love you, dumpling.â He murmurs to her, your heart aches at his words, as you repeat them softly to her, and Satoru wraps an arm around you.
âI love both of you.â You look at him then, so nervous, but he exhales, kissing you softly, feeling tears fall from his eyes, pulling back to see youâre trembling. âI know itâs a lot, but you have to know that I love you. I love both of you so much it hurts.â
âI love both of you.â Your heart hammers in your chest, as a hand slips up your back, and he leans down, blue eyes swirling with tears. âIâll take care of you both, always. I⊠Iâm complete now, with you both. I canât ever lose you.â
âSatoru, never. I never want to be without you again.â Your hushed whispers are followed by sweet kisses, until you both close the door quietly, and Satoru has you picked up in his arms, effortless as you hold onto him, resting your foreheads against each other. âIâm home, here.â
âYou are home, here. Want you to have my last name, both of you. Please.â You nod, sniffling as he carries you, kissing you desperately, pressing you against the door of his room once youâre back inside. âNeed you to have my last fuckinâ name.â
âWe will, Satoru. Weâll all be Gojos, hmm?â He grins so big then, easing you down and turning you, vivid memories of that night filling your mind, overwhelming your senses. Your head falls back as he kisses down your neck, slipping your shorts to the side to find you.
âSo ready fâme?â You nod weakly. âGood, need to have a whole fucking clan of Gojos, yeah? Gonna give it to me?â
âMnh, yes.â
You would give Satoru anything, and finally every piece that seemed so out of sorts is in place, as you found something you didnât know was missing, and he found a family he didnât know he had. As he eagerly works you so well that night again, you also know you want to give him more.
@levievent's Levi Month 2025 Day 03: "like it or not, you're stuck with me."
Summary: in which you find yourself locked in a storage room for seven minutes with levi, the person you dislike the mostâ at least, that's what you think.
Word count: 3500w
Content/Warnings: explicit content! drinking, dub-con, lots of licking and sucking (reader receiving), fingering, semi public sex, p in v sex
if you prefer reading on Ao3, click here.
daaaaamn i wanted to put a really sexy gif up there but it doesnt feel right and idk whyđ
âOh! I know who to send with Levi into the stock room!â
Thereâs a gleam in Hangeâs eyeglasses that makes you flinch and nearly choke on your beer when they look at you. That doesnât look good. Youâve only known Hange for a year and a half, but you already know well enough that that look only means trouble.
You wipe the side of your mouth with the back of your hand.
Hange eagerly shouts your name.
Your face feels hot. You arenât sure if itâs the beer or your blood is just boiling.
âYou canât do that! You need to roll the dice!â You look at the others for help, but they donât seem to be against Hangeâs decisionâ theyâre all smiling like angels at you.Â
When your eyes fall on Levi, he smirks and says, âLike it or not, youâre stuck with me.â
God, you always want to wipe that smirk off his face with a goddamn wet tissue.
âOoh! This is exciting!â Hange gets up on their feet, fingers curling in anticipation.
âItâs about time you guys make outâ I mean, make up!â Nanaba laughs loudly and then dawns her beer.
You kick at the seven-sided toy block showing Leviâs number as you get up. It rolls away towards Miche, hitting him on the shin, then it stops with your number displayed on the surface.
Miche hums, amused. You roll your eyes hard at him, then you follow Hange and Levi down the short hallway leading to a small storage room.
âYou better tell me there arenât any rats in there,â you grumble.
Theyâre grinning when they open the door. âSweetie, Iâll have you know that Levi is a clean freak.â
Said man goes in without any hesitation. You follow, glaring at Hange on your way.
They blow you a flying kiss before pushing the door closed with a loud thud and a shout of: âRemember, no turning the lights on!â
The sudden and complete darkness makes you flinch, the clicking of the lock makes you gulp.Â
You know you shouldnât have come here. You donât really belong in their circle, you just happen to be assigned to the same faculty lounge with them. Sure, you are friends, even eating lunch with them sometimes, but you donât consider yourself close to any of them. Lucky you, Hange thinks otherwise, insisting you join them tonight. Youâd be lying if you said the idea of drinking didnât sound better than grading test papers from three different sections on a Friday night, especially with a long weekend coming.
The catch thoughâ it was at the house they all rent together. You assumed it would be at some resto bar or KTV downtown, drinking beers and stuffing yourself with good finger foods while singing 90's songs on top of your lungs, not thisâ playing seven minutes in heaven like youâre some group of horny teenagers.
Your fingers card through your hair as you let out a loud, exasperated sigh. Then you walk, which isnât exactly one of the brightest moments in your life because your toe hits something.
âOw! Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!!â You jump on one foot, the other raised to your hip so you could rub the sore spot. You let out sharp puffs through your mouth, as if it would assuage the pain.
Levi doesnât even react. You bet heâs in his usual stanceâ scowl on his face, arms crossed, leaning against some wall, right foot over left. Itâs one of the things you donât like about himâ itâs like heâs always daring the entire room to challenge him and heâs confident heâll win.
You walk again, carefully this time, dragging your feet against the floor. You canât just stay still. The darkness makes your skin crawl, you feel like something will jump at you and eat you alive. Plus, being with someone you barely know makes you uncomfortable, someone you donât like that much.
Well, itâs not like heâs done anything to make you feel this way about him. You donât hate him, but you donât like him either. Heâs got a lot of that already, a long list of teachers â even students â constantly fawning over him. You never understood them, you never found Levi special after all. Sure, heâs handsome. Heâs attractive, fine. The way he carries himself with so much confidence is hot. Thereâs something sexy with the way he stares at you with those piercing steel grey eyes, like he could read your mind or heâs seeing right through your soul. God, even his arms look sexy, especially when theyâre crossed over his chest or when his muscles are flexed while doing something strenuous during P.E. (Okay, fine, heâs sexy. Heâs the physical manifestation of sexyness. There.) He plays basketball like a pro even when heâs not that tall. He even defeated Erwin in a one-on-one match, which, by the way, you had no intentions of watching, but thanks to the sweat on his face and arms, your co-teachers stopped and started fangirling. (Okay, fine, you stared too.) The way he dribbled the ball, faked Erwin, and shot a three-point shot with only two seconds on the clock was sick (and hot.) Heâs also a P.E. teacher and a Math teacher, and heâs also good at Scienceâ which you learned from Hange, who wouldnât stop talking about Levi to you. Like you give a damn.
Your knee hits something, you try to reach for whatever it is. You feel something soft andâ
âYaaaa!â You shriek, turning away and shaking your fingers in disgust.
âWhat the fuck are you even trying to do?â Leviâs gravelly voice sounds near. It sends shivers up your spine to not know where he is, how close he is.
âMoving aroundâŠâ you answer dumbly, turning on your heel. âIâmââ
âFucking stupid.â
âJesus, do you always have to be harsh?â
You donât see his eyes growing wide, guilt blanketing his face for a split second.
âI just hate the dark.â You let out a shaky breath. âAnd⊠and itâs⊠itâs just too dark. I donât like it.â Your hands fly to your arms, rubbing your skin in an attempt to calm yourself. You could feel it, the panic, your breathing getting heavier. You begin to remember events you tried so hard to forgetâ your father and mother screaming, fighting about late bill payments, how quickly it escalated when your mom brought up your dadâs illicit affair years ago. Lightning struck the sky, sharp and loud like your motherâs anger, illuminating your dark room in a split-second. Then the breaking of glasses, the screaming, the poundingâ
âKeep talking.â
Your breath catches in your throat. The memories stop. You see dark once more.
âWhat?â Your voice is barely audible.
âKeep talking.âÂ
You hear the rustling of fabric.
âA-about what? About History?â
Footsteps. Soft taps on the floorboards.
âWhatever the fuck you want.â
You immediately rake through your brain for your favorite history fun facts. âUhh⊠well⊠Napoleon was once attacked by a rabbit,â you say, turning left to right, fingers digging into your arms. âAfter signing Treaties of Tilsit in 1807, he suggested a rabbit hunt. Rabbits were collected, then released from their cages, but instead of turning to flee, the bunniesââ
You gasp, feeling Leviâs hands on your waist.
âKeep talking,â he says in a much lower voice, his breath that still smells of beer is hot against the side of your mouth.
Jesus Christ.
âLeviââ
He presses his pelvis against yours. Fuckâ whyâs he fucking hard???
âWhat are you doing?â You question, hands flying to his arms.Â
Muscles. You feel muscles. Holy shit.
His right hand lays flat at the small of your back, the other goes up and settles at the nape of your neck.
âTrying to calm you down.â
His voice drops lower. It sounds so fucking sexy.
Shit. Shit, no.
âWhatââ
He kisses your jaw. The sound of his lips against your skin makes your insides tingle.
âLevi, youââÂ
Youâre not entirely sure if you want to tell him to stop or not.
âWhat happened to the bunnies?â He nuzzles his nose in your neck. He breathes in deeply, like he wants to suck all of you into his system.
âLevi, I think youâre drunk.â You whisper-shout. Your hands shoot up to his shoulders, but they donât move. He kisses the junction between your neck and collar, and a moan escapes your throat.
âTell me what happened to the bunnies.â His nose bumps into yours when he slants his face to the opposite side, licking and kissing at your skin.
Fuck, your knees almost buckle, your fingers digging into the back of his shoulders. âTheyâŠthey ran up the emperor's legs. Someâ some even climbed his jacket⊠soâ so the militaryâ Levi, oh my god.â
He keeps sucking on your neck.
You should be pushing him away, but your eyes only roll to the back of your head.
âWhat about the military?â He pushes the shoulder of your cardigan away, revealing your spaghetti strap blouse over more skin. He sucks a kiss on your collarbone.
Holy shit, his mouth feels good.
âTheyâ they retreated.â
His slender fingers lace at the back of your neck, and then he crashes his lips into yours, effectively sucking the air right out of your lungs.
Your eyes widen like saucers, your nails digging into his shoulders youâre sure theyâll leave marks.Â
Leviâs lips move slowly against yours, like heâs in no hurry at all, and all you do is stare into the void of darkness behind his back. You canât even begin to think to stop him. No, you donât, because you actually donât want him to stop.
The realization slaps you so hard you pull him close, as if heâs the anchor thatâs keeping you from levitating.
He tightens his arms around you, you shut your eyes tight and throw your arms around his neck, reeling him in as if thereâs more gap to close. He slowly and carefully pushes you until your back hits a shelf, and then heâs kissing your jaw again, your neck, your chest, sucking at the skin there. You tip your head back for a breathy moan, and he finally rids you of your cardigan, exposing more of your skin for him to taste.
Levi peppers your chest with loud sucking kisses, like a madman desperate for air and youâre that air. Your fingers rake through his hair, pushing his face deeper into your skin, in the dip between your breasts. Youâre wet all over, literally, with his saliva all over your skin. His fingers slip inside your blouse, hands trailing up, pushing your blouse up until it's above your tits. He yanks down the cups of your bra to lick your nipples and then greedily draws one into his mouth.
You gasp at the sensation of his tongue flicking your nipple and then his teeth slightly biting and pulling it.
His right hand trails down the side of your body, settling on your waist, fingers digging into your flesh, while the other squeezes your other tit thatâs not being worshipped by his mouth.
You sigh out his name again and again, wanting so much more. You want so much more of him it hurts.
âFuck, youâre so sweet,â he laughs against your skin, like he couldnât fucking believe it. His mouth moves onto your other tit, tongue twirling around the nipple, biting lightly, and then sucking hard. You arch your chest to his face, wanting more of his mouth, of his tongue, all over your body. He grabs you by your hips, pulling you towards him, letting you feel his erection.
âLevi.â God, youâre going to cry. âLevi, fuck.â
âI keep thinking about you like this.â His voice is muffled, his lips closed in around your breast. âSo fucking soft here, canât think straight.â
His lips catch yours again, sucking at the bottom and then biting. You cup his face, kissing him back. Your tongue slips into his mouth, and he immediately sucks on it like a lollipop. He tastes like beer, but youâre damn sure itâs him youâre drunk in and not the booze. Heâs all thatâs in your brain, on your skinâ you want all of him inside you, your mouth, your ass, your cunt. Fuck, just thinking about him stretching your walls makes you come. You grind your hips against his and he groans around your tongue and fuck youâre aching down there, aching for his cock. He palms your stomach, fingers sliding smoothly under the waistbands of your pants and underwear until his middle and ring finger reach your clit. You moan into his mouth, his tongue pushes between your lips, and you let him in. You let his tongue taste every corner of your mouth while his fingers rub your hole. He pushes at your right foot with his own, asking you to spread your legs apart.
You do.
Oh, what the fuck is wrong with you?
âActually, lift your leg, princess.â
What the fuckâ no oneâs ever called you that before.
He hooks his hand under your right leg, and you replace his hand with yours. Then heâs fingering you again, thumb pressing and rubbing circles on your clit while his middle and index fingers scissor your insides, pushing deeper, and then curling in a âcome hitherâ way.
âFuck,â you sigh out, cross-eyed and mouth open wide. âLevi, so fucking good.â
Youâve never felt this good before, none of your exes made you feel this damn good.
âCan you take one more?â
âWhat?â Your throat feels dry from too much sighing, too much mouth-gaping.
He answers with another finger digging into your hole, and then he captures your lips in another tongue sucking kiss right before you could cry out.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. He feels so good, he is so good.
Youâre so wet your folds squelch every time his palm hits them. The sounds make you moan, driving you crazy and aching for more. You grind your hips against his hand, meeting each thrust of his fingers. He pushes deeper, digits curling inside your cunt, rearranging your insides like a fucking puzzle. He licks your neck, you kiss the side of his face. He smells nice, so fucking manly, something musky, woody, and citrussy. Something yummy. God, you want to eat him.
âLevi,â you sigh, reaching for his cock. He stops you, grabbing your hand and putting it back over his shoulder. âLeviââ
âNo.â He sucks at your neck so hard youâre sure itâll leave a hickey there.
âBut I want you in me so bad,â you beg.Â
âNot now,â he forces out, mouth on your tit once more, sucking like a baby. âWant to see your face when we do what. Want to watch your cunt sucking my cock.â
You nearly come at the thought of it.
âButââ
âItâs fine.â He kisses your lips. âJust want you to come around my fingers, princess.â
You press your forehead on his shoulder. âLeviiiiiâŠâ
He mouths your tit and sucks. âYou have one more minute.â
You press your thighs together, he rubs his palm against your clit and his fingers keep curling inside your cunt in every thrust.
âLevi, youâre so good,â you whine.
âHm⊠I thought you hate me?â
God, youâll die admitting this butâ âI thought so too.â
You donât know, you donât know, you donât fucking know anymore. It could be the beer talking. Or your cunt. Oh, fuck.
He smirks against the side of your mouth. âSo fucking irresistable.â
âMhm⊠want you so bad,â you sigh mindlessly.
He nuzzles in your nose. âCome on.â His breath is hot against your skin. âYouâve got less than a minute.â
âSuck my tits, Levi.â
He kisses your neck before obeying. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his mouth closes in around your mound, sucking continuously and hard.
âFuck,â you groan, tipping your head back. You lift your leg higher, spreading your thighs further. Levi hooks his foot around your left heel, and then he rubs his crotch against your thigh.
âShit, gonna come like this.â
âFuck me, Levi,â you beg.
He kisses your mouth. âAlready am.â
âYour cock, please. Do you like it when I beg?â
âFuckââ
You let go of your leg, he hastily pulls your pants and underwear down. Then he hooks his arm under your leg again, lifting it up once more. You hook your ankle over his shoulder, slightly wincing at your ligaments pulling taut. You fumble for the waistbands of his pants, pushing them down together with his boxers. Levi hisses through gritted teeth when his cock springs free, then he grabs it, stroking it a few times, slapping it against your cunt while he lines the tip at your entrance.
He rubs his cockhead along your folds, mixing his pre-cum with your wetness. âWill you let me cum in you?â
You nod eagerly, then you remember he couldnât see. âYes! Shit, yes.â
He closes the gap between your faces, capturing you in another liplock, and then he thrusts in.
You couldnât even help the loud moan that escapes your throat. Levi doesnât seem to care either as he begins to pound relentlessly into you.
âShit! Feels so fucking good down here,â he says into your mouth.
You grasp at his ass, nails digging into the soft flesh of his cheeks. Levi pulls away to bury his nose in your neck, gritting his teeth as he rams into you, bottoming out in every thrust. You kiss his shoulder, his neck, then his ear, biting at the softest part of it.Â
âSo fucking good.â His lips graze your neck when he talks.
âYou too, you too, Levi.â So good, stretching you oh so deliciously, cockhead hitting your sweet spot every time.
Outside, a timer goes off.
âFuck, fuck,â he grumbles against your neck, pounding into you harder, more desperately. He grabs your ass, easily lifts you up, and fucks into you like thereâs no tomorrow. The shelf rocks behind your back, sending a few of the items dropping on the floor, but neither of you care. Something wet even splashes your leg, but fuck it, fuck everything. You wrap your arms around his neck, he lifts his face and captures your lips in another searing kiss. His tongue slips in, you suck.
There are footsteps outside. Hange must be coming to release you two from heaven.
You donât want to go down from this anymore.
Levi grits his teeth, brows knitted together like heâs on a high-priority mission. He slams his hips into yours, cock filling you to the brim, cockhead kissing the best part of your cunt. He bites your lip, then kisses your jaw, then your neck, and then sucks hard andâ
You gasp, nails digging crescents at the back of his shoulders while your walls clamp down around his cock. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you tip your head back and moan as loud as you can.
The footsteps stop.
Levi bites at your shoulder, and with one particular thrust, he whines your name and comes undone.
You smile mindlessly at the feeling of his cum spilling inside your cunt.
Thereâs a soft click, but the door doesnât open.
âOh, Levi,â you sigh.
The footsteps retreat.
His thrusts slow down until heâs finished spilling inside you. He lets your feet to the ground first before pulling his cock out, still twitching against his stomach.
âYou good?â He asks softly.
You nod, then you kiss him again.
He holds you by your waist, so gently this time you think heâs not the same person who just fucked you senseless.Â
âPlease tell me that wonât be the last,â you say when you pull away.
He nuzzles his nose in your neck. âFucking no.â
You laugh, against the side of his head, nose buried in his hair. What does this make the two of you then?
âLetâs get you cleaned up.â
He pulls away, you hear some rustling, and then light. From his damn cellphone.
âWhat theâ you had that with you all this time?!â
He smirks. âI wanted to find out whoâd cave in first.â
Mortified, your jaw drops.
He fixes your bra, then your blouse. âGuess what?â He pulls your trousers and panties up. There are paint stains at the hem of your pants. âYou just earned a ticket to being stuck with the irritating Levi Ackerman for a long time.â
You think you donât mind that at all.
He picks up your cardigan. Itâs stained with black paint.
âAw, shit. Thatâs my favorite.â
He kisses your lips. âIâll buy you a new one.â
Levi takes your hand, but instead of joining the other, he pulls you upstairs to his room.
âOi! Gonna fuck like bunnies now?!â Hange calls out. âI deserve a thank you!â
You keep your eyes on your and Leviâs hands, realizing youâve always wanted to hold his hand like this all along.
summary: megumi fushiguro is one of the best players on the major league baseball team, and when you finally spot him on the big screen after practically dozing off at every game you went to with your girl friend? you were absolutely IN LOVE, but IN DENIAL that he could ever like you back⊠but he does, and bad.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, NASTY NASTY MEGUMI, oral sex, SMUT, pussy eating in locker rooms HEH, mentions of drinking but like tiny just once, reader is oblivious to the way megumi wants her, DOMINANT AF MEGUMI PHEWW, cursing, flufffff!!, barely any angst, DIRTY TALK, pet names, aged up characters.
word count: 12.1k (IK IM SORRY ITS A CUTE ONE THO)
authors note: you GUYSSSS i love megumi fushiguro i want him so bad and i LOOVEEE this fic!! i worked like a little worker bee for days and i really hope it makes you guys happy :] MWAH!!
want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!
megumi fushiguro was the hottest baseball player you had ever seen in your life.
and you didnât even like baseball to begin with, dozing off at every game your girl friend dragged you to because her boyfriend was on the major league teamâ but the one time you decided to open your eyes and pay attention to the big giant screen in front of you?
there he was in all of his emo glory.
number eighteen.
focused, half lidded eyes resembling borderline boredom as he waited for the pitcher to throw, his forehead glistening with sweat, flushed red cheeks, and his jet black hair slightly peeking over his forehead from underneath his baseball cap.
âmy godââ your hand flew and you gripped your girl friends arm tightly, your jaw to the fucking floor as your eyes were gorilla glued to the screen, her quirking a curious eyebrow at you as she matched your frantic nature.
âwhat? what is it? who did you see? whats happââ
you pointed your finger up at the screen, him swinging and hitting a fucking grand slam as he proceeded to get four runs with one hit, the one thing you knew about baseball besides a home run.
âthatâs aâ thatâs a grand slam!â you pointed frantically, probably looking absolutely insane as you stood and screamed your fucking head off.
your girl friend laughed loudly, âyou like fushiguro? megumi fushiguro?â
you jumped up and down, your girlfriend astonished and laughing as this was the first time sheâd ever seen you energetic at a baseball game.
âheâs friends with yuji!â she yelled over the hollering of the crowd. âwe can go to their locker room after and you can say hi! i heard heâs kind of mean thoughââ
âno!â you spun around, eyes wide and terrified. âi already know heâll eat me alive then! iâm a loser, i canât talk to him i donât have game iââ
she rolled her eyes. âyouâll be fineââ
âno i canât!â you shook your head frantically. âplease he looks like the type to love bomb me and then leave me i donât think i can handle thatââ
she snorted. âare you sure?!â
you hesitated for a moment, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed back over to the screen, seeing megumi breathing a little heavy from running the field, his hands on his hips as he scanned the arena.
you sighed through your nose. âyeah iâm sure!â
âsuit yourself!â
a year. a year you spent continuing to tag along with your girl friend to their games, staring lovesick and sad at the big screen over megumi, and standing outside far far away from the locker room once they scored another big win and not going in like you used to, waiting for your girl friend to finish up speaking to her boyfriend as you tried your best to avoid the chance of running into megumi.
she finally emerged from the locker rooms one day, a knowing smirk on her face.
âi told yuji.â
you blinked. âtold him what?â
âthat you like fushiguro.â
âno!â you gasped, a hand flying and smacking over your mouth. âplease no im about to experience the biggest heartbreak of my lifeââ
âoh relax!â she grabbed your arm and practically dragged you towards the locker room doors. âheâs not even here megumi already left, but yuji wants to talk to you.â
âwhy?!â you exclaimed. âto let me down easy? to tell me heâs sorry on his behalfââ
your girl friend just about threw you in and went in after you as you stumbled, eyes blown wide as the air became humid and heavy, several of the players lounging about and refreshing themselves as the sound of lockers slamming shut echoed through the spaceâ deep, broad voices laughing filling the room as yuji spotted you, his eyes friendly and polite. ây/n!â
you relaxed and smiled, âhi! you guys played really well today!â
âmegumi also played really well today.â
âoh my godââ you groaned, throwing your head back as you spun around, heading straight for the exit.
âwait wait!â he laughed loudly, jogging up to you. âsorry sorry.â
âwhat do you want with me..â you mumbled.
he gave you a half smile. âi wanted to tell you that megumiâs weird.â
you snorted, âelaborate please.â
yuji threw an arm around your girl friend before continuing.
âyou know we support your feelings and what you wantâŠâ he began.
your eyes narrowed. âwhy are you guys talking to me like youâre my parentsââ
âbutââ yuji cut you off. âiâm just gonna be straight with you. iâve never ever seen megumi interact with anyone, let alone another woman, besides the team.â
âi donât think iâve ever seen him have a proper conversation with anyone on the team besides you actuallyâŠâ your girl friend muttered to yuji.
yuji winced. âyeahâŠâ he turned back to you. âback when megumi and i first got signed, he was really popular and a lot of girls would come up to him after games for his number or just to talk to him.â
âwell obviously heâs a greek god,â you grumbled. âthis is hurting me man get to the point.â
he sighed. âhe basically scared all of them off. didnât give a single one a chance and was kinda mean... he would either ignore them or straight up just tell them he wasnât interested without them even being able to get a word in.â
you stared blankly.
âi tried to tell him that he needs to be nicer but heâs just not interested.â
you kept staring.
âthatâs why iâm telling you this because we donât want you to get hurt and i feel like if you try and talk to him heâs gonna be a dick and it mightâŠâ yuji looked at you sadly. âit might be a lost cause.â
you blinked.
ây/n?â
âthatâs fine!â you squeaked, hands tight at your sides. âa part of me already knew. i read about it in an article, and iâve seen his interviews.â
your girl friend looked at you with concern filled eyes. âare you okay?â
âyeah!â you waved them off. âwhy wouldnât i be?â
âbecause your eyes are red.â
âppffttt!â you blew out. âiâm fine! seriously. i never intended to talk to him anyways, iâm too much of a scaredy cat.â
you extended your arms out and engulfed the both of them, squeezing tight. âthank you guys for telling me though, i appreciate it.â
ây/nâŠâ yuji trailed off.
âiâm gonna take off though, iâll see you guys later, okay?â you waved and opened the door. âlove you!â
and you scrammed, your heart in a million pieces.
itâs not like you didnât already know. you knew, so why were you sad? why did you feel like you just got ran over by a double decker bus? why did you pathetically feel so sad?
this was the reality. you never stood a chance.
so why were you crying?
you continued walking down the hall and towards the main exit, utterly embarrassed at your sobbing and trying your best to hide it as you navigated through several groups of people, your vision entirely blurry as you were basically drowning in your tears.
you had barely escaped the crowd when you spotted a little secluded area in the lobby, trudging over pathetically and plopping down on the coushy seat as you wiped your cheeks, staring at the wall in front of youâ a huge glass casing proudly decorated with the teams trophies and awards, gigantic portraits of the players on the team adorning the walls with megumiâs serious beautiful framed face right in front of you just making you feel worse.
you already knew, but regardless of megumiâs stand off ish personality, you liked it. you had curiously browsed his interviews and quotes in articles, and you always laughed at his responses, him almost every time offending the staff without even trying or knowing, and you found it so so funny, it only making you admire him and want to get to know him even more, even if it was just a friendship.
megumi fushiguro was one of the best players on the team in history, and as you closed your eyes, silent pathetic tears still slipping down your cheeks?
he never felt so out of reach.
âhere.â
your eyes opened, but you literally could not see jack shit as your tears were still blurring your line of sight, you completely and utterly mortified that a stranger caught you sobbing as you wiped your face quickly in response.
âput on my sunglasses if you donât want people to see you crying.â
the voice was gruff and lazy, but you could not care less as you took the sunglasses and settled them over your eyes, the lenses so freaking dark that you couldnât see a single thingâ your sight worse than before.
but it relieved you, as you figured no one could see your bloodshot eyes and therefore thankfully not notice you losing your mind over something so stupid.
âthank you,â you mumbled. âsorry.â
âfor what.â
you felt the plush of the bench shift next to you, figuring that the stranger man sat beside you as you refused to look in their direction out of embarrassment.
not that you could even see in the first place.
âfor looking like a loser.â
the stranger man snorted. âsâfine.â
you wiped your nose with your sleeve, sniffling.
âhow do you see in these?â you muttered softly. âtheyâre making me claustrophobic i canât see a thing.â
âthatâs the point,â he hums.
âhow come?â
âi get migraines everyday. they help.â
âoh i see.â you responded softly. âhave you ever run into a wall because of them?â
you hear him huff out through his nose. âi did once, when i first got them.â
you giggled gently. âdid you bleed?â
âno,â he spoke calmly. âi got a bump on my forehead.â
you snickered, âwhat? loserrr.â
you stood up and carefully tried to walk around a little, testing out how to guide yourself through the dark lenses and trying to be careful and not bump into a wall (which was literally impossible), your hands out, feeling around.
âjesus christ iâm just kidding now i feel bad. i think im gonna bump myself into a wall too so we can call it even.â
you couldnât see, but the stranger manâs lips twitched at your comment.
âdonât do that.â he murmured. âsit back down.â
you listened and started making your way over, feeling him reach out and wrap his fingers around your wrist carefully and guide you to the bench, you plopping down on it once you felt it.
âthank you!â you responded sweetly. ââŠiâm actually glad i canât see a thing right now.â you perked up, pushing the sunglasses back up over the bridge of your nose.
âwhy is that.â
âso i donât have to look at megumi fushiguroâs big portrait in front of my face.â
the stranger man stopped.
ââŠwhy?â
âbecause he indirectly broke my heart.â
you heard a little audible laugh, and you smiled to yourself.
at least someone is having fun right now.
âhow did he indirectly break your heart?â
âmy girl friendâs boyfriend is yuji itadori. she spilled the beans against my will about how i have a crush on him, and yuji told me that heâs mean and heâll basically bite my head off and tell me to scram.â
âdid he?â
âuh huh,â you nodded. âthey were trying to let me down easy, but itâs not like i was gonna try and talk to him anyways. iâve gone a year without saying anything i can go on and on and on.â
the stranger man hummed.
âheâs so cool thoughâŠâ you murmured, dazed. âheâs gonna be a hard one to forget about.â
âwhy do you like him?â
âi feel like im being interrogated,â you giggled.
you felt the stranger man lean back against the wall. âsorry, just curious.â
you copied him and crossed your arms, âmmm⊠because heâs really good at what he does. i admire that most of all.â
you tilted your head. âeveryone berates him for being mean but i like that heâs supposedly mean for some reasonâŠ. heâs just serious about his profession and he doesnât want to waste time. heâs also the hottest man iâve ever seen so that definitely helps.â
the stranger man laughed a little.
âi donât know,â you sighed sadly. âmaybe iâm just demented. i am demented.â
âif yuji itadori told you the exact opposite about him, would that have encouraged you to go up to him?â
you sat in thought for a moment, but ultimately shook your head. âno. itâs too embarrassing for me and iâm also a big fat wuss soâŠâ
you slid your fingers underneath the lenses and rubbed your stinging sore eyes. âmaybe in the next life if iâm lucky, ill be reincarnated as a cool baseball man too and i wonât have to deal with this shit.â
âcool baseball man.â he repeated, tone seemingly amused.
âyup.â
the stranger man sighed. âis this why i found you crying?â
âmaayybeee?â you dragged out shyly, your cheeks flushing.
it was silent for a moment, your vision completely black but his on your rosy cheeks, oddly staring that if you could see right now, youâd probably call him a creep.
âiâm sorry i made you cry.â
you jumped back.
âno not you!â you huffed. âhave you not been paying attention? catch up manââ
you felt a shadow reach up and tug the sunglasses slightly away from your face, your eyes constricting against the bright lights of the hall as they tried to adjust.
and when they did?
megumi fushiguro was sitting right next to you, a tiny smile on his face dressed in all black with his teams baseball cap on.
your eyes widened dramatically and you slapped both hands over your mouth, beyond horrified as everything you had thought you were telling a stranger about him, you were telling him directly, your brain short circuiting and your body heating up like a fucking hot flash.
âoh my god iâm so sorry!â your voice was muffled, you shaking your head in absolute denial.
you immediately sprung up and grabbed your purse, slowly backing up further and further away from him.
his smile widened.
oh my god.
megumi fushiguro was smiling, a sight youâve never ever seen during his games, practices, interviews, articles, or magazines as your cheeks increased in shadeâ wanting to mentally take a picture and remember forever as you knew youâd probably never see him smile like that again.
but he was smiling.
âpretend i donât exist!â you stammered, âpretend this never happened iâm sorry this is so embarrassing keep winning your games okay and iâll keep being an idiot far far away from youââ
âwhere are you going?â he chuckled lowly.
ââyouâll never see me again iâm going home and iâm going on lockdownââ
he laughed through his nose, his lips in an amused smile.
âyou donât have to do that.â
âyes i doââ
âyou donât have to forget me either.â
âthat i definitely doââ
you were halfway out of the main entrance doors.
âhold on y/nââ
megumi stood, his long legs walking over to you and you froze.
y/n?
you slowly turned around, your face pale and afraid.
âhow do you know my name?â you asked softly.
âyour best friend is dating yuji, is she not.â
you nodded, eyes blank.
âiâve been seeing you inside the locker room after our games for like⊠two years.â megumi mumbled.
oh.
oh thatâs right.
you didnât actually notice megumi until last year, when you decided to finally open your eyes for once during a game and thatâs how you spotted him for the first time on the big screen in front of you, in all of his gorgeous handsome entity.
âoh.â
he raised a hand and pressed his index finger to your forehead, nudging you softly.
âdummy.â
âs-sorry..â you gave him a wobbly bashful smile, your cheeks pinky as you rubbed your red eyes.
his eyes slightly softened and he shook his head. âsâfine.â
megumi continued to stare at you, a stone cold face that always seemed to scare off the teams entire fan base, but only made you feel numb and giddy all over every single time.
you smiled wider then, and megumiâs lips twitched.
cute.
âiâmâ iâm gonna go now.â
âdo you have a ride home?â
you stopped. âno i was just gonna call an uberââ
he shook his head and walked past you, his shoulder brushing gently with yours with his hands stuffed in his pockets as you turned and stared at him.
he paused and looked over his shoulder.
âyou coming?â
your eyes widened. âcoming? wâwhere?â
he rolled his eyes. âiâm taking you home.â
âno!â you shot your hands out. âitâs okay! really! thank you thank you i appreciate it butââ
he stared lazily.
âcome.â
you pressed your lips into a thin line and tipped your head down, taking tiny painful steps as you followed after him to the parking lot.
megumi led you from the public parking area to a secluded section around the back of the arena, one you assumed was for players and crew members only as you nervously gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling absolutely sick.
you both continued to walk down until you arrived to a private parking garage, megumi slipping out his keys from the pocket of his hoodie as you approached a shiny black luxurious car sitting neatly in a spot.
his car was really fucking nice, and you figured so being as he was one of the most popular players and probably had more than enough money in the bankâ your fingers trembling as you gripped the passenger side door, settling yourself inside his plush cool leather seats and all black interior.
megumi pressed the âstartâ button and his engine roared to life, the motor echoing through the structure as you clumsily tried to put on your seatbelt, your cheeks growing pinker with each passing second that you just couldnât get the stupid damn thing toâ clickâ
he reached over across the console and took the seatbelt from you, pulling it over your body and clicking it secure without a word.
âthank you.â you said softly, eyes trained to your lap.
megumi gave you a small nod and backed out of his parking space, driving around a couple of rows before making his way out with the night air softly breezing through your hair as he drove, his dash illuminated with blue lines that ran smoothly across.
âcan you put your address inââ
âoh yeah!â you jumped. âsorryââ
you reached over and tapped in your address on his big touch screen, watching the way the gps registered the location and gave him the estimated time of arrival.
forty fucking minutes.
âmegumi..â
his eyes looked over at you for a second before turning back to the road.
âhm?â
âi live kinda far from here and i donât want you to drive the opposite way from where you live.â
you leaned a little, eyebrows pinched. âi can take an uber seriously, this is too much trouble iââ
âyouâre already in my car.â he deadpanned.
âiâll jump out.â
he pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile.
âi have child lock on.â
âchild lock?!â you gawked. âis this what you think of me?â
âyouâre a little helpless⊠and youâre a crybaby.â he mumbled. âchild lock stays on.â
you giggled after, your eyes shining and filled with mushy feelings for him as you nodded. âyouâre probably right.â
he looked over at you then, and he smiled, softly.
âwhat do you do?â
you fidgeted. âhâhuh?â
âdo you umâŠâ he ran his thumb over the top of his gear shift. âdo you work? do you go to school?â
heâs asking you?
âi go to school!â you responded shyly but kind. âi go to a college thatâs about fifteen minutes from your stadium. i usually go and meet up with my best friend after class if thereâs a game.â
he hummed. âare you a big baseball person?â
you grimaced.
do you lie? do you tell the truth? do you roll down his window and attempt to jump out of the car that way?
you played with a strand of your hair. âiâ i umââ
he raised an eyebrow.
âiâ donât?â
he cocked his head. âyou donât?â
you shook your head no, completely ashamed of who you are as a person as you covered your eyes.
âi knoww i suuucckkk,â you whined. âthe only things i know about baseball are home runs and grand slamsâ which you did!â
you pointed at him excitedly. âlast year! i remember you hit a grand slam! i got so excited that for once i knew what the fuck was going on and why everyone was going crazyâŠâ
you fiddled with your fingers nervously, your eyes trained to the road. âi felt so included.â
he chuckled, and unexpectedly, reached over and gently ruffled your hair.
you then stared at him as he did so, doe eyes wide and cheeks pink.
megumi was truly just beautifulâ his smooth face that didnât have a single blemish on his skin shining under the moonlight, his black spiky hair peeking from under his cap that you had no doubt in your mind was soft and velvety.
you hated that youâd probably do anything for that man.
âiâm sorry i made you cry,â he repeated, you recognizing his words from before.
your eyebrows furrowed.
he was still thinking about that?
you shook your head furiously, âyou didnât! i swear itâs okay. iâm just crazy.â
he huffed out a laugh.
megumi thought you were odd, but in a good way. he thought everything you did was a little funny, as you were jumpy and clumsy and a crybaby and helpless, but he also took note of how polite you were. he noticed how considerate you were of him even though you were really upset, and you were kind of sweet⊠really sweet actually, your personality something that was totally different from the usual girls that came up to him.
well, the usual girls that used to come up to him back when he first started.
megumi pulled into your driveway and shifted the gear into park, the doors automatically unlocking.
you opened the door and stepped out before leaning down and peeking your head in.
âthank you for the ride!â you said sweetly, a cute smile on your face. âiâm sorry you had to listen to my confession against your will.â
he shook his head. âitâs alright.â
you went in to close the door.
ây/n.â
you leaned back down, âyeah?â
âare you gonna stop coming to our games?â
you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, your eyes darting around the interior of his car nervously.
âiâ i donât think so.â
âgood.â
megumi watched you close his door and walk back a bit, him shifting his gear into reverse as the corners of his lips turned a tiny bit upwards.
âiâll see you then.â
as you watched him pull out and drive away, his engine roaring down the street, you could not stop or simmer down the way your heart raced against your chest, so much so that you were afraid it was going to burst through your chest and literally kill you.
the next time you went to a game, you hadnât told your close girl friend yet as she led you through the crowd and down to the v.i.p. lower level seats like always, a kind courtesy of yujiâs that he did whenever he could.
as you watched, you embarrassingly spotted megumi almost the minute you arrived, stars and hearts in your eyes as you watched him do his thing and work magic through the field with his absolutely insane batting, strong and purposeful as he barked orders or observed the opposing team for leads.
once his and the opposing team switched sides, megumi looked up as he jogged, his eyes seemingly scanning the v.i.p. front sections until he spotted you.
he raised a hand and gave you a little wave, and your eyes widened as you timidly, hesitantly, gave him one in returnâ your cheeks turning pink.
âwho are you waving at?â
your girl friend pressed a cheek against yours and looked.
âwho is- fushiguro?!â
you looked at her sheepishly.
as you recounted the story to her, her eyes bulging out of her sockets and screaming her head off every two seconds, her head snapped to the field.
âi have to tell yujiââ
âno!â you gripped her shoulders. âitâs literally nothing! he drove me home and he probably just feels bad for me.â
âmegumi isnât the type to make a crying girl feel better or drive her home.â
âitâs because he knows that we know yuji.â
âmm i donât think so..â she scowled, crossing her arms in eventual defeat as she stared straight ahead.
thatâs how it went for about a month.
you would come to their games, megumi would wave at you from the field or you would catch his attention and wave at him, and you would briefly speak to him casually just after his games, your conversations with him usually lasting no more than three minutes as he was often pulled by his coach or a crew member.
but even though the conversations were short, they were really nice, and the both of you never seemed to notice the people around you wanting his attention until he physically had to get pulled away.
but you still refused to go inside the locker room, knowing that was surely the place where you had to talk to him for longer than three minutes. you were too scared, embarrassingly so as you bid your girl friend and yuji goodbye from just outside the door before leaving every time, completely unaware of the way megumi would stare expressionless at you from inside.
when your girl friend invited you to the teamâs yearly banquet, you flat out said no, decision firm and unmoving as she begged you over and over and over again.
âplease please you have to go! you canât avoid megumi forever!â
âwhat is the purpose of me going though?â you sighed, shaking your head with a smile at the sight of her dramatically on her knees over you. âfor you it makes sense because youâre with yuji but whatâs the excuse for me? iâm not anybodyâs plus one.â
âyes you are,â she got back up on her feet and wiggled her eyebrows, âyouâre megumiâs plus one.â
âbye i wish,â you mumbled, plopping down on your bed.
âokay youâre my plus one, or yujiâs! so he has two plus ones!â
she walked over and sat down next to you, resting her head against your shoulder as she sighed. âplease come. you donât have to talk to megumi okay? fine. but just come with me, iâll have a better time if you do.â
you gave her a silly smile and thought for a moment, her sad tone swaying you as you finally gave in.
âonly if you swear you wonât force me to talk to him.â
she nodded eagerly.
âi swear!â
so you stood there, nervous and biting your thumb as you frantically looked around, dressed in a pretty black off the shoulder mermaid style gown with a high slit exposing your legâ fiddling with your styled hair as you waited and waited and waited for your girl friend to come back from the dessert table with yuji.
you hadnât seen megumi yet as you were trying to keep on a look out, because the moment you did see him all dressed up? you were sure you were going to start pathetically bowing for him on your knees in front of all these people and end your social life forever.
finally, she came back and handed you a little pastry, you thanking her kindly and taking a small bite.
âwait no!â she gasped, turning her pastry around. âfuck, i got the wrong one. i meant to get the vanilla one this is coconut.â
âi can get it for you this time.â you smiled kindly, her looking at you gratefully as you patted her shoulder, making your way over to the dessert table.
your eyes lit up like stars at the sight of it, grand and luxurious as any kind of pastry you could ever possibly think of was presentâ neat and gourmet-like, each adorned with elegant toppings as multiple huge chocolate fountain stations ran from the sides.
âhi.â
you jumped and looked to your right, megumi standing there beside you with a bored expression, clad in a polished black button up and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
you gulped.
âhâhi.â
âi didnât think youâd come.â
he lazily picked up a tiny slice of chocolate mousse cake and looked at it.
âi was dragged by my best friend,â you puffed out a laugh. âshe said i was her and yujiâs plus one or something like that.â
he nodded, biting his cake slice and swallowing.
âyou stopped coming inside the locker rooms.â
you faltered.
he noticed that?
âoh yeah! i justââ you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. âiâve been really busy with school so i study right afterâŠâ
for some reason megumi eyed you carefully, and your cheeks grew pinker the more he blatantly stared at you as you fidgeted.
âare youââ
âfushiguro!â
you both turned your heads to the source, and you spotted an unfamiliar guy, one who you assumed was on the team with them, smiling enthusiastically and throwing a heavy arm around megumiâs shoulder.
âwhoâs this? iâve never seen you talk to anyone besides us!â
megumi only spared him a nonchalant glance before he looked back over at the dessert table.
the unknown man extended a hand out to you, and megumiâs eyes snapped to it.
âhi! iâm takuma!â
you cheerfully took his hand. ây/n!â
âare you megumiâs girlfriend?â
you gawked, guilt and embarrassment already filling your body at the thought of megumi finding that comment uncomfortable and being uncomfortable because of you.
at his own banquet.
ânâno!â you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. âi came with my best friend and yuji.â
takuma unhooked his arm and let it rest beside him. âoh nice! you know yuji as well?â
you nodded, âmhm!â
the rest of the crowd began to take their seats for the awards ceremony segment, and the three of you walked over to your designated table by yuji and your best friend, whoâs eyes widened at the sight of you next to megumi.
you all sat, and takuma pointed to the empty seat next to you.
âis anyone sitting here?â
âoh no!â you smiled politely. âitâs empty you canââ
âtake mine ino.â
megumi pulled out the chair next to you and plopped down on it, scooting up. âitâs closer to the front.â
huh?
âoâoh!â takuma scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. âokay! thanks fushiguro.â
he only nodded in response and stuck his face in his champagne glass, sipping.
and he was right. you watched as takuma navigated through the circular tables before sitting in a seat that was right smack dab in the front.
âthatâs really nice of you megumi!â you chirped. âhe has such a good view now!â
âmhm.â
your best friend smacked a hand to her forehead with a shake of her head, and you looked at her quizzically.
the awards ceremony was the most fun youâve ever had, as you were over the moon for all of the players that were awarded prestigious titles and recognitions, and even more excited for yuji and megumi, the both of them combined taking award after award that by the time the event was done, your table was filled to the brim with frames, medals, and trophies.
your doe eyes glowed over megumiâs earnings, pride and admiration bubbling in your chest as you took in the result of his hard work, feeling like he was the most talented person you ever had the privilege of knowing.
he stared at your enamored look.
âyouâre so cool, gumi..â you gushed, not even noticing the little nickname you gave him.
but he did.
âcool baseball man?â he responded softly, referencing your words from when you first met.
your eyes snapped to his and you gave him the shiniest smile, nodding quickly. âyeah! cool baseball man.â
megumi looked down at his awards, and after a couple of seconds, picked up a shiny gold medal hung on a baby blue striped lanyard, holding it out for you.
âhere.â
your eyes traveled down.
âwhat?â
âfor you.â he pushed the medal forward.
shock crossed your face, and you frantically shook your head, pushing the medal back to him. âno! no megumi thatâs yours you earned itââ
megumi rolled his eyes and held on to the edges of the lanyard, effortlessly setting it over your head and around your neck, the medal clinking and twinkling against your chest.
âi have four others. itâs fine.â
âno butââ
he carded his thumbs underneath your hair and gently slid your hair out from beneath the lanyard, setting it delicately over your bare shoulders.
yuji and your best friends jaws were on the floor, but you didnât notice, too busy ogling over the fact that megumi fushiguro was the kindest person you had ever met, utterly amazed that he selflessly gave you something so precious. you.
your gaze trailed down to the medal, and you softly touched it with the pads of your fingers.
âtâthank you gumiâŠâ
his lips twitched.
you realized then that the music had started and the crowd had already dispersed to celebrate, some dancing in the center while others mingled on the sidelines or hogged the dessert table.
and you spotted your best friend with yuji, the both of them smiling adoringly at each other, laughing and dancingâ something bashfully wished for yourself as you grinned softly at them.
megumi followed your gaze, and he huffed an amused small laugh through his nose.
âthey met at a party didnât they?â
you looked to him and nodded, âuh huh! i was with her. she was so scared to talk to him and i literally had to throw her in.â
he scratched his cheek. âi remember. i was there.â
your jaw dropped. âyou were?!â
he nodded. âand i remember you too.â
you sat there in silence.
how long had megumi been around in your life without you knowing? how didnât you ever freaking notice?
before you could press any further, megumi squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his forehead in pain, groaning softly.
you jumped, âare you okay? whatâs wrong?â
he shook his head. âmigraine. the lights are fucking with me a little.â
âoh!â you frantically looked around the table and around him. âwhere are your sunglasses? the dark ones the ones you ran into a wall with!â
megumi snorted and shook his head again, eyes peeking at you a bit. âitâs fine. i left them at home.â
your eyebrows rose, âyou left them?â
he nodded and dropped his hand, sitting up straight and trying to open his eyes fully to seem normal, but his lids only dropped again and his forehead fell to rest against the table.
âiâm sorry,â he mumbled. âjust give me a minute.â
âdonât be sorry gumiâŠâ
you figured the rest of the night was going to be like this, and if megumi stayed, he was going to end up dealing with the dull ache in his head for hours on end and not enjoy his banquet.
but you wanted him to enjoy it. this was his night, and you didnât want him to spend it pissed off and writhing in pain.
âdo you want to leave?â
he turned his head to the side and looked at you.
âwe can umââ you fiddled with the medal around your neck. âwe can go outside? or we can go for ice creamâŠâ
you tilted your head to the side cutely, and you were oblivious to the way megumiâs cheeks went a little pink at the sight.
âill pay though!â you smiled sweetly. âitâs the least i can do for the medal you gave me.â
he gave you an endearing half smile and nodded.
your eyes lit up. âreally?! okay!â wait let me just say bye to my best friend and let her knowââ
you quickly stood and walked over to the dance floor, megumi watching after you before picking up his black blazer and holding it underneath an arm, wondering how the fuck he was gonna pick up all of his awards himself.
ây/n!â your best friend gushed. âyouâve been talking to megumi for hours what the fuck is going onââ
you laughed. ânothing! it was nothing but iâm gonna go get ice cream with him!â
âwhat?!â her and yuji said in unison.
âdid he ask you?â yuji pushed.
âno!â your eyes narrowed. âof course not iâm a big fat loser why would he? i invited him because he has a migraine soââ
your best friend hummed, a smirk on her face. âoh i see... use protection.â
âhuh?!â your jaw dropped. âno! thatâs notââ
ây/n!â
you turned and saw takuma walk over to you, a big smile on his face. âyou enjoying the banquet?â
âoh yes! itâs really great!â you smiled kindly. âthe dessert table is absolutely insane.â
âright?!â takuma stepped closer to you. âthey go all out every year, itâs what everyone looks forward to.â
âi can definitely see why!â
he chuckled and nodded but then turned to you, speaking quieter. âlisten um⊠i was wondering if you were uhâ well if you wanted to dance? with me? yâknow⊠maybe get to know each other better and thenââ
yuji shoved his lips to your best friends ear.
âheâs stealing megumiâs girl.â
âi know!â she whispered harshly. âwhat the fuck do we doââ
âi donât know!â
âwell call megumi overââ
suddenly, a tall broad figure walked in between you and takuma, your vision blocked by his back.
âsorry ino,â megumi stepped to the side a little and placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you towards the exit. âwe were just leaving.â
yuji and your best friend gave each other a low high five before their eyes darted around, putting on false ignorance.
âsorry!â it was nice meeting you takuma!â you called from over your shoulder before the both of you stepped out of the venue and into the cool night air.
megumiâs car was parked right out front, him unlocking the doors with a button just like he had done the last time, you noticing how all of his awards were set neatly in the back seat.
âoh iâm sorry gumi! did you carry these over by yourself? i was gonna help youââ
you sat yourself on his passenger side seat, the leather creaking with every movement you made.
he shook his head. âi had my publicist team do it. itâs fine.â
âoh okayâŠâ you mumbled, still feeling a little guilty that you didnât help him.
you went to reach for your seatbelt when megumiâs arm flew in front of you and grabbed the strap, pulling it over your frame and clicking it securely before his hands wrapped back around the steering wheel, just like he had done a month prior.
you couldnât make out his expression, as it was blank and stone-like and not a word was coming out of his mouth as he backed out from the parking space, but you smiled at him cutely nonetheless and thanked him.
the nearest ice cream shop was literally down the road from the venue, and the drive took less than three minutes before megumi pulled in and parallel parked on the side of the street.
you both stepped out and walked inside, the shop colorful and vibrant as what looked like twenty different assortments of ice cream were on display, your eyes launching across each flavor excitedly.
âi havenât had ice cream in a fat minuteâŠâ you murmured as you pressed your hands against the glass.
âme neither.â
âwhich flavor do you want megumi?â you asked him sweetly, your eyes still glued to the flavors that it made him chuckle.
âumâŠâ he stepped forward and scanned the different colors. âiâll take whatever you get.â
you looked at him and your eyebrows softened, âare you sure? what if you donât like it?â
the cornerâs of his lips turned upward, the sight making your heart skip a beat.
âitâs okay. i trust you.â
you ended up getting your all time favorite flavor that you never skipâ cake batter, one that tastes different depending on whoâs palette it is, and something you anxiously thought over as you gnawed on your bottom lip and stared, waiting for him to try it as you both sat on a park bench not too far from the shop.
âwhy do you look like youâre about to cry.â he snickered lowly.
your eyes snapped to his and you giggled. âi might if you donât like what i picked out.â you plopped a little spoonful in your mouth, the cold ice cream melting and spreading over your tongue as you swallowed. âcake batter is a hit or miss for different peopleâŠâ
he hummed, âhow come?â
âitâs either too sweet or just nasty.â
âi have a sweet tooth.â
your eyes lit up, âso do i! iâm a big sweets person. i love love desserts and chocolate and ice cream⊠but iâm not the biggest fan of candy.â
âyouâre not?â
âi love candy but not how i love sweets⊠and i wouldnât randomly pick it out like at the store because i wanted to. most likely i would get a cookie.â
megumi liked how much you talked.
âhave you always had a sweet tooth?â he pressed on, looking at his ice cream cup.
you nodded. âhave you?â
ânot really,â he shook his head. âi didnât pick it up until i metââ he stopped. ââŠmy dad.â
met his dad?
megumi spotted your confusion and continued.
âmy actual dad disappeared. dunno where heâs at. all iâve heard is that he had a bad gambling addiction so iâm guessing it had something to do with that.â
your eyes softened.
âgojo is kind of like my dadâŠâ he mumbled. âheâs supported my sister and i financially ever since i was maybe five or six.â
âyou have a sister?â you murmured, eyes big.
he nodded. âi do.â
he scooped a bit of cake batter ice cream up with his spoon and plopped it into his mouth, smiling softly. âgojo gave me a sweet tooth. he canât go a day without it.â
youâd never heard megumi open up so much before, and you felt incredibly lucky and special to be the one to hear about his family and share a precious moment with him over eating ice cream, something you wanted to treat delicately and remember for as long as you lived.
âdo you like it?â you asked softly, gesturing to his cup.
âi love it.â
you beamed, and he took in your cute smile for a minute as you ate some more on your end.
âiâm sorry about your actual dad⊠but iâm glad you and your sister got the support you needed when you were young.â
he nodded.
âdid he encourage you to do baseball? or was it you?â
âhe did initially.â he shook his head. âhe was annoying at first, was a cheerleader at every game and was so loud.â
you giggled.
âbut i grew to like it⊠and thatâs what i wanted to do for a career. if it wasnât for gojoâs funding i wouldnât have been able to.â
you hummed, savoring the ice cream a bit before swallowing. âthatâs really nice, gumi. iâm really happy you got the opportunity to grow your skill out like thatâŠâ you swirled the ice cream around your cup with your spoon. âwhat you have is a solid gift, and i would hate to see it not get the recognition it deserves when youâve worked so hard to make it what it is now.â
you looked at him. âso iâm really, really glad that it does get it.â
megumi stared at you, face blank and a scoop of yet to be eaten ice cream on his spoon, his cheeks growing hot.
âi donât know why you think so highly of me.â he murmured.
everyone thinks heâs rude.
your eyebrows furrowed. âi donât think megumi, i know. youâre not a mean person, youâre honest and serious about the important things in your life. and if the medal around my neck that you gave me selflessly doesnât tell you otherwise? i might have to kill you.â
he laughed, loud, his eyes sparkling. âyou might?â
you bit your lip to refrain yourself from freaking out over his smooth laughter. âi might.â
you subconsciously rubbed your hands over your chilling arms then and megumi eyed it before he put his cup down, reaching next to him for his blazer and opening it up as he gently placed it over your shoulders.
you looked at him like he was the world then, doe eyes big and round and shimmering, and megumi felt like he could do anything with that look as long as it came from youâ a permanent red tint on his cheeks that was entirely your doing.
âthank you..â you mumbled shyly, your eyes glued to your now empty cup of ice cream on the bench as you clutched the sides of his blazer, the smell of him wafting in your nose that made you absolutely weak.
megumi timidly, slowly, reached up and moved a strand of hair from your eyes then, and you looked up.
âprettyâŠâ he murmured, dazed even.
his hand fell and landed gently on your exposed thigh from the slit of your dress, but instead of moving it, he let it stay there, his hand smoothing over your plush soft skin as he was completely entranced by your heavenly face, his body pulling his lips closer to yours as megumiâs breath quickened with absolute need the higher up his hand trailed up your yummy thigh.
you couldnât say a word, he practically didnât let you as his lips pressed delicately and timidly against your plush ones, his mouth moving so slowly and his tongue parting your wet lips for the purpose of devouring more of you, all while his fingertips reached and felt the side straps of your pantiesâ the material alone making him erratic and desperate while his other hand gripped your waist tightly.
your mouths moved faster now, the sounds of wet smacking and lips separating to reconnect with more greed than before muffling your ears as he breathed heavily through his nose, his eyebrows pinched together in pent up everything as he finally had you with him after months of you avoiding him.
and then you pulled away with a wet pop.
âiâiâm sorry!â you covered your mouth. âi didnât mean to kiss you!ââ
what?
megumiâs eyebrows furrowed, both of your chests heaving as his cheeks and lips were blushed red.
he shook his head, âno i kissed youââ
âdonât cover for me gumiii,â your shoulders slumped, your brain so in denial that he could ever like you back that it tricked you into thinking you were the one kissing and all over him. âfuck iâm sorry⊠that was so disrespectful andâ and weird of me and iââ
megumiâs hands slipped away from your body and he shook his head, his eyes dead locked on yours with his eyebrows pinched together. ây/n no youâre not understandingââ
âiâm the biggest creep on the planet man i understand if you donât ever want to speak to me againââ you covered your face and leaned forward.
megumi stared at you astonishingly as he listened to you ramble apologies and dramatic insults for yourself continuously, his shoulders slowly relaxing and his lips turning into a soft knowing smile, your random speech starting to make absolutely no sense at all and his heart aching at the fact of how naive you were.
ây/n.â
you stopped. âwhat.â
he reached over and pulled your hands away from your face. âyouâre helpless, you know that?â
âhelpless and a creep.â
he laughed and shook his head. âstop it.â
he stood and offered his hand out for you.
âitâs getting late, iâm driving you home.â
megumi decided he would properly speak to you about it the next time he saw you⊠except he didnât.
you started avoiding him like the plague again, horrendously horrified about what you believed you had done, thinking that it was better if you stayed away from him and fulfilled your initial task of forgetting him, no matter how much it hurt you.
you didnât want megumi to ever be uncomfortable or experience what you believed he experienced with you. he didnât deserve that. he didnât deserve a pathetic little fan girl that never left him alone and hindered his work on the field, even though you wished so badly you could see him again, as the taste of his lips and mouth never left your fuzzy mind.
you kissed megumi fushiguro.
âoh my god y/n, youâre so stupid.â
âno iâm not! do you really believe megumi could ever like me back? no! absolutely not. i kissed him and i fucked up and thatâs it. iâm staying away from him.â
your best friend ran her fingers through her hair and almost tore a chunk out in frustration. âit sounds like he kissed you! he had his hand on your thighââ
âthat was for stability! heââ
âno it was to feel you up!â
you shook your head side to side with your arms crossed. ânope nope nope nopeââ
ây/nnnn!â
as for megumi, the next game he had he looked for you while on the field like he always did, looking forward to seeing your precious face and giving you a little wave⊠except he couldnât find you. after the game, he went around the stadium and towards the locker room, inside and back out, the parking lot, his parking lotâ
and he couldnât find you.
this went on for a full three weeks of game after game nearly every day him doing the same exact thingâ him getting increasingly more confused and a bit upset at your disappearance, going as far as to staying hours after his games still in his sweaty baseball uniform and cap with hopes that youâll turn up.
except you never did.
and at the end of the third week, he had had enough.
âoh hey megumi!â your best friend greeted him, her hand fixing around yujiâs hair in the locker room after a game.
âhi.â
he stood there and said nothing, and your best friend eyed him skeptically. ââŠyes?â
megumi shifted awkwardly. âhave you um⊠have you seen y/n?â
she sucked in a breath. âuh yeah. i saw her this morning.â
âthis morning?â his eyes narrowed. âis she okay? why hasnât she been coming to our games with you?â
âbecauseââ she stammered. âwell becauseââ
âis it our place to say?â yuji muttered.
âis it our place to know?â she whispered back harshly.
âi donât know!â
âletâs just tell him!â
âbut what if!ââ
megumi rolled his eyes and huffed. ânevermind. please tell her to come tomorrow, i need to talk to her.â
your best friend gulped and nodded, both her and yuji watching the way he walked away and snatched his cap off, throwing it inside his locker and slamming it shut with his foot before picking up his duffel bag and leaving, not even bothering to change out of his dirt covered uniform.
âiâve never seen him so stressed,â yuji commented.
âitâs because he likes her and sheâs being an idiotâŠâ your best friend sighed sadly.
so when she came to you the next day and told you megumi needed to speak to you, she amplified how upset he was to get you to feel bad and feel the urgent need to come to the game tonight, which you of course did.
and you were worried. so so worried and scared that he was finally going to tell you off for kissing him, to tell you that you sucked and that he never ever wanted to see you again in his life and that you were a disgusting human beingâ
but the roar of the crowd pulled you from your thoughts, the team winning once again as many began to pack their things and take their leave. you were completely and utterly shitting yourself, petrified and already heartbroken over the fact that megumi was officially going to cut you off as a friend when you hadnât even had the chance to try and win him over yet.
and the way he played on the field tonight was way more aggressive than normal. he was louder, meaner, and didnât take his eyes away from the ball or his opponents as he nearly got into a fight with another player, yuji and a few others needing to pull megumi apart and set him aside to cool offâ the cameras and reporters having a field day in regards to him.
and that bothered you like nothing else. why the hell were they so excited over him getting angry? to amplify the brand that he upholds as the teams meanest player? as if theyâve never had a bad day a day in their lives? what was the point?
and it was all because of you, you realized.
you made him upset.
you covered your face with your hands and groaned, feeling like you wanted to cry.
ây/nâŠâ your best friend patted your back. âitâll be fine⊠he just needs to talk to you! you donât even know what itâs about.â
âi can take a wild guess.â
she looked at you worriedly before picking up her things. âwhenever youâre ready babe⊠i think heâs in the locker rooms by now.â
she left you there to gather yourself, and you sat there for a couple of more minutes before finally getting up and making your way to the locker rooms.
most of the fans had cleared out by now, and the sun was beginning to set as you passed and squeezed through crew members and news reporters, gnawing at your bottom lip as you turned a corner and spotted the locker room, many of the players already leaving.
just as you had reached your hand up to open the door, a firm voice called out to you.
ây/n.â
you froze, retracting your hand as you turned to look.
megumi stood there at the end of the hall, his baseball uniform still on and his cap dangling from his belt loop, hands in tight fists with his chest rising and falling, an agitated look on his face that you had never seen before.
âhâhi-â
âare you trying to forget me? is that whatâs going on?â
your eyebrows furrowed.
âwhat?â
megumi took stride full steps towards you. âyou finally talk to me, you confess to me, you disappear for a month, i wait for you, you finally show up at the banquet looking like the most beautiful woman iâve ever seen in my fucking lifeââ
he stopped in front of you. âtakuma tries to steal you from me, i get pissed off, i fall for you at the park, i kiss youââ he threw his arms up. âand you disappear again!â
your eyes bulge out of their sockets.
fall?
âyou what?ââ
âso iâm asking you again,â megumi bent his knees to look at you at eye level, his hands coming up to cup your pink cheeks and his face so close to yours you can make out the exact color of his eyes.
âare you trying to forget me? like you said you would?â
you fidgeted.
âiâ i was doing it for youââ
âwhy for me? i never saidââ
the feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was making your heart do backflips and trick shots as your wide doe eyes looked at him.
âbecause when i kissed you i made you uncomfortable and i donât ever want you to be so i thought itâd be best if i left you aloneââ
âokay letâs fix that right now,â his hands tightened slightly around your cheeks and he readjusted his footing, knees still bent. âi kissed you. if anything i should be the one worried if i made you uncomfortable because i put my hand on your thigh like that and for that iâm sorry.â
âno butââ
âyes y/n. i kissed you because youâre polite and youâre sweet and youâre funny, and you donât see me as rude like everybody else does. and even though youâre naive and helpless sometimes, i like that you are. i like you.â
âbut youâre megumi fushiguroâŠâ you squeaked.
âso?â
âand iâm a loser.â
he laughed so cutely and shook his head, his pearly whites fully shining at you so big that it took you back to the first time he smiled in front of you.
âno youâre not you big dummy.â
he let go of your cheeks and placed his palms flat against the brick wall behind you, cornering you in as he let his head hang low, the top of his spiky black hair the only thing in your line of vision.
âi donât know how else i can make you seeâŠâ
he sounded so exhausted, and your heart clenched.
âwas itââ you timidly placed your hands on his shoulders. âwas it actually you that kissed me?â
he nodded, head still hung.
âand do you actually like me? likeâ like more than a friendâŠâ
âway fucking more,â he mumbled.
you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain yourself from screaming.
you couldnât believe it. the megumi fushiguro, number eighteen, the most handsome man youâve ever seen and the kindest one youâve ever met⊠liked you.
âi couldâve sworn i kissed you..â you spoke softly, trailing off.
âyou didnât.â his voice was firm. âi kissed you and i put my hand up your thighâŠâ his forehead lifted to rest on the crook of your neck as he sighed a deep breath.
âi toldâ i told takuma to scram at the banquet because i got jealous that you were talking to him more than me. i saw you crying in the hall that first time we spoke and i recognized you and i went up to you because finallyââ
he picked his head up slowly, eyes serious. âfinally, you noticed me.â
he was so close that your nose brushed gently with his.
âyouâre so dense y/nâŠâ
megumiâs eyes flickered to your lips, âiâve wanted you since the party.â
âthe party?â you murmured.
he nodded. âthe party where your friend first met yuji.â
your breath hitched as you felt his hands slide down the wall and snake over your hips, holding you tightly against him as the shock of his words made your body numb and tingly.
since the party?
it all seemed to click into place then, every single moment megumi tried to get you to look at him, to talk to him, in his own discreet way that you were completely oblivious to. and you were so fucking caught up in this fog of denial, that a person like megumi could never be interested in a person like you, that it made you push him away for the longest time without even giving yourself a chance.
you were so fucking stupid.
your arms slowly wrapped around his broad shoulders, the rough feeling of his baseball uniform underneath your fingertips and arms as you pressed your nose up against his shoulder shyly, feeling so incredibly bad for avoiding megumi for so long.
âiâm sorryâŠâ you mumbled. âiâm sorry i was so oblivious gumi.â
you felt him shake his head from the crook of your neck silently, the vibration of his heart beating rapidly against you making you sweat and melt at the same time.
âdonât be.â
âi justââ you struggled. âi just thought you didnât like me like i liked you and i wanted to respect your spaceâŠâ
âi understand,â he muttered. âbut i donât want you to respect my space anymore.â
you held him tighter.
âandââ your voice was slightly muffled by his shoulder.
âhm?â
âi liked it when you put your hand on my thighâŠâ
megumi stilled, you playing the night he kissed you over and over in your head again like youâve done since it happenedâ the thought making you nervous and timid.
he gripped you tighter.
âdid you?â
you nodded, âmhm.â
megumi without parting from you, slipped a hand under your shirt and soothed his fingers over the bare skin of your torso, your breathing stuttering, his rough hand radiating warmth.
âwhat else do you like.â
you gripped the fabric of his uniform.
âi like⊠i like the way you kissed me. and how you touch me⊠like right now.â
your voice was so so soft, practically a whisper as he seemed to shiver under your words, wanting more.
âwhat else.â
âyou,â you mumbled. âyour body⊠your hair⊠your face⊠your hands⊠the way you talk to people.â
âyou want me?â he murmured breathlessly.
âmore than anything.â
âwhat else do you like?â
you leaned your head back a little and pressed your lips to his ear. âthe way you play ball.â
he hummed, âyou like the way i play baby?â
you nodded, your heart hammering.
he lifted his face from the crook of your neck and shamelessly pressed his lips to your cheek, murmuring.
âyou wanna see what else i can do?â
âwhatâ what else?â
megumiâs face remained pressed against your cheek as he let both of his hands now snake underneath your shirt and upwards, slowly but roughly groping the cup of your tits over your bra, feeling you up as you gasped.
âuh huh..â he pressed an open mouthed wet kiss to your pink fuzzy cheek. ââcause i can do a lot more than just be your cool baseball man.â
he roughly spun you around and pushed you up against the wall, his hands coming back up to your breasts to grope you as he shoved and rubbed his hardened clothed dick against your perky ass, your tiny skirt riding up and revealing your pretty pink panties that made him absolutely feral.
âgumi!â you gasped. âsâsomeone could seeââ
âi donât fucking care.â
megumi buried his nose further into the back of your neck and your hair, him being a little pervert in the most delicious and intoxicating way possible.
he dragged his mouth up against your skin and latched on to the nape of your neck, sucking and biting sloppily against it as he marked you aggressively, no doubt in your mind that a purple bruise would follow soon after as his hands slipped under your bra now, pinching your hard nipples meanly and laughing when you jumped.
you moaned and whined against the wall, your body trembling as you felt your slick arousal slip from your hole and dampen your panties, choked up embarrassment coating your face as he shoved his fingers down your skirt without warning.
âyouâre soaked babyâŠâ he whispered. âand all because i grabbed your tits?â
âmegumiiiâŠâ you whined, and you squeaked as he quickly slipped his fingers in between your pussy lips and pinched your clit.
âgumi,â he corrected. âfix it.â
âgâgumiââ
âgood, pretty baby...â he praised, his dick rock fucking solid against your ass at the way his fingers slipped and slid in between your lower lips without much effort, both of your chests heaving and panting as your brains frazzled erotically.
the sounds of footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and you both immediately froze, a gasp slipping past your lips before megumi quickly covered your mouth with the same hand that was just fingering you.
âshh.â he kissed the back of your head.
if anyone were to walk in and see the sight before themâ megumi with his crotch pressed up against your ass, a hand pushing your top and bra up, squeezing your bare puffy tit and the other covering your mouth?
theyâd drop dead.
without another moment wasted, megumi uncovered your mouth and turned you around, his tongue darting out and licking the patch of wet on your cheek from his fingers before shoving them in his mouth, sucking up your left over juice as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder.
megumi was freaky.
your eyes widened as he walked to the double doors of the locker room and kicked it open with his foot, turning around to lock them shut before walking to a corner and setting you down gently on a bench, his palms flat beside you on the smooth wood as he towered over you.
âisâ is everybody gone?â
âlong gone.â he nibbled at your cheek.
âbutâ but what if someone wants to come in?ââ
he pulled away and got down on his knees. âiâll tell them to fuck off.â
you panted as he pressed his hands against your thighs and squeezed, spreading them apart slowly with his eyes trained to your drenched cute pink panties.
he slid his hands underneath your thighs and lifted, bending you and pressing your knees closer to you as your back hit the lockers behind you, your hands gripping the bench for dear life.
âhas anyone ever seen your pussy?â he gruffed, licking his lips.
you shook your head, embarrassed. ânâno.â
âhas any other man touched you the way iâve touched you?â
âmâmaybe in high school?ââ
megumi sunk his teeth into your inner thigh and bit you as you yelped.
âthought you liked me.â
âi do!â you sputtered.
âclearly not if youâre being a little whore and letting other filthy men on you.â
your hole clenched.
âthatâ that was before you!â
he stuck his tongue out and pressed it flat against your pussy covered panties, dragging it slowly and agonizingly up until the tip of his tongue passed and flicked up against your clit, the tip moving around and around your little nub as your thighs shook.
âdoesnât matter.â he let a string of drool fall from the corner of his lips and over your ruined underwear, your eyes fluttering as you felt his warm saliva ooze in between your lips.
âand what about takuma, hm?â
you tried to open your eyes. âtaâtakuma?â
âmhm. he was all over you.â
you hiccuped as he wrapped his fingers around the straps of your panties and pulled them down.
âiââ
âbet he wanted to do to you what iâm doing right nowâŠâ he hummed. âwould you have let him?â
he stuffed his nose into your bare pussy and inhaled deeply, your jaw dropping as you squeezed your eyes shut.
your lack of response caused him to pull away and bite your thigh again, harder.
âwould you?â
ânâno!â you shook your head quickly, strands of your hair lightly grazing your face. âi wouldnâtââ
âso who then?â he licked over his bite mark. âwho would you spread your legs open for like this and let them see what a nasty fucking girl you areâŠâ
âyou gumi!â you hiccuped. âjust youââ
âjust me?â
megumi finally let his tongue slither itself in between your folds, slowly running over your flaps and clit as your hole continued to squelch out your arousal, pooling on the bench beneath you.
âyâyes!â
he slobbered and spit over your pussy like a starved dog, his face glistening like sugary glazed sweets.
âthatâs what i fucking thought,â he hummed. âyou gonna try and forget me again?â
âno!â you shook your head. ânever! i canât!â
he gripped your thighs tighter as he absolutely violated your folds then, wet sloshing and slurpings filling the air as he spat and shook his head side to side rapidly on your clit, you squealing and attempting to snap your thighs shut in response, his strong grip not letting you even if you tried.
âiâi canât!â you cried. âgumi slow please itâs too muchââ
âbe a pretty baby and stop complaining.â he ran his slimy tongue over your pussy entirely before shoving it inside your hole.
you choked and clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, tears of ecstasy spilling from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut.
you whimpered and moaned and cried so pathetically, so cutely in his ears that he grinned as he pumped his tongue in and out of you filthily.
âyouâre so fucking sweetââ he slapped your cunt and you jumped. âgood thing i have a sweet tooth.â
your legs shook violently as you began to see stars, your tight hole clenching and sputtering around nothing as you felt your release approaching.
âgumiââ your hand flew back to the bench and you gripped it. âmâgonna cum! iâmâ iâm gonna make a messââ
megumiâs hand shot up and wrapped around one of your thighs so the tips of his fingers met your clit, his digits proceeding to rub and flick it as you climbed and reached your high, a high pitched scream echoing through the steamy locker room as your pussy leaked your sweet cum on his tongue.
you shuddered and jumped at the way he cleaned up your release and swallowed it, running his tongue soothingly over the bite marks on your thighs before coming back up and wiping his glistening face with his sleeve.
megumi leaned in and pressed a gentle loving kiss to your lips, a complete turn around from the feral beast you had in between your legsâ you kissing him back with just as much feel and affection.
he pulled back and got back up on his feet, you watching him ditzy as he jogged over to his locker and turned the lock until it clicked open, him rummaging inside for a little before he shut it and came back with a fresh pair of gray sweatpants.
âput these on baby,â he murmured.
you nodded sweetly and took them from him, you slipping off your skirt and pulling his sweatpants over as you watched him bend and look over corners.
âwhat are you looking for?â you asked softly.
he perked up then and stuck his hand under a bench, pulling out your wet ruined pink panties and holding them up high like a trophy.
âoh my godââ you covered your mouth in embarrassment. âgive me those!â
ânope.â he shook his head and walked over to his duffel bag on the floor, unzipping it before stuffing your panties inside. âthese are mine now.â
megumi came back up and wrapped his palm underneath your chin, tilting your face up softly before planting a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.
âand so are you.â
and that you were.
you went on many many dates with megumi after that, each and every single one so incredibly lovely and fun, a genuine connection you felt with him and each other that you had never ever felt before in your life, absolutely enamored by the way he gently treated you and made you feel like the only one that mattered in his life.
your best friend was obviously over the moon for you, squealing like a maniac at everything you told her, and always teased megumi about his lovesick face whenever you came to his games or appeared in the locker room to help him change, sort his clothes, or fix his hair.
âmegumiâŠâ she snickered. âyour cheeks are a little red! are you likeâ sick?â
he scowled at her and turned the other way, wiping his sweaty forehead as he watched you bounce down the steps cutely and onto the field after one of his practices, a huge smile on your face that replicated on his.
the minute you jumped into his arms, he peppered your little cheeks with kisses as you giggled and ruffled his spiky hair, asking him how he felt about practice and other things after he set you down.
without anyone noticing, a journalist was on the field, and at the sight of megumi fushiguroâs beaming toothy smile as he watched you run to him, they quickly snapped a photo and published it.
one was a perfect portrait photo of his shining white smile (that later became his signature picture) and the other was a photo of his arms out for you as you ran, the both of them causing an absolute uproar that altered megumiâs image from that day forward.
megumi fushiguro was thought to be the meanest player on the team since the day he got signed.
but when he started taking more pictures with fans, kind of stopped offending the people around him, signed more autographs, and smiled occasionally at the paparazziâ all while your pretty self stood right next to him?
megumi fushiguro was sometimes the meanest player on the team.
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summary: you babysat little thirteen-year-old megumi once upon a time, but now, ten years later? you spot him at a club looking way too hot to be your awkward kid from the past. you try to play it cool but end up lowkey embarrassing yourself with some accidental flirting. plot twist: heâs actually a new intern at your job, and suddenly the vibeâs all kinds of heat. after a lot of teasing, tension, and some seriously awkward moments, one night the heat finally breaksâand megumi proves heâs way past kid status.
cw: age gap (4ish years), time skips, power dynamics, sexual tension, piv smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, teasing, 7.9k wc
the coffee table was covered in greasy pizza boxes â cheese for megumi, pepperoni for you and tsumiki, who was currently flopped upside down on the couch like a melting popsicle, humming to herself with her slice dangling over her face.
you were cross-legged on the carpet beside megumi, pink nails tapping your phone calculator while he aggressively stabbed his pencil at a multiplication worksheet like it had wronged him in another life.
"this is so stupid," he muttered, brows furrowed. âwhy canât i just use a calculator like everyone else?â
you gasped, hand on your heart like heâd just offended your ancestors. âexcuse me?! megumi fushiguro, did you just try to commit math blasphemy in front of me?â
he stared blankly. â...what?â
you giggled and leaned over to squint at his half-erased answers. âbabe, what is this? did you write ninety-nine for nine times nine?â
his face immediately flushed. âshut up.â
you grinned and, without thinking, ruffled his hair.
he jerked away instantly. âdonât do that,â he said, cheeks flaming.
âoh my god,â you laughed, âyouâre so dramatic. you didnât care when i did it when you were nine.â
he didnât answer, jaw tense, pencil gripped like he wanted to snap it in half. his bangs shadowed his eyes, and heâd gotten taller since the last time you saw him â lanky, a little awkward, but starting to grow into it. thirteen looked weird on him. it made him seem older than he was and younger than he wanted to be.
âah, y/n! you have no idea how much we needed this, thank you so much for babysitting last minute,â mrs. fushiguro exclaimed, cheeks rosyâprobably from a little too much wine.
mr. fushiguro just grunted in greeting, wandering over to play-wrestle with megumi and swipe one of his slices.
you popped up with a bubbly little wave. âhi! donât even worry about it, the kids were angels.â
megumi looked personally insulted by that.
tsumiki chirped from the couch, âwe made megumi do math and suffer. it was awesome.â
âdoing math on a friday night is illegal,â megumi groaned, still hunched over the table.
âyouâre just mad you thought nine times nine was ninety-nine,â you sing-songed while slipping on your shoes.
mrs. fushiguro laughed, digging through her purse. âso, y/n, do you have a boyfriend yet? youâre too cute to be single.â
you laughed, flustered. ânot yet, iâm focusing on school right nowâfinals season is killing me.â
mr. fushiguro emerged with a mouth full of pizza. âthatâs good. boys your age donât know their head from their ass.â
you laughed again, but then megumi grumbled something behind himâloud enough to catch everyoneâs attention.
âwhat does she need a boyfriend for? she has me.â
no one said anything for a second. then mr. fushiguro broke the silence by yanking megumi into a headlock and cackling.
âso youâre into older women now, huh? gotta type already, little man?â
âdad, shut upâ!â
âoh, megumi,â his mom added, shaking her head with a smile, âi think y/n needs another seventeen-year-old to call her boyfriend. not a middle schooler in minecraft pajamas.â
you giggled behind your hand, careful not to hurt megumiâs feelings. even tsumiki was giggling watching her older brother get oddly flustered.
âspeaking of,â his mom continued, ây/n, can you just double check that tsumiki brushed her teeth? i need toji to look at something in the garage.â
toji blinked, pizza still in hand. âi thought we were doing that tomorrowâ?â
tsumiki was already tucked in by the time you padded back into the living room. megumi was standing awkwardly by the hallway now, hands in the pockets of his pajama pants, gaze fixed on the floor.
âhey,â you said gently. âyou good?â
he nodded a little too quickly. âyouâre not gonna come over anymore, right?â
you blinked. âwhat?â
âmy mom said... tsumiki doesnât need a babysitter anymore.â
you tilted your head, smile softening. âyeah, sheâs getting big. you both are.â
he didnât reply. just scowled at the floor like it had offended him. you reached out and tugged playfully at his sleeve.
âiâm gonna miss you, gumi,â you said, voice bright but fond. âwho else is gonna argue with me about math and threaten to burn my worksheets?â
he mumbled something under his breath that you didnât quite catch.
you leaned in with a teasing grin, smacked a big pink kiss to his cheek, and said, âyou better not forget about me, okay? âcause iâm definitely not gonna forget you.â
then you were grabbing your purse and heading for the door, heels clicking cheerfully as you called over your shoulderâ
âand stop growing! next time i do see you, you might be 2 heads taller than me.â
megumi stood frozen in the hallway, cheeks burning, hand lifting to touch the faint imprint of your lipstick.
ten years later
the club was packedâsweaty bodies grinding to half-broken trap remixes off todayâs top hits, the floor sticky with spilled cocktails and too much cologne. you were deep in the chaos, laughing with your friends between flirty little conversations that ended in free drinks. not trying to pull. just dancing. vibing. glowing.
you were tipsy and stunningâlip gloss poppin', hair perfectly messy, dress barely hanging on. living your life.
and across the dance floorâ
â...megumi?â
he freezes like you slapped him. blinks once. twice. because youâre not supposed to be here. you live in a memory, in warm pizza boxes and butterfly clips and highlighter-pink hoodies. you are softness and warmth and the scent of strawberry body spray from the early 2010s. but nowâ
now you're grown. glowing. sultry. moving your hips to the beat in a way that has no business being legal. and your mouth is still glossy, and megumi is not okay.
you light up. slap some poor guyâs hand off your ass and practically trip your way toward himâyour heels clicking like fate. heâs standing by one of the high-top tables, drink in hand, frozen like heâs seen a ghost with a bbl.
you fling your arms around his neck without hesitation, your tits fully pressed to his chest like itâs nothing, giggling in disbelief.
âoh my godâyou're drinking?! my baby is drinking?! stop itttt.â
he stiffens. âyouâyou donât have to call meââ
âmegumi,â you interrupt, dramatically clutching his shoulders. âi babysat you when you still had spider-man sheets. i used to wipe your nose.â
âyou absolutely did notââ
âi did! you were likeââmath is stupidââand you had crusty eye boogers, and now youâre here drinking, looking allâŠâ your eyes drag over him and you wiggle your fingers teasingly. â...grown.â
you pull back just enough to really look at himâand your giggle falters.
because oh. oh.
heâs tall. and broad. and sharp-jawed and annoyingly sexy in that quiet, effortless, completely illegal kind of way.
you blink. "you got hot."
megumiâs brain blue-screens.
"noâi meanâyouâve grown up! thatâs what i meant. i used to babysit you!"
you donât seem to realize how close you are. youâre swaying into him, arm still slung over his shoulders like youâve done it a thousand times. fingers casually toying with the ends of his hair like itâs your right. like youâre not wearing a backless dress that megumi is painfully aware could slide off with one wrong move.
you, still blissfully unaware, play with the little chain around his neck now. âyou work out too, huh? i knew youâd be tall. i remember thinking that when you were like thirteenââthis kidâs gonna grow up and be hot.ââ you laugh like you didnât just casually ruin his entire night.
megumi stares at you, eyes wide, face absolutely flaming, hands clenched so tightly around his drink itâs a miracle the glass hasnât shattered.
and thenâ
ây/n!â a voice calls from the crowd. âthere you are!â
yuki slides in out of nowhere, arm snaking around your waist like a protective older sister on a mission. her eyes flick from megumi to your hand on his chain to the way youâre basically draped over him and then back to megumi, whose expression is screaming please kill me right now.
she leans in and stage-whispers, âwhy are you flirting with a college freshman?â
you blink like she just spoke elvish. âwhat?? iâm not! thatâsâmegumi!â
yukiâs brows lift. â...uh-huh.â
âi used to babysit him!â you laugh, slapping megumi lightly on the chest for emphasis. âisnât that so funny?!â
megumi is dying.
yuki smiles. but itâs tight.
poor kid. he's standing there, stunned, blinking after you like you just set him on fire and walked away.
yuki sighs to herself.
he definitely had a crush on you.
still does.
yuki disappears into the crowd with a look that says good luck, kid, and you're already turning back to megumi with a dazed smile.
"sorryyyy," you giggle, fanning yourself a little. "sheâs protective. but isnât that cute? that she thought i was flirting with you?â
megumi makes a noise in the back of his throat. it mightâve been a laugh. it mightâve been his soul leaving his body. âyeah. cute.â
you donât even hear him. you're sipping your drink and swaying to the beat again, head tilted, body language loose and open like you belong in the music. the lights shift pink, then blue, then strobe whiteâeach flash catching the sparkle of your jewelry, your glitter gloss, the sweat on your collarbones.
megumi is trying not to look. he is failing.
âgod,â you huff, âi feel so old lately. but youââ you gesture at him vaguely. âyouâre making me feel ancient right now. you were a child the last time i saw you, and now youâve got arms and stubble and shit? not fair.â
you set your drink down and stretch dramatically, your chest pushing out and tits practically falling out . you donât notice the way megumiâs eyes dropâdonât notice the flicker of panic on his face as he forces himself to look away and adjust the front of his pants like heâs trying to pass it off as casual.
he clears his throat. âyou donât look old.â
you beam at him. âaw, thanks, baby.â
baby. oh god. he nearly chokes on his own spit.
the way you say itâso casuallyâmakes something in his chest seize up.
"megumi," a voice callsâbright, amused. itâs another guy his age with pink hair, followed closely by an even bigger and muscular guy with a black man bun. "you good, man?"
pink hairâs eyes flick between you and megumi and light up. he elbows the bigger guy. "yo, heâs so not good. look at him. dudeâs malfunctioning."
"i used to babysit him," you offer quickly, like that explains anything. like that makes this less weird.
the big guy snorts. pink hair looks delighted.
"cool," pink hair says. "you babysit all your kids like that?"
you shove at his arm playfully, cheeks hot. megumi is still dead silent, jaw tight, hands in his pockets like if he moves them heâll do something very illegal.
before you can say anything else, yuki materializes behind you, tugging your wrist. "babe, drink. letâs go. enough flirting"
you squawk, "i was not flirtingâheâs megumi! i used to babysit him! and heâs, like, twenty-three now!"
yuki glances at megumiâstill stiff, still watching you like youâre made of sinâand hums. "right. poor kid."
you let her drag you away, sipping your drink, heart beating a little weirdly fast. but by the time yuki hands you another daiquiri youâve long forgotten about your run-in with the kid you used to babysit ten years go.
monday rolls around and youâre in the breakroom, adjusting the office keurig like itâs your sworn duty. your mug says "boss babe, brat edition" in obnoxiously cute pink font, and youâve just finished swirling your creamer in when yuki sidles up beside you, designer sunglasses still perched on top of her head and an overpriced latte in hand.
âgod,â she sighs, âi can't wait for the interns to get here. iâm gonna make them do all my paperwork while i take an extra lunch.â
you laugh into your cup. âitâs barely 9am and youâre already planning your escape.â
âself-care,â she shrugs.
a few more of your coworkers filter in, sleep-deprived and carrying folders. you greet them cheerfully, air-kissing a few cheeks and wishing people a good morning like the workplace princess you are. the heels, the lip gloss, the iced coffeeâyouâre basically the human embodiment of a good linkedin headshot.
you swipe your tablet from your desk and strut your way to the main conference room, where your poor baby interns are waiting for their intro trainingâwhich is just twenty soul-sucking slides of hr compliance and outdated office etiquette. itâs tradition. you consider it a hazing ritual.
you push open the door with a practiced smile, ready to greet the sea of nervous college grads with something cute and perkyâ
and then you see him.
seated near the middle of the u-shaped table setup, black button-up slightly wrinkled, blue lanyard slung around his neck.
no. way.
your heart stutters, and you blink hard like your brain short-circuited. you double-check the clipboard in your hand like it might say surprise! that boy from the club is also your intern now!
but it doesnât.
and heâs definitely here. megumi fushiguro. sitting tall and tense, jaw tight, eyes wide.
you donât even realize youâve said it out loud:
ââŠmegumi?â
the room falls silent. every intern is now watching you two like this is a k-drama scene.
his mouth twitches. he looks like he might simply evaporate into the floor. â...hi.â
you blink again.
hi??
youâre pretty sure your brain melts a little on the spot. this is the same guy you saw at the club three nights agoâthe same guy whose biceps you complimented while slurring something about spider-man bedsheets.
and now heâs here.
wearing slacks.
in your intern orientation.
âoh my god,â you murmur. âyou didnât tell me you were interning here.â
âyou didnât give me a chance,â he says, and you swearâhe sounds almost smug.
your mouth drops open a little. you blink at him, stunned and pink in the cheeks, and then remember yourselfâright, there are ten other baby employees staring at you, and youâre supposed to be the confident one here.
you clap your hands once, forcing your professional smile back on. âokay! welcome everyone, letâs get started, weâre gonna have so much fun!â
you turn to the screen, clicking your little presentation remote like your life depends on it, and you feel megumiâs eyes burning into your back.
and all you can think is:
this canât be happening.
tuesday
youâre humming to yourself in the elevator, scrolling through your phone, when the doors slide open and bamâin walks megumi.
alone.
you grin.
âwell, well, if it isnât my favorite little intern.â
he visibly stiffens. âyouâve gotta stop saying that.â
âwhat? that youâre my favorite?â
âthat you used to babysit me.â
you laugh and lean your shoulder against the elevator wall, eyes dragging over him shamelessly.
âsorry,â you say sweetly. âiâll stop... once iâm no longer picturing those spider-man sheets.â
he groans under his breath.
and you? you donât notice the way his gaze flickers down to your legs, or the way heâs biting the inside of his cheek when you tilt your head just so.
that night, youâre washing your face and trying to unwind when the memory hits you like a truck: the club.
you groan into your towel.
because yeah, tuesday morning you were all smug and flirty in the elevator, but now youâre remembering just how unhinged you were the first time you ran into him againâlike three months ago, at yukiâs birthday thing. loud club, slutty dress, way too many tequila shots. youâd been dancing on him. had your hands on his shoulders. called him âgrown nowâ with a wink. maybe even touched his jaw.
and he just stood there all cool and quiet with that unreadable look on his face while you were acting like a full-blown cougar in heat.
âjesus christ,â you mutter to your ceiling. âi babysat him.â
no wonder he looked at you weird this morning. he probably thinks youâre some thirsty, washed-up ex-babysitter with a weird age gap kink.
you bury your face in your pillow and scream internally for a good thirty seconds.
and maybe thatâs why, when wednesday rolls around, you start dialing it back.
you were just trying to get coffee. you swear thatâs all you were doing.
but then megumi walked in, sleeves rolled up, forearms all veiny and pretty, with his messy black hair pushed back like he didnât even tryâand your brain short-circuited.
the boy you used to babysit is now a fully grown, hot, adult man. and your body is reacting accordingly.
he mumbles a tired âmorningâ as he reaches past you to grab a mug, and your breath catches becauseâwhat the hell. when did his voice get that deep?
you back up a little too fast and end up knocking over the sugar packet holder. classic.
âyou good?â he asks, one brow raised.
âyup,â you squeak, scooping up the mess without looking at him. âtotally good. justâcoffee. havenât had coffee. haha.â
he watches you for a second, lips twitching like heâs holding in a laugh.
normally, youâd swat at his arm. tease him. call him a brat.
but instead, you keep your eyes fixed on your mug and tell yourself to get it together.
because this is megumi. you used to babysit him. he probably sees you as some weird big sister figure and here you are practically blushing because he said "good morning."
besidesâheâs 23. fresh out of college. probably into girls who go to music festivals and do their skincare routines on tiktok. not a tired 28-year-old corporate zombie whose back hurts when she sits down too fast.
even if he is disgustingly good-looking now. even if he smells like sandalwood and makes your stomach do somersaults.
âokay,â you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than to him. âweâre dialing it back.â
and you do. you donât touch his arm. you donât mention his spider-man sheets. you donât call him baby megumi.
you grab your coffee and walk out like a respectable adult woman.
and megumi watches you go with the faintest frown on his face.
thursdayÂ
somethingâs off.
youâre quieter today. still sweet, still smiling, but... distant.
heâs not imagining it. you used to bump your shoulder when you walked past, used to throw him little teasing jabs, used to light up when he said something dry that made you laugh.
now?
now youâre polite. reserved. a little stiff.
and megumi has no idea what the fuck he did.
he finds himself watching you, trying to pinpoint when the switch flipped.
itâs not like he didnât notice beforeâhow pretty you are. how funny. how you make a stupid office feel like something warm.
but now, itâs like youâve put up a glass wall. youâre still right there, but out of reach.
and he hates it.
he catches you in the break room again, smiling too tightly while pouring your coffee.
"youâre avoiding me," he says before he can stop himself.
you blink, startled. âwhat? no, iâm just busy.â
âyouâre not busy right now.â
you glance at him, then look away quickly. âi figured youâd want some space. iâve been kind of... annoying.â
annoying? he wants to shake you.
instead, he just clenches his jaw and mutters, âyou werenât.â
but youâre already slipping out the door with your coffee, head ducked.
and megumiâs left standing there, wondering if he imagined the whole connection. if he hallucinated your teasing smiles and flirty comments and the soft way you looked at him on tuesday.
he pulls out his phone, types out a text to tsumiki.
her: âwait you saw her again???â
him: âshe works here.â
her: âmegumi. omg. did you tell her you had a massive crush on her.â
him: âno.â
her: âdoes she still wear the glittery lip gloss???â
him: âyes.â
he sighs and closes the thread.
fridayÂ
someone in marketing shouts it out first: âdrinks after work? to celebrate the new interns?â
everyoneâs murmuring agreement. even your boss nods.
you nudge megumiâs arm with your elbow, slowly grinning. âcoming out with us?â
he hesitates.
you tilt your head. âcome on. you should go.â
âfor what?â
âget to know some of us outside our desks and business casual wearâ
âi already know you.â
âmegumii.â
ââŠfine.â
later that day, yuki catches you lingering by the copy machine and immediately clocks the way your eyes flick toward megumi when he walks by.
âyou good, girly?â she says under her breath.
you wave her off. âfine.â
âyouâre not flirting with your baby intern anymore.â
âi was never flirting.â
she arches a brow. âbabe.â
you sigh. âheâs just... not a kid anymore. i realized that.â
yuki hums. âand thatâs a bad thing?â
âitâs just weird, okay?â you hiss. âheâs 23. iâm almost 28. i used to make him chicken nuggets.â
âokay but now you want him to rail you into next week.â
you gasp. âyukiââ
âtell me iâm wrong.â
you donât.
happy hour rolls around, and the bar starts filling up with tired salarymen and even more exhausted hourly workers. your office has a long table pushed together in the back, half your coworkers already crowding around with drinks in hand while the rest hover near the pool table.
you chew the inside of your cheek, debating whether or not to get megumi a drink. heâs over by the bar, laughing at something one of the other interns said, posture easy and relaxed.
you werenât exactly avoiding him. you were just⊠setting boundaries. for yourself. trying to be normal. professional. and now, being in the same dimly lit bar as himâtipsy and tired and way too aware of how stupid hot he isâfeels like a terrible idea.
yuki slings an arm around your shoulder and groans dramatically. âcan you please just fuck him already?â
you choke on your beer. violently.
âyuki!â you whisper-shout, eyes wide as you glance around to make sure no one heard your deranged little menace of a friend.
she just takes another swig from her pint and leans in closer, lowering her voice but still way too loud. âwhat? youâve been eye-fucking him since before you even knew he was working here. and you're too naive to notice heâs been eye-fucking you back.â
âi have not beenâwait, heâs been what?â
yuki deadpans. âare you serious right now? if you would stop spiraling for like two seconds, youâd see it.â
she grabs your chin, gently but with intent, and turns your head toward the barâright where megumiâs sitting.
heâs looking at you.
his gaze flicks away the second your eyes meet, but not fast enough to pretend he wasnât staring. his ears go pink. he says something to the intern beside him, but his whole body shifts like he's been caught.
your stomach swoops.
still, you shake your head. no. nope. nothingâs going to happen. first of all, you work together now. thatâs inappropriate. second of all, you used to babysit him, which is⊠arguably more inappropriate. megumi probably thinks youâre a freak. heâs probably this close to reporting you to hr.
so, you do what any sane, responsible adult would do: avoid him for the rest of the night.
you play pool with the accounting team, gossip with the customer service reps, and keep your eyes anywhere but on megumiâno matter how many times yuki throws you the worldâs most pointed looks across the table.
eventually, people start trickling out. one by one. then in pairs. then in carpools. youâre settling your tab and sipping on some watered-down coke when someone slides into the seat next to you.
you look upâand of course itâs him.
megumi. looking warm and flushed and slightly buzzed. his hair a little messy. his shirt rumpled at the sleeves.
âhey,â he says, voice soft and low.
you blink. âhi.â
heâs close enough that his thigh brushes yours every time he shifts.
youâre acutely aware of it.
the warmth of his body. the clean, faint scent of sandalwood and laundry detergent. the occasional flex of his forearm as he nurses his drink.
youâre not even drunk. thatâs the worst part.
youâre just buzzing. nerves and want and something heavy curling low in your belly.
âcan we talk?â
your stomach dips. you nod once, trying to look normalâcool, evenâas if you havenât spent the past week panicking over every interaction youâve had with this man.
megumi glances around, then tips his chin toward the hallway leading to the back patio. âout there?â
you follow him outside, where the noise from the bar softens into a low hum behind the glass. the air is cooler out here, a soft breeze carrying the faint scent of street food and cigarette smoke. thereâs no one else around.
megumi leans against the railing, arms folded, gaze fixed somewhere out in the distance. you wait, heart beating in your throat.
âyouâve been avoiding me,â he says finally, quiet but direct.
you blink. âi havenâtââ
âyes, you have.â
you pause. then sigh, leaning your back against the railing beside him. âokay. maybe a little.â
he turns his head toward you, jaw tight. âdid i do something wrong?â
the way he says itâso genuinely unsureâmakes your chest ache a little.
âno,â you say quickly. âgod, no. you didnât. i justâŠâ you trail off, chewing your lip. âiâve been trying to be professional,â
âi guess i was just scared i was making you feel weird or something this week,â you continue in a murmur, âwith all the teasing.â
megumi nods. âi admit, maybe telling half the office i used to wear super mario underwear was a little much at first, but⊠itâs you. so itâs okay.â
you glance over. âyou sure?â
he looks at you for a long beat. then, quietly:
âiâm not thirteen anymore.â
and oh.
itâs like something in the air cracks. sharp and electric.
you laugh, light and disbelieving, because what the fuck kind of answer is that. âyeah, no shit, megumi. i noticed.â
his gaze dropsâslowly. from your eyes, to your mouth, then down to your thighs, crossed tightly under the table.
âdid you?â he says, voice low.
your breath catches.
for a moment, neither of you say anything. the bar chatter fades to a background blur. you can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the thrum of something heavy and unspoken between you.
you donât look away.
âwhy are you looking at me like that?â you ask, barely above a whisper.
megumi huffs a quiet laugh, one that doesn't reach his eyes. âyou really donât get it, do you?â
ââŠget what?â
he leans in, just slightly. enough to brush his knee against yours. enough to make your pulse stutter.
âi used to wait up on the couch just to see you when you came to babysit. stayed in my room late on purpose so youâd come knock and say goodnight. i used to think about you every fucking day for years.â
you freeze.
your heart is a runaway train in your chest. ââgumiââ
he smiles, soft but a little self-deprecating. âi used to have dreams about you when i was, like, fifteen. woke up so hard it hurt. and now youâre here. looking like this. wearing pencil skirts and calling me your favorite.â
you stare at him.
heâs not even teasing. heâs dead serious.
and suddenly you canât breathe.
you feel hot. your skin prickles with awareness. your thighs clench under the table and you donât know what to do with your hands.
âis thisâŠâ you swallow, trying to keep your voice level, âis this you flirting with me?â
âno,â he says simply. âthat was me telling you i want to fuck you.â
your jaw drops. you blink once, twice. youâre pretty sure the earth shifts on its axis.
he glances down, then back up. âif thatâs not what you want, just say so.â
you don't say anything.
you can't.
because the truth is, your entire body is screaming yes. every nerve ending has been wound tight all week and now he's just offering himself up like this? looking like that?
you scramble to think, to act normal, to not do something thatâll land you in hr monday morning.
but then he says, softlyâ
âyouâre not my babysitter anymore.â
and thatâs the last fucking straw.
you grab your purse.
megumi blinks. âwaitââ
âcome with me,â you say, voice low and tight.
ââŠwhere?â
âaway from the bar.â
you grab his arm, weaving through the crowd like youâre on autopilot. the second you step outside, you yank him around the corner into the alley behind the barâhidden from view but still close enough to hear the bass thumping through the walls.
ây/n, iâm sorryâ i didnât mean to make you feel uncomfortable, i justââ
you donât let him finish.
your hands fist in the collar of his shirt and you drag him down into a kiss so heated it nearly knocks the wind out of you both.
megumi freezes for half a secondâjust one. then heâs moving like heâs been waiting for this all night, hands snapping to your waist and yanking you flush against him. you moan into his mouth, high and breathy, already addicted to the way heâs gripping you like heâs afraid youâll vanish.
your fingers roam down his chest, tracing every dip of muscle through his shirt until you reach the waistband of his pants.
he shudders. his breath catches.
you break the kiss and pant against his lips, eyes glittering.
âyouâre a great kisser, âgumi.â
megumi huffs a laugh and presses his mouth to the underside of your jaw. âwish i could say i learned from the best.â
you blush. blush. at him.
looking away, you clear your throat. âdo you⊠wanna come back to my place?â
megumi lifts his head. his eyes are dark. focused.
âiâll drive.â
the ride to your apartment is tense and silentâat least, on the surface. but his hand stays glued to your thigh the entire time, his thumb stroking just shy of your inner leg. every red light feels like a test. every brush of his knuckle makes you want to drag his hand higher and make him feel how wet you are already.
by the time you unlock your door, youâre trembling. not from fearâbut from anticipation. from knowing this is real.
inside, the door clicks shut behind you.
and suddenly, you hesitate.
you falter. your confidence wavers, like the reality of it all is just now hitting you.
âso, wanna drink something?â you murmur, leaning back against the kitchen counter, fingers tapping lightly on the cool surface, heart thudding with that familiar anticipation.
megumi edges closer, voice low and rough, âno, thereâs something else i want way more.â
then, without warning, heâs got you caged inâarms wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you flush to him. but this kiss? itâs nothing like that frantic, desperate one at the bar. this time, heâs slow, deliberate, like heâs memorizing the curve of your lips with his own.
your legs coil around his waist, heels slipping off as he lifts you onto the counter effortlessly.
he nips your bottom lip softly, making you whimper, hands trailing up your skirt, skin warm against your thighs. meanwhile, your fingers fumble clumsily over the buttons of his shirt, eager and trembling.
he hums against your mouth, kisses getting messy and urgent, swallowing your moans like theyâre his oxygen.
finally, his hands find the place you crave mostâspreading your thighs wider, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. he smirks against your lips when he feels your knees shake under his touch.
you gasp when his thumb grazes your underwear, just barely brushing over your soaked clit.
âfuckâyou're soaked,â megumi groans, breath hot against your skin.
you giggle, breathless, âcan you really blame me?â
his eyes flash darker. âno. but i want to hear you say it anyway.â
you part your lips, about to answer, but then his fingers slip beneath the band of your underwear and stroke your slit onceâslow, deliberate, teasingâand your brain just short-circuits.
âohâfuck,â you breathe, hips bucking into his hand. âmegumiââ
âyouâre soaked for me,â he murmurs, nosing at your jaw. âand i havenât even touched you properly yet.â
âthen touch me properly,â you whimper, shameless now, thighs trembling.
megumi lets out a low groan that vibrates against your neck. âdonât tempt me.â
but he does.
he pushes your underwear aside and slides two fingers into you in one smooth motion, the stretch making you keen as your walls clench tight around him.
âfuckââgumiââ
he groans again at the nickname, curling his fingers until your eyes flutter. âyou always say my name like that?â
you nod, delirious. âonly when iâm about to come.â
he smirks. âgood. gonna make you say it over and over.â
you cling to him, nails scraping his shoulders as he pumps his fingers steadily inside you, thumb finding your clit like he already knows your body better than you do. youâre panting now, hips rolling into his touch, desperate for more.
âlook at you,â he murmurs, watching your face like heâs memorizing every twitch, every gasp. âso pretty like this. sâlike you were made to fall apart in my hands.â
you whimper, thighs trembling against the counter as his fingers curl just right inside you.
âyou always look this good when someone touches you, or is it just me?â his voice is low, rough, and just the tiniest bit smug.
you donât answerâyou canâtânot when his thumb circles your clit again and your hips jerk, chasing the pressure. but he knows. he can feel your body answering him.
âyouâve been acting so shy all week,â he mutters, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. âthought maybe you didnât want me. but this?â
he fucks his fingers into you a little deeper. you gasp.
âthis says otherwise.â
your fingers tighten in his shirt, dizzy from how fast heâs unraveling you. âmegumi, iââ
âiâve wanted this,â he breathes. âsince that night at the club. since the second i saw you again.â
you moan when his tongue traces the shell of your ear.
âwanna hear you say it,â he growls softly. âtell me you want me too.â
you nod frantically, panting, âi doâi do, i justâfuckâwas trying to be normal, andââ
âfuck normal,â he mutters, cutting you off with a kiss, all tongue and heat and claiming. âi donât want normal. i want you.â
his fingers curl again, knuckles deep, hitting something devastating inside you. you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, your back arching off the kitchen counter.
âyouâre so close, arenât you?â he whispers, thumb rubbing relentless circles over your clit. âbeen teasing me all week like you didnât know exactly what you were doing. wearing those little skirts. biting your lip. looking at me like you wanted me to ruin you.â
âi wasnâtâ!â you try to argue, but your voice breaks into a moan, heat pooling low in your belly like a rubber band about to snap.
he chuckles darkly, and fuckâyou feel it more than you hear it. âno? then whatâs this?â he presses deeper, watching your thighs tremble.
your breath stutters. âmegumiâpleaseââ
and that does it. that makes something snap in him. the sound of his name falling from your lips all soft and desperate.
âgo ahead, baby,â he murmurs, lips brushing your jaw. âlet go. iâve got you.â
you fall apart with a strangled cry, legs shaking, his name breaking again and again from your mouth. he watches the whole thingâsoaking in every twitch, every breathy whimper, like it's the most sacred thing heâs ever seen.
when your hips twitch from oversensitivity, his touch finally easesâbut he doesnât move away.
instead, he lifts his fingers slowly, admiring how soaked they are, before sucking them into his mouth with a low groan.
your jaw drops. âmegumiâ!â
he grins, and for the first time since you reunited, you see itâthe boy you used to babysit peeking through the man heâs become. all teasing eyes and smugness and deep, aching affection.
âtaste better than i ever imagined,â he says.
you blink. âwhat?â
his smile softensâjust a little. âyou heard me.â
youâre still dazed, but you manage to breathe out, âyouâveâŠimagined this?â
megumi leans in again, hand sliding gently to cup your face.
âiâve dreamed about this night for years.â
your heart stutters in your chest. âyou have?â
âevery time i ran into someone who reminded me of you,â he murmurs. âevery time i walked past some girl wearing strawberry-pink lip gloss.â
his thumb brushes your bottom lip, gaze flicking down.
âbut none of them were you.â
you meltâjust a littleâbefore he grabs your hand and starts backing toward the hallway.
âcome on,â he murmurs, eyes darkening again. âiâm not done with you yet.â
you let him pull you toward the bedroom, heart pounding, thighs still trembling, a little giggly with disbelief.
âmegumiâwhat are you evenâ?â
he shoots you a look that shuts you right up. âi just made you cum on my fingers. now i wanna do it with my mouth.â
you whimper.
he grins. âyeah. thatâs what i thought.â
he peels the rest of your clothing off you, shedding off his own as well, then lays you out gently on the bed like youâre something preciousâuntil he gets between your thighs. then it's like he changes.
megumi kisses down your inner thighs slowly, reverently, hands strong and sure as they wrap around the backs of your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the bed.
âspread for me,â he murmurs against your skin. âwanna see how pretty you are like this.â
you shiver. âmegumiââ
âmm-mm.â he glances up through his lashes, mouth just hovering over your soaked panties. âsay it again.â
â...megumi,â you whisper, already breathless.
âno,â he says, nosing at the fabric. âgumi. like you did at the bar.â
your breath hitches. âgumiâŠâ
he groans low in his throat, almost like it hurts. âfuck. you have no idea what that does to me.â
and then heâs pulling your panties down in one fluid motion, tossing them somewhere behind him, eyes glued to your dripping pussy like itâs the first real thing heâs ever seen.
âyouâve been wet for me all week, havenât you?â he murmurs. âbet you were soaked every time i brushed your arm. every time you ran from me.â
his breath fans against you, and you squirm.
âiâi wasnât trying to tease youââ
he grins, all sharp teeth and dark eyes. âyou did anyway.â
and then he dives in.
tongue flat, slow, devastatingâlapping through your folds like heâs savoring every fucking second. you cry out, thighs already twitching around his head, but he just groans and presses in deeper, locking your hips down with his arms.
âfuck, gumiâ!â your back arches.
he hums against you, and you feel it everywhere. the vibration, the smugness, the feral little edge in it.
âshitâshitâyouâre so good at thisââ
megumi pulls back just long enough to say, âyou think i didnât practice for this?â
you stare down at him, wide-eyed, lips parted.
âdreamt about this too,â he pants, mouth already glistening. âused to jerk off thinking about how youâd taste. how youâd sound when i had you like this.â
you whimper, hips canting upâand he grins.
âyeah. just like that.â
his tongue circles your clit, soft at first, then rougher, alternating between slow, torturous laps and quick flicks that have you gasping, sobbing, clawing at the sheets.
âyouâreâfuck, gumiâyouâre so goodânnghâso good at this, holy shitââ
you swear he moans into your pussy, the praise going straight to his cock. one hand leaves your thigh to slide two fingers back inside you, curling just right, stroking you in perfect rhythm with his mouth.
âwant you to cum like this,â he murmurs against you. âall over my tongue.â
you shake your head, barely able to speak. âiâi canât lastâif you keep going like thatââ
âthen cum,â he growls, low and hungry. âfucking cum for me, baby.â
you fall apart with a sob, hips jerking, thighs clamping around his headâbut megumi doesnât stop. he rides you through it, drinking every drop, licking you like heâs memorizing the taste.
when you finally slump back onto the mattress, panting and twitching, he kisses your inner thigh, then your hip, then slowly crawls back up your body.
âstill want that drink?â he teases, smirking as he presses his forehead to yours.
you stare at him, dazed. âiâm gonna die.â
he snorts. ânot yet. i havenât even fucked you yet.â
you're still trying to catch your breath, back pressed to the mattress, chest rising and falling with every shaky inhale. your thighs are slick, still trembling from how hard you came, and megumiâs mouth is shiny with you, lips parted as he pants softly against your inner thigh.
he crawls up over you, body caging you in, and you think you might actually melt into the bed with how warm his weight feels hovering thereâhow safe.
his face hovers above yours, and you expect another kiss, more filthy teasingâbut instead, he pauses.
his thumb brushes gently over your cheek. âare you sure you want this?â
the words are soft. careful. not just asking for permissionâheâs giving you the chance to change your mind.
and fuck, that nearly ruins you more than anything else tonight.
you nod, voice barely above a whisper. âyeah. i want you.â
he stares at you for a long second, like heâs etching you into memory. then you ask, just as softly, âdo you?â
thereâs not even a beat.
âiâve wanted this since forever.â
itâs quiet. barely more than a breath.
and something in you shattersâyour heart, your restraint, whatever filter you had left. your fingers grip his jaw and you pull him down into a kiss so deep you feel it in your toes.
âthen show me,â you whisper against his lips. âplease.â
he doesnât hesitate.
one hand snakes between your bodies, and he lines himself up, the head of his cock thick and hot as it brushes against your entrance. he watches your face as he starts to push inâslow, deliberate, careful despite the way his jaw clenches from the effort of holding back.
you gasp, arching into him. âmegumiââ
âyouâre so fucking tight,â he groans. âshitâyou feel unreal.â
he buries himself to the hilt in one long stroke, and you swear your brain short-circuits. heâs thick, stretching you just shy of too much, and you swear you see stars.
he leans in, breath hot against your ear. âiâve thought about this. every night for years.â
you whimper, arms tightening around his shoulders. âyouâfuckâyouâre really good at this.â
megumi lets out a dark laugh, cock twitching inside you. âiâve been dreaming about this night since i was sixteen,â he breathes. âno way i wasnât gonna be ready.â
and then he movesâpulls his hips back and thrusts in deep, setting a rhythm thatâs slow but devastating. every drag of his cock is perfect, angled just right, like he already knows your body better than you do.
you choke out a moan. âoh my godââ
âi wanna ruin you,â he grits, snapping his hips a little harder. âwanna fuck you so good you forget every guy before me.â
you whimper, thighs wrapping around his waist. âyou already did.â
that breaks something in him.
he growls low in his throat and starts pounding into you, the soft start giving way to pure, feral want. he shifts your legs higher, hits deeper, and suddenly youâre clawing at his back, gasping his name like a prayer.
âmine,â he growls. âyouâre mine now.â
âyours,â you sob, head falling back. âiâm yours.â
he sets a punishing pace, the bed creaking under the force of his powerful thrusts. you can only hold on for dear life, nails digging into his flexing biceps as he pounds into you mercilessly. pleasure builds in your core with each drive of his hips.
his hand slides between your bodies, thumb finding your clit, rubbing harsh circles that send sparks through your spine. your whole body tightens.
ââgumiâfuckâiâm gonnaââ
âi know,â he grits, never letting up. âgive it to me, baby. wanna feel you fall apart around me.â
you shudder.
"i want you to cum inside me," you plead, spreading your thighs wider in clear invitation. "i want to feel you fill me up, âgumi. please."
his jaw clenches as he battles with himself for a moment before finally giving in with a strangled curse. it only takes a few more thrusts before he's coming undone.
"fuck, yes," he groans, hips stuttering as he floods your depths with his hot seed. you clench around him, milking every last drop as your own orgasm crashes through you.
you both slump into a sweaty pile, tangled limbs and ragged breaths filling the quiet room. megumiâs fingers trace lazy circles on your back, warm and steady, as he presses a soft kiss to your templeâhis lips feather-light against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
âyou okay?â megumi murmurs against your skin.
you stay quiet, too out of it, your skin still tingling where his hands roamed, thighs sticky and trembling, breath coming shallow and uneven.
âshit, i knew it. i went too farâfuck,â he rushes, sitting up, searching your face for any sign he messed up.
slowly, you turn to him, sore but smiling, eyes shiny with unshed tears, lips swollen and gloss-smudged. you meet his panicked gaze.
âiâm good,â you whisper, voice raw but sure. âreally, iâm more than good.â
he exhales shaky, collapsing back against you, nuzzling your neck, lips brushing over his mark. âfuck, you scared me,â he murmurs.
you pull him down beneath the sheets, arms wrapping his neck. he follows, head on your chest, breath warm and heart still racing.
âyou know,â megumi says softly after a moment, âwhen i said iâve wanted this forever, i meant all of itâthe nice, quiet parts, too. just holding you like this.â
you laugh, slipping a leg over his waist, skin sticky and warm, pulling him impossibly close. the humid night air clings to you both, mixing with the faint scent of sweat and his cologne. âwell, youâve got me now. heads upâiâm kind of addicted to cuddles.â
megumi smiles, that soft, goofy grin that makes your heart flutter, the warmth of his chest rising and falling under your hand. âthat sounds perfect.â
before sleep sweeps over you both, you add with a teasing smirk, ânot bad for a rookie.â
he freezes, blinking up at you. you grin.
ârookie?â
you shrug, biting your lip like youâre holding back a laugh. âcute, a little clumsy, but with a whole lot of fire. lots of potential.â
his jaw drops a littleâyou catch the twitch in his eye.
âyouâre messing with me.â
you sit up a little, brushing your fingers through his tangled hair, cool against his warm skin. âbaby,â you tease, voice soft and playful, âremember, iâm older and wiser.â
he blinks again, still dazed.
you lean close, breath ghosting over his ear, warm and sweet.
âand just wait. tomorrow, iâm gonna show you what youâve been missing out on.â
megumiâs eyes go wide, stunned and utterly captivatedâas if you just handed him the keys to heaven.
you giggle, pressing a kiss to his forehead, snuggling deeper into his heat and the soft rustle of the sheets around you.
choso kamo is the kind of boy people notice without realizing theyâre staring. heâs not loud, never one to demand a roomâs attention, but something about him pulls you in, the lazy grace of someone whoâs always just a little bit stoned and completely at peace with himself.
he throws the best parties on campus, the kind that arenât just about getting drunk or high, but about the vibe. incense burning in the corner, led lights set to red or purple, trap playing softly over speakers. and yet, youâre the only one who really knows him.
you, the sweet girl who never misses a single one of his parties. the one always curled up next to him on the couch with a red solo cup of something you can barely taste, your legs draped over his lap, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. itâs always been like this. ever since freshman year, when you met him during that stupid icebreaker event on campus that neither of you wanted to go to.
somehow, youâd ended up next to him. not even talking at first. just being. and then heâd pulled one earbud out and offered it to you without saying anything, and youâd heard frank oceanâs âivyâ playing soft and crackly from his phone. youâd smiled at him, and heâd smiled back. just a little.
after that, it was like something clicked. you didnât have to try with choso. you just existed in each otherâs space like you were meant to.
youâre sweet, outgoing, a little flirty, always the first one to compliment someoneâs outfit or remember their birthday. people love you for your light, your laughter, the way you make everyone feel seen.
but when it comes to closeness, to real comfort? thatâs reserved for choso.
itâs a mystery to most people. you, the glittering, glowing party girl, and choso, the stoner boy who doesnât even have social media. but it makes perfect sense to anyone whoâs seen the two of you together.
you show up to his parties before anyone else does. you help him string the lights, pick the playlist, bring snacks no one asked for but everyone eats. youâre the one sitting on the counter while he rolls, sipping from a straw and babbling about your week while he nods, smiling faintly, muttering things like âthatâs wild, ma,â or âyo, youâre too nice for them.â
and during the parties, youâre never far. you gravitate toward each other like magnets, slipping into place the way you always do. chosoâs usually on the couch, arms stretched over the backrest, and youâre tucked under his arm without even thinking. you lean into him when you laugh. he rests his chin on your shoulder. he passes you drinks and you take tiny sips before handing them back to him with a wrinkle of your nose.
and itâs so easy. dangerously easy.
chosoâs never been one to push. heâs got feelings, real ones, deeper than heâll ever admit out loud, but he keeps them buried. not because he doesnât want you. he wants you in a way that scares him sometimes. in quiet moments, when heâs too high and youâre asleep on his chest, he thinks about what it would feel like to kiss you. to be yours for real. but heâs content, at least for now. content to have you like this.
you give choso a kind of peace he didnât know he was missing. before you, things were kind of blurry. background noise. but with you, itâs all color. you laugh and the whole room tilts toward you. you touch his hand and itâs like static electricity under his skin. he pretends he doesnât notice. he jokes, he teases, he lets it pass.
because he thinks heâd rather have you like this, close and real and warm, than risk losing you completely.
and you? you love him. maybe too much.
youâve never said it out loud, not even to maki or shoko, but you know it. you feel it every time you see him laugh at something you said, every time he lifts your chin to tuck your hair behind your ear, every time he waits for you outside class just because he felt like it. choso is yours, in a way no one else is. and you donât know what to do with that.
maybe youâre scared to ruin it too.
itâs not just the friendship, itâs the rhythm. the quiet glances, the shared playlists, the way you always, always end up in his bed after parties, clothes still on, hearts too full.
youâll lay there in the dark, both of you wide awake, and youâll wonder if he feels it too. if he notices the way your breath hitches when his fingers brush your waist. if he hears the way your voice gets softer when you say his name.
but neither of you ever says anything. not really. not yet.
thereâs something unsaid between you, always has been, something glowing and soft and maybe a little fragile. like the chords of âivyâ hanging in the air, too tender to touch. itâs in the way he looks at you when youâre not watching. in the way you linger at his door after a party, lip gloss smudged and heart aching. in the way he lets his hand rest on the small of your back just a little too long.
itâs a love thatâs still blooming. hesitant. deep-rooted. and for now, maybe thatâs enough.
maybe not forever.
~
the partyâs already full by the time you get there, but you know exactly where to find him.
bass thumps through the floor like a second pulse, red lights spilling down the hallway, laughter echoing from the kitchen where someoneâs poured jungle juice into a mixing bowl. bodies press close in the living room, the air thick with smoke, perfume, sweat, but none of it touches you. not really. not when you know where youâre going.
you slip past people who call your name, who compliment your outfit, who try to keep you still, but youâre already moving, already smiling like youâve got a secret. because you do.
heâs on the couch. he always is.
slouched like he was poured there, long legs spread, a blunt pinched between his fingers. thereâs a few people around him, suguruâs sitting on the floor, half-asleep against his knee, gojoâs perched on the armrest talking to some girl, but he doesnât really look at anyone. just stares at the smoke curling above him, the red light making shadows under his eyes.
until he sees you.
chosoâs head tilts slightly. his gaze sharpens, just barely. his mouth softens, corners curling up into something small, lazy, private.
âyo,â he says, voice low and smooth like honeyed smoke. âthere you are.â
and just like that, youâre home.
you drop down next to him without a word, tucking your legs up on the couch, leaning into his side like you were made to fit there. his arm lifts automatically to rest behind you, and your bare shoulder brushes against his chest, skin to skin. he smells like weed and citrus and something warm, like sunbaked cotton. familiar. dangerous.
âi brought you chips,â you say, holding up a bag. âbecause you never remember to feed people when you throw these things.â
he laughs, soft and breathy, and takes the bag, tossing it onto the table without looking.
âyouâre the only one who eats at my parties,â he murmurs, dragging the blunt to his lips. âtheyâre lucky you show up.â
he inhales, slow and deep. lets it sit in his chest for a moment. then he turns his head toward you and exhales, deliberately, slow, a trail of smoke that ghosts over your collarbone. itâs not on purpose, but it is. everything choso does is like that. unbothered. intimate. effortless.
your heart stutters.
âyou look good,â he adds, like it just occurred to him. his eyes dip, trace your legs, the cut of your dress, the gloss on your lips. âreal good.â
you smile, sweet and slow, like youâre soaking it in.
âyouâre stoned.â
he shrugs. âyeah. still true, though.â
you nudge his thigh with your knee, and he smirks that lazy, barely-there grin that never quite reaches his eyes unless itâs you.
the party swells around you. bodies dance in the center of the room, the music gets louder, someoneâs yelling in the kitchen about the beer pong table. but in your little corner of the couch, everything is slowed down. hazy. sacred.
he keeps passing the blunt, and you keep refusing with that little scrunch of your nose he always teases you about.
âdonât know how you come to my house every week and still donât smoke,â he says, flicking ash into a red solo cup.
âdonât know how you survive without eating dinner like an adult,â you shoot back.
he chuckles, tipping his head back. his throat stretches long, his hoodie slipping off one shoulder to reveal the black ink of a tattoo just under his collarbone. you donât even pretend not to look. choso doesnât pretend not to notice.
âyou missed me?â he asks after a beat, quieter now. the smokeâs made him slow, softer around the edges. more honest.
you glance up at him, lips parted. âi was here last weekend.â
âyeah, and then the whole week happened.â he shrugs, lazily. âi got bored.â
you nudge your way closer. your knee slides between his. âyou say that like you donât have other friends.â
he hums. âdonât hit the same.â
youâre both quiet for a second. itâs a thick, heady silence, not awkward, not tense. just full. full of everything thatâs been building since freshman year. everything you donât say. everything you both feel in moments like this, when youâre a little too close and heâs looking at your mouth and his hand is resting just a little too low on your waist.
you want to kiss him. god, you do. but not yet. not here.
so instead you lean forward, just enough to rest your head on his shoulder. you feel him go still for a second, then relax, melting back into you.
you stay like that. for a long time
later, when the house gets louder and hotter and someone pulls you up to dance, you feel his eyes on you.
youâre not a wild dancer, you move like youâre in your own little world, fluid and soft and smiling. some guy tries to grind up behind you and you immediately peel away, laughing as you shake your head. but when you look over, just once, you see choso watching from the couch.
his eyes are darker now. still lazy, still half-lidded, but focused. pinned on you like heâs memorizing the way your dress moves, the way your hair sticks to the sweat on your collarbone. one hand resting on his knee. the blunt long gone.
you move back to him eventually, of course you do, and he opens the space beside him again like he knew you would.
âhave fun out there, superstar?â he asks, gaze flicking over you.
you shrug, settling back into him. âmissed my favorite dance partner.â
he raises a brow. âyou donât dance with me.â
you grin. âexactly.â
he snorts, shaking his head. you rest your hand on his thigh, fingers splayed over ripped denim, and he doesnât flinch. doesnât move. just lets you stay there. touching him. like you always do.
like you always will.
when the party starts dying down and the lights dim even lower, when suguruâs asleep and gojoâs disappeared and the couch is just the two of you again, you curl into him like you belong there.
he yawns, one arm around your shoulders, hand playing lazily with the strap of your dress.
âyou crashing here?â he asks, already knowing the answer.
you nod, cheek pressed to his chest. âif thatâs cool.â
he makes a soft sound, something between a hum and a laugh, and dips his chin to brush his mouth against your temple. not a kiss, exactly. just a press. warm, soft. barely there.
âalways.â
you smile, closing your eyes for a second. his hand is still resting on your waist, fingers tracing absent little shapes into your skin like heâs not even thinking about it.
you could fall asleep like this. youâve done it before.
but he shifts a little, murmurs, âcome on, ma. letâs get off this fuckinâ couch. my backâs killinâ me.â
you whine quietly as he moves, and he laughs again, a lazy rumble in his chest and slides an arm around your waist to help you up.
âdrama queen,â he says, tugging you to your feet with effortless strength.
he doesnât let go.
you move through the sea of red cups and leftover smoke, past the people half-passed out in the hallway, with his hand still slung around your waist. like itâs normal. like itâs instinct. your arm hooks around his middle, and you lean into his side as you walk, slow and steady, like youâve done this a hundred times. because you have.
chosoâs room is down the hall. itâs the only one with a broken doorknob and a blacklight taped above the bed, buzzing faintly. it smells like weed and clean laundry and him.
you kick off your shoes the second you walk in and collapse face-first into the unmade bed, limbs spread.
he laughs, low and indulgent, then flops down beside you.
âyo, scoot over,â he mumbles, nudgin your hip with his.
âyou scoot,â you shoot back, voice muffled by the blanket.
he doesnât argue. just lets his body melt sideways until your shoulders touch again. you shift your head onto his chest without thinking, cheek to the soft fabric of his hoodie.
and there it is again. home.
âthis party was kinda ass,â you say.
ânah,â he says softly. âyou were here.â
your stomach flips.
but you donât say anything. donât need to. you just lie there, breathing in sync, your hands curled in the hem of his hoodie while his fingers play with your hair, slow, lazy twirls that make your eyelids flutter.
âremember the first one?â you ask, voice hushed now. âthe freshman-year party where we met?â
choso smiles at the ceiling. âfuck yeah. you were wearing that little white dress and yellinâ at some guy who spilled beer on your shoes.â
âhe ruined them,â you murmur indignantly.
âand i was just sittinâ on the porch, watchinâ the whole thing,â he grins. âhigh as shit. thought you were hot as hell.â
you lift your head to look at him, one brow raised. âyou still say you donât remember how we ended up talking.â
âi donât. swear to god.â he shrugs. âone second iâm finishing a blunt, next thing i know youâre sitting next to me like youâd been there forever.â
âi probably just decided you looked safe,â you say, settling back down. âand hot. but, like, quiet hot.â
he chuckles, slow and low. âquiet hot?â
you nod. âlike⊠hot in a way that doesnât try. like you didnât even know it.â
âdamn,â he mutters. âflirting with me now?â
âalways.â
his hand slides down from your hair to your shoulder, warm and broad and steady.
âthatâs why i fuck with you,â he says after a moment. âyouâre real.â
you blink.
âlike, people show up to my parties for the vibes or whatever. you show up to make sure i eat dinner.â
you laugh. âwell someone has to.â
ânah, but for real,â he says. âyouâve been showinâ up since day one. always got my back. always know what i need before i even do. shitâs crazy.â
your throat goes tight. but he doesnât sound emotional. he sounds calm. sure. like itâs just a fact of life, gravity, weed, you.
he doesnât say it like itâs a confession.
he says it like itâs just the truth.
âyou do the same for me,â you murmur, voice small.
his thumb strokes your arm, slow.
âyeah,â he says. âi know.â
the room hums with silence after that. not heavy. not awkward. just real.
he lets you lie there on his chest, the beat of his heart under your ear, the rise and fall of his breathing making you feel safe in a way nothing else does.
you shift after a few minutes, and his hand moves automatically , tugs the blanket up over you both, settles you closer, fingers smoothing over your arm like itâs second nature.
he doesnât flirt with anyone the way he does with you. doesnât touch anyone like this. people know youâre close, but they donât get it.
they donât know how choso listens to you rant for hours about your classes even when heâs half-asleep. how he always keeps snacks in his room he doesnât like, just because you do. how heâs seen you cry at 3am and didnât say a word, just pulled you onto his chest and played with your hair until you calmed down.
how youâve cleaned up after every party. how you always know when he needs water. how you never smoke but you always light his blunts for him.
they donât know that youâve been doing this, just like this, since freshman year.
youâre not together.
but this? this is something else.
âyou good?â he mumbles, his voice starting to get gravelly with sleep.
you nod, curled into his side.
âyou?â
âmhmm.â he exhales through his nose, deep and slow. âdonât leave before i wake up.â
âi never do.â
he hums, already drifting.
you close your eyes.
"night, cho."
"night, babe."
and in the dark, in his bed, wrapped in the quiet warmth of chosoâs heartbeat and the hush of something unspoken between you, you fall asleep.
right where youâre supposed to be.
~
the sunâs too fucking bright.
chosoâs got his hood pulled low, hands stuffed in the front pocket of his faded sweatshirt, hoodie sleeves bunched at his wrists like armor against the cold. his airpods are in, but heâs not playing anything. just using them to avoid eye contact. to avoid people.
his chem lecture starts in twelve minutes. heâs not rushing.
heâs never rushing.
the quadâs half-full with undergrads moving in packs, laughing too loud for this hour. he weaves through them like a shadow, dark-eyed and slow-moving, sleep still clinging to his bones.
he hasnât showered. hasnât brushed his hair. smells faintly like weed and sleep and your lotion, the floral kind you always keep in your bag.
heâs halfway across the quad when he hears it.
âyo.â
he looks up.
toji.
posted up on a low wall near the main staircase, nursing a large iced coffee and wearing the same zip-up heâs worn every morning since choso met him. he looks good, like he always does, jaw sharp, eyes tired, posture loose in that older-guy way that makes people think twice about messing with him.
choso pulls out one airpod. âyo.â
âyou look like shit,â toji says, amused.
choso shrugs. âfeel fine.â
âlate night?â
âalways.â
toji grins. âbet.â
choso wanders over, boots crunching gravel, and leans against the wall next to him. tojiâs got that lazy menace vibe, like he could break someoneâs nose or fall asleep in the sun, it could go either way. choso respects it.
theyâre not close, but theyâre good.
âyou throw last night?â toji asks.
âyeah. packed out.â
âheard. saw some dude getting dragged out by the neck around one.â
choso huffs a little. âsukuna. again.â
âno shit?â toji laughs. âthat guyâs a walking lawsuit.â
âgot blood on my stairs,â choso mutters. âruined the rug.â
âtragic.â
theyâre quiet for a second. choso watches a squirrel dart across the walkway. toji sips his coffee.
âhow much you make off the door?â
âcouple hundred. enough for groceries. gas. weed.â
toji nods like thatâs the natural order of things. âyou ever think about pledging?â
choso snorts. ânah.â
âyouâd run that shit,â toji says. âturn those little rich boys inside out.â
âiâm not good with rules.â
âfuck rules.â
choso grins a little. âyou sound like yuki.â
âi taught yuki,â toji says, deadpan.
that gets a real laugh out of choso, low and amused, breath curling in the cold air.
âyou got chem?â toji asks after a moment.
âyeah. lab.â
âtough.â
âi'm so fucking hungover.â
toji smirks. âso. last night. you go home alone?â
choso shrugs. ânah. crashed with her.â
toji looks at him. not surprised. not shocked. just curious.
ây/n?â
âyeah.â
a beat.
âyou guys together now or what?â
choso looks up, brows drawn. ânah.â
toji raises an eyebrow. âhuh. figured that wouldâve happened by now.â
âwhy?â
âyouâre always with her.â
âyeah.â
âyou sleep in the same bed?â
choso shrugs again, easy and lowkey like it doesnât mean anything. like itâs normal. âall the time.â
toji whistles under his breath, grinning. âyouâre a better man than me.â
ânot like that,â choso mutters, looking away.
âright,â toji says, smirking. ânot like that.â
choso stays quiet. doesnât explain. doesnât elaborate. he just lets it sit in the air between them like secondhand smoke, warm, familiar, a little dangerous.
because it isnât like that.
not yet.
but toji doesnât push. just nods, takes another slow sip of his coffee, and claps choso on the shoulder with a rough hand.
âyouâre cool,â he says. âbut if you ever fuck that up, someone else wonât be.â
choso just exhales through his nose. shrugs.
he knows.
he knows.
~
choso slouches in his stool at station 4B, safety goggles pushed up into his messy hair, long fingers lazily rotating a test tube over the bunsen flame. heâs supposed to be running a titration, but heâs running on three hours of sleep and an edible that hasnât stopped hitting since breakfast.
thereâs a small chemical fire happening at the next table over. he doesnât care.
his partner, some girl from his gen chem section who only speaks in whispers and perfume, scribbles answers onto their worksheet like her life depends on it. sheâs never once asked him to help. chosoâs fine with that.
his phone buzzes in his hoodie pocket. he pulls it out without looking, thumb unlocking the screen by feel. itâs instinct. the way he always knows when itâs you.
[10:37am] you: what class r u in rn
[10:38am] choso: chem
[10:38am] you: ew
[10:38am] choso: yea
[10:39am] you: wanna meet up after?? iâm bored
[10:39am] choso: wya
the response comes fast.
[10:40am] you: bleachers behind the field. bring snacks or iâll cry.
choso smiles.
itâs the kind of smile he never shows anyone but you. lazy. lowkey. like a secret he doesnât need to say out loud.
he texts back a thumbs up emoji. tucks his phone away. watches the blue flame flicker under the test tube like itâs trying to tell him something.
~
the bleachers behind the athletic field are barely standing. rusted metal, cracked paint, half the steps warped from years of cleat-stomped abuse. itâs one of the only spots on campus that still feels untouched, still feels yours. people donât hang out here. itâs too open, too weird, too quiet.
perfect.
youâre already there when he shows up, sprawled across the middle row like itâs a chaise lounge, sunglasses perched low on your nose and a bag of kettle chips open in your lap.
you perk up when you see him. smile wide and lazy. âyou brought me snacks?â
he lifts a 7/11 bag in greeting.
âyouâre an angel,â you say, and you sound like you mean it. choso climbs up beside you, drops the bag between you, and sits with a long sigh like the weight of the whole morning finally got the memo that it can fuck off.
he lets himself lean back on his elbows, head tipped toward the sky. hoodie sleeves pushed up to the elbow. hands ringed in silver, knuckles faintly bruised from last night. jaw sharp, neck tattoo peeking just above his collar.
you glance over at him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth for a second too long.
he doesnât notice.
or maybe he does.
but he doesnât say anything.
âwhat happened in chem?â you ask, voice slow with sunlight.
âalmost set the bench on fire,â he says. âagain."
you laugh, and itâs the good kind, low and warm and familiar, like something soft you wrap yourself in. âyouâre gonna fail.â
ânah,â he murmurs. âi got you. youâll cry to shoko for me.â
you shrug. âprobably.â
he grins.
you eat chips together for a while in comfortable silence. people jog past on the track below, but itâs like the two of you exist in another timeline, quieter, slower, deeper. every time your shoulders bump, he doesnât move away. every time your fingers brush in the snack bag, he lets it linger.
you pull out a cherry lollipop from your tote. unwrap it with delicate, distracted fingers. stick it between your lips and suck thoughtfully.
choso looks over. blinks once.
his throat bobs. âyou eat candy like youâre in a music video.â
âduh,â you say. âgotta stay on brand.â
âyour brand is slutty candy princess?â
you flash him a wink. âyou know it.â
he groans into his hands. âyouâre gonna kill me.â
âyouâd like it.â
âmaybe.â
you both laugh.
but underneath it, thereâs a tension you donât touch. not yet. not today. not when the sun is this warm and the wind is this soft and the space between you feels like a bubble no one else can pop.
âso whatâd you tell toji?â you ask suddenly, pulling your legs up under you. âhe asked about us, right?â
choso blinks. shifts.
âhowâd you know that?â
âi just saw him talking to you this morning and you rushed of before i could catch up.â
he sighs. rubs a hand over his face. âjust asked about some dumb shit, was surprised we aren't fucking.â
âoh yeah?â
âyeah.â
you hum. âwhatâd you say?â
he shrugs. âtold him weâre just friends.â
you nod.
but your fingers are tight around your lollipop stick. âdid he buy it?â
choso looks over at you. eyes half-lidded, lazy. âdunno. didnât really care.â
you donât speak for a second.
thenâ
âyou know,â you say lightly, âif we were dating, people wouldnât question it.â
he raises a brow. âyou wanna date me?â
you laugh like itâs a joke. like the ideaâs crazy. âobviously not. iâd ruin your whole vibe.â
ânah,â he says, quiet and cool. âyou are my vibe.â
it knocks the air out of you a little.
you donât reply.
he doesnât push.
instead, he pulls a lighter from his pocket. a faded red bic with a sticker of a cartoon frog on the side.
âyou mind?â he asks.
you shake your head. âgo for it.â
he lights the joint behind the bleachers, careful to block the wind, and takes a slow hit like heâs been doing it his whole life. like breathing.
you watch the way his lips part. the way the smoke curls from his mouth. the way he blinks up at the sky, exhaling slow, like thereâs nothing in the world that could ruin this moment.
he passes it to you.
you hold it between two fingers. bring it to your lips, but donât inhale. you just like the closeness. the ritual. the rhythm of it.
âyou always smell like weed and coconuts,â you say absently.
âyou always smell like sleep and candy.â
âthat a compliment?â
âyou know it is.â
you smile.
and then, like always, you shift until your head is in his lap, knees bent, lollipop back between your lips.
he threads his fingers into your hair like itâs automatic. like muscle memory.
you donât say anything.
you donât have to.
âthereâs a party saturday,â choso says, like itâs just a passing thought. his voice is mellow, dragged slow with smoke and sun.
you squint up at him from his lap, one leg kicking idly off the edge of the bleachers. âyours?â
he shakes his head, dragging another pull from the joint before it sizzles low. ânah. kappaâs.â
âtojiâs place?â
âmhm. sukunaâs throwinâ it.â
you make a face. âew.â
he laughs, lazy and low. âyeah, i know.â
âwhat kinda party is it?â
he shrugs, flicking ash off to the side. âdunno. probly loud. messy. overrun with freshmen.â
âmy favorite,â you say sarcastically.
âcome anyway.â
you raise a brow. âyou want me to go?â
he nods, eyes still soft from the joint. âyeah. all our people are gonna be there. gojoâs bringing that speaker he stole from the rec center. suguruâs bringing weed from the plug that scares everyone but him. shoko said sheâs pre-gaming at yours.â
âshe didnât tell me that,â you mutter, amused.
âshe said quote, âiâm getting blackout on your floor so you better have mixers.ââ
âclassic.â
âmakiâs going too,â he adds. âand yuuji. megumi. nobara. yâall can take over the kitchen or whatever.â
you snort. âwe always end up doing that. turning some random frat kitchen into our private lounge.â
âbetter lighting.â
âless vomit.â
he taps his knuckle to your forehead. âso?â
you blink at him. âso what?â
âyou cominâ?â
you stretch your arms over your head, lollipop tucked in your cheek like a secret. âmmm, depends. whoâs walking me home if i black out?â
he gives you a look. âme."
âwhoâs holding my hair if i puke?â
âme.â
âwhoâs dancing with me when they put on early 2000s throwbacks?â
he smirks. âyou already know.â
you grin and nuzzle into his thigh dramatically. âugh, fine. i guess iâll go.â
âwhat an honor.â
âyouâre welcome.â
he flicks the roach away and leans back again, hood falling down to rest at the nape of his neck. you stare up at him for a second, at the sharp angle of his jaw, the lashes curled against his cheeks, the faint bruises of exhaustion under his eyes.
thereâs something warm in your chest.
like always.
âwhat timeâs it at?â you ask.
âlate.â
âwhen are we getting there?â
âlater.â
you smile. âas always.â
âas always,â he echoes.
you reach over, fingers brushing the side of his hoodie pocket where his lighter peeks out, red and fading, sticker peeling at the edges.
he doesnât notice.
but you do.
you always do.
~
the sun has long since set when youâre back in your dorm.
shokoâs stuff is already half-scattered across your bed, a tote bag overflowing with lip gloss and tequila, her ripped denim skirt folded beside your pillow like it lives here. your bluetooth speaker is charging in the corner. your fairy lights are glowing dim, and the whole room smells like something between vanilla lotion and sharpie markers.
because youâre painting.
your desk is a mess of scattered brushes, scratched acrylics, and an empty matcha can youâve been using as a water cup. right in the center sits the new bic lighter you picked up after social, jet black, perfectly smooth, untouched.
youâre painting red spider lilies across the front, his favourite.
the petals curl across the plastic like veins, wet with gloss and attention. youâre careful with the details. youâve looked up references. youâve done this before.
but this timeâs different.
this oneâs for him.
you donât know why, exactly. maybe itâs because his old oneâs going dead.
maybe itâs because you love him.
not like that.
not yet.
but in the way you know exactly how he likes his ramen. in the way he texts you âhome?â when itâs late and doesnât sleep until you answer. in the way he rolls his blunts left-handed and always lights yours first. in the way he remembers your momâs birthday even though heâs never met her.
in the way he makes you feel safe in a room full of noise.
in the way he never tries to make you anything other than yourself.
you lean over the lighter, the brush held steady between your fingers, and add the final line of gold detailing around the petals. your breath fogs the surface. you wait for it to dry.
outside, someone blasts a bad edm remix. the partyâs already pulsing down the block.
you arenât ready yet.
but you will be.
because he asked.
because you always go when he asks.
by the time you and shoko step into the kappa house, itâs already hell in there.
thereâs music vibrating the walls, some mashup of jersey club and distorted britney spears, smoke curling from doorways, the reek of beer and weed and something you hope is a vape cloud drifting from the stairs. someoneâs already swinging a half-finished bottle of patrĂłn in the foyer, and a guy in a spiked collar is passed out half-naked on the pool table. red LEDs paint the room like a warning.
âjesus,â shoko mutters, pushing through a knot of people. âitâs worse than last time.â
âthatâs saying a lot,â you reply, laughing.
you pass a makeshift tattoo station set up in the kitchen, a foldable table, three guys with gloves and prison-grade guns, girls taking shots with their shirts off, someone yelling about cross-contamination. someone else is already screaming into a paper towel, gripping their friendâs thigh as ink bleeds into skin.
âhow much you wanna bet that guyâs not even licensed?â shoko asks, pointing with her cup.
a few feet away, a couple is practically devouring each other on the couch, hands in places that definitely shouldnât be public, their moans barely muffled over the bassline. you and shoko share a glance.
âten bucks says theyâll be upstairs in five,â she says.
âtwo,â you shoot back.
you find the rest of your girls near the island, makiâs drinking straight from a bottle of dark rum, nobaraâs yelling at some guy for calling her âsweetheart,â and miwa looks like sheâs trying to spiritually leave her body.
âthere you bitches are,â nobara says, throwing an arm over your shoulders. âi was gonna beat some freshmanâs ass for trying to say you werenât on the guest list.â
âi just got here!â you laugh, letting shoko pull you in tighter. âi havenât even taken my jacket off!"
âwell hurry up,â nobara insists, pouring something violently pink into a solo cup and handing it to you. âthis nightâs cursed already.â
you take a cautious sip, bubblegum and battery acid. âwhat the hell is this?â
âitâs called the thong dropper,â shoko says helpfully.
âgirl.â
you let the chaos swirl around you for a bit, settling into the rhythm of things, catching up on nonsense, swapping wild stories, dodging spilled drinks and clumsy hands. nobara starts talking about some guy she hooked up with last week, rolling her eyes and groaning dramatically.
âhis stroke game was so weak,â she says, slamming her cup down. âhe kept asking me âis that good?â likeâcmon. do you not hear me faking it?â
maki snorts. âyou faked it?â
âof course i did. i had to get it over with.â
shoko leans in. ârookie mistake. just tell âem straight up.â
âi canât crush a manâs ego like that,â nobara defends.
âtheyâll live,â maki says.
you giggle into your drink, letting the warmth buzz up your spine.
âwhat about you?â shoko nudges. âyou getting any lately?â
you shrug, trying to hide your smirk. âdefine âgetting.ââ
they all ooh at that, but you wave them off.
ânah,â you add quickly. âjust been⊠chillinâ.â
nobara raises a brow. âchillinâ with who?â
you donât answer.
you donât have to.
because you just spotted him.
across the room, slouched low on the ratty couch like a king on a broken throne, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, blunt glowing between his fingers, is choso.
heâs got his head tipped back, laughing at something gojo just said, eyes heavy-lidded and hazy, lips pink and glossy from smoke. his legs are spread wide, rings catching the LED lights, and thereâs a plastic crown crooked on his head like someone dared him to wear it and he just went along with it.
you hand your cup to shoko. âback in a sec.â
you beeline straight to him.
he sees you coming, of course. always does.
âyo,â he says, voice syrup-thick, laced in that lazy drawl you know too well. âthere she is.â
you plop onto the couch next to him, thigh pressed to his instantly, as natural as breathing.
âhey, babe.â
he pulls the blunt from his lips and passes it to gojo. âyou look hot,â he murmurs, eyes scanning over you. âlike⊠stupid hot.â
you grin. âyouâre high.â
âand youâre hot.â
âso high.â
gojo chuckles. âheâs been saying that about everyone for the last twenty minutes. told sukuna his chains looked âshiny as fuckâ and that he was proud of him.â
âand i meant it,â choso says, nodding solemnly.
âsukunas a menace,â you laugh.
âa sweet menace,â choso adds.
gojo tosses the blunt into an ashtray and stretches. âaight. iâm gonna go find the aux before someone puts on country again.â
âgodspeed,â you tell him.
choso watches him disappear into the crowd before turning back to you. âyou good?â
you nod. âgirls are wild tonight.â
âwhen arenât they?â
you smile. âpartyâs kinda gross, though.â
he grins. âyeah. itâs ass.â
âi missed your parties.â
he hums, dragging a slow breath through his nose. ânext week. tuesday.â
âa tuesday party?â
âhell yeah.â
you laugh softly, eyes dropping to the front pocket of his hoodie. his lighterâs there again, the red one. the same one from earlier, edges worn down like itâs been used a thousand times.
without saying anything, you reach into your jacket pocket.
he watches you curiously as you pull out the lighter you painted, black and glossy, the spider lilies blooming across the surface in blood-red ink and gold veins.
you hand it to him wordlessly.
his fingers brush yours as he takes it, and something in his face shifts, softens, quiets.
he turns it over slowly in his palm, eyes scanning every detail like heâs memorizing it.
âyou painted this?â
you nod.
âmaâŠâ he says under his breath, almost like itâs too much. âyo. this is⊠this is fucking beautiful.â
âyour other oneâs dying,â you say, a little shy now. âfigured you needed a new one.â
heâs quiet for a second, blinking slowly.
thenâ
âyouâre such a fuckinâ angel.â
you laugh. âitâs literally just a lighter.â
he doesnât let his gaze leave it. ânah. itâs you.â
you blink.
he says it so casually. so high. so him.
like itâs just a fact.
you donât say anything, and neither does he. the music swells. the lights flicker. people scream and laugh and break things somewhere in the background.
but right now, itâs just the two of you, and a lighter between your palms.
âyouâre gonna make me cry,â you joke, even though the way he keeps looking at the lighter makes your chest feel a little too full.
choso doesnât answer, just keeps running his thumb over the curves of it like itâs some delicate artifact, black with the glossy gleam of fresh paint, those red lilies blooming across the surface like blood in water.
he flicks it once. flame bursts up.
âperfect,â he mumbles.
âit works?â
âbetter than my soul, babe.â
you laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder, and for a few seconds everything around you falls away, just the throb of the music, the warm press of him, and the soft flicker of that tiny orange flame between his fingers.
you sit like that for a little while, talking about nothing. him complaining about a group project he hasnât started. you teasing him for skipping chem lab again. him promising you some ânext-level weedâ for tuesdayâs party that âtastes like peaches and existential dread.â
his voice is slow, syrup-thick, a little slurred at the ends. heâs stoned, clearly, but youâre used to this. used to the way he leans into you when heâs like this, heavy and unguarded, every thought coming out a little slower and more unfiltered. itâs a version of him that doesnât get tired of looking at you.
he tugs at the hem of your jacket playfully. âyou gonna stay with me tonight?â
you raise a brow. âdidnât plan on going anywhere else.â
he grins, that sleepy smile that makes your heart tick funny.
then your name cuts through the room, pitched over the music.
âoh shit,â you say, glancing over your shoulder. âtheyâre calling me.â
choso hums, not looking away. âtell âem i said hi.â
you hesitate for a second, not wanting to leave the warm bubble youâve curled into. but shokoâs waving you over, and makiâs already halfway across the room with a bottle in her hand and trouble in her eyes.
âiâll be back,â you say, giving his knee a squeeze as you get up.
he watches you go, eyes dragging over your silhouette, that sway in your hips, the flash of your smile as nobara yells something at you that makes you laugh and flip her off in the same breath.
then heâs alone.
not really, the house is packed, pulsing with bodies and music and smoke, but alone in the way that matters.
the lighterâs still in his hand.
and it wonât stop looking like you.
'she fuckinâ made this.'
that thought loops through his head in lazy spirals. he stares down at it like heâs still not fully processing that itâs his now, the way it fits so perfect in his palm, like you painted it with him in mind, like you know his hands that well.
(which you do.)
'what an angel', he thinks again, your face still ghosted in his mind.
heâs high. so high. his body feels like a heartbeat, slow and deep and pulsing warm. and the lighter, it keeps dragging him back to that moment on the couch, your thigh against his, your fingers brushing his, your quiet little smile when he lit it up for the first time.
'she always does shit like this. just makes stuff better. without even tryinâ.'
it hits him all at once, sudden and full-body.
he needs to mark this. this moment. this feeling.
heâs already pulling out his phone before the thoughtâs even fully formed, scrolling through the camera roll he swore he didnât care about but secretly checks too often. blurry candids, selfies with you curled against his chest, that pic from two weeks ago when you were looking up at him from the floor of his room with a red gummy in your mouth and sleep in your eyes.
he pauses there.
your eyes in that picture. big, soft, glassy, sexy.
his thumb hovers over the screen.
âyo,â a familiar voice calls, sauntering through the haze. âyou look fried.â
sukuna.
choso glances up. âam fried.â
sukuna grins. âfigured. that couch is cursed, by the way. guy got a blowie on it last week during pong night.â
choso shrugs. âadds flavor.â
they lean on the wall together, easy silence for a second.
âyou see the tat guys?â sukuna asks, chin-jerking toward the kitchen. âsomeone just got a fucking worm on their calf. like a literal earthworm. said it was âsymbolic.ââ
choso laughs, low and thick. âsymbolic of what?â
âdunno. being dirt, i guess.â
he doesnât respond. just looks back at his phone.
sukuna raises a brow. âyou good, dude?â
âyeah.â
âyou look like you just had a vision.â
choso finally meets his eye.
âyo,â he says slowly. âyou ever just feel something and know you gotta do somethinâ about it right now or youâll bitch out?â
sukuna squints. âuh. like what?â
choso doesnât answer.
instead, he pushes off the wall, hoodie slipping off one shoulder again, lighter still clutched in one hand, phone in the other, and starts walking.
sukuna watches him go, a little amused. âdamn. alright.â
the air is thick with smoke and bass as he weaves through the crowd, bumping shoulders, dodging a girl dancing with her heels off and her hair in her face.
he reaches the makeshift tattoo stand.
it smells like rubbing alcohol and regret.
âyo,â he says, voice smooth as silk and twice as slow.
the guy behind the table, ink sleeves up to the neck, black gloves, sunglasses indoors, glances up.
âwhatâs up, man?â
choso leans down slightly, eyes low-lidded and unreadable, body loose and stoned and sexy in that careless way he always carries.
he holds out his phone.
âcan you do this,â he asks, âon my arm?â
the artist blinks, then looks at the screen.
itâs a close-up of a girlâs eyes, wide, seductive, yet still glowing with laughter. looking up at the camera like whoever took the photo was the only thing in the world.
looking up at him.
choso taps the screen once. âthose are hers.â
the guy raises a brow. âlike⊠your girl?â
choso shrugs one shoulder. his eyes never leave the photo.
the buzz of the needle starts soft, a low, persistent hum, and choso doesnât even flinch. he just leans back, one arm draped lazily across the armrest, hoodie shoved halfway up his bicep where the artist wiped him down with alcohol. his eyes are half-lidded, bloodshot from whatever gojo rolled earlier, but locked on the phone heâs holding out in his opposite hand.
the pictureâs still up. her eyes, warm and wide, lashes curled, looking up at him like she trusts him with her whole heart.
âpretty,â the tattoo guy mutters, angling a small light to get a better look as he sketches the stencil. âyours?â
chosoâs mouth curves slow. doesnât answer right away. just flicks his lighter open and closed, click, click, click, the red spider lilies catching the light each time.
then finally:
ânah.â
the guy hums. âgirlfriend?â
he huffs a little, amused. ânot that either.â
he sets the lighter down on the table beside him, keeps his eyes on the screen.
âsheâs just,â he pauses, then shrugs, soft and slow, âher. yâknow?â
the artist side-eyes him. âdeep.â
choso smiles again, eyes unfocused. ânah, iâm just fuckinâ high.â the guy presses the warm stencil into chosoâs arm, smooths it into place.
âyou sure you wanna do this while youâre, uh,â he glances at chosoâs glassy expression, the faint grin still tugging at his mouth, âclearly not sober?â
âiâm not wasted,â choso says lazily. âand iâm not dumb. itâs not a mistake.â the artist nods once, respects it. âalright, man.â he flips on the machine again, lines it up.
âyou done this before?â choso grunts a laugh. âyâthink i got these in my sleep?â he gestures vaguely at the black ink already crawling across both arms, jagged, abstract lines, constellations and waves, some faded with age. some done in basements like this one. âfirst time sober was the weirdest one.â
the guy snorts. âfair.â
the needle hits skin.
choso exhales slow. doesnât flinch, doesnât shift, doesnât even blink hard. just stares at the wall across the room, jaw slack, hoodie sliding off his shoulder, the buzz settling into the meat of his arm like a low hum of intention. âyou ever tattoo someone like this before?â he murmurs after a beat.
âlike what?â
he shrugs again. âsomeone whoâs⊠yâknow.â the guy doesnât answer right away.
choso elaborates, voice softer this time. âsheâs not mine. i donât want her to be. not right now. itâs not like that. itâs justâŠâ he trails off, brows furrowing a little, tongue tucked against the inside of his cheek.
âshe just means somethinâ. donât got a word for it.â
the artist doesnât look up from his work, but his toneâs gentler when he speaks again. âyeah. iâve seen that before.â choso sinks deeper into the chair, breathing even. the painâs dull and constant, but it grounds him. keeps his thoughts from spiraling too far out, keeps his high in this exact moment.
âyou think sheâd be mad?â he asks, voice airy. âif she saw it?â
âdunno,â the guy says. âyou gonna tell her?â he blinks slow, head rolling back against the headrest.
ânah.â
another pause.
ânot now. itâs just for me.â the tattooer gives a small nod. âthatâs real.â
a silence settles between them, the steady hum of the needle, the sound of someone vomiting into a bush outside the window, a muffled scream from the beer pong table two rooms over.
âlooks good,â the artist murmurs, wiping excess ink from the forming lines of the eyes. âsheâs got crazy lashes.â
choso huffs out a small laugh. âsheâd fuckinâ love that you noticed that.â
âyeah?â
he smiles again, softer now. âtalked about lash serum for like a week. gave me a whole presentation.â
the guy chuckles under his breath. âsounds like she talks a lot.â
choso closes his eyes.
âshe talks just enough.â the buzz continues. the lines take shape. her eyes, right there, etched into his skin. not to claim. not to confess. just to remember.
just for him.
~
the buzz dies down gradually, tapering into a low hum before the artist finally flicks the switch and pulls back. the sudden quiet settles like a heavy blanket over the both of them, just the soft thud of bass from the next room and the subtle scrape of latex gloves against skin.
âalright, man,â the artist says, leaning back with a stretch. âdone.â
choso blinks slow, still slouched deep in the chair like heâs been there for hours, like the cushion molded around his bones. he lifts his head, eyes hazy but laser-locked on the strip of bandage being pressed to his upper arm.
âyo, hold up, lemme see it before you cover it,â he says, voice low and hoarse from either weed or reverence, maybe both.
the guy lifts a brow, but obliges. carefully wipes the skin one last time, blood and excess ink coming away in soft red-black smears. the roomâs fluorescent lights hit the raw lines at an angle, shining off the freshly tattooed skin like itâs something holy.
and fuck.
there it is.
your eyes.
wide and soft and open, curved lashes sweeping upward in a way no stencil shouldâve captured but somehow did. that quiet way you look at him, like he hung the stars, like heâs yours even if the two of you never say it out loud. inked permanent on the soft part of his bicep, nestled between a set of waves and the jagged edge of a half-finished constellation.
for a second, he doesnât speak. doesnât move.
he just stares.
it hits him slow, like a good edible, starts behind his eyes, low and warm in his chest, then spreads.
yo.
heâs obsessed.
like fully, all the way, brain-meltingly obsessed.
he turns his arm slightly under the light, eyes tracing the lines, the slight curve of your upper lid, the detail around the corners like you're mid-laugh or mid-thought or both. it looks exactly like you, his favorite version of you. the version that looks up at him like nothing else exists in the room.
god.
you look good on him. not in the possessive way. not even close. itâs not that.
itâs something else. something way quieter. something he canât even name when heâs sober, and definitely not now, baked out of his skull with his arm still tingling and his hoodie falling half off.
but still, heâs wearing you now. and it feels like something thatâs always been true, just waiting for the ink to make it real.
âyou good?â the artist asks, half amused, already reaching for the plastic wrap again. âyeah,â choso says, slow, mouth crooked into a lazy grin. âlooks fuckinâ sick, dude.â the guy chuckles under his breath. âkinda figured youâd say that.â
âyou killed it,â choso adds, finally dragging his eyes off the tattoo. âlike, actually.â
the artist nods, pleased. âappreciate it. was fun as hell to do, honestly. you sure you donât want her name or somethinâ? under it?â choso snorts. ânah. thatâd make it weird.â
âfair.â
he watches the guy gently press a clean dressing over the fresh ink, tape it up. the sensationâs a dull sting under his skin, not quite pain, just awareness. a reminder that itâs real now. that itâs his, for good.
she doesnât know. you might never know. and thatâs kinda the whole point. heâs not gonna flash it at you mid-party or say anything slick when you sit beside him later like you always do, throwing your legs over his lap and stealing his drink.
nah.
this oneâs just for him. a secret under his sleeve, tucked into the curve of his body like a memory.
âyou gonna keep it under wraps?â the guy asks, like he can read chosoâs whole plan off his face.
âyeah,â choso mutters, grabbing his hoodie and tugging the sleeve back down with a practiced flick. âat least for now. donât need her freakinâ out or nothing.â
âbet,â the guy says with a short laugh. âi get it.â
choso stands slow, body still heavy from sitting too long and smoking too much. he sways a bit but rights himself, shaking out his arms like heâs just come up from underwater. the whole basement smells like blood and rubbing alcohol and resin, but itâs warm, and the energy buzzes low and steady around him.
he digs in his pocket for a few bills, slaps them into the artistâs open palm.
âappreciate you, man.â
âanytime, bro. take care of that, donât go dunkinâ it in a keg or anything.â choso grins. âno promises.â
he walks out with his hoodie draped low, sleeve tugged all the way to his wrist despite the heat and the crowd and the chaotic press of bodies funneling in from the hallway. music floods back in slow, a pulse of bass syncing up with his own heartbeat.
but he canât stop thinking about it. every step he takes, every time the sleeve brushes against the fresh ink, it reminds him.
not of what they are.
but of what you mean.
upu didnât need to give him that lighter. you didnât have to think about him in that little quiet way you always did, like heâs more than just a weed plug or the guy you party with every weekend. that little moment, just you in your dorm, painting red spider lilies on a bic you knew heâd never throw away? that shit went straight to his chest. and now you're on his skin. maybe you'd freak out if you saw it. maybe you'd cry. maybe you'd laugh.
maybe you'd get real quiet and never say anything again. or maybe you'd look at him the way you did in that photo. maybe you'd look at him like you knew.
but all thatâs for later. for now, heâs just stoned as hell, arm warm and throbbing, and so unbelievably content that itâs almost embarrassing.
he spots gojo again across the room, already perched on the arm of someone elseâs couch with a red solo cup and a grin like he owns the house. choso veers toward him, slips back into the noise like he never left.
sleeve tugged down.
lighter in his pocket.
eyes on his arm, just for him.
~
later that night you navigate yourself back to choso after your banter with the girls.
you spot him sunk deep into the cushions, hood half up, curls falling into his face, a bottle of water in one hand and his eyes half-lidded and sleepy with that lazy high he wears better than anyone. heâs surrounded, gojo splayed on one armrest like he owns the place, sukuna lounged sideways with his feet on the table, and suguru perched on the edge, nursing a half-finished blunt.
âyo, look who it is,â gojo grins as you walk up, already clocking the way you move like youâre headed home, not just to a guy. âprincess finally found her prince.â
you donât say anything, just slide right into the little space at chosoâs side like it was made for you. his arm shifts automatically, pulling you in like itâs instinct, and you tuck your face into his shoulder, letting out the softest exhale. you can feel the thrum of his voice in your cheek when he speaks.
âhey, ma.â
his handâs warm against your hip, steady, grounding. he smells like weed and cedar and the faintest trace of paint from the lighter you gave him. itâs in his pocket now, safe like something sacred.
âso anyway,â suguru picks back up like you didnât just crash-land in chosoâs lap, âiâm telling you, the guy had no idea what he was doing. tried to roll with a swisher, no guts, just dumped the weed in and twisted the end like a fuckinâ lollipop.â
âgod, not the lollipop roll,â sukuna groans, dragging a hand over his face. âfreshman?â
âof course it was a freshman,â gojo says, grinning. âthose little guys think watching one youtube tutorial makes them bob marley.â
âyo, remember that one dude at the delta party?â choso says, head tilting back slightly. ârolled a joint with a bible page.â
âamen,â sukuna snorts.
ânah, for real,â choso laughs, hand tightening just slightly where it rests on your side. âhe said it made the high holier.â you huff against his hoodie, and his fingers flex like he felt it, like it was the best sound heâd heard all night.
they keep going, weed stories, party war stories, the dumbest shit theyâve ever seen in a frat house at 3am. itâs relentless, loud, chaotic, but you stay quiet, tucked against chosoâs side like heâs the only still thing in the room. his thumb runs in slow circles against your waist through the fabric of your top, and you feel the way he laughs before you hear it.
âyo,â gojo says, leaning across suguru to point at choso. âwhatâs the craziest thing youâve ever done at a party?â
âbesides adopt a girlfriend he doesnât kiss?â sukuna adds. choso blinks slow. doesnât rise to the bait, doesnât even twitch.
âprobably that time at theta when i fell asleep in the bathtub and woke up with a raccoon in my lap.â suguru chokes. âyou serious?â
âdeadass.â
âwas it⊠alive?â
âbro. it was chillinâ. just vibinâ with me.â
âyou probably hotboxed the tub,â gojo says, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. âraccoon was just tryna get high.â
choso grins, soft and slow, and you nudge your nose into his hoodie like youâre hiding your own smile. âwhat about women?â sukuna says suddenly, eyes glinting like heâs fishing. âyâall ever hook up at your own party?â
âyouâre disgusting, that's against regâ gojo tells him cheerfully.
âdonât lie,â sukuna drawls. âyou know you have.â
âalright, once,â gojo admits. âbut i kicked her out after because she tried to name my bongs.â âyouâre heartless,â suguru says, deadpan.
âyou donât name the bongs,â gojo insists. âthey earn names. itâs sacred.â
âwhat about you, choso?â sukunaâs gaze cuts sideways. âyou got bodies stacked in your stoner dungeon?â choso hums, slow and easy. you feel the low sound in his chest, pressed flush to your cheek.
ânah,â he says. âi donât hook up with girls who donât know how to roll.â the boys howl, gojo nearly falling off the couch.
âthatâs so on brand,â suguru laughs. âyou need standards,â choso mumbles, amused, and leans his cheek briefly against the top of your head.
the lighterâs still in his pocket. his armâs still over your shoulders. and beneath the sleeve of his hoodie, hidden from the world, your eyes are inked into his skin.
you shift a little, just enough to tuck your legs under yourself, settling more fully into him, and he adjusts without thinking â arm around you tighter now, palm spread warm across your ribs, thumb grazing your side through the fabric. heâs careful. doesnât let the hoodie ride up. doesnât let anyone see. the tattooâs still fresh, still tender, and itâs just for him.
âyo, you good?â suguru asks, nodding at him. choso blinks slow. âyeah manâ.â
âthat weed hit hard,â gojo says. âi feel like iâm seeinâ sounds.â
âyou tryna kill someone?â suguru laughs. âevery time i hit one, i feel like my soulâs leaving my body.â
âshitâs a rite of passage,â sukuna shrugs.
ânah, a rite of passage is hosting a rager with a cop at your door and acting like you live there,â gojo grins. âhave you?â choso asks, amused.
âbro, iâve answered the door in a bathrobe before,â gojo says proudly. they all crack up again. you donât say anything, but your smileâs pressed right into chosoâs chest, and he dips his head for a second to nuzzle his nose into your hair.
âsheâs real quiet tonight,â suguru says, noticing. ânah, sheâs just comfy,â choso says easily. âshe donât need to talk when sheâs like this.â
you donât. not when youâve got his warmth, his arm around you, his voice rumbling low in your ear with every lazy joke. itâs always like this, like no one else in the room really matters, like you could fall asleep right here and heâd keep the world spinning while you did.
âthatâs love,â gojo says mock-serious.
âshut up,â choso mutters. but he doesnât stop smiling. and the lighterâs still warm in his pocket.
and your eyes are still inked into his arm, safe and secret beneath layers of cotton and smoke.
~
the house is still going when you two finally get up. itâs past 2am, maybe closer to 3, but the music hasnât let up and thereâs still people on the floor, drinks in hand, voices loud and slurred over each other. someoneâs passed out with a sharpie mustache, another guyâs making out with a pillow. classic kappa chaos.
chosoâs the one who moves first. you feel it in the way his arm shifts, in the soft brush of his thumb against your side like a nudge. he leans in close, voice barely above a murmur.
âyou good to dip?â
you nod into his hoodie, eyes half-lidded, heart heavy with warmth and weed.
he helps you up slow, palm steady at your back. when you stand, the cold air from the open back door hits your legs and you shiver a little, instinctively leaning back into his side. he shrugs his hoodie higher and throws an arm around your shoulders like he already knew itâd happen.
âyo,â choso calls out over the couch, voice scratchy and low. âwe out.â
gojo perks up from where heâs still posted with a half-spilled drink, eyes bright. âtell your girlfriend goodnight for us.â
you donât say anything, just press your face into chosoâs shoulder again, and he laughs under his breath.
ânight, man,â suguru says with a nod, already halfway into rolling another blunt.
sukuna lifts a hand lazily. âtext if you end up in a ditch.â
âif i do, iâm takinâ you with me,â choso mutters.
they all laugh again, and it follows you both out the front door, the porch light buzzing weak and yellow above you. the nightâs cooler now, quiet in a way that makes everything feel soft around the edges. your heels click against the pavement as you walk, but only for a second, choso notices and without a word, crouches down in front of you, glancing back over his shoulder.
âget on.â
you blink, amused. âseriously?â
âcâmon, ma,â he mumbles, tugging at your wrist. âyour feet hurt.â
you climb onto his back with a little laugh, arms wrapped loose around his shoulders, and he stands like itâs nothing, steady under your weight. his steps are slow and sure down the sidewalk, the frat house lights shrinking behind you, the sounds of the party fading with every step.
âyou always take care of me,â you mumble against his neck.
he hums low. ââcourse i do. you're my.. best friend.â
you walk like that for a while, his hoodie soft against your cheek, his hair brushing your face every time the wind shifts. he doesnât say much, just hums sometimes or comments on dumb shit you pass, a traffic cone in a bush, a raccoon on the curb that freezes when it sees you, like it knows choso somehow.
he sets you down once youâre close, only when his own buildingâs steps are in sight. his hand stays in yours as he leads you inside, up the stairs, past the other bedrooms where people are either passed out or definitely not sleeping. his door clicks shut behind you with a soft thud, and everything goes quiet.
his roomâs the same as always, warm, dim, the faint smell of weed and whatever incense he burned earlier in the week still lingering in the corners. one sock on the floor, a hoodie thrown over the back of his chair. youâve been here a hundred times, maybe more.
but tonight feels different. softer. warmer.
he pulls his hoodie off slow, careful of the sleeve, and tosses it toward the desk chair. the bandage underneath catches the light for a second, but he turns before you see too much.
you toe your shoes off and crawl onto the bed without thinking. he follows, slower, body still heavy with high and heat and something else he canât name.
youâre both under the blanket when he finally speaks.
âhey.â
you look over, curled on your side facing him.
his eyes are half-lidded, soft. one arm tucked behind his head, the other stretched toward you, palm open on the comforter like heâs offering it.
âi really fuckinâ love that lighter.â
your heart stutters a little. âyeah?â
he nods, slow. âlike⊠a lot. been using it all night. even switched pockets for it, kept checking to make sure it didnât fall out or get swiped.â
you smile, something small and full blooming in your chest. âgood. itâs supposed to be yours.â
âfeels like it.â
he looks at you for a long second. the space between you shrinks until his arm slides around your waist and pulls you in close.
you go easy, always do, settling into him like heâs your own bed, your own pillow, the place you always end up no matter how far you drift.
he breathes in slow, his nose brushing your hair.
âthe flowers⊠whyâd you paint those?â
you press your face into his chest.
âthey reminded me of you,â you say quietly. âred spider lilies. theyâre kind of⊠complicated. people think theyâre about death or goodbye, but they also mean memory. rebirth. starting over. they grow in all the places nothing else does.â
chosoâs quiet for a second.
then, soft, âyou think iâm like that?â
you shrug against him, voice even softer. âi think youâre the kind of person who sticks. who stays even when shit gets hard. and you donât always say how you feel but⊠youâre steady. like those flowers. like fire.â
he exhales slow.
âfuck, ma.â
âwhat?â
âyouâre gonna make me cry or some shit.â
you laugh, a quiet huff against his chest. he wraps both arms around you now, tucking you into the space beneath his chin, his hand sliding up into your hair.
his fingers stroke slow, gentle. again and again.
âyou can cry,â you mumble. âi wonât tell.â
he chuckles low, the sound vibrating through you.
ânah, iâm good. just⊠i dunno. not used to someone thinkinâ about me like that.â
you donât say anything. just curl closer, your fingers fisting lightly in the fabric of his shirt.
the room settles into silence. soft and slow. your breaths even out together.
his hand keeps stroking through your hair, steady and grounding. like he could do it forever. like maybe he will.
his voice comes again, quieter this time.
âgonna keep that lighter forever.â
you smile, eyes fluttering shut. âgood.â
ânot even gonna let gojo touch it."
âdefinitely good.â
his lips brush your hair, a ghost of a kiss.
you feel it all, the warmth, the safety, the way his body curls slightly to fit around yours like a shield, like a home.
his heartbeatâs slow against your cheek.
ânight, ma,â he whispers, already half-asleep.
you murmur it back, voice slurred with sleep, breath syncing with his.
his fingers keep moving, slow circles through your hair.
and in the soft dark, beneath the blanket, beneath the silence, his arm curls around you just enough to press the fresh ink on his bicep to your side, a quiet secret. a permanent truth.
just for him.
just for tonight.
just for you.
~
~
itâs been a chill afternoon, sunâs out, classes dragging, brain fried. chosoâs walking out of the lab building with his earbuds in, hoodie half-zipped, replaying your last message in his head. a pic of your shoes kicked off under a library table, captioned come save me, three broken hearts. made him smile. still does.
heâs almost past the quad when a shadow cuts across the sidewalk.
âyo, choso.â
doesnât need to look up to know who it is.
that voice, too smooth. familiar in the kind of way that feels like smoke curling up your back.
he pulls one earbud out and slows.
tojiâs leaned against the trunk of an oak tree like heâs been waiting. sunglasses on, black tee snug across his chest, arms crossed like heâs got all day. his smirkâs already half-there.
âwhatâs up?â choso mutters.
âyou got a sec?â
choso gives him a long look. he knows toji. knows the kind of calm that means somethingâs coming.
ââŠyeah,â he says anyway.
they walk.
theyâve done this before, that time a few weeks ago before his lab, once or twice after parties, when everyone else was loud and drunk and messy. tojiâs always been different. sharper. like he watches the room just to see where it bleeds.
âhowâs life at delta mu?â toji asks after a few steps. casual. fake.
âsame shit.â
âyeah?â he smirks. âyou still throwing those weed parties with your little mascot?â
chosoâs jaw ticks. âyou mean y/n?â
toji chuckles. âyeah. her.â
he tosses a glance sideways. too casual.
âsheâs got some energy, huh? always bouncing around, arms all over you. she like that with everybody or just you?â
choso doesnât answer. toji doesnât need one.
ânah, iâve seen it,â he continues. âalways tucked up next to you. on your lap. wrapped around your arm. clinging to your hoodie like itâs the last blunt in the world.â
he laughs under his breath. âkinda cute.â
chosoâs fists go deep in his pockets.
âsheâs just like that,â he says flatly.
toji hums. âyou sure?â
choso looks over.
âwhatâs your point?â
âjust wondering,â toji shrugs, still smiling like itâs harmless. âyouâve told me before, you two arenât dating.â
âweâre not.â
âbut you hang out every day.â
âyeah.â
âsleep in the same bed sometimes, right?â
chosoâs mouth tightens.
toji grins like he caught something.
âso sheâs single?â
choso stares straight ahead.
ââŠyeah.â
âgood to know.â
silence.
the wind brushes through the quad. students chatter behind them. someoneâs playing music from a bluetooth speaker in the grass, something smooth, almost romantic. it doesnât help.
âsheâs just real⊠open, you know?â toji says. âlike, warm. sweet as hell. makes you feel like youâve known her forever.â choso stays quiet.
âi ran into her the other day,â toji adds like itâs nothing. âoutside the gym. we talked for a sec.â his tone is lighter now. teasing. like heâs digging.
âshe remembered my name. smiled real nice, too. said she was headed to meet you.â
no surprise there. you always say where you're going. always talking about choso like heâs the center of your world. and maybe thatâs why this stings. and toji knows it.
âyou ever wonder if she does that for you?â he asks. âtells other guys sheâs headed to see you. uses your name like a shield.â
he doesnât wait for a reply.
âor maybe itâs just habit. maybe sheâs comfortable. you ever think about that?â
âdonât do this.â
chosoâs voice is low now. warning. toji just smirks.
âlook, man. iâm not trying to piss you off. just⊠trying to understand. âcause you act like youâre her boyfriend, but then you say youâre not.â
he tilts his head.
âso which is it?â
choso breathes slow through his nose.
âweâre close. weâve always been close. thatâs it.â toji nods. like he buys it.
but he doesnât.
âdamn,â he says. âyou got more patience than me.â
âwhatâs that mean?â
âmeans if a girl like that was pressed up on me every night, i wouldnât be wasting time calling her my friend.â he says it with a grin, but thereâs something sharp underneath.
âyou really never tried?â toji asks. ânever kissed her? not once?â choso doesnât respond. he canât. he kisses you all the time, on the head, bebe ron the lips.
because the truthâs stuck in his throat, the way you fall asleep in his arms, the way you hold his lighter like it means something, the way you always come back to him like heâs home. and heâs the dumbass who never claimed you.
âso sheâs single, then?â toji repeats.
âyeah,â choso says, barely above a whisper.
toji gives him one last nod.
âcool,â he says. âjust wanted to be sure.â and then he walks away. choso doesnât move. not for a long time.
just stands there, fists clenched, teeth gritted, watching tojiâs silhouette disappear down the path like itâs a threat, because it is. he knew.
he knew before he asked.
and now heâs coming.
because choso left the door wide open.
and you?
youâre free to walk through it.
~
chosoâs room, late afternoon
your legs are curled under you on chosoâs bed, hoodie three sizes too big hanging off your shoulder, his, of course. the windows are cracked open, letting in the soft hum of birds and the echo of some guys yelling down at the basketball court. his room smells like incense, sage and something deeper, something him, warm, sleepy. youâve been here a hundred times like this. maybe more.
his hoodie sleeves keep sliding past your wrists as you text, thumbs quick, quiet smile pulling at your lips. heâs across the room, digging through a drawer for his rolling tray. you can feel his presence without even looking. always do.
âyo, did you move my grinder?â he calls, glancing over his shoulder.
ânope,â you answer, distracted, fingers still flying over your screen. your phone lights again.
toji [3:04pm]: you looked cute at that mixer last night.
you bite your lip. thumbs hover.
then you type:
you [3:07pm]: oh you're stalking me noww?
you donât see choso pause. you donât see how long his eyes linger on your phone. you donât realize he saw the name, until he speaks.
âwho you texting?â
you blink up, tone of his voice unfamiliar.
âhm? ohââ you shift your phone in your hand, instinctive. âjust⊠someone.â
he tilts his head.
âsomeone, huh.â
you laugh a little. âwhy do you sound like that?â
he doesnât answer. he crosses the room instead, slow steps. plants himself at the edge of the bed, arms folded. you look up at him and that warm energyâs gone. replaced with something colder. sharp.
âthat toji?â
your breath stalls.
ââŠyeah.â
choso stares at you. unreadable.
âwhy?â
âwhat do you mean why?â you ask, eyebrows tugging. âhe messaged me. we were just talking.â
he hums. low. not buying it.
âjust talking,â he echoes. âwhat about?â you sit up straighter. âwhatâs going on?â
âwhatâd he say?â
âchosoââ
âlemme see.â
he gestures at your phone. you clutch it instinctively. like muscle memory. like guilt? âare you serious right now?â he doesnât answer. jawâs tight. eyes dark.
âwhatâd he say?â he asks again. your fingers squeeze your phone. you feel a flush crawl up your neck. not from embarrassment, but shock.
âyouâre not serious,â you say again, this time quieter. he just looks at you. so you speak.
âhe said i was cute when i was bored. and i said maybe. thatâs it.â
his jaw ticks.
âyou flirting with him?â
âwhat?â
âyou heard me.â
you scoff. âno. i wasnât. it wasnât even- i didnât mean it like that.â choso steps back, runs a hand through his hair. pacing now.
âyou texting him while youâre in my bed?â
âwhat does that matter?â
âit matters.â
his voice is sharper now. rough around the edges. not loud, but tight, like itâs fighting to stay inside his chest. âyou know how i feel about that guy.â
âchoso, heâs been nothing but nice latelyââ
âheâs not nice. heâs not interested in being friends. heâs waiting. heâs circling. you donât see it?â you blink.
âso what, youâre mad âcause i texted him back?â he looks at you like you just spit on the floor. âiâm mad âcause youâre in my fucking hoodie, in my bed, telling some other guy heâs got a shot.â
you freeze.
the silence that falls is loud.
so loud.
your eyes widen. you stare at him, lips parted. unsure if you heard that right. unsure if he meant to say it.
âa shot?â you echo. he looks away. exhales hard.
ânever mind.â
âno,â you say, voice firm now. âsay it again.â
he doesnât. but you both feel the truth echoing off the walls.
you look down. suddenly too warm. like the hoodieâs burning your skin. ââŠi didnât know youâd care,â you say, almost to yourself.
choso swallows. âi do.â you glance back up.
âwhy?â
he doesnât answer. but you already know. and now the air is thick with it. the unspoken thing. and for the first time, itâs not sweet. not warm. it hurts.
because it means everything heâs never said, everything heâs been, came with conditions you never agreed to. came with borders he never drew, but expected you not to cross.
you breathe slow. he watches you. you speak first.
âif you wanted to be the only one texting me like that, you shouldâve said something.â chosoâs face shifts. his mouth opens like heâs going to say something, defend himself, maybe, argue the way he always stays quiet because he doesnât want to lose you,but nothing comes out.
instead, his brows knit together, lips pressed in a tight line. his fingers curl at his sides.
âyou really think i donât wanna be that?â he says, voice rough. âyou think this shitâs been casual for me?â you blink at him. your breath catches.
âyouâve never said it was anything else, choso. what was i supposed to think?â
âfuck,â he growls, pacing again. âyou were supposed to know. i thought you knew.â
his voice rises, not yelling, but loud with frustration. heâs unraveling in real time, and itâs shaking something loose in you, too. âhow was i supposed to know?â you shoot back. âyou flirt but you never say anything. you touch me like iâm yours but act like iâm just your best friendââ
âyou are mine.â your voice dies in your throat.
he stares at you. and when he speaks again, itâs quieter, but no less intense.
âyouâre mine,â he says again, like a confession. like a curse. âalways been mine.â your stomach flips.
âthen whyââ your voice cracks â âwhy didnât you ever tell me?â
choso runs a hand through his hair again, like heâs trying to physically hold himself together. like it hurts.
ââcause i was scared,â he snaps. âscared that if i said it out loud, itâd fuck everything up. that youâd look at me different. that youâd leave.â you stare.
âso youâd rather let someone else have me?â
he stiffens. you rise onto your knees on the bed, fire lighting behind your ribs now. âyouâd rather let toji of all people try it?â
his jaw clenches. âheâs not gonna have you.â your heartbeat skids.
he moves in fast, faster than he ever has, and grabs your wrist, firm but not rough, like he canât bear to let the distance exist any longer.
âiâm not letting him have you,â he mutters.
youâre still frozen, looking up at him. something between fear and thrill curling in your gut.
âchoso,â you whisper. he doesnât stop. he pushes you back gently onto the bed, one hand catching your waist, the other bracing against the mattress. he hovers over you, breath heavy, eyes searching your face like heâs begging you to see it, really see it this time.
âiâm fucking in love with you.â
your heart punches into your throat. his forehead dips, pressing against yours, voice hoarse.
âiâve been in love with you since you showed up to my first party and we listened to that dumb song together.â
you let out a shaky laugh, but your eyes are wet his thumb brushes your cheek.
âi never said it âcause i thought this was enough. thought just having you close was better than risking it all. but i canâtââ he pulls in a breath, voice shaking now too â âi canât sit quiet while other people try to take you from me.â
youâre blinking fast now. breath catching. every inch of your skin feels like itâs on fire beneath his touch.
âyouâre my girl,â he says again, softer this time. âyouâve always been mine.â
you donât answer right away. your chest rises and falls beneath his, shallow and unsteady. your palm is still on his cheek, but your eyes have shifted, staring past him now. unfocused. wet.
âyouâre only saying that,â you murmur, âbecause someone else finally had the balls to go after me.â
his breath catches. your voice is quieter, but sharp now, like youâre trying to convince yourself. like you want to believe it, but the cracks are there, and theyâre splitting open.
âyou didnât say anything until he got involved. until he started asking about me. texting me. seeing me.â your hand falls away from his face. âand now suddenly, iâm yours?â
his eyes widen. ânoââ
âyou had so long to tell me, choso. so many chances.â
ây/n, itâs not like thatââ
âthen what is it like?â you breathe. ââcause i donât get to be the girl you only want when someone else does.â
choso stares at you, heart hammering. like you just ripped something raw and bloody straight out of his chest.
he swallows.
and then, slowly, he pushes back, just far enough to sit up on his knees beside you. the mattress dips with the weight shift. his hands fumble for the hem of his hoodie.
he pulls it up and over his head in one quick move. your breath stutters.
there, inked into the inside of his upper arm, where heâd hidden it every time you curled up against him, is a tattoo.
of your eyes.
staring straight back at you.
your real breath, the one stuck in your throat, finally punches out of you.
choso watches your expression shift, eyes flicking from the ink to his face and back. he swallows once, hard, and says:
âgot it the night of the party. when you gave me the lighter.â you blink.
âyou were curled up on me. whole time i was talking with the boys, i couldnât stop thinking about you. how close you were. how you looked at me like that was your home.â he swipes a thumb under his nose, like he doesnât know what else to do with his hands. âso i got up, high as fuck, to the guy tatting people in the corner. told him to ink your eyes on me.â
your lips part, but nothing comes out. his voice softens.
âi didnât say anything âcause i thought it was enough. just having you near. but itâs not. not anymore.â
your heart pounds so hard you feel it in your ears.
he looks at you like youâre the only thing in the room. like he needs you to believe it. really believe it.
âthis isnât about toji. itâs never been about him. i wanted you long before he ever said your name.â
youâre still staring at the tattoo.
he moves closer again. his hand brushes your knee, gentle.
âyou think iâd get your fucking eyes on me just âcause iâm jealous?â you blink fast.
his hand finds your face again. tender. grounding âyouâre it for me.â
his voice is low, raspy. not just from the emotion, but from how hard heâs holding it in, like if he lets go, everything heâs ever felt for you will come spilling out and drown him.
but he lets it go anyway.
âyouâre all i think about,â choso says, brushing his thumb over your cheek again. âwhen iâm high, when iâm sober, when youâre across the room and laughing at someoneâs stupid joke, when youâre asleep in my bed, wearing my shirt, youâre in my head all the time, ma.âyour breath catches.
âevery song reminds me of you. every little thing you do drives me crazy. you donât even know how much of me youâve got.â
he leans closer, forehead nearly touching yours.
âyou gave me that lighter and i wanted to kiss you right there in the middle of the street. when you paint your nails i stare at your hands for hours. when you fall asleep on me at parties, i sit still like a statue so you donât move. iâm always lookinâ at you like i already lost you. and it kills me.â
his hand finds your jaw, warm and steady, fingers curling behind your ear. your breath hitches, and heâs close enough to feel it.
âyouâve had my heart since freshman year. and i didnât say anything âcause i thought maybe you didnât want it. or maybe you already had it and didnât need to hear it out loud.â
you swallow, shaky. lips parted. cheeks flushed.
and choso looks down at them, your lips, like heâs been holding himself back from kissing you for a lifetime.
and then he doesnât anymore.
he crashes into you like heâs starving.
the kind of kiss that drags a sound out of your throat before you even realize it, all heat and pressure and ache, all the months and years and everything heâs shoved down, poured out into the way his lips mold against yours. he kisses you like heâs afraid youâll pull away, and like he knows you wonât.
your hands claw at his shoulders, winding into the mess of his hair, tugging him in even closer. and choso groans, deep in his throat, pressing you down into the bed, slotting his hips against yours.
his mouth moves fast, desperate, lips, tongue, teeth, like he canât get enough. like the taste of you is something he needs in his lungs.
âfuck,â he breathes against your mouth, dragging his lips down your jaw, âyou donât get it, do you?â
your back arches, lips parting when he sucks lightly under your ear.
âhow bad iâve wanted this. you.â
his hands roam, over your waist, under your shirt, up your sides like heâs trying to memorize all of you at once. and every place he touches leaves a trail of fire.
you moan his name, soft and shaky, and he loses it a little more, bites your bottom lip as he grinds his hips down into yours, heavy and hot and so there.
âsay it again,â he mutters, eyes half-lidded, forehead pressed to yours. âsay my name.â
âchoso.â
he shudders.
âagain.â
âcho!.â
he kisses you so deep it knocks the breath out of your lungs. kisses you like he owns you, like youâve always belonged to him, and like heâs finally letting himself claim whatâs already his.
and fuck, you let him.
youâve wanted this just as long. needed him just as bad.
and now, with your limbs tangled, your body burning under his, your heart thudding like a war drum in your chest, thereâs no more pretending.
youâre his. heâs yours. and itâs written all over his face.
choso looks at you like youâre the only thing heâs ever wanted, like heâs starved for you, but still savoring the moment. his eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, but soft. reverent. he cups your cheek with a hand thatâs just slightly trembling, brushing his thumb along your skin like he canât believe youâre real.
he kisses your forehead, slow and grounding, like a promise. then your nose. then your lips, and that one lingers. warm, aching, deep enough that it steals the air from your lungs. itâs not just desire. itâs everything heâs never said until now.
âplease let me see you, ma." he whispers, voice hoarse, like heâs been holding back forever.
you nod, lips parted, eyes locked with his. your breath stutters as his fingers ghost over the hem of your shirt, lifting it inch by inch like heâs unwrapping something precious. he tosses it aside, only to pull you in again. his palms spread wide across your ribs, thumbs brushing just beneath your chest.
âfuck,â he breathes, low and to himself. âso fucking beautiful.â
he leans in, mouth dragging hot and open along your neck, kissing and breathing you in, his lips trembling against your pulse like heâs drunk off you. he murmurs something there, a soft, almost desperate, âmine,â before he undoes your bra with one practiced flick.
and when it falls away, he doesnât touch you right away. he just stares, like the sight of you has knocked the wind out of him.
his hands come up slow, palms warm as they cup you like heâs afraid to break something delicate. âbeen dreaming about this,â he says. âabout you. here. like this. in my bed. lookinâ up at me like you already know iâd give you everything.â
you shiver under the weight of it all, his voice, his gaze, his touch. and then his mouth is on your chest, lips sealing around your nipple, tongue flicking before he sucks â slow, deep, just enough to make you arch into him with a needy whimper.
âchosoâŠâ
he groans, hand sliding lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. he pulls them down with your panties in one motion, dragging his palms down your thighs on the way. and when he sits back, just to take you in, bare, breathless, flushed, his eyes go wide, like heâs trying to commit you to memory. âlook at you,â he murmurs, chest rising with each ragged breath. âyou donât even know what you do to me, do you?â
you reach for him, tugging his shirt up and over his head, palms skating down the strong lines of his chest, stopping only when your fingers find his arm. your breath catches.
your eyes. inked in black and red over his skin, etched like a confession. you won't ever get sick of seeing it.
he watches you take it in, sees the exact moment you understand, and he doesnât say anything. not at first. he just leans in, takes your hand in his, and presses it over his heart.
âsee?â he whispers. âbeen yours. always.â
your eyes brim, chest tight with something that has no name. and then he kisses you again, slow and deep, tongue stroking yours, hand sliding between your thighs. he groans into your mouth when he feels you, warm, wet, already trembling.
âso wet for me,â he mutters, lips brushing yours. âall this for me, huh?â
his fingers dip into you, one at first, then two, slow and deep, curling just right. your back arches, mouth falling open with a gasp as he starts to move them, watching every twitch and shiver you give him like heâs memorizing the way you come apart. âfuck, baby,â he breathes. âyou feel so good, been wantinâ this for so long. just wanted to take care of you. make you feel good.â
his lips trail back down, mouth closing around your nipple again as his fingers keep working you open, the room echoing with your broken gasps and soft moans. he kisses your sternum, your ribs, every inch of you he can reach like heâs trying to make up for every second he didnât have you.
and when your legs start to tremble, when your thighs squeeze around his hand and you whimper his name into the crook of his neck, he groans, low and sexy, and pulls back just enough to strip the last of his clothes.
his cock is flushed, hard, already leaking, and still, he pauses.
he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing hard. âyou sure you wanna do this hun?â
âi want you,â you whisper, voice cracking. âi want all of you.â
and when he slides in, slow, deliberate, itâs overwhelming. your nails dig into his shoulders, mouth open in a silent gasp, and he just groans, long and low, burying his face in your neck.
âfuck, baby⊠you feel so fuckinâ good, made for me, huh?â
his hips rock into you, slow and deep, dragging along every sensitive inch inside you until youâre trembling again, mouth parted in helpless moans. he kisses you through it, messy and uncoordinated, full of teeth and tongue and need.
he doesnât hold back anymore. not his body, not his voice. heâs everywhere, his hands, his mouth, his words, and every thrust is rougher, deeper, hotter than the last.
âbeen yours since the day i met you,â he breathes against your skin. âyouâre mine, baby. mine. no one else gets to have you like this. no one else even fuckinâ compares.â
you believe him. how could you not, when heâs saying it like heâs been waiting years to let it out?
you fall apart first, clenching around him with a strangled moan, whole body trembling as your orgasm crashes through you, and choso follows, grinding into you with a low growl, holding you close as he spills into you.
he doesnât let go. not even after. he stays buried deep, forehead to yours, one hand cradling your jaw like itâs fragile.
ânot lettinâ you go,â he whispers. ânot now. not ever.â
~
the partyâs already in full swing when you two walk in. the bass thrums under your feet, bodies packed tight in the kappa house. familiar faces flash by in strobes of color and sound, solo cups raised, someone laughing too loud, gojo shouting across the room with a bottle in each hand.
and then you and choso step into the chaos like itâs nothing. except tonight, itâs not nothing. itâs everything. your hand is in his. his thumb strokes over your knuckles like itâs second nature, and youâre tucked into his side like youâve always belonged there. heâs wearing that hoodie you love, and youâve got it slung off your shoulder like itâs yours now. he hasnât let go of you since you walked through the door, and he doesnât plan to. people notice.
gojo sees first. his mouth falls open around the mouth of a beer can, and he drops it on the counter with a dramatic gasp. âoh my god.â choso raises an eyebrow, smirking. âno fuckin way,â sukuna mutters, eyes narrowing. âthis for real?â you donât say anything. just smile, nuzzling into chosoâs chest. and choso, god, he melts. his arm tightens around you like instinct, like heâs not even thinking about it. âyouâre kidding,â maki blurts from across the room. sheâs half-drunk and squinting, pointing her beer bottle at you two like sheâs trying to make sense of a mirage. âyou finally fucked?â
âmaki,â shoko hisses, slapping her arm, but sheâs already grinning. âi knew it. i knew it.â suguru lifts his drink with a slow, knowing smile. âtook you long enough.â gojo, meanwhile, is spinning in a circle like he just witnessed a miracle. âwait wait wait,â he says, pointing between the two of you. âyouâre telling me this entire time, weâve been watching you two eye-fuck each other across every frat house on campus, and now youâre just casually showing up like this?â
âwhat can i say,â choso murmurs, pulling you even closer, âi figured it was time.â âlook at his hand placement,â shoko says, leaning into maki. âthatâs not friends. thatâs boyfriend hand placement.â
âyeah and look at her,â maki laughs. âshe looks like she just got dicked down and praised like a goddess.â you duck your head a little, embarrassed, but choso leans in and kisses your cheek, then your temple. itâs so soft, so easy, and when he pulls back, he looks straight at toji whoâs staring wide eyed, steady, calm, but with a flicker of challenge in his eyes.
âdonât look at her like that,â he says, voice low. ânot tonight. not ever.â toji scoffs, raising his hands in mock surrender, but his grin is sharp. âdamn. someoneâs possessive now.â
âbeen possessive,â choso mutters, like itâs not even up for debate. he turns his attention back to you instantly, brushing your hair behind your ear.
âyou okay?â you nod. âiâm perfect.â and then he kisses you. not a peck. not for show. itâs slow, unhurried, with his hand cupping your jaw and his lips moving with the kind of tenderness that makes your knees weak. the room could be burning down and he wouldnât stop. you donât even hear gojoâs dramatic screech until you break apart.
âyo this is crazy,â he says, spinning around and yelling to no one in particular. âchoso is off the market. choso kamo, resident stoner-lover of no one but his weed and his hoodie collection, is now cuffed.â
âwhatâs it feel like,â suguru asks with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at choso, âto be someoneâs boyfriend?â
âfeels like i shoulda done it years ago,â choso says. you blink up at him, heart catching in your throat. âyo,â yuuji calls from the other side of the room. âdoes this mean weâre finally allowed to say you two have been in love since freshman year?â âi always said it,â nobara yells, shoving through the crowd with a drink. âdonât act like yâall didnât see them cuddled up at every party like an old married couple.â
âwait does this mean sheâs moving into his room?â gojo asks, visibly spiraling. âwhatâs gonna happen to the guest bed? whoâs gonna roll for me when chosoâs too busy being in love?â
âdie mad,â choso says flatly, and everyone laughs. but even through all the noise and teasing and attention, his focus never strays from you. his hand stays on your waist. his eyes keep dropping to your mouth like heâs remembering exactly what it feels like.
âyou good?â he murmurs again, like he just wants to hear you say it.
you press your nose to his chest and nod, smiling. âmore than good.â
he kisses you again, slower this time, like itâs just for you. like no one else is in the room. like heâs exactly where heâs always wanted to be.
and the thing is â he is.
heâs yours. fully, finally, publicly.
more choso for you >~< 'sticky situation' 'you,always.'