aj :)

You whine a little in protest even though the reference makes your lips tick. "But you guys made me so comfortable already..."

And they truly have.

The bath had been waiting for you before you'd even thought to ask for one. Actually, the idea was planted in Satoru and Suguru's heads the moment you texted that you were dead-tired and grimy to the group chat from the back of Ijichi's car. You had been the only one to head out on a mission today, Satoru spending the day teaching and training the first years and Suguru mirroring him with the third years— Satoru had weaseled his way into a full hands-on day with his students, claiming he needed somewhat of a break, and Suguru spent most of his time teaching rather than hunting curses anymore, anyways.

(You and Satoru have been on the offensive with the higher-ups for years to nail down this arrangement for Suguru. Sure, Suguru still took on the occasional mission when everyone else was stretched thin by their own duties, but for his mental health’s sake, it was best that he stuck to guiding and nurturing the current generation.

You never want to see him as hollowly depressed as he was after everything that went down when he was a student.)

When you'd finally wandered into your shared house with knotted shoulders and your thumbs aggravatedly digging out the soreness from your temples, both your boyfriends snatched you up at the genkan and herded you like wildly insistent border collies to the master bedroom's ensuite, which had been transformed into a luxury spa during your twenty minute commute.

Towels were folded up in their warmer, candles swaying happily, the massive tub brimming with fragrant bathing oils and mineral salts— literally the whole nines. All the tiny things you'd long forgotten mentioning you preferred for a long soak were present, that information lovingly archived inside two impossibly attentive minds.

Before you could burst into happy tears at the lengths they went to for you, Suguru helped peel away your clothes before passing you off to Satoru, who offered both hands the moment you stepped toward the siren call of the water on sore legs, smoothly bowing as though escorting you into a ballroom instead of a bathtub.

Between them, lowering yourself into the steaming water (which was the fucking perfect temperature, holy hell) was less like climbing into a bath— another chore to hustle through before bed when you were already so worn-thin— and more like mindlessly handing yourself over for what they both dubbed your 'princess treatment.'

Suguru's smile is a ray of gentle light coloring his words, "Are we supposed to apologize for being good boyfriends?"

"Yeah. And you have to live with the consequences," you sigh, slumping further back into Satoru. The water rocks with you.

"You hear that?" Satoru says to Suguru over your head. You feel his chin nestle into your crown, arms loosely coiling at your waist. "She's blaming and threatening us."

"This is what happens when we go out of our way and draw us all a nice bath, huh," Suguru kisses his teeth, theatrically disappointed in you and what his and Satoru's efforts have come to. "Shame. I guess we won't be doing this ever again."

That finally gets your eyes to crack, blinking past the steam shrouding your slivered vision. Suguru watches the both of you with a sleepy beam curling the corners of his mouth, midnight lashes dampened and beading at their tips from the humidity. In spite of his long hair being wound up in a picture-perfect bun straight from Pinterest— his thorough wash-day took place yesterday and he's in no hurry to rewash his hair all over again— the baby hairs coiling at his nape and hairline are helplessly frizzy, fallen victim to the moisture in the air.

Suguru's gorgeous, a fallen angel meant to tempt you into the salacious temptations of the forbidden— much like the equally stunning blue-eyed beauty cuddled up to your behind, fluffed up white hair as refreshing as winter's first snowfall and his innate charming smile ten times more devastating than the cursed techniques sown into his very DNA.

"Hey," you protest, somewhat impressed by how he's twisted this situation to his benefit. "I didn't say all of that…"

A big warm palm finds a home on your shoulder, the callouses at the base of Satoru's fingers dragging a satisfyingly scratchy path over your skin. "I didn't agree to that either. Who's gonna appreciate all our hard work and dedication to pampering her if not, well, our princess?" Satoru wonders aloud, each richly pronounced syllable traveling in a velvety rolling rumble through his chest to your back.

Suguru cocks a brow, though he soaks up the reminder with a smoothly executed drag of the wooden bath tray closer to the corner of the tub's edge. Fancy crystalized bottles rattle, winking rainbow prisms across the walls; the oceanic waves of Satoru's irises, the deep earthiness of Suguru's.

You see them in everything, the two men coloring the world you traverse in a gallery forever curated in their likeness, to the point that you couldn't name a single thing on this planet without your lovers tinting your glasses.

Sometimes, you wonder whether the sky was always that boundless, cotton-candy blue, whether the nature crawling dense coils up Tokyo Jujutsu High's mountain campus had always carried such comforting shades of chocolate-brown, or if loving them has simply trained your eyes to always pay homage to Satoru and Suguru. Whatever the case, you're ridiculously smitten.

"Appreciation isn't the point, Satoru," lightly sniffs Suguru.

You wish you could see the stupid grin smeared across Satoru's countenance as he counters, jokingly, "It absolutely is."

"It really isn't," Suguru deadpans, looking to you as if to say get a load of this guy. You giggle.

"I don't know about you, babe, but I wanna be praised for my generous deeds," Satoru announces. "It hits like a line of coke after a long day."

Suguru slowly nods his assent. "That is true… though in your case, I'd say that cake is more your style than coke of all things."

"Snoooore," you loudly mime, deadpanning.

Satoru's laughter sears through your skin, beating a hearty rhythm between your shoulder blades. Suguru fans his fingers over his mouth as he joins in on Satoru's chuckling, amusement blossoming in the air. "Alright, alright. The deluxe princess treatment package is on its way now, promise," Suguru sing-songs with a little flap of his hand, finally easing up now that he's found a way back on track. "Satoru, you'll wash her hair and I'll do her body?"

"For sure," he chirps.

Ah, how nice it feels to lounge around like prized, celebrated royalty without a care in the world while your boys work a plan to pamper you.

All it takes is a simple curl of Suguru's black-painted finger for Satoru to obediently thrust his hand past your head, palm paralleling the ceiling as Suguru pops the glass stopper of a bottle and drizzles a generous heaping of shampoo into his hand's cup.

Satoru loops his arms around your front and works the shampoo between deft palms before your eyes, vanilla and camellia blossoms wafting up to your face, which you dip towards the comforting smell with a hum. It's Suguru's favorite shampoo— you're always surprised when he shares some of it and his conditioner with you, given how he treats it like the holy grail that he alone was blessed and entrusted with.

(Even funnier how he flat out refuses to let Satoru get his hands on it. Not that the white-haired sorcerer cares all that much anyhow; he uses a 3-in-1 shampoo and calls splashing tap water on his face a 'proper face wash.' You'd think a man so prideful about his vanity would splurge on products to properly care for himself and his Adonis body— the same way he buys from luxury clothing brands on the daily— instead of winging it like a head-in-the-clouds college fratboy, but alas…

You've gotta give it to him though: his genetics are killer. Curse Satoru and the goddamned perfectly pretty Gojo bloodline. It's not fair for the rest of you 'simpletons' who actually have to put in the work to groom and maintain yourself in order to look even half as unfairly attractive as he does on a random Thursday morning. The universe shamelessly plays favorites, and Satoru is its dazzling golden child.)

"Tilt your head back for me," he murmurs, long fingers immediately finding your hair— already sufficiently wet— the second you obey.

Humming an absent tune that lulls you into closing your eyes once more, Satoru gathers up all your hair, his usual boundless energy replaced by surprising patience. You can envision the way he's likely got his tongue peeking slightly between his teeth as he smooths the shampoo down your head, working up a rich, pearly lather from your crown to your ends with painstaking care exactly as Suguru once taught him.

Nobody from Jujutsu Tech— not Shoko, not Ijichi, not even any of the students— would expect such gentleness from the strongest sorcerer alive. The same man that tears into curses with calculated, almost joyous violence and blows them apart with a well-placed Red and a dry “oopsies,” is unbelievably tender in his task of shampooing the outer layer of your hair before diving to your roots, firm yet gentle. Reverent, really.

His nails glide along your scalp in purposefully light scrapes that send shivers down your spine. A contented sigh escapes you before you can stop it. "Satoruuuu…" You subconsciously roll the r in the same purring cadence that Suguru speaks his name in.

"Yooo, chill," Satoru splutters behind you, sounding alarmed by who knows what.

Suguru fills in the blank with a suggestive smile and thinning of his eyes: "Moan my name next, baby. I'm feeling left out."

Ah. Curious, you shuffle your hips back further into the cradle of Satoru's pelvis, glad to feel a distinct lack of engorged arousal insistently pestering your back; he's as flaccid as the day he was born. Your foot goes splashing water Suguru's way next. He catches your ankle beneath the surface and chuckles sunnily beneath the playful heat of your half-hearted glare.

"You're such a hater," he chastises.

"Excuse me for trying to enjoy my bath and the princess treatment you both promised me while you two horndogs try to make something out of nothing," you say dryly, though the pretense of sarcasm is rendered null by the next (accidentally) suggestive noise that floats its way past your lips when Satoru tugs a strand of shampooed hair just shy of too roughly.

"I didn't mean to do that, sorry!" Satoru jumps to apologize, presuming you'll give him shit for it and kick him out. But the joint snickers that both men promptly share over your head informs you that they're not exactly remorseful; and they're not even trying to play it sly.

"There's gonna be floggers and pillories in my online shopping cart by the end of the night if you two keep it up," you warn even though you're chuckling yourself. "That, or a sounding rod for you to share."

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am," Satoru and Suguru innocently chorus.

Devils, the two of them.

But you're not any better, for you praise them in the sweetest purr possible, "Thank you. Good boys," and you all too joyfully reap the color budding across their already bath-flushed cheeks, tipping your head back against Satoru's shoulder to see his properly.

Suguru and Satoru: 1.

You: also 1.

You'll break that tie soon.

Fingers still wrapped in a delicate snag around your ankle, thumb sweeping over the protruding bone, Suguru one-handedly pumps a decent dollop of body wash into his palm, making a fist and dragging his fingers through it to warm it up a tad. "Lift your leg a little higher for me, sweetheart," he instructs, voice no louder than twinkling rain shimmering in silvery ribbons from the sky.

Conscious yet uncaring of the fact that you're already flashing him your most private parts (both your boyfriends have literally seen it all in every sexual and non-sexual scenario possible), you do just that, trusting that Satoru's solidity will keep you from sliding forward on your ass and submerging your face. Your hip flexor and quadricep tighten in a show of undemandingly easy dexterity— the movement of the latter has Suguru's eyes flicking down to watch as though you're his favorite film made human.

He scrunches his legs up in order to fit into the 'v' your own make. Shifting his grip to the back of your calf, he paints your skin in fragrant body wash from your foot, kneecap, to the crease connecting hip to thigh, coating you thoroughly and treating you to an impromptu massage along the way, thumbs kneading tenderly into muscle.

You're practically purring once he's done with your left leg. Suguru eases it back into the steaming bathwater and rinses you off with sweeping strokes of his broad hand until the jasmine-scented suds melt into the surface. Then, without breaking the tranquil rhythm you'd both settled into, he gathers your right leg in his grasp and starts anew from your foot upward, every motion as meticulous as the last.

You don't startle an inch when Satoru picks his task up again whilst Suguru works his soothing magic up your shin. Circles that bloom sweetness through your body are drawn into your scalp with the pads of Satoru's fingertips, thumbs gliding behind your ears before sweeping upward along your crown, coaxing the rich lather deeper through your roots.

His fingertips dance across your hair in broad, enthusiastic circles, working the shampoo in with enough vigor to make your head tip slightly. It's embarrassingly effective in making you lose track of where one minute ends and another begins. The little remaining tension loosens from your body like water through a sieve.

"Oh my godddd," you moan, blissful, completely swept up in their pampering that comes without a price. You melt between Satoru and Suguru without thinking, trusting the secure cradle of their bodies as completely as breathing itself. "This is exactly what I needed. This is heaven."

"You deserve only good things, especially tonight," Suguru murmurs affectionately, gently dunking your right leg and rinsing that one off, too.

"All the time, really," Satoru agrees. He leaves your hair once he's sure each strand is thoroughly lathered up. "Seeing you turn into a cute little puddle is the best bonus I could ask for. Just let us take care of you, yeah?"

He returns to you with a wooden rinse pitcher that Suguru hands to him. He cups warm bathwater into it, stray droplets sprinkling across the bath's surface when he pulls the pitcher free with an audible gulp of water. Anticipating what follows, you tip your head back and stay still as Satoru pours the first cascade of water over your head to cleanse you of the fragrant foam, his free hand shielding your forehead to keep it from spilling over your face.

"You wanna know a neat trick I thought of?" Satoru asks, voice overflowing with prideful excitement. You and Suguru rumble low noises from your throats at the same time, encouraging. "If Blue allows me to pull buildings apart at minimum output by drawing everything towards the impossibility, then it makes sense that if I put the tiiiiniest possible output into Blue—" you feel a tempered spike of cursed energy that makes the dampened hair at your nape prick to attention, "—the field of attraction is weak enough that I can siphon water from hair."

Before the dirtied water can rejoin the pooling bathwater lapping over you all, it peels from your hair like a clean, satisfying strip of tape as though the laws of nature, too, submit to the wonder that is Gojo Satoru.

You feel each saturated lock of hair lighten by degrees more than you see it. Suspended at your sides where you can spy it from the corner of yout eye, the extracted water gathers into a lazily revolving sphere no larger than a melon, pale with diluted shampoo that swirls in pearlescent ribbons beneath the bathroom's amber light. You can tell that Satoru's flicked his fingers behind you when it all goes gliding into a bucket by the tub— he probably thought to put it there in advance, you realize— with a muffled sploosh. Suguru whistles, impressed.

"There!" Satoru chirps, grin crystal-clear in his voice as though he'd unveiled the world's greatest scientific breakthrough instead of an absurdly overengineered bath hack using one of the greatest cursed techniques in history. "No gross rinse water in the tub."

"That was cool, Toru," you gush.

Suguru's laugh slips free in a quiet puff. "Good idea, baby."

The dual praise has Satoru radiating like an overjoyed sun behind you. "Right? Right?" He boasts with no modesty whatsover, chest jutting proudly against your back.

"You'll have to do that for my hair sometime, too," Suguru sighs longingly, tilting his head with a charmed look on his face. He's so cute. "I could use one of my curses, but Blue'll save me so much time. My hair's getting even longer than it already is, if you can imagine."

"Please never cut it," you and Satoru pipe up in genuine agony.

Suguru titters, enchanting brown eyes creasing in a blinding smile, brighter somehow for it. "Relax, you two. I won't. Aside from trimming split ends— knock on wood." He raps the wooden bath tray with his knuckles.

The exchange coaxes an involuntary smile of your own, the stretch of your lips so overly fond that your cheeks ache. It is so wonderfully, unmistakably the three of you— Suguru's easy indulgement forever balanced alongside Satoru's irrepressible enthusiasm and your habit of matching them both exactly where they stand.

Suguru re-lathers his hands to work on your abdomen, muscles fluttering in delicate butterly wings behind the bountiful garden of your skin at the ticklish feeling of his slickened touch; Satoru ladles another pitcherful over your head and repeats the process of gathering and discarding every soapy drop with Blue. Suguru glides soap up the valley between your perked breasts and beneath them as well, even massaging your tits without a lick of sexual intent; Satoru gives you one last rinse before passing curious fingers through your hair until the strands slide cleanly through his hands, gently teasing apart the few stubborn knots left over. The bathwater gently rocks against your ribs whenever they both shift, focused on their individual tasks but nonetheless in tune with one another.

By the time Suguru finishes off your front by washing your collarbones and shoulders and Satoru's just teased apart the few stubborn knots left over in your hair, your hair hangs sleek and impossibly clean, you're feeling squeaky clean from head to toe, and the bathwater around your bodies remains as clear as when you'd first slipped into it, aside from the body wash that's sluiced off of you.

You feel as though they’d somehow washed away not only the day's sweat and oils, but every bothersome thought that had settled there alongside them. You could seriously fall asleep any second without realizing you'd slipped into unconsciousness.

"Look at us working together in sync," Satoru lilts, signaling for the conditioner over your shoulder. Suguru hands it off from the bath tray without missing a beat. "The G.G. Salon is taking off."

"G.G.?" You ask, faint laughter already bubbling through your nose before he even elaborates. You're anticipating something so stupid that it's somehow funny.

"Get gucked," Satoru supplies, only to shriek a soprano's pitch and jackknife his leg through the water when Suguru aggressively pinches Satoru's big toe. "Yeesh, can't a guy joke around here? I meant the Gojo-Geto salon."

Suguru smiles serenely.

They make quick— but not rushed— work of the rest of your treatment. Suguru reaches between yours and Satoru's bodies to bathe your back while Satoru conditions the ends of your hair with the creamy fixture.

Clearing your hair of conditioner after it soaks in is easy as it was for Satoru with the shampoo. He splashes water along your back to finish off Suguru's work, and Suguru leans in to nuzzle a brief kiss against your forehead, lips lingering for only a second before he settles back against the tub's rim again, the picture of handsome relaxation. A moment later, Satoru cranes his head to smooch the side of your neck as if unwilling to be left out, then ducks past you to peck Suguru's mouth.

No words are needed in the wakeful peace that draws a curtain over you; you, Satoru, and Suguru seemingly come to a silent agreement to soak in the jasmine-fermented bath a while longer, all of yours eyes closed in bone-deep gratification. Heat loosens muscles and peels the firm grip of old aches and pains stemming from battles old and new, determined to ease your bodies that've been carved out from years and years of sorcerery. You only clamber out when the bathwater is cool enough to be drained, yours and Satoru's and Suguru's fingers and toes pruny from the extended soak.

The tired little shiver that quakes you when the air hits your damp skin is noticed immediately by Suguru, who quietly directs Satoru to empty the bucket of dirtied water down the tub before turning to you with towels straight from the tower warmer. He wraps one loosely around your hair and gently squeezes away the excess water.

His sweetened cooing of how cute you are when you're all sleepy and doted-on makes you duck your head into his touch if only to hide your face from the loving searchlights of his eyes. You allow Suguru to similarly wrap your body up in a second towel and you gleefully burrow into the fluffy comfort of it.

Satoru zips to your side in literal seconds with two more towels bunched under his arm, blue eyes alight and completely comfortable in his nudity. "My turn," he announces.

"Didn't you have plenty of turns in the bath?" Suguru amusedly points out in a lowered tone. "She's already dried off, anyways."

Satoru pokes his pretty pink lips out in a pout, sulky as a cat denied its dinner. "I want another."

"You always want another," you hum, eyes half-closed and about ready to conk out on the tile of all places. A plane could crash outside and you wouldn't even be fazed, your mind too up in the clouds and doped up on the princess treatment your boyfriends gave you to care.

“Well, I like taking care of you both,” Satoru admits with some sheepishness, scratching his shorn-short nape that you're sure is soon to be warmed pink as you and Suguru look at him with hearts for eyes. "Can't blame a guy for being in love, yeah?"

You really can't; not when you're just as stupidly infatuated with them both. Especially when, adorably, he surprises you both by turning to Suguru and toweling him off with great attention, making your dark-haired partner flush an even ruddier red than the hot water gave his body. For all of Satoru's impossible strength and impossible speed, his hands fuss with deliberate care as they work the plush fabric around Suguru's waist, folding one edge neatly over the other before tucking it securely against his hip. Then Satoru guides a stray bang that fell loose from his bun behind his ear, fingers lingering sweetly.

Suguru blinks once, twice, as though momentarily caught off guard by the simple gesture. "... Thank you, Satoruuu,” he purrs warmly.

The words are accompanied by a smile so soft it melts years off of Suguru's face, leaving behind only the boy who'd once looked at you and Satoru with that same impossible tenderness after late-night konbini store runs and shared umbrellas beneath summer rain as you all ran back to campus after shared misions— long, long before that accursed village sent him into a year-long spiral. Affection settles visibly into every elegant line of him, warming his browned eyes until they resemble polished amber.

Color rushes into Satoru's ears as he's blasted with the full superlunary rays of Suguru's love, almost shying away from his exuberant beam. "Don't mention it," he mutters, already smiling despite himself as he finally slings his own towel around his hips.

A laugh escapes you before you can stop it, sleepy and airy, and both pairs of eyes snap toward you with such immediate fondness. Your heart gives such a smitten start that it damn near ping-pongs off your ribs.

And then you open your unfiltered mouth, "You're both so cute. You two act like you guys haven't explored each other's holes for literal years."

Their expressions slacken into ones of pained amusement immediately. "Sweets, I love you so so sooo bad, but do you ever think before you reduce years of heartfelt intimacy to digging out each other's asses?" Satoru snorts.

"Please don't say it like that," Suguru bemoans, propping one hand on his towel-wrapped hip while the other drives a thumb into his creased forehead. Even so, he's openly snickering, even moreso when he slaps Satoru's chest. "Are you under the impression that you're any better?"

Satoru touches his heart with theatrical offense. "I've never said anything outrageous as her."

"You literally just did?" Suguru points out, exasperatedly tickled.

You attempt to muster a joke to chip in with, but a yawn stretches your jaw instead, eyes watering as exhaustion overtakes any dignity you might have had left.

"Awww," Satoru breathes out an impossibly stricken coo. "She's gonna fall asleep standing up like a horse."

"I was thinking the same thing," Suguru murmurs, tilting his head at you.

"I am awake and alert and alive," you mumble automatically.

Clearly, neither of them believes you for even half a second. Suguru chuckles beneath his breath before stepping forward, large hand finding the small of your back through the towel. "Looks like the delirium's getting to you, huh, angel? You've had a long day."

Satoru immediately appears at your other side. "For sure. Let's go get dressed and go to bed." Without ceremony, he bends his knees and scoops you into his arms bridal-style as though you weigh nothing at all. You let out the weakest little noise of surprise imaginable before instinctively curling against his warm chest, your cheek finding the familiar place beneath his collarbone.

"I c-can…" Your own yawn slashes the sentence in half, making Satoru throw his head back laughing as he turns towards the bathroom's entrance, "… walk."

"Oh, sweetheart," Suguru rumbles out a laugh.

"I can,” you grumble.

"You just lost consciousness mid-sentence."

"Mmmf," you say intelligently.

Suguru reaches over to straighten the towel atop your head one final time, brushing his knuckles fondly across your temple. "So spoiled," he whispers.

You hum contentedly, already halfway to sleep. "Your fault."

"Our fault," Satoru corrects, carrying you toward the door with Suguru walking beside him, shoulder brushing his every few steps. Then, as an aside to Suguru, "To be fair, we kinda made her expect this."

"I think I deserve princess treatment everyday," you exhaustedly pipe up, words dragging as you gradually drift off.

Satoru and Suguru exchange looks over your lolling head. So cute.

“FUCK!” You scream, hitting the steering wheel. One, you were stuck on a long road with no houses in view. Two, the sun was starting to set. Three, you didn’t know shit about cars. Naturally you step out of the car to call your father. It took about two rings before his thick accent filled your ears.

“What’s up, sweat pea? You outside?”

“Dadddyyy…” your sobs loud in his ear.

“Ah shit- what’s wrong baby?”

“My car died!” You sniffle, “And m’stuck on this stinky ass road and there’s no houses and daddy she’s dead!”

“Alright, alright calm down. The car’s not dead, silly girl. Gonna have to take a look at it. How far you out?”

“Like…I don’t know. Maybe thirty minutes?” You wipe your eyes, looking into your mirror to make sure you didn’t mess up your blush.

“Alright sweet pea, you stay right there m’gonna give some guys a call to come pick you up.”

“But what about Serenity?” You’ve had your car since your eighteenth birthday. Your dad tended to spoil you, being his only daughter, it was only right.

He sighs, “You named that dang car Serenity?”

“Mhm!”

“Tch, Serenity,” He grumbles, making you giggle, “Alright, sweet pea you hang on tight. Got some guys comin’.”

Then phone clicks as you hang up, a tired sigh leaving your lips. This was the worst, maybe even the worst day of your life. You loved your father, but you didn’t like being in the country too much. There were fields for miles, cows all around that stunk, deers that you had to be cautious of, and worst of all: bugs. You hated bugs, and you absolutely afraid of them. Even as a child, you’d scream whenever a wasp flew by or you started crying whenever a fly would graze just your arm.

Moving to the city for college was a breath of fresh air, in a way. The environmental shift making you happy. You enjoyed every bit of it, but you were your daddy’s daughter, so of course you stayed with him every now and then.

Except your car just died. Maybe you were a bit dramatic, as your father calls it, but what else could you do? You didn’t know shit about cars.

You sigh softly, stepping out of the pink vehicle to sit on the back of it and watch the sunset. The heels of your boots clicking against the ground. It was…pretty. That’s one thing you couldn’t disagree with when it came to being in the country. It was beautiful. The landscape, nature, and getting to see the sunset in its fullest without any buildings blocking it. You were sitting on the back of your car for at least thirty minutes before you hear the engine of another.

A black truck parks in front of your pink car. You get off of its hood, watching as two big guys step out, the clack of their cowboy boots reminding you of where you were. Oh.. You pause in your steps as the doors close. They were wearing matching cowboy hats, but you could see the white of one’s hair and the long dark hair of the other.

“Got the tool box, ‘Toru?”

“Course I do.” Toru answers. You watch as he jogs around to the open back of the truck, hitching one foot up on the thick tire to grab the large tool box. The other takes his hat off, a smile on his pretty face as he walks towards you. “ ‘Scuse me Angel, you Y/D/N’s kid?”

Nodding slowly, your eyes run over his large frame. Tall, long hair, and he had ear gauges. There’s a piercing that ran through the left side of his lip, and one in the opposite eyebrow. Three of the buttons on his shirt were open, his chest exposed with a tattoo peeking out from his chest. He extended his hand out to you, his sleeves rolled up just a bit, exposing another tattoo on his arm. You hesitate, your pretty eyes staring right into his dark ones that were already fixtures on you.

“Scared? I don’t bite too hard.” He winks. Your soft hand shakes his rough one before he pulls back. “Suguru. Came here to save you.”

“Nd this must be Serenity.” The man called ‘Toru’ pops up behind Suguru with a laugh as he tapped the hood of your car. ‘Toru’ was a bit taller than Suguru with a head full of white hair. His eyes were the bluest ‘blue’ you’d ever seen, and you didn’t see any visible tattoos or piercings, just old faded scars that littered the bottom part of his face.

“Yeah…she’s my baby. I hope you can fix her.” You glance at the car with a sigh while to two men give each other a small look before Suguru steps around to the hood.

“Nice to meet you baby. Name’s Satoru, but y’can call me whatever you want sweetheart.” He extends his hand towards you, more scars on his sun-kissed skin. Butterflies. You place your hand in his, but instead of shaking it Satoru brings it up to his lips, kissing your soft skin. “Mm mm mm, y’smell good sweetheart.”

“Thank you-“

“Toru.” Suguru huffs. Satoru winks down at you before walking over to join Suguru. They exchange a few words before Satoru bursts into laughter. You stand awkwardly, tapping your boot against the ground.

They seemed like good people. Your dad wouldn’t have sent them if he thought otherwise. He’d never put you in danger.

You step around the car as Suguru beckons you forward with two fingers. “Yes?”

“Do me a favor Angel and get in the car real quick. Wanna see what’s going on under this hood.” He taps it with a smirk, tilting his head. “Can you do that for me?” And for some reason your stomach fluttered once again.

“Y-Yeah..” you clear your throat. It didn’t help that they were gorgeous as well. You open the car door and get in, staring up at Suguru as he nods. “Alrighty, now pull that lever down there.”

You frown as you look down around your car. “Lever?” Satoru folds his arms as he leans on the car, nodding. “Yeah sweetheart, should have a lil’ car on it with its hood up.” After looking around for a bit, the two men watch as your face lights up.

“I found it!”

“Atta girl, now be a sweetheart for me nd’ pull til it pops.” You could’ve sworn you heard Satoru purr, but you do as he says, flinching at the little pop ! before Suguru pops the hood open. “Thank you Angel baby, now go sit in the truck and wait for us alright?”

Every little command had you buzzing, your body tense. Two pairs of eyes set on you as you got out, leaning over the middle set to grab your purse from the passenger side floor. You also don’t miss the whistle that leaves Satoru’s mouth, and you remind yourself of the micro shorts you were wearing.

The ride back to your father’s house was…interesting. You learn that Satoru and Suguru were good friends of your father. Satoru’s family lived just a few houses down from your dad’s house before they all moved away, leaving Satoru the house. Satoru’s father and your father were good friends, so your dad looks out for him. Since your dad stays alone, Satoru visits often alongside Suguru who’s been best friends with the white haired man since they were kids. You also learned that your dad talks about you a lot.

It was dark when your father’s house came into view, the older man standing there on the porch. You were out of the truck before it even stopped, running towards him. “Daddy!”

“There’s my Sweet Pea.” He hugs you tightly before kissing your forehead. “She ain’t give yall any trouble did she?”

You scoff, watching the two men jump out of the truck laughing. “Damn near filled the truck with tears when poor ol’ Serenity got picked up by the tow truck.” Suguru smirks, your duffel bag swinging in his arms while Satoru carried your purse.

You felt your face warming as you turned away from them. Your father pats their shoulders with a laugh. “Baby’s always been a crybaby.” He moved past you to open the front door. “Hope yall hungry, I cooked.” The smell of sweet potatoes and cornbread fill your nose, your stomach growling.

“Good. Feel like I can eat a whole horse.” Satoru rubs his stomach, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. “Y’Know your daddy’s the best cook ever sweetheart?” The giggles that left you sounding like heaven to the man, smile forming on his lips while you all walked in.

“Sweet Pea where the hell ya clothes at girl? Don’t see nothing but legs.” Your dad calls behind you as Satoru drags you off to the kitchen.

“They’re micro shorts daddy!”

“Yeah they’re micro alright!” He grumbles, Suguru’s laughter trailing behind him.

-

You were the first to finish up your father’s long awaited dinner, leaving a sweet “goodnight” to your father and the other two. Tummy full as you walked upstairs to your room. It will always be your room. Walls decorated with old posters and new, you always added to the room whenever you’d visit. Your desk cluttered with trinkets. The walls a sweet baby pink like your car. Even though you brought clothes and such, you already had all of those things waiting for you in the closet as you’d left them.

The warm shower felt like heaven. You hum softly, listening to the water hit the surface of the tub, the bathroom fogging. What a fucking day. Your car dying, being saved by two very hot guys who just so happened to flirt with you. They were flirting right? Your brows furrow curiously. They had to be, Satoru kissed your hand- and the random nicknames. You knew it was a common thing in the country but fuck it sounded sexy rolling off of their tongues.

Your nipples harden, Suguru’s “Angel” replaying in your head. Was it so wrong to think about them in that way? Your dings said no, thumbs flicking the hard nub of your pierced nipples, biting down softly on your lip to suppress the moan that threatened to spill.

“Sweetheart.” Your pussy clenches at the thought of Satoru, pinching at your nipples. The water running down your hot flustered body. “Fuck this is so wrong.” You whimper, fingers dipping between your legs. The difference between the water and your slick making you moan. You gather the slick, rubbing over the sensitive pearl of your clit, head tilting back slightly as your eyes closed. Stuttering hips rocked forwards to your fingers— and fuck it had been so long since you touched your pretty pussy.

If only you were in your room you could grab your vibrator—

Knock Knock Knock

You freeze, looking towards the bathroom door through the foggy glass of your sliding shower door. You turn the water off, frowning because you knew damn well your dad didn’t come upstairs when you were home. The shower door slides open as you rush to wrap the large pink dry towel around your body. “J-Just a moment please-“

“City Mouse you in there?”

You pause again, staring at the door. The immediate silence making the person on the other side of the door chuckle. “I can wait don’t worry baby.” You swallow thickly, and you hated how you couldn’t tell who was talking by how loudly your heart was beating — City Mouse?!

Once you were done drying off, you take off the plastic shower cap and substituted it for your bonnet. Your skin smooth and moisturized, clean. You open the door with the towel wrapped tightly around your body, clothes in hand. The man on the other side leaning against your room door that was only a step away.

“Suguru?” You squeak, his eyes landing on you, trailing down to your slippers and back up to your flushed face.

You note that his outfit was entirely different from earlier. Simple sweatpants and a tank top. More tattoos littered his shoulder. His hair loosely falling around his shoulders. “Did I scare you?” He chuckles. You rolls your eyes, “Just a little.”

“Awww, I’m sorry baby.” you could smell the sarcasm off his breathe.

He coos, stepping out of the way for you to walk into your room— only for him to stop you in your tracks. “Wha-“ He leans down towards your neck, so close. He takes a deep breath, releasing a small, deep groan. “Smell good, City Mouse.” Smirk on his face once he lets you pass, leaning against your door frame as he watched you toss the dirty clothes into your hamper. Sleeping clothes sprawled out across your bed. Tank top and shorts, no panties.

“I-If you’ll just give me a sec Suguru I won’t be long..” He closes the door for you, a heavy breath leaving your chest as you dropped the towel from your body, hands coming up to cover your moisturized face. Fuck fuck fuck he’s right there- behind the door- and I just touched myself to his voice.

And he smelled so fucking good. You didn’t pay attention to it earlier but the scent stuck to your nose like a blanket. He was dripping in appeal.

You quickly got dressed, tossing the towel in your hamper before shoving it back in your closet. Is my room decent? You swallow, looking around the neat space before nodding. The door opens to the man still standing there, dark eyes staring down at you— your piercings saying hello to him through the shirt. He turns away, coughing as he entered your room.

“Got it smellin’ like a bakery in here City Mouse.” He takes a seat on your bed, legs spreading just a bit as he watched you fiddle with your fingers nervously by the door. “Nervous?”

Yes. You were. and horny. “City Mouse…what happened to Angel?” Suguru’s smirk only grows more. His hand pats his lap as Suguru leans back just a bit, “Cmere…told you I don’t bite too hard didn’t I?”

Suguru watches in amusement while you close the door. Your nervous feet carries you between his legs, his welcoming arms beckoning you into them. “Atta girl.” He licks his lips and you swear your pussy jumps for joy at the sight of the metal ball on his tongue. You sit down on one of his legs, throwing your legs on his other one. His face leans into your neck again, taking a deeeep sniff before he sighs. “Smell good City Mouse.”

Your body hot, his tone suddenly lower as he looks up at you. “You wanna be called Angel, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes..” It comes out into a broken whimper, one hand wrapping around your waist while the other cradled your legs.

“I can do that, Angel.” Your bare cunt throbs against your shorts. Shifting slightly in his lap, your eyes never leaving his. “Are you staying the night Suguru?”

“Mmmmhm.” He hums, eyes fluttering shut the moment your fingers entangle themselves into his hair. Soft, clean, thick. “Is this alright? I’m sorry it was so temping-“ Your hair’s gorgeous.

“It’s alright sweet girl. Feels good.” He hums, pulling your body in closer. “Is this okay? Me touchin’ you?”

“Yes…it’s fine.” Touch me more.

So caught up in the moment you swallow in the beautiful silence in the air that you suddenly thought of Suguru’s other half-

“Where’s Satoru?”

One of his eyes peeks open at you, “Went home. He jus’ stays a few houses down.,.why? Want em here too?” His knee bounces you, hand squeezing your hip. “He might get jealous.”

“I was just curious is all.” You whisper. Fingers running through his hair, grazing his scalp and tugging ever so gently. The adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as Suguru’s lips part. You bite your lip, maybe if you just… tug.

“Fuck..” It was low, very low, but you heard it. His hand squeezing your hip harder.

“I-…Do you live close by Suguru?” Calloused fingers rub the soft skin of your thighs. his knee bouncing you again. “Mhm, more closer to town though. M’usually jus’ here watchin’ over your daddy. Strong man but he’s old y’know?”

That warms your heart. While you talked to your dad all of the time, the drive back to your apartment in the city took so long to go home every weekend from college. “Thank you, Suguru.” You smile, his smile mirroring yours as you tug softly on his hair again. His hand squeezes your thigh, “ ‘Course Angel. Your daddy’s amazin’. Me and ‘Toru would do jus’ about anythin’ for em.”

“I guess I’ll have to thank Satoru tomorrow.” You shift again on his leg.

“Gonna thank me tonight, Angel?” Another tug to his hair gives you a deep groan from Suguru. “Careful now..”

“…or what?” You whisper.

His eyes peel open, the hand on your thigh reaching to grab your chin, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. His eyes flicker from yours, to your lips, back up to your eyes, the question lingering in the silence you shared. You nod slowly, leaning in to brush your lips against his.

Suguru respected your father. Your father was like, well- a father to him. Suguru was only a few years older than you, a whopping 26. He came over and helped your dad cook and clean, helping him with his long-ran truck driving business, he even stayed over every now and then.

Suguru also knew that despite your dad being an old man, he was a tough cookie who was protective of his family. He considered Suguru to be family just as he did Satoru, but the long haired male knew that if your father were to ever catch him like this with you…he’d be a dead, dead man.

“That’s it Angel…Good fuckin girl, ride that dick-“

Suguru silenced you the best that he could, his hand around your throat. Your hips slamming down on his biiiig cock that stretched your lil’ sloppy pussy. “Takin’ it so good f’me.” His rough hand giving your ass a loud smack ! that has your pussy clenching around the thick base of his cock.

“M’fuck S—Suguru-!” Helpless little whimpers spilled from that pretty mouth of yours. Pretty Suguru laid on his back on your bed, his hair sprawled out against your pretty pink sheets, a sweaty moaning mess you made out of him. Suguru truly underestimated you.

You sit fully on his cock, your hips swaying back and forth, his big cock brushing that sensitive spot inside of you as your sloppy pussy loudly squelched, your messy juices running down the length of his cock. “Mhm. Feels good don’t it?”

“Y-Yes! So good Suguru.” Your head tilts back, his hand giving your neck a small squeeze that sends a shiver down your body. His mouth watered at your swollen nipples, piercings up and at attention from how much he sucked on them, flicking the metal on his tongue against them.

His thick cock splitting you open, fingers leaving small dents into your hips as you gasp, placing your hands on his chest. “So fucking good Suguru…” You whimper, hips starting to bounce again. Sweet eyes filling with pleasure filled tears while your mouth parts.

Suguru hisses, staring right at the bulge in your stomach every time your hips slammed down. “Fuck girl- sh-shit slow down.”

“Can’t stop— ohhhh fuck nghhh.”

“Y’daddy’ll kill me if he knew i was— Fuck Angel baby— he’ll kill me if he knew I was f-fuckin you.” Suguru’s hips buck into you, another loud whimper leaving your throat. “You like that don’t you? You a lil’ slut City Girl?” Tears slipped from your eyes, answering in heavy pants, nails digging into his chest while he lands another hard smack !

“Answer me baby.”

“W-Will be if you w— want me to-“

“Fuckin’ a man y’jus met today, naughty girl Angel.”

“You like it.”

“I love it baby.”

Suguru’s moans filled your ears as the warm tears slipped down your cheeks. Your ass recoiled with every warm hug of your pussy milking his cock while you rode him. And Suguru- the pretty boy lying beneath you blushing, watching the milky white ring around his cock get bigger, sticky strings connecting your juices. “So fuckin’ wet. All this for me baby?”

You let out a quiet whine, body leaning over him, your breast jiggling right above his pierced lip. He sticks his tongue out, cocky smile on hjs face. “Feel you squeezin’ round me baby. My pretty girl’s about to cum ain’t she?”

Nodding your head, your eyes shut tightly. “Gonna cum Suguru— fuck right there…” Your legs tired and sore, your movements slowing down while you humped against him. “I gotcha, Angel.” He coos in your ear, your head laying limp on his shoulder, lips instantly sucking on the skin beneath his ear. Feet planted on the bed, Suguru begins to fuck into you. Hips buckling into your welcoming heat. Your pussy squeezes against his hard- deep thrusts. So deep you felt him alllll the way to your belly button.

You were so glad your father’s room wasn’t directly below yours, and that he was a heavy sleeper.

“Suguru-“ You gasp, nails scratching at his skin. His hand smacks your ass again, grabbing a handful and spreading you open. Your juices trickle down those pretty veins lining the underside of his cock. “Say it again baby.” He moans, that heat pooling in the both did your stomachs. Suguru’s bangs begin sticking to his forehead.

“Suguru!” He felt so deep inside of you, and you questioned whether this was real. His cock pounding into you with no remorse, except for the loud moans he held back. “ah- hah fuck- ‘gin baby—“

You lift your head just a bit, hand grabbing at his chin, Suguru’s heart thumping out of his chest. You were the prettiest lil’ thing he’s done seen in a good, good minute. “M’so full Suguru,” You gasp. Every moan, every expression- Suguru took it all in, cock twitching violently inside of you. “You’re gonna make me cum..” You whimper, and Suguru just looses it.

“B-Baby wait- fuck! Got- ah—! Gotta pull out-“ You grab his chin, your lips a whisper over his “Fill me up Suguru.”

His lips moved against yours- melted into yours. The last of his thrusts sloppy as your pussy clamped down onto him as you orgasmed. The waves crashing down through you as you shuddered, his tongue flicking over yours. The warmth of his seed planting deep into your womb, your hips rocking against him pathetically.

After a short while of sloppily kissing, your breaths panting together, Suguru lifts your hips to pull out. “Easy now..” He whispers, your head tucking into his neck as you gasp at the loss, a loud squelch leaving your pussy when you squeezed around nothing, his warm seed spilling.

You shudder, yawning as he pulled the covers over your bodies. “Suguru?”

“Hm?” His eyes closed, chest rising and falling. His warm hands wrap around your waist, adjusting you to a more comfortable position. “What did you want? Figured you didn’t come up here to fuck me.”

You feel the vibrations of his laughter through his chest, “I didn’t. Was jus’ commin’ to tell you goodnight .” You said nothing else after that, yawning as your eyes fluttered shut

-

The smell of biscuits woke you up the next morning. You groan into your pillow—? as your body stretches in the empty bed. “Suguru?” You frown, eyes opening and quickly closing at the bright daylight shining through your window.

You were rolled up in your sheets, alone. Your eyes open back up and you glance around your room. He was really gone, or perhaps just downstairs. You get out of bed with a slight tremble to your legs, moving slowly across the room to go shower.

This time there was so Suguru to stop you while you were wrapped in your towel. The discarded shorts from last night folded neatly in your desk chair. You yawn, opening up your drawer for a pair of panties when a knock at your door has you pausing.

“You up sweetheart?” Satoru. What the hell was their deal with catching you as soon as you get out of the shower? Still, you open the door after throwing on a random large shirt that went pretty far down your body and your panties.

“Satoru!” You smile, opening the door to the large man nearly as tall as your door frame. He gives you a surprised smile back, looking down at the shirt swallowing you whole. “Hey there City Mouse. Comin’ to see if you were up for breakfast.”

“Did you both just collectively decide to call me City Mouse?” You groan, mind drifting back to Suguru last night. Suguru… You look away from Satoru towards the mess of your covers on your bed. He hums, looking towards it before his eyes shift back to your body, large shirt slightly revealing the dark red spot at the top of your chest.

“Mhm, thought it was funny. You must’ve spoke to Suguru before bed?” He smirks, watching as your feet shifting nervously. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” His voice soft, leaning down to graze your chin with his fingers. Satoru lifts your chin up to meet your shy gaze.

“Let’s go eat, hm?”

Your legs felt like jelly. Satoru waited until you put on a sweater and shorts before he trailed carefully behind you down the steps, watching as you trembled slightly with every little step.

“Morning Sweat Pea.” You dad kisses the top of your forehead, handing you a plate full of food. “How you sleep?”

“How you sleep? Didn’t give Suguru any trouble last night did you?” You spare the long haired man a glance as you sat down at the table right next to him. Suguru on your right, Satoru across from you, and your dad next to Satoru. “I slept good daddy, no troubles at all.”

Suguru chuckles while leaning over to place a fork next to your plate. You flinch just a bit as his hand grazes your thigh, oblivious to the blue eyes staring at you, “She did jus’ fine.” He hums. Your father just lights up. You watch as the three conversate, your dad found Satoru to be hilarious. The both of them loud and filling up the dining room. You realized you had no idea what the hell they were talking about either as you ate your food quietly.

You peek over at Suguru who was surprisingly already sparing you a glance. He smiles softly, fingers rubbing your thigh, “Doin’ alright Angel?” He winks, your face heating as you nod. “M-Mhm..”

“Gonna stop by the store later t’get you um…somthin’.” His hand squeezes your thigh and you stare at him in confusion before the realization hits you- He came inside of you. “U-Unless you’re takin uh-“

“I’m not…..thank you in advance Suguru.” You turn back to your breakfast, humming softly as you finally put take the fresh goodness of the biscuit. “ ‘Course baby.” He murmurs. Satoru takes a sip of his drink, watching you carefully. As if by fate (funny enough), your father’s phone rings.

Breakfast is cut short once you see him get up, “I’ll be back a bit later chaps. Gotta head to town for a bit to check on m’truck. Suguru can y’drive me there?”

The man nods, standing up quickly to finish the last of his eggs. “Be right back Sweet Pea-“ he points a finger at Satoru, “don’t let nothin’ happen to my baby.” He said it in a joking way but you and Satoru both knew he was dead serious. You smile, waving him off. “I’m fine daddy go get your truck.”

Being left alone with Satoru wasn’t so bad. After the table was cleared and cleaned, you ended up walking down to his house alongside him as he yapped.

“It’ll only take ‘bout an hour til they come back. Thirty minutes there, thirty back, but knowin’ your dad he’s probably gonna talk to some folks nd’ Suguru won’t leave unless he does.” You knew it would be longer since the longer haired man had to stop by the store.

You nod alongside him, the large home smelling just as good as he did. You could tell it was a family home. Everything was clean, wood polished, floors swept without a speck of dust.

“And you live alone?” Satoru takes his boots off by the door, and you do the same with your shoes. You trail him slowly into the living room, large tv hanging from the walls. There was a beautiful set placed down- two cozy couches and a recliner. The rug on the floor was the softest you’d ever felt beneath your feet. You watch him plop down onto the recliner, motioning you forward. “Mhm! My folks wanted to be closer to town since my mom’s gettin old. She didn’t wanna have to drive so far just for groceries y’know?”

You shuffle forward, and his arms reach out for you, pulling you into his lap. “Satoru-“

“Don’t worry City Girl, l’ll take goood care of ya’.” His arms wrap around your body as the chair rocked. “Mmmm not many sittin’ positions for two in this thing.” You could hear the smirk on his face while you fixed your legs to be on either side of his hips. “Sweetheart, it alright if I touch you more?”

“I’m already straddling you Satoru.”

“Just bein’ courteous.” His hands found a comfortable spot on your hips as you stared down at him. You found him to be so pretty. Those blue eyes resting behind pretty white lashes that matched his hair. His rough hands felt soft on your skin, his thick fingers sliding up the legs of your shorts. “This okay?” He murmurs. Your arms wrap around his neck, as you nod.

“It’s alright..” Your lips ghost over his, his sneaky fingers slipping underneath the lace of your panties. “s’pretty sweetheart..” Satoru pulls you into closer, his lips smashing into yours.

He was surprisingly very gentle with you. You expected roughness and impatience from Satoru, wanting to fuck through the shame of having only meeting him yesterday- well, you also fucked Suguru yesterday, and they were friends of your much older father.

The way Satoru kisses you gently, his lips biting down softly on your lips while his fingers traced over that wet spot in your panties— you felt like you were going insane while he teased you. It felt almost similar to Suguru— almost !

Until Satoru had you holding your knees up until they touched your pierced nipples, his hand around your throat while he landed a mean smack ! to your gaping pussy.

“Gonna kill that fucker. Who told em he could touch you before me, hm? His eyes filled with lust and annoyance, your pussy twitched while he rubbed your sensitive clit side to side, your slick waiting for him to take a dip in.

“S-Satoru—“ you gasp, head tilting back onto the soft pillows of his king sized bed. “That’s right sweet girl. Want you moanin’ my name.”

Your nails dig into the underside of your thighs, the hand around your neck squeezing tighter. “Couldn’t wait on me?” His eyes flicker up to you, locking with yours before he smirks.

“Answer me.” He gathers your sticky mess before one of his fingers push right into the warmth of your dripping pussy.

“I-I—“ Another finger slips in. Satoru raises a brow, “Go on, spit it out baby.” The fingers thrust inside of you fast. You let out a sharp gasp, squeezing your thighs while you moaned.

“Cmon now.” You wince at the stretch of a third finger. Satoru’s hand releases from your throat, his thumb pressing down on your clit as the fingers inside of you curl. The pressure so high in your stomach you could only whimper. “I-mm sorry T-Toru—!”

“No, no, no… don’t apologize sweetheart.” He coos, his fingers thrusting into your deeper, feeling around your gummy walls for that pretty spot inside of you. “You ain’t do nothin’ but take it.” Satoru whispers.

You bite down on your lip as your eyes shut, his thumb caressing your clit with teasing calculated touches. Satoru trying to figure out your body, every reaction you made went straight to the raging bulge in his pants. “Gonna be a good girl nd’ take it for me too?”

“Mm-mhmm-“ Heavy whimpers fall from your lips. Satoru’s fingers felt so deep, so intimate the way he licked his lips staring down at your pussy. The sounds so lewd, so nasty he was testing his patience trying to hold out from fucking you right then nd’ there. “Gonna cum Toru…” Your pretty pussy throbs around the thick fingers.

“Mm mm, can’t have that yet sweet girl.” Satoru pulls his fingers from your sloppy mess, your cream coating the digits. He brings them to his lips, moaning at the taste. “On your stomach sweetheart.”

Satoru was very different from Suguru, not that you were complaining. His actions laced with jealousy and need. Not at the fact that you’ve had sex with Suguru, but the fact that you had sex with Suguru first.

The white haired man wasted no time taking off the rest of his suffocating clothes. His cock the prettiest pink you’d ever seen (a close second to Serenity of course), the tip thick and angry, dripping with precum as it slapped against his abs- earning a small hiss from the man.

You lay flat on your stomach, your head resting on folded arms. Satoru giving his thick cock two longgg wet strokes before hovering cautiously over your back. You were nervous, you felt like a fucking virgin. “Hips up just a lil’ baby…that’s it…good girl.” Your leg raises just a bit, and so does your hip, giving Satoru room to slip his hungry cock between your wet pussy folds. His arm slipping underneath yours to grab your neck again. “S-Satoru-“

“I gotcha sweetheart. Jus’ relax for me so I can fuck you.” He guides his tip to your waiting wet hole, feeling your back arch just a tinge before he’s pressing it in…nice and slow, letting out a shudder breath as your ring sucks him in. “Such a good girl…” His hand squeezes your neck, and in one swift motion his cock plunges into you- hard. Your eyes slam shut, the moan that ripped from your lips filling up the empty bedroom.

The skin of his body felt hot on your back, sweet kisses littering the side of your head. His hips draw back before rutting into you again. In and out, Innnn and out. Long, hard, slow strokes claiming your messy pussy. “Fuck—! Ohhh fuck-“ You whimper, Satoru’s hand holding onto your hip tightly as he found a comfortable rhythm.

The bed creaked steadily underneath you, headboard hitting the way with a thump..thump..thump. You whined beneath Satoru, hands fisting the emerald sheets. “Takin’ me s’good sweetheart- shit…hahfuck m’gonna kill Suguru.”

“I jus’ know he fucked you s-so good.” He smacks your ass, burying himself deep into your womb. “He fill you up too?”

“Mhm….was so full.” That wet string of saliva trailed down your chin, feeling each and every vein of his cock twitch inside of your pussy.

“Naughty girl…your daddy’s gonna kill me.”

-

Suguru knew immediately. In his hands the box of plan B and a sprite while he stared at Satoru’s shirtless frame in the doorway, his brow twitching.

“Y’know I’m gon’ kick your ass Suguru?”

“Shut the fuck up and move before I’m a daddy.”

“He’s gon’ kill us both.” The two men exchanged a glance. Your father trusted them enough for you to be in their company, and you were grown after all. But the point still stands… Your pretty fucked-out body lying across Satoru’s bed as you snore into the soft comforter.

“Think one’s gon’ be ‘nough?”

“Might need two…”

Apollo was powerful, yet Eros was unkind. After he poked and played and had his fun, Apollo left Eros alone in the forest, giving him no mind. He didn't know, however, that the God of Love would prove far more wicked than he had thought.

As with his hurt pride, Eros plucked a few creamy feathers from his wings and prepared two arrows. They were completely different, one creating love, the other banishing it entirely. A savage decision, truly, yet how could a prideful man of Eros's sort leave Apollo without the fruit of his wrath?

So he drew the arrow of love and shot it right through his bones. Letting it seep deep and gravely, spreading the lustful obsession of the most wicked charm. The utterly deadly one, making one obsessed and wretched over the darling of their desires.

Usually, his arrows were meant to strike those who wished to be deeply in love. Yet, as the rage was ravaging Eros's mind, he decided to make Apollo the most obsessed yet unhappy man in the entire world.

As for the other one, meant to banish the love, he shot at the daughter of the River's God.

The most beautiful nymph of all, with a face carved by the waves themselves. A chin utterly kind and cheeks wholly sweet, as eyes carried a gentleness of petals' peppered kisses. A wild birdie she was, basking carefree beneath the searing sun, as she lay and drank and danced without giving a mind to no mankind nor other little divinities. Nothing plagued her cheeky mind, and no worry could ever haunt her velvety forehead.

After all, she was the River God's most precious child, and he allowed her everything, guided by a parent's blissful love.

Her giggle bloomed in the nearby trees, and tender gaze lit the powdery midnight sky. A true beauty of utterly rare sight, so impossible it seemed too not be caught in Apollo's sight!

The God of Sun and Music and Poetry had never been in love. He enjoyed the bodily pleasures rather often, yet had never come upon a thing so deadly and wicked called love.

He knew that Gods and mortals joyed in it with the passion seething in their blood – for there were Hades and his Persephone, Aphrodite and Ares, even Orpheus and Eurydice, too, although it seemed that love of humankind was of a rather cruel sort.

Apollo, or, well, Satoru Gojo, as his true name was, never gave it much thought. The Goddesses and Gods were utterly beautiful, true, yet none of them had ever made his heart race with the swell and tenderness that all the poets wrote of.

He had never felt this tickling pinch his spine, nor the sudden blissful pain puncturing through his heart. No lover had ever bewitched his soul in an almost maddening way, and so he thought that the thing called love was simply not a part of his fate. Even if, that was rather fine too.

And yet… the serpents of fate are wicked.

Another summer evening it was, while Dionysus threw a joyous party as Gods usually liked to do. With wine spilling all over the golden cups and jolly laughter swirling through the tall grasses of the midnight land.

Gods there were of all sorts – trees and rivers and plants, each with loveliest offspring too, joined the grand feast.

It happened thirty moons or so before Eros shot Satoru with an arrow of maddening love. One evening, when the God who devoted his mind to no one set his eyes on… you.

A Goddess? Dearests, no.

As if you were the Goddess, he would fear that Aphrodite, driven by jealousy, would quickly pluck your eyes out. For the moment you entered the banquet held on the hidden beach, where waves rolled in deep foams, and moonlight spilt its cold kisses onto the heavy stones, Satoru needed to hold his breath.

This feeling, which he had read – written – about so often, suddenly bloomed in the swells of his heart. His hand flew towards his chest, crumpling the ivory tunic that covered the sizzling skin. His mind was struck, as if by a trickery spell, making him lose interest in the men and women chirping by his side.

The lyre in his hands felt heavy as he plucked the crystal strings, producing an unpleasant tone. But how could he not, if his eyes were devouring a beauty he'd never seen before?

And that evening, he followed you like a lost pup. With an ocean gaze lingering longer on the swells of your body, wrapped in a flimsy dress, and on your sweet cheeks, giggling foxily as the salty breeze smooched them. The flicker of the candles peppering long tables cast a lovely flame upon your skin, basking it in gold and warmth, as he imagined licking it clean.

Satoru Gojo was a poet too. A God of Poetry, after all, yet his mind was miserably empty whenever he tried to put your beauty into words. No one had ever shone brighter than you, and no giggle forced this weird, foreign feeling to seep through the marrow of his ribcage.

He was always responsible for the music and jolly, while his dearest friend Dionysus spilt the wine into guests' cups. The merry atmosphere tickled him in a pleasant way, and the mere thought of going back to one of his temples with a few little birdies forced a cheeky smile upon his brazen lips.

The women, Goddesses, and little divinities who didn't wish to be smooched by Satoru's muscular arms were indeed few. Yet the nymph who bewitched his mind in the utmost wretched way didn't bestow him with lovely eyes even once.

Dionysus noticed Apollo's frown crumbling, so he jumped to his side with a whisper, "Hm, isn't she your type, my dearest God?"

Satoru glanced at the slyness on Suguru's lips and bit the inside of his soft cheek. "That's the problem. And yet it seems I'm not quite hers."

Suguru pushed a raven lock of his hair back behind his ear, and lavender eyes oogled your giggling body with a slight grin. "Do you wish me to give her a bit of my special wine?"

The special wine was simply spiked with an aphrodisiac. Some Gods loved to use it to heighten their own sexual pleasure, while others too… made the object of their desires a bit mellow. A bit more balmy and sweet, and so Satoru already imagined your body melting beneath his fingers as he held it dearly within his delicate grasp.

Feeding you the special wine would be easy. And yet, Satoru didn't wish to be a bastard.

"Oh, but you are," Suguru chuckled, sensing the thought in his friend's mind. "I don't think there's any God more selfish than you."

Satoru knew it was the truth, for his character was rather… oh well… let's simply say he wasn't known to be the kindest and most lovable pick among the women. The most beautiful one? Surely. The best in offering sexual pleasures? Indeed. Yet he was the most arrogant bastard on the Mountain's peak, and every creature living beneath the Midetarrean sun knew of it far and well.

You most likely knew it too, so that's why the stars bouncing off your eyes did not look his way even for a second.

His head fell against Suguru's shoulder, the heavy wine coating his tongue with a sweet taste. His mind buzzed with a clash of drunken and desperate thoughts, a pulsing desire already flowing like liquid through his veins.

"I want to approach her in a nice way," he muttered, feeling Suguru's body tremble with wicked laughter.

"You can only dream, my God. She had rejected all attempts to woo her. The men and the Gods were rebuffed before they could grasp the weight of her eyes," Suguru hummed, feeling Satoru's head suddenly grow heavy on his shoulder.

"Is it her father's fault?"

Suguru shook his head. "The River God wishes for nothing more than to see his grandchildren's blooming cheeks. It's she who sniffs at all her suitors. After all, she is a virgin huntress, bound by Artemis's chastity laws." Satoru's head grew heavier. "You'd better forget about her, my God."

But how could he! His heart raced for no one but her. And even if she was a virgin beauty, Satoru didn't mind it at all, for he truly believed in the power of his charming soul. The arrogant confidence of the Sun God was truly impossible to dim!

And so that evening, Apollo decided to fulfil your father's deepest wish and become a man worthy of his daughter's hand. The one who would turn the virgin huntress into his most delicate, lovely petal.

At first, he began strolling around the meadows you usually spent your time in. Where the river curved and bent like a serpent's snake, and crystal droplets smooched your body, immersing you deep. You often sat with other sisters, and Satoru would approach you all with his foxed smile, dripping with a few sweetish words about your utter charm.

The other nymphs giggled, blushing gently at the lyricism spilling from his lips, as if the words of the most passionate, heart-throbbing kind were meant for them indeed. They looked at your unfazed face with a sly smile, knowing that their sister would reject Apollo's advances as she did with all her other suitors.

The Sun God knelt on the riverbank, looking down at your naked body hidden beneath the water's gentle swells. He could see nothing but the swell of your breasts, with perked nipples smooched by the river's kisses. You were meant to stay a virgin, true, but no one said you couldn't use the charms of yours to make the men spill miserably right beneath your feet.

So you glanced, for the first time, at God's idyllic face and waved your hand with a soft sigh. "I don't need your courtship, my God. There's nothing you can say that will force my mind to change. And to answer the question you most anticipate – no, I won't marry you."

Other suitors would back away instantly, feeling the intimidating air your glance carried across the lush plains. Your head tilted wickedly, lips curving into a playful beam, as if you knew the wretched state you always left them in.

Because a man's nature was to challenge his luck. Who didn't think that maybe their fate would be to change the virgin's mind? As all of them thought of you as the gentle, timid petal, not knowing that the virgin huntress was indeed a true beast hidden beneath the loveliest female cheeks!

But the Apollo, of course, couldn't be more turned on by your harsh rejection. The truth was that he almost didn't hear a word. No, instead he focused on the way your lips curved into a tricky smile. How crystalline droplets clung to your half-dipped breasts, with liquid sun spilling all over your warm skin. He traced them one by one, dripping from the damp hair and down the chest. His eyes seemed to be enamoured by your heavy gaze, slightly squinted and teasing, as if you already knew that your rejection would pinch his wretched heart.

And so a truthful, "My Goddess, you're ethereally beautiful with this wrath-wrinkle of yours," fell with his deep, obsessed sigh.

The nymphs gasped, covering their lips with gentle hands. Their mingling eyes glanced between your squinted gaze and the God's wretched sigh, as they awaited how this concern would unfold.

"I'm not a Goddess, and I don't need your praise," you said, your voice dripping with disinterest. "Find yourself another muse, my God. There's no need to waste your precious time on a simple nymph."

You bounced off the river's edge and swam to the other one, where the Sun God knelt. With the golden halo smooching his pale cheeks and ivory tunic crumpling on muscular shoulders. Feet clad in long, serpent sandals, golden laurel laying high on frosted head.

You've seen men of his sort, yet he was the first to look down on you with such a wretched gaze. Like a doomed lover, trapped in a circle of unrequited love, as if his heart had never swelled for any beauty but your gentlest soul.

He watched you carefully as you swam his way, unhurriedly, slowly. Water flowed over your body in soft waves, and warm wind shook the sole strings of your hair as it fell.

Your arms rested on the lush grass as you looked up at him through a curtain of wet lashes. "My God, I think it's time for you to go."

Satoru smiled – foxily, slyly, yet truthfully – before his hand reached out to cup your lovely cheek. You quickly pulled back, letting the tips of his fingers only catch a whisper of your soft lips.

His head tilted, a few creamy strands falling loosely over his straight brows. "I don't wish to hurt you, my Goddess." He grabbed the hem of his tunic. "I simply hope you'll grant me a chance."

He was kneeling, propping himself on his toes, as his fingers itched to grab a single lock of yours.

"I won't. I pledged Artemis my virginity. I'm a huntress, not your silly muse. Leave this place, or you'll taste the blood of my arrows."

And these words had indeed been bold, as all three realms of this world knew that no man had been more skilful in archery than Apollo himself.

If anyone else had spoken them in such a daring manner, the wrath of Apollo would bring painful consequences.

Yet when he heard it in this lovely yet viper-like tone of yours, a shiver ran down his spine. His hair stood on end as if electrified, and an ethereal aura smouldering around his figure suddenly intensified.

He wasn't afraid, oh surely no.

But rather, the swelling enamour, pinching his fingertips, washed over his heart. Your wicked personality wasn't an issue of any sort, but rather made the Sun God burn with an unexplainable desire. Heat that seeped down to his loins as he took a whistling breath.

"My Goddess, do you know who you're threatening to?"

You knew, of course, yet the urge to play with his boastful ego suddenly proved stronger than the choice to simply leave him be. You've met men like him before – too proud, too arrogant, the ones who'd never heard the word no. Yet of all you'd rejected, Apollo – Satoru Gojo – was the worst of all.

He was the Sun God, after all, who took satisfaction in the fact that the world, indeed, revolved around him. A personification of vanity and smugness, surpassing even Narcissus's pompous pride.

He knew what spell his wicked beauty cast over the nymph's petal cheeks. He knew the virgin maiden would fall for him most pitiably, needing only a single glance from his lustful eyes. His touch was soft, and his hands roamed over the women's tender bodies in the most loving way, yet never leaving them with the true tenderness that should fill his heart.

Satoru Gojo was a simple scum you wished to have nothing to do with. A cheeky smile tugged at your lips as you rested your arms on the river's edge and lifted half your body out of the water.

He didn't try to hide the ocean gaze, immediately snapping down towards your perked nipples, with crystal droplets dripping down the lush glass. Your head tilted, eyes turning kitty-like, as the blessed kisses of sunshine, of his sun, peppered your wet cheeks.

"To just yet another miserable man," fell almost mockingly, prompting a sudden movement around his hips. You've noticed it, and so you turned your lips into a disgusted grimace. "Go away, my God, and know my mercy. I won't be that nice next time."

You fully lifted yourself from the water, standing next to his kneeling body, naked. His gaze followed up your thighs, the mound of your pussy, the plush of your belly, tracing every crystalline line carving into your body. When it finally met your eyes, his throat bobbed.

"My Goddess, you're truly underestimating my feelings for you."

A scoff slipped past your lips as your eyes rolled. "For the God of Poetry, I expected more flowery words."

And so, ignoring whether he wished to say anything next, you simply passed him by. Going deeper into the woods, leaving the Sun God with nothing but the lingering fragrance of your blooming skin in the air, and the painfully, wickedly wretched pleasure bubbling in his loins.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

You truly thought that he would give up.

That the Sun God, like any other man, wouldn't wish to pursue a woman who looked at him with nothing but a deep scowl between her beautiful brows.

And yet, for the next thirty moons, he always seemed to be there. Somewhere around, following you like a shadow, with eyes and lips and mind always speaking loudly, giving you neither peace nor serenity among the quiet fields of your home.

Whenever you went hunting, his arrows sliced through the air faster than yours, striking the animals and beasts with power that crumbled the heavens themselves, and a gasp always slipped past your lips.

Quiet, voiceless, yet somehow leaving you speechless upon seeing the strength the Sun God possessed.

He found you every single day, appearing like a spectre by the riverbank, a bow slung over his muscular shoulder, gold and softly feathered, mingling beneath the rising sun.

"Where are we going today, my Goddess?" He jumped to your side with a smile, immediately sniffing the fresh, flowery scent that clung to your sparkling hair.

You gave him no mind, simply following deeper into the warm, moist woods. The sun was barely high, and so you watched the trees wake from the slumber's tight arms.

"I'm going for breakfast, and you can do whatever you want."

Yet you knew that no matter how mundane your day was, Satoru Gojo would follow you nonstop. Just to steal a glance at your lips as you wrapped them around the orange's sweetest juice, the sugary stickiness dripping down your blooming cheeks. To watch the way your back bent whenever you drew yet another deadly arrow. How muscles beneath your flimsy tunic worked, and the sweat bubbled at the back of your neck as he traced it with a hungry gaze.

A few weeks had to pass before you started to tolerate his daily company.

He still acted bold and proud, often boasting like a peacock right in front of your irritated eyes, yet tried to keep his hands away, even though you'd noticed how his fingers curled whenever your tunic brushed their tips.

But then one day… something had changed.

You didn't know what, but well, he did.

Eros's wicked arrow had struck his bones, making his gut leak with maddening love. He was aware of the wretched ache in his heart, yet only after being struck by a love-spell of sorts did something beastly unlock in his mind.

As for the arrow meant to banish love, Eros shot it towards Apollo's dearest one. As all the Gods on Olympus already knew of his wretched state, Eros played his dirty trick, ensuring that the sweetest nymph would never glance at Apollo again.

But… well. A man in such haunting love is truly a hellish creature himself.

When the love-bound arrow struck his back, he took it with a wicked pleasure. Yet, when he saw another one flying boldly towards the curve of yours, he grabbed it swiftly, before the leaking peak could ever brush your skin.

It was a sudden movement as he stepped closer, his hand shooting toward something over your shoulder.

It happened yet another day, as you both walked the serpentine paths through his temple's lush garden. There's a little cove I wish to show you. How about a quick dip? After spending a month in his presence, you sighed and nodded, as nothing gave you more wicked pleasure than seeing him lose his mind at the sight of your naked body in fresh mountain waters.

And so, while your tunic fell to the ground and a warm wind brushed your hair with a soft tickle, he suddenly stepped closer.

Too close. Before a sudden crack of splintering wood sounded behind you, he drew an arrow, his long fingers clenching it.

"What is it?" you furrowed, looking at the long wooden arrow crushed in his strong grip.

He threw it to the side, taking the ivory tunic off his body. "Nothing, probably someone's lost arrow. Give it no mind."

But how could you, when something deep in your chest panged? You were a huntress, after all, so how could you not notice an arrow slashing at your side? There was never a moment when you would let your guard down, and yet, being in Satoru's presence somehow pulled a blissful laziness to seep into your mind.

He was always there – looking, watching, carefully observing each of your moves. Swooshing away a few men who dared to approach your side while he kept his eyes on you for too long.

To tear their limbs apart and unleash plagues across their lands with a single arrow. Something… you didn't know about, since there was no need to trouble your sweet mind. To reveal a sinister side of him that would shatter the gradually improving image you held of him.

His mind was already wicked. Heart wrenched by the pull of love so strong that it seeped into him from the inside. So the moment the love arrow struck his back, the feelings he had tried to keep within his heart suddenly burst with brutish, uncontrollable force.

He simply needed to make you his.

So you hummed softly, taking the first step into the little cove, with water slipping in from the nearby sea. A crisp chill hugged your limbs as you took a deep breath.

He watched you with a smile before dipping into the water too. "Rather good, isn't it?"

You nodded, leaning your arms over one of the sizzling stones. "Mhm."

Your bashful eyes roved over his ethereal body, lingering a moment longer on the broad, muscular back and meaty thighs. A warmth seeped through your loins, so you quickly looked away.

But he saw it. Of course he did, and so his body drifted a little closer, just to feel the saltiness wrapping your skin. Your hair fell loosely over your wet shoulder, and warmth crept up your soft neck.

The slight ache from the morning's hunt still pinched your muscles, so you turned to him again, only to see that he had suddenly come far too close.

A soft cough escaped your throat as you pressed yourself closer to the stone. "Could you, hm, give me a quick massage, my God?"

Satoru chuckled. "A massage? Is that how you wish to use the powerful Sun God?"

A scoff slipped past your lips as you turned back and rested your cheek against the warm stone. With eyes slightly lidded, you knew he, anyway, would give you whatever you wanted.

"Is there anything else you're good for?" A cheeky question slipped past your lips, followed by a low sigh.

He stood mere millimetres from your arched back, and the heat radiating from his body was smouldering your drenched skin. Long, thick fingers settled gently on your shoulders before he began pressing the muscles. Your body melted beneath his strong touch, and your mind went all fuzzy – nothing but soft moans and sighs would fill the little, hidden cove.

"I'm sure you can find a few things you could make good use of," his voice dripped with seduction, tickling your hair-covered cheeks.

A tsk fell past your lips. "You have only filth in your mind."

Well, how could he not? When your back arched so deliciously, with water hugging solely your slightly dipped hips? He could see the swell of your ass almost brushing his thighs, and if he took a little step forward, the tip of his leaking cock would surely brush your skin.

It was a blessing that you lay pressed to the stone in a blissfully unaware state, not knowing that the Sun God was going through pure torture right behind your back. With the fat, long cock sticking to his abdomen, little pearls of precum dripping down the veiny curve.

"You make me act filthy, my Goddess."

A month ago, you would have smacked his cheek and left him be. But now, with his fingers digging deep into the muscles of your back, a lovely laugh slipped past your lips.

"It's a pity I'm a wretched virgin, hm?" You straightened your spine, as if trying to give him a better view. "My God, you truly have extraordinary restraint."

Oh, how he loved this cheeky side of yours. The pure filth spilling from your virgin lips, eyes taking on a nasty look whenever you caught him staring at your nipples peeking through the tunic. The way you always undressed yourself in front of him without blushing like a birdie, taking full pleasure in the fact that he couldn't touch you as he wished.

Who said that a virgin should be timid and cowardly? If you could keep your chastity while still enjoying the wretched state you put men in?

And which God would be more fun to tease than the one who slipped through numerous affairs?

Satoru hummed, pressing your back a little harder. Slipping lower, and lower, through your ribcage and waist, rolling the little dimples just above your hips. "Have I? I'm afraid this restraint might one day snap."

A shudder ran down your spine as you tried to keep your head steady. Your bow lay still on the river's bank, and if he tried to misbehave even a bit, you would simply shoot him clean.

And yet, your hips rolled, as if trying to chase the pleasure his touch gave. "I'll be there when it happens." You looked over your shoulder, not missing the squint he gave you… "And I'll make sure to bring you to your senses," …and the reddened tip sticking to his hips. "I think you might wish to take care of it. Maybe with one of your muses?"

Or whores, as you actually wanted to say.

His cock trembled as you looked at it, and Satoru could only chuckle. Nastily, mischievously, with the fingers pulling your hips a bit closer. Yet not close enough for your wet pussy to feel the meaty shaft graze her lips.

"You are my muse, Goddess," he leaned closer, his warm breath brushing your cheeks. "Do you wish to hear the poems I've written about you?"

The sizzling sun licked your spine, eyes followed as his plush lips leaned to your ear. "Are they as filthy as your mind?"

He nodded, fingers slipping down towards the swell of your hips. Rolling deep circles, loosening the tightness in your muscles. "How could they not?" Snowy hair almost tickled your ear. "Who do you think I pleasure myself to? You may be a virgin, my Goddess, but I have my needs too."

With a sudden movement, he flipped you over, pressing your back to the warm stone. His thick cock stuck to the white trail of his abdomen, yet still not touching your dripping cunt.

You may've pledged chastity, yet you couldn't control your body's simple needs.

"You can't do anything to me," you said, yet something in your voice quivered.

His head tilted wickedly, and his eyes shone as he gripped the fat shaft. "But you can watch, hm?" A thumb swirled over the pearly tip, smearing the sticky cum over the reddened head. "Or is it also against your chastity?"

Maybe it was. Yet your head shook as back pressed closer to the stone. The water swelled over your hips, leaving your breasts bare to his starving gaze.

"Hm, thought so." His fingers slipped to your cheek, brushing a few wet locks away. "My Goddess, you truly are a wicked creature."

Pleasure, distress, haunting desire clashed with each other in your mind, yet your body froze in place. Lips fell only slightly open, eyes bulging like porcelain plates, seeing the fatness he gripped. Leaking with creamy droplets of precum, soaking his long fingers and veiny thickness.

Saying he was large would be an understatement.

Something in your belly squeezed, imagining his bulging head hit the deepest–

"Stop," the word slipped out in a shudder as you turned your head away. With warm cheeks and a trembling lip, as if the Sun God's look of himself pleasuring himself solely on your blooming face were against every pledge you had made. "Go and find one of your filthy muses."

Satoru chuckled before his fingers pinched your chin, turning your head back. He leaned closer, his lips almost brushing yours. "I can't think of anyone but you, my Goddess. Look what a wretched man I am because of you." His thumb brushed your lower lip, then slipped boldly onto your tongue. "Do you truly wish to put your Sun God through such a tor–"

Yet before he could finish, your hand met his cheek. A slap bounced off the water, turning his face left. To bring it back to face your wrath, you slapped it again.

His creamy face bloomed like the softest rose, and a shiver of pleasure ran down his spine. Excitement pinched his heart as fingers clenched around the fat shaft with a low, groany moan.

He bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at your face, burning with rage. "Slap me again, my Goddess, and I'll make you arch that pretty ass of yours for me again."

You didn't know where this sudden change had come from, yet the man standing in front of you was not the one who had pestered you for the past thirty moons.

No, as Satoru Gojo, who now stood mere millimetres from your body, with his musky scent clouding you tight and his fat cock trembling at the sheer look of yours – look much, much madder.

Wretched, obsessed, with the flame dancing behind his watery eyes and a wicked smile tugging at his rosy lips

Another shiver ran down your spine when he started pumping his shaft faster. Smearing the creamy cum all over the bulging veins, throwing his head back yet still following the gentle rise of your trembling breasts.

The rage bubbled beneath your heart, and a tiny thread of heat smouldered on your cheeks. He leaned a bit closer, and closer, and closer, until his forehead rested against your shoulder. He didn't touch you in any other way, yet the sole impact left you breathless.

"My Goddess, you smell so good," he took a deep breath close to your neck, letting another groan escape his lips. "So delicious, ah, I can only imagine how sweet the scent is down there."

A shuddered breath escaped your tightened throat, feeling his muscular, massive body looming over yours like a deathly threat. Long fingers pumped his cock faster, breathless moans hit your drenched skin, before he finally stilled.

With the gentle, petal kiss upon your shoulder and his cheek nuzzling against your skin.

Something warm spilt over your belly. And you didn't need to look down to know what it would be.

"You're disgusting," fell in pure wrath, as you pushed him away. "Nothing but filthy scum. I hope this satisfied your hunger, because the next time I see you, my God, not even your wicked arrows will be able to save you from my rage."

You left the water with a shuddering, vexing tremor washing over your spine, and this little, agonisingly rubbing feeling that spilt hotly all over your mind.

Satoru followed your body with a slick smile, the saltiness of your skin still tasting heavy on his lips.

The Sun God was of a cunning nature. Wicked and wrathful, always doing things one way. His way. 

Three weeks had passed before he had a chance to see you again.

His heart heaved in agony as he couldn't find you anywhere. As always, he came at the first break of day to join you on the morning hunt, but you simply weren't there. Waiting for him with a scowl, yet still giggling at all his foolish jokes and accepting a bit of help.

He was waiting by the river's bank from morning till night, yet you hadn't appeared even once. As if the waves themselves had trapped you beneath the surface.

He asked around – the nymphs, the Goddesses, the plains – yet everyone said they hadn't seen you for days. Or maybe they simply lied to him, as you couldn't simply disappear.

And so for the next three weeks, he walked through the lands like a shadow. He barely enjoyed anyone's company, sitting in his temple only to get drunk on the sweetest wine, letting his creamy skin be scorched beneath his own, merciless sun. A shadow of a man he was, as his heart simply couldn't bear the separation you imposed with such anger.

After two weeks, he met his twin sister, Artemis, to whom you pledged your chastity. He loved his sister dearly and knew her like the back of his hand. Thus, with a single glance, he could tell she knew everything that had happened between the two of you.

And based on her furrowed forehead and tsk that fell when she saw his grinning face entering her temple – she wasn't happy.

"I won't tell you where she is," she murmured, brushing her long, creamy hair aside as she enjoyed the warm kisses in the sun.

She lay on the sofa by her pool, with nothing but a long tunic gently wrapped around her body. Satoru hung over her wrinkled forehead and pressed a finger to satin skin. "My sister, such a beautiful woman you are, and yet you always seem so angry."

Shihori smacked his hand, glancing up at his brother with the same blue eyes. "Because you always make me angry, fool."

Satoru lifted her legs and rested them on his thighs as he joined her on the sofa. "Tell me where she is."

Shihori couldn't care less about her brother's wicked wish, so she shook her head. "You know she pledged her virginity, hm?"

Satoru hummed, playing with the long tunic as he brushed his sister's ankles. "I do."

"So you also must know what will happen if she breaks her vow?"

Of course he knew. That's why he came here.

"What if I told you I love her?" he asked, drawing his sister's attention. "I want to make her my wife. Give her to me, and I promise I will be in your debt forever."

Shihori propped herself up on elbows, letting long white hair brush her rosy cheeks. She was as beautiful as her younger brother – by a minute only. Possessing the same archery skill and a power that trembled the heavens.

With a slim chin and wicked eyes, matching the proudish smile. Strong and bold, with neatly carved muscles bulging beneath her satin skin and an authoritative tone that always made Satoru slightly squirm. But she was his older sister, after all, so how could he not feel the utter love and respect for the same blood?

"And why would I do that?" Shihori lifted her straight brow. "Why would I change my rules for this little nymph?"

"Because you love me," Satoru grinned. "And I suppose it would be rather proper to remind you that enjoying women's company also counts as losing one's virginity. My dearest virgin-goddess sister."

Shihori squinted, kicking his side with her foot. "Whatever I do with my nymphs is none of your business."

Satoru grabbed her ankle before biting her big toe, just as he used to tease her when they were children.

"I suppose some Gods would be interested in how the protector of young women and their virginity fucks with her dearest followers," he chuckled as she kicked him again. "You're no better than me, my sister. The same scum-blood runs in our veins. So let me have her, and I won't say a word."

Shihori glared at him. Morality and the need to give her little brother everything were clearly at war in her mind before she waved her hand and lay back down.

"Fine, I won't punish her. Just don't do anything stupid," she laughed, feeling Satoru's sweet kiss on her cheek. "She'll join another feast in a week. Just wait for her there. Oh, and bring me some of this Suguru's special wine."

Satoru tilted his head, another wicked grin already tugging at his lips. He knew his sister wasn't the saint everyone took her for, yet he had no idea how coy she was.

"And what do you need an aphrodisiac-spiked wine for?"

She opened one eye, shooting a set of daggers straight at his heart. But before another bark could pass her plush lips, Satoru chuckled once again. "Ah, what was this rumour, hm…" His eyes gleamed with a foul grin.

"What rumour?" Shihori asked through her teeth, yet the rosy warmth hit her cheeks.

Satoru stood up from the sofa, giving his muscular back a long, groany stretch. He scratched his chin before looking over his shoulder towards his sister. Oh, her anger only fueled his playful mind.

"Nothing, just that our dearest stepmother has been surprisingly benevolent lately," he observed, another wave of warmth wrapping around her neck. "I suppose it's because Hera truly enjoys the company of her stepdaughter. I wonder what makes her so happy that even Zeus no longer gets scolded for all his affairs."

Shihori slipped a pillow from beneath her head and threw it at his head. "Go out, before I change my mind!"

And so he left, with a crackling chuckle bouncing off the temple's walls and his older sister burning from embarrassment.

Yet now, with his sister's blessing, there was nothing that could stop him from pursuing your love.

And so he knew that the next time you met, he would make you his, whether you liked it or not.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

The moon spilt coldly over the feast's heavy tables as the Gods and Goddesses gathered around the flickering candles. The night was warm, as the summer breeze tickled the cheerful cheeks of the giggling nymphs, who listened to Satoru playing soft harp tunes.

An ivory tunic, as always, fell down his muscular shoulders, as the moon spilt dripping kisses on the lightened side of his face.

Finger played softly through the harp's gentle strings, yet lingered on your laughing cheeks. Something panged deep in his chest at how carefree you were with other divinities. You sipped your wine without giving Satoru much thought, as if you hadn't disappeared from Earth for the past three weeks.

Your laugh sliced sweetly through the air, tickling his ears. He desperately tried to force eye contact, yet you gave him nothing but the lovely side of your cheek.

An irritated tsk escaped his lips, an unpleasant anger bubbling deep in his chest. A few Gods approached you with a smile, forcing another wave of rage to wash over Satoru's spine.

Before he could step in, seeing how you slowly warmed yourself to some small God's side, a low, chuckling whistle slashed through the air.

"It seems like things didn't work your way," Suguru said, brushing Satoru's arm with his. "What? She rejected you?"

Satoru sighed, rolling his tense shoulders. "She's just a little nervous."

Suguru squinted his lavender eyes, clearly dissatisfied with such a roundabout answer. Raven hair tickled Satoru's cheek as he tilted his head. Satoru rarely saw his friend concerned with anyone but him, yet his forehead furrowed with a gentle wrinkle.

"Give her some of this wine," Satoru mumbled.

Suguru drew in a long breath, shooting his head towards Satoru. "But you said–"

He started, but Satoru quickly added. "I know what I said." He bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes squinting furiously. "Give her a little. Just to soothe her a bit."

Suguru chuckled, hitting his friend's back. "As you wish, my God."

"Ah, also, prepare a bit for Shihori."

Looking over his shoulder, Suguru rolled a laugh. "Your sister? What does she need it for?"

Satoru gestured with his chin towards the start of the table, where three of the brothers and their wives sat among the elite. With Persephone straddling Hades's hips, a quiet goddess wrapped around Poseidon's arm, and Hera… sitting utterly bored and giving Zeus's drunken laugh no mind.

Suguru followed his gaze before a devilish laugh escaped his throat. "Don't tell me she fucks with the queen mother herself?"

Satoru crossed his arms over his broad chest and let out a soft hum. Suguru tilted his head, admiring Hera's gentle cheeks. "Well, she's quite beautiful. No wonder she's stopped going crazy over Zeus's affairs lately."

Satoru watched as his friend took another pot of wine before rejoining the Gods. His golden tongue whispered the sweetest secrets, and the divinities laughed and blushed beneath Dionysus's soothing lines. After all, a God of Laughter, Wine and Theatre, he knew exactly how to play on people's minds.

You weren't an exception. As he approached and wrapped his arms around you and your friend, a gentle laugh made your eyes lift. Satoru bit the inside of his cheek, catching Suguru's sly glance, while his fingers clenched around your soft arm.

But still, he poured you another cup of the sweetest wine, watching you close as you took a sip. And another, another, another, before humming softly about how delicious it tastes.

A few minutes passed before something warm began to spill across your chest. A kind of fog clouded your mind – sweet and gentle, yet sizzling like the sun.

The nymph sitting right next to you grabbed your arm, looking at your hottish face with a furrow. "Hey, are you okay? Do you need some water?"

You drew in a sharp breath, feeling her cold skin against yours. Your head shook as a soft "I'm fine" barely passed your lips.

Excusing yourself, you rose from the chair and headed to a quieter part of the beach, where gentle waves lapped inside the small cove. Surrounded by the forest and shielded by tall trees, the spot offered a peaceful retreat. The salty breeze gently touched your cheeks, while your throat felt parched, and you scratched it with long nails.

The fog clouding your head was getting thicker, denser, spreading all over your body till the fingertips tingled with a pinching pleasure.

Something wet dripped down your inner thighs, and as you hid yourself behind a tree and slipped a hand beneath the long dress, you felt the stickiness coating your sizzling skin. But more so… the moment your finger brushed your swollen folds, a low bounce of the softly rolling waves.

"Fuck," slipped in a whisper, as you felt the burning pleasure fill your lower belly.

You looked around, seeing that neither mortal nor God peered into the little cove. The bay seemed completely private, with nothing but moonlight spilling onto the smooth sand and soft whispers rolling off the crystal waves.

You took a deep breath, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together. Just to feel a faint friction, yet too embarrassed to slip your finger up again.

You've never felt it before. This… sensation.

Pleasure.

Or maybe you did, yet your mind refused to accept that Apollo, or Satoru Gojo, was the only man who woke a dangerous flame deep in your chest.

Maybe you simply wished to forget about the warmth that boiled deep within your lower belly when his muscular body stood right in front of yours. The look on his handsome face, lost in utter pleasure, and his long fingers wrapped around his filthy cock.

You tried not to think of it again, as the moment the image of his shaft slipped again into your mind, another moany sigh rolled past your lips. Your pussy clenched around nothing, letting another batch of stickiness coat your thighs. Trickling down the skin, till you've noticed a little, wet drop landing on the sand.

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck," you cried, feeling the burning sensation pinch your skin harder. Perking your nipples, softening your body, as if preparing you to accept the pleasure that needed to be spilt.

Bracing yourself against the stony wall, you took a few steps. On trembling legs, you felt the weakness slowly seep into your marrow. You walked slowly, trying to go deeper into the nearby forest, just to reach the river.

Somewhere safe.

You moved slowly, with wetness dripping down your legs and heavy breaths escaping your burning lungs. Your eyes were misty, nearly teary, as the feverish, floral heat enveloped your entire body.

Waves rolled past your bare feet, sandals long forgotten somewhere in the back. Your burning body couldn't bear the dress clinging to your skin, so you began to undress unconsciously.

One cloth after another, before falling down your knees, to crawl towards the river's banks.

"Do you need help, my Goddess?"

Someone's voice filled your balmy mind.

No, not someone's.

His.

Of the God whom you wished to see the last, as the sole fragrance of his skin pinched your senses in an utmost sinful way.

And, oh, he must've watched you now in such an embarrassing stance!

Kneeling with your sizzling body, you shed the sea-drenched dress behind you. The intense desire overwhelmed your reason as you presented yourself fully before his daring gaze.

"Go away," you barely breathed. "You can't see me in such a state."

But Satoru merely chuckled before you heard his heavy footsteps coming your way. Ocean eyes hummed at all the garments you'd left behind before settling on your clenched thighs and slightly arched back as you tried to crawl towards the nearest river.

He squinted, seeing the wetness dripping down your thighs and a gentle shimmer from your swollen pussy.

"My Goddess, it seems that you do feel unwell," He chuckled, taking another step your way. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Your head shook as you tried to crawl faster, only to get away from him as fast as you could. An attempt to stand up ended in a miserable fall onto the sand, drawing a soft giggle from Satoru's lips. He knelt by your side, brushing away a few strands of hair sticking to your cheeks.

"Oh my," he hummed, seeing the utter loveliness of your drugged face.

With cheeks sweet as fresh cherries and eyes softened by an alluring scowl. A gentle pout tugged at your lips as you unconsciously nuzzled against his skin. Another hand cupped your cheek as he held your face in a possessive grip. His big thumbs, tight yet delicate, brushed your skin.

"What is it, my Goddess?" He whispered, allowing a lenient sigh to spill past your lips. "What happened here, hm? Are you a bit too drunk?"

You nodded, thinking of nothing but the pleasant grip of his fingers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you were slowly giving in.

A miserable attempt to push him away ended solely with you even more pathetically landing on the soft sand. Your back hit it with a dull thud, as Satoru placed his fingers on your knees. Thumb rolled gently in circles, as if he knew how much pleasure your body took from each brush of his skin.

"Say it," he muttered, leaning closer. Plush lips brushed one of your knees, eyes never leaving your fogged face. "Say that you want me to help you, my Goddess. I know how to make you feel good."

Oh, and you knew too, which is why your knees tried to close again. But his grip was too strong, and he brutally forced them forward, folding you in half.

With your bare pussy dripping filthy onto the sand and perked nipples waiting to be softly brushed by his thumb.

The moonlight kissed his handsome, sharp side as he leaned in once again. To hang right over your face, observing with wicked pleasure the tears forming beneath your lids. As if he could see the fuzzy mess of your mind, with morality and a simple, human need drawing a brutal tight.

"I c-can't," you mumbled, feeling the heat drip down your tongue. It felt much heavier than before, barely touching your feverish roof. "Stop, I can't, the chastity–"

"Shhh," Satoru cooed, pressing your thighs to your chest. Till the swell of your ass glued off the drenched sand. "Artemis will forgive you."

His nose traced the plush of your cheek. Lips peppering your skin softly, leaving traces down your chin. His tongue swirled sweetly around one of your nipples, through the burning neck, perked breasts.

You wished to fight it – you truly did, yet a sugary moan slipped past your lips.

"No, she–ah!" you cried, as he softly bit your nipple.

"It's alright, my Goddess. Don't resist it," he murmured, with one hand feeling your breasts as his lips traced a path down your body. He gently bit, grazed, and nipped your skin before resting his cheek against your mound. "Allow me to take care of you. Just say you want it," he whispered, as his finger rolled your nipple, causing another cry to escape your lips.

"I'm a v-virgin, wait…" Your hand landed on Satoru's head, tugging softly on his hair.

Satoru groaned, feeling your gentle finger scratch his scalp. "I'll take good care of you. It won't hurt, I promise," he mumbled right into the drenched mound of your cunt, as the fragrance of sugary juices already hit his senses. "Fuck, my Goddess. Just let me have a taste. I won't put it in…" promise?

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling his warm breath almost brush your core. Not quite, yet the mere sight of him, lying so handsomely between your thighs, was enough to force a nod.

A nod, which would never happen if your mind wasn't on the verge of spilling. If your body wasn't melting beneath his touch, thighs spreading even wider, just to open your cunt to his starving mouth.

It was utterly embarrassing, humiliating, mostly sinful act and yet… when his tongue finally licked the juices off your clit, a shuddering moan bounced off the cove's stones.

He didn't waste a time, pushing the drenched muscle right inside your spasming cunt. Slurping, ravishing on the waves of wetness that spilt from your hole in unnaturally large bursts. Droplet after droplet, trickling down his chin and landing softly on the sand.

"My Goddess, fuck, I knew you would taste so good," he slurred, letting your juices stick to his lips. "My sweetest love, mhm, I was waiting a month for you."

Your fingers clenched around his hair as you tried to slightly pull him back. "W-wait, that's–nghhh–too much, my God!"

Your body had always been much weaker than his, but now, with neediness running through your blood, it seemed impossible to do anything but allow yourself to be wrapped in his lips.

He took your hand, slipping it down your belly. Down to your clenching cunt, only to press your two fingers against the swollen clit.

"Do you feel it, my Goddess?" He chuckled, looking up at your warm cheeks. "Do you feel how wet you are? That's what you wanted to take away from me."

He directed your pads to press softly, pinchily, till another moan spilt past your lips. His tongue slurping on your tight core, fingers of one hand rolling your nipples. Squeezing the plush breasts, till a painful pleasure tickled your spine.

And the other hand…

"Wait!" You screamed, quickly catching his wrist. "N-no penetration… just…" Oh dearest, how embarrassing it was to say out loud! "… use your tongue. I can't lose my virginity."

My sweet foolish nymph, Satoru thought, before an innocent, "Of course, my Goddess," fell past his plush lips.

The waves and waves of ethereal pleasure washed over your spine as he devoured your sweet pussy with a starving need. Nose all glued with your juices, cheeks nastily squeezed by your trembling thighs, tongue working on your clit and hole, trying to stretch her as much as he could.

His creamy forehead furrowed with a wrinkle, brows tight, as you pushed a few soft strands of his hair away.

"My God, please t-take a breath," you cried, yet the spilling lustfulness seeped like a flame through your skin. "I'm–mhmm–t-there's something…" Before you could point at your lower belly, his hand pressed right there.

Squeezing your little pouch, as if trying to feel the slick, filthy cum splashing beneath your skin.

"You need to cum, my Goddess," he mumbled drunkenly, sucking on your plush clit. "But for that, I need to put my finger in."

You bit your lower lip, looking down at his wretched face.

His cheek nuzzled against your soft thigh, kissing the clit softly. "Please? Just a finger. I promise, it'll be fine."

Oh, he looked stunning. With those alluring eyes and innocent pout, as if aware that his angelic face alone was enough to make your head spin.

So you nodded, rather unconsciously, and watched him push one finger in.

"Oh," slipped moany at the new feeling. "Oh, my God, mhmm, i-it's–"

"Now you can cum for me," Satoru whispered, going back to sucking your clit.

He knew where your sweet spot was – how couldn't he? – so within a second, you started squirming beneath his grip.

One of his hands rested on your belly while the other was deep inside your tight, clenching walls. He kissed, brushed, and lightly peppered your most sensitive spot with his finger until your thighs finally clenched around his head.

Locking him in a tight, shuddering embrace as he drunkenly moaned over your spilling juices. With a single flick of his tongue, you melted beneath his maddening touch, squirting all over his cheeks, chin and nose, till the Sun God was left nothing but a wretched man, hugging nastily to your velvety skin.

Your head felt a bit less feverish, with the crimson fog finally clearing from in front of your eyes and fresh summer air finally filling your lungs.

For a mere second, you felt normal again.

Satoru still lay between your spread legs, kissing the slippery skin of your inner thighs softly.

"Welcome back, my Goddess," he muttered, licking the last juices dripping from your pussy.

You watched him with pure terror swirling behind your eyes. "I… this feeling…"

"Mmm," he hummed, softly biting a plush of your thigh. "Someone must've spiked your wine, my Goddess. Have you angered anyone recently?"

Oh, he was such a scum.

Your lovely brows furrowed, a drop of sweat slipping down your temple. "No, I… I don't know. There was…" you, wanted to slip, yet you bit down on your tongue.

Satoru pouted, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. "My Goddess, I vow to find that bastard and slash his throat," he whispered, kissing your thigh and moving upward, even biting gently into your calf. "But for now, brace yourself for another wave."

And true to his promise, the heat once more kissed your cheeks. It climbed up your neck, seeped into fingertips, curled beneath lower belly, and caused another slick to slide down your cunt.

A fogginess once again swirled in front of your eyes, and an anxiety bubbled somewhere deep in your tightened throat.

Satoru flipped you onto your belly, with a soft, "Shhh, it's fine, my Goddess. You'll be fine."

Gentle, wet kisses landed on your shivering spine, leaving hottish traces down the skin.

"What a-are you doing?" fell shuddered.

But you didn't catch his reply. Truly, you heard nothing at all but the swoosh of his tunic as it landed close to your sand-plastered face.

"My God–ah!" Slipped in a pitched moan, as something fat poked on your swollen pussy.

The heat was teasing, gently pinching your damp folds, rolling waves of intense pleasure whenever Satoru stirred your cunt. His fingers spread the heat in a soft hum, and something heavy, round, pressed against your tight entrance.

"My God, what–"

"My love," Satoru let out an utterly innocent whimper, as if trying to stifle the tears wracking beneath his lids. You couldn't see the devilish smile tugging at his lips, his face tightly pressed into the sand. "Allow me to make you feel good. I can make the pain go away, just let me…" His swollen head slipped in a little, forcing a shattered moan from your throat.

"Wait!" You tried to crawl away, but he pressed a hand between your shoulder blades. Keeping you tight in place, with his massive body fully resting on yours.

"It's okay, my love. It won't hurt, I promise," he hummed, another hand massaging the swell of your hips. Spreading your drenched folds a bit farther to see the tip of his cock getting sucked by your weeping cunt. "My Goddess, don't make her wait any longer. She's just wishing to get fucked, ahh."

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stop your hips from slamming against his. As, dearest heavens, the way his sole head stretched your cunt brought an unparalleled, maddened pleasure, bubbling deep inside your belly. The pledge you made re chastity was trying to fight the aroused, lustful thoughts. The thick, warm fog that made your body liquefy beneath his touch, and your mind go all hot.

"My virginity–" You started, yet Satoru quickly snapped back.

"I talked to my sister, love. She won't punish you," he whispered, leaning down to lick a long stripe down your spine. "Because now you're mine. So say you want it, hm? Say you want me to fuck your tight cunt and fill her up."

He bit, licked, kissed your skin, while slowly, oh so painfully slow, poking your drenched hole.

"Just the tip, my love," he whispered, brushing away a few strands of hair hiding your lovely side. "I don't want to hurt you, my Goddess. I'll slip just a little tip."

And with an arousal fogging your mind, you nodded. Forcing a wicked laugh past his plush lips as he kissed your cheek.

"Mhm, that's right, my love," his cock slid through your tight walls, snugging inside your plush warmth. "Oh fuck, my Goddess, you truly are a fucking virgin."

You drew in a sharp breath, feeling his heavy cock slip into your belly. It was anything but the tip, forcing a sudden burst of tears to roll down your cheeks.

The pain mixed with pleasure as his shaft forced its way deep inside your pussy. You could feel every pulsing vein throbbing against your walls, the pumped head smooching your sweet spot, as he pushed and pushed, while pressing your body to the sand.

A moany cry bounced pitifully off the crystal waves before he quickly rolled you again.

This time, your back hit the sand, thighs folding up to your chest.

And when you looked up at his face… oh.

The Sun God hung over your crying cheeks with nothing but an utterly wicked, handsome smile. Eyes shining beneath the cold moon, adding to their ocean-blue hues a kiss of sin. He giggled, kissing the single tear that soaked your cheek.

And an angel, no, rather a demon, keeping you in his tight, possessed embrace.

Your hands pressed to his chest, as he pushed harder. "My God, you said just the tip," fell harshly, seeing a grin coiling in his gaze.

"My Goddess, you truly are ruthless," he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips. "How could I ever lie to you? I'm barely in, I promise."

Yet when you tried to look down, his strong fingers grabbed your chin, keeping your eyes fixed on his.

"You don't trust me?" He pouted, peppering your skin with soft kisses. "Don't look down there, my love. Focus on me."

Your head lulled right as he bit the side of your neck. Licking, sucking on it gently, while still forcing his cock through your walls.

It wasn't just the tip, and although you should be angry, the way he kept you folded left little room for movement. With his single arm pressing your legs tight, fingers keeping your chin up, and massive, heavy body leaning on yours.

He started to move faster, faster, faster, pumping you poor, weeping cunt with his heavy cock. It hit every inch of your lower belly, brushing past the sweet spot and smooching up to the slowly swelling womb. You could feel his round head nuzzle deep inside your pulsing warmth, as your tight walls wrapped around him, as if trying to lock him in.

A low hiss slipped past his rosy lips as you cried out in painful pleasure. Your blood ran hot as he tried to fuck each drop of aphrodisiac from your veins, pushing your body deeper into the sand.

The nasty squelch bounced off the water, spilling deep into the cave and catching in your scattered hair. He brought your face back, giggling at the sight of your utterly fucked eyes.

"My beautiful Goddess," he whispered, before slipping his hand down your belly. At this point, with heat bubbling in your belly, your thighs stayed open, pressed to your chest, as if your body was freely inviting him in. "My sweet, beautiful Goddess. Tell me how good you feel."

His demand forced wrath and balmy submissiveness upon your fucked mind, and so a sweet, honest, "G-good, ahh, you're filling me s-so good," fell embarrassingly past your lips.

As no matter how much you wanted to refuse, it did feel good. Dearest, it felt amazing, handling his hefty cock fully sliding inside your warmth, till wet balls hit your lifted ass. Head kissing your womb, veins pulsing in rhythm with your plush walls, as they pushed out waves and waves of fresh cum. Coating his full length in your juices, till whenever he pulled out, a crystal thread formed between your cunt and his creamy, happy trail.

His hands kneading your softness turned your mind to balm, and fingers playing with your swollen bud forced a moan, so you truly, shamefully so, allowed your body to give in to his touch.

"My God, nghh, I'm going to–"

Before you could finish, he crashed his lips against yours. He slipped a groan deep inside your throat as he started to fuck you faster. More relentless, brutal, forcing upon your virgin cunt a strength you weren't used to.

"My God, p-please–ahhh–slow down," you cried into his lips, yet received only a low chuckle.

"I know how to make you cum, my love. Your pussy needs to be fucked properly," he licked the tears dripping down your cheeks before capturing your lips again. "You're close, hm? I can feel it in your belly."

His hands pressed to your lower pouch, feeling his cock hit the soft skin, before slipping down to your cunt. Rolling your clit in mean, squelching pinches.

"S-satoru," his name finally escaped your throat, as you wrapped your arms behind his neck. "So good, you're–ngh–filling me–ahhh."

He chuckled, seeing your lidded eyes and messy blabber falling past your lips. "I know, my Goddess, your–ahh–pussy feels so fucking good. My sweetest, I promise to take good care of you."

He hid his face in the crook of your neck before finally going still. Your back arched, nipples pressing to his chest, before a soaked cry ripped from your throat. Juices gushing all over his abdomen, cock, as he hit your womb painfully, filling it with sticky ropes of cum. Till you felt the heavy creaminess sticking to your walls, stuffing you heavily, madly full.

A filthy fog once again seeped into your mind, and for a single minute you felt your strength return to your body. For a mere moment, it allowed you to smack his fair cheek. It left him fully unfazed, with a cheeky grin still plastered to his handsome face and a low chuckle forcing its way past his lips.

"My Goddess, is that how you should treat your future husband?" he asked, then brutally turned you back onto your belly. You tried to crawl, kicking him back, but he simply smacked your ass. "Come on, my love. Don't try to fight me. If I hadn't found you, who knows who would?"

Your breath hitched when you felt his cock harden again. Still snuggling deep inside you cunt, as you felt his shaft stretch your poor, weeping walls.

"I–ahh–I fucking hate you," you snapped through gritted teeth, your hips slowly rocking against his. Whatever you'd drunk still flowed in your veins, forcing another fog over your mind. "I hate you, so, s-so–mhm Satoru, just, fuck, p-please–"

His fingers dug deep into your perked-up ass, ocean eyes glimmering at the sight of your arched back. Sweat beaded on your neck, and your teary gaze looked over your shoulder in a furious, desperate, pleading manner.

He chuckled, taking a little vial from his tattered tunic. Opening it with his teeth, he handed it your way.

"What is it?" you asked, trying to sound at least a bit suspicious.

His eyes squinted, lips turned wickedly up. "Just a simple water. You'll feel a bit better."

"Drink it first."

"You don't trust me?"

You bit down your lip, shaking your head a bit.

Satoru hummed before taking a sip of the liquid without hesitation. It seeped warmly through his body, dripping down to the burning loins.

Seeing that he truly acted normally, you took it from his fingers and drank it all in one go. But… oh.

You shot head his way, seeing nothing, but a nasty grin. "This…"

He leaned closer, pressing his hand back between your shoulder blades. His face drew nearer, then he licked your lips with his wine-sweetened tongue. "Tastes similar, my love?"

A wave of heat was rolling faster, an even stronger aphrodisiac flowing through your veins. Breathing became harder, your mind already blind, as he pushed your melted body into a deeper arch.

"I love you so much, my Goddess," he whispered, peppering your sizzling cheek. "I'll make you feel so good. So fucking good, I promise. My sweet, beautiful wife. Just trust me."

©liahcharms all rights reserved. Do not copy, plagiarise, feed AI, translate or modify my works.

Yesss, I'll write Artemis!Femjo and Hera!Reader, because we're the milf and she's the MOTHER FUCKER

Especially when you look so damn good. You visited a hair salon this morning to get the perfectly seductive curls, pinning them up into a high bun with rivets and wisps of curls cascading down from your up-do. It goes perfectly with your wine red cocktail dress–body-hugging, sexy, and has a high slit at the thigh. You paired it with some Loboutine heels and your favorite MAC lipstick. 

Perfect for seducing a certain vigilante. 

You press two fingers to your right ear, right against the tiny ear piece that could be mistaken for an earring stud. “Testing, testing, 1, 2,” you speak into the earpiece. “This is Nightowl about to enter the vicinity. Target not yet in sight.” 

There is a bit of fuzz and then a familiar voice belonging to one of your fellow agents. “Roger that, Nightowl. We’ll be in the building as soon as you give the signal. Target should be inside.” 

You feel that familiar stomach flip; the one you usually get before a mission that often vanishes by the time it begins. Nowadays, you don’t get nervous anymore having done this for years. You learn to adapt and to sneak, turning into someone else for the time being until the mission is complete. “Roger. Over and out.” 

You square your shoulders and slink into that seductive, secretive persona that you keep in your closet for missions like these. Any mission where you must seduce someone and take them off guard is when you pull her out–the mysterious, sly sex kitten that knows what she wants and how to get it. Nobody can resist her…not even a certain bat-based vigilante taking over Gotham City. 

With a strut in your step and a sway in your hips, you walk over to the museum and walk up the steps to the double doors. Every click of your Loboutine heels prepares you for tonight’s festivities. Everything that can and might happen. Everything that you either are or aren’t prepared for.

You love nights like these. You crave for them. You feel electric as you walk into the museum, smiling when you hand the host your invite. You notice the way he checks out the curve of your tits in your dress and the shape of your red lips. He barely checks your ticket because he’s too busy checking you out. 

You smile and bat your lashes, thanking him. This means your job should go easy tonight. 

When you fully step into the museum lobby converted into a party room, it is in full swing and brimming with luxury, excitement and the energy of the rich, nightlife crowd. The room is surrounded by glass cases of history on display: historical artifacts, old paintings, gems and jewels glittering with temptation. All for the taking. 

You would gladly snatch up all of them if you could, but you’re after just one in particular. 

It is shockingly easy for you to blend in, but then again, as a renowned agent and jewel thief, you know exactly how to do so. It makes it easy to slink past staff and security to the ‘Staff Only’ room and snatch a random employee tag. 

You pin it to your dress and slink back out to the party without anyone noticing, the weight of your secret weapons strapped to your thigh and in your purse grounding you. 

As soon as you walk back out into the party, you are bombarded by the sound of a live band playing and the aura of luxury. It is all around you—on the snack table where a crystal bowl of punch and champagne flutes sit; in the tasteful decorations; the conversations and laughs of the guests decked out in their best designer

You keep your clutch close to your side, your little Glock hidden beneath your switchblade shaped as a lipstick tube…and your lipstick. You can’t ever leave the house without your MAC. You press your fingers to your ear again, keeping your voice low. “Night Owl within the vicinity. Target not in sight yet.”

You begin to look around the room, scanning it to find the man of the hour. You studied his appearance for weeks before coming here. Though you have no idea what he’ll be wearing tonight, you know that once you see him, you’ll know that it’s him. 

And sure enough, you do. You find him sitting at the bar in a tailored black suit, all long legs and looking so tall and big even while sitting. He is nursing a club soda in his big hand as he reads off a pamphlet about the upcoming presentation tonight and tonight’s auctioned items, his blue eyes shifting as he reads. 

There he is: Nightwing, in the flesh. You feel your throat tighten and your heart pound against your ribcage. Your agency has been on this man’s tail for months the same way he has been on theirs, tracking down his real identity. When they finally found him, your boss slapped his manila folder on your desk and smiled at you. “We got him,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.” 

Nightwing has been a thorn in your boss’ side for months now, cracking down on his most skilled agents and traffickers. Every Gotham newspaper shows a new arrest on the front page, courtesy of Nightwing and his stupid tight spandex suit and charming grin. No one has ever seen him out of his mask or suit…except for now. And you are more than excited to expose him tonight. 

Smuggling is an art form itself. It requires much time and discipline. Being a spy is exactly the same, requiring a precise form and act that makes you your boss’ top spy at his underground agency. 

Which is why he chose you for the job. If anyone can get Nightwing on a silver platter, it’s you. You’re more than happy to do so. Anyone ruining your job and chances at getting your hands on some more pretty prizes is evil in your eyes. 

The plan is simple: get the man comfortable, perhaps get some drinks in him, seduce him enough to take your offer for privacy in the basement, and then bam! He gets caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you get your hands on the museum’s newest find: a diamond worth millions. One of history’s finest artifacts recently dug up and shipped here. Never before seen. 

With the taste of danger and another pretty thing in your roster on your tongue, you strut over to the undercover vigilante and take a seat next to him, catching his attention immediately. It’s almost comical. You give him a small smile of acknowledgement as you place your clutch on the polished bar. 

You then wave your manicured nails at the bartender, flashing the vigilante your glossy, red nails. “Bartender, a Brandy Alexander, please.” The woman in the white and black uniform nods, getting started on your drink. You sit in silence for a moment, both of you testing the other to make the first move. 

You glance at Nightwing, eyeing him curiously as he pretends to read the pamphlet sitting in his lap. His pants seem to stretch across his muscular thighs…not that you’re checking him out. “So are you gonna say something or just act like you’re not staring at me?” he asks without looking up at you. 

You blink at him, taken aback. “Sorry?” He finally turns to look at you, smirking, his blue eyes devastatingly pretty. Damn him. “Pardon the bluntness. I had a glass of champagne earlier. But I can feel your eyes.”

You raise your brow at him, feeling your own smirk curl onto your lips. “Oh, really? How do you know they were mine?” The vigilante shrugs, sipping his club soda. “I’ve been to parties like this before. Or rather, auctions for historical art pieces and valuables.”

“So have I,” you reply, nodding in thanks when your drink is given to you. The vigilante watches you take a sip, eyes zooming in on your red lips. “Hm. Well, you’re certainly dressed for the part. I notice the name tag. You work here, Ms. London?”

You damn near forget about the fake name on the tag you stole and nod, smiling. “That, I do, uh…” You pretend to look puzzled, pulling an annoyingly attractive chuckle out of him. “Satoru,” he replies. “Gojo.” So your agency’s research was correct. Nightwing and Satoru Gojo, a Gotham-based college thirty-something year old, are, in fact, the same person. 

Quelling the excitable flip in your gut, you shake his hand, ignoring how big and calloused it is. “Pleasure to meet you, Satoru. I’ve been working here for a year now, so dresses like this are the norm for auctions. I’m glad you like it.”

A small blush coats Satoru’s cheeks, making him slightly endearing. He has two sides to himself it seems…or three, counting Nightwing. “Heh. Well, I’m sure everyone does. It looks very…expensive.” You giggle, eyeing his clothes. “As does your suit.”

He quirks a brow at your compliment, happy with the praise. “Ya think so, huh? Guess that Bloomingdale’s employee wasn’t bullshittin’ me then.” He flashes you a white-toothed grin, dimples popping. He is so charming that it’s disarming, making you slightly uncomfortable. You’ve never felt this way about a target before. 

“I can’t say I’ve seen your face around here,” you say, still turning up the heat. After all, this is your job. “I would’ve recognized you as a regular.” You make sure to put a flirty tone in your voice to catch his attention. Sure enough, it does. 

“I’m a lover of the arts. Got an invite from the Gotham Art Museum as a member and took it. Plus, there’s a free bar, so why not?” He smirks, sipping his drink. “That’s usually what brings people in here,” you chuckle. “Unless you’re an art buff.” You sip your drink too, leaving a red stain on the glass. 

Satoru’s eyes flick from the rim to your face, your wicked ways working on him. “Oh, I am. Nothin’ like gettin’ your hands on somethin’ as valuable and precious as a piece of art. A painting, a sculpture. Even the finest jewel.” His tone is so sly; so seductive. He’s trying to work his charm too…but why?

“Oh?” you purr, hiding your suspensions. “How so? Is it the history that turns you on? F-For art, I mean.”

Satoru chuckles at your little intentionally unintentional innuendo, ducking his head in a way that is both boyish and sexy. “Yeah. Plus, they’re just so damn pretty. I mean, look at this necklace here!” He shows you a photo of one of the artifiacts–a gorgeous necklace from 1800 England dripping with sapphires. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks. 

You nod, struggling to not inhale his cologne as he leans in to show you the photo. “It is,” you hum. “There are plenty of more pieces I can show you, if you’re interested.” He eyes you then, his blue eyes like the purest oceans. “Very. Lead the way, Ms. London.” 

You smile as you finish your drink for that liquid confidence and stand. He presents you to his elbow and you take it, trying not to get too excited over how easy this is. It may seem that way, but you need to be on your toes. This could go very wrong in an instant. For example, falling victim to the vigilante’s charms as he smiles at you and leads you around the party. 

You show the items you’ve seen on the museum’s website, feeding him info you researched and bullshit you make up on the spot. He seems to eat it all up, sipping a glass of champagne, even getting one for you to clink his glass against. Satoru doesn’t seem bored by anything you tell him, nodding in interest and slipping in little jokes between your presentations to make you giggle. 

After about two hours of your “roleplay”, things start to accelerate when you’re on your second glass of champagne and back at the bar for a mocktail. You’ll need to at least be semi-sober for this next part. As you’re reaching into your clutch for some cash to pay for your mock martini with olives, someone beats you to it. 

An older gentleman with a horrible combover grins at you, not even trying to hide his lecherous eyes. “Here. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t buy her own drink.” 

He slips you a bill, standing a little bit closer to you than you’d like. “I appreciate that,” you giggle, taking the money from him just as the bartender returns with your drink. “How can I repay you for such a kind act?” 

The old man pretends to think, puckering his lips in a way that you’re sure is supposed to be sexy. “Just your number. I could make sure you don’t have to ruin those feet walkin’ around for your job anymore.” He nods down at your fresh pedicure and designer heels, licking his chapped lips. 

You swallow your repulsion, feeling Satoru’s presence sitting behind you at the bar. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t take numbers from married men.” With joy, you watch the old man’s smile fade and he slinks away, giving you the dirtiest look known to man. Satoru nods, impressed. “You got quite the eye.” You shrug, sipping your crisp mocktail. “When you work here long, you learn to catch on.” 

He reaches over, clinking your glass with his new drink: a Brandy Alexander this time. “I could’ve told ya he was married though,” he chuckles. His laugh is smooth and rich yet deep and lethal, like a shot of whiskey. 

You turn to him, raising a brow at him as you sip your martini. “And how would you know that?” you question. “He didn’t have a ring on his finger.” You only knew because you saw him with his wife when you came in. 

Satoru chortles again as if you’re some dumb little girl he needs to school. “Don’t have to. Rings can come off, ‘specially at events like these.” He takes a sip from his drink, eyeing you across the rim. “There’s plenty of pretty women like yourself swimmin’ around here for the pickin’.” 

His gaze is hot like fire licking across your exposed skin. The air that the old man left tense becomes even more so, but you straighten your neck and regard him with a smirk. “Like me?” you scoff. “I doubt he could’ve even been able to afford me.” 

You take another sip of your martini, leaving a red stain on the rim, before fishing out the toothpick rowed with olives. You pluck one off with your teeth, knowing that he is watching. ‘Just keep up the act. Hook, line, and sinker.’ 

“And how would one afford you?” he asks, curiously glistening in his eyes. “You merchandise? Up for grabs like these beauties here?” You swirl your tongue around in your mouth, sizing him up. You try not to think about how fun it is to flirt with him. To tease him. This is your job. “Depends on how much you’re willing to bet on me.” 

That’s what finally breaks the tension and Satoru’s smile grows rather lustful. “Maybe we can discuss somewhere more private,” he suggests. He slides his hand into yours and you allow it, ignoring how your heart pounds. “You got a room?” 

You take a sip of your drink, smirking. “Plenty,” you giggle. Satoru mirrors your smirk, eyeing you down into your stool. “Little spitfire, ain’t you?”

You laugh as he helps you out of your stool. You do your best to act like your knees aren’t weak and that his touch doesn’t send electric shocks through your body. You tell yourself that it’s just because your mission is going so well. Finally, you’ll get what you want. “So I’ve been told. I’ve got just the place for us though. Follow me before someone knows we left.” 

Satoru nods, his expression like molten fire as his eyes lay on your ass when you walk ahead of him, hand in hand, towards the elevator. The auction is underway so people are preoccupied, meaning it’s easy to sneak away with the vigilante to the basement. 

Minutes later, you’re getting pinned against the basement wall and Satoru’s lips are on yours. He showed surprising self control in the elevator, even when you felt the sexual tension building and his hand on your waist growing tight. The basement is quiet and empty, only filled with supplies and other museum artifacts moved for safe keeping. 

You moan against Satoru’s kiss, his soft lips just as heavy as the darkness descending upon you. The silvery moonlight is the only light cutting through the open window above, illuminating Satoru’s snow white hair and handsome features. His hands cup your face as you grasp his shoulders, welcoming his big frame pressed against yours. 

You’ve kissed many targets before. You’ve even slept with some. Not that you’re proud of it, but it’s the name of the game. However, with Satoru, this doesn’t feel like a simple roleplay or job. His lips are soft and chaste of champagne, making you drunk. It’s so dangerous. You need to stop this now. 

Luckily, the glittering of an object catches both of your eyes, causing you to stop kissing. Satoru keeps his roaming hands on you as he gazes at the glass case of a gorgeous diamond glistening with all kinds of yellows, pinks, and lavenders. “Wait…is that the newest diamond?” he questions. “The one found in a cave in the Himalayas?" 

You nod, slinking your arms around him as you gaze at the diamond. “Yeah,” you purr. “They brought it in a month ago to present tonight.” And if anyone touches it, it will start an alarm. You know from sneaking in here weeks ago for a tour of the museum, committing every room to memory. 

With your eyes trained on Satoru, you give him a lustful stare, body tingling in anticipation. “Now shut up and take off your clothes. Step back a bit for me so I can undress.” Satoru grins and begins to do just that, reaching for his tie as he blindly steps back, the glass case right behind you. 

Click.

You freeze when you feel the cold barrel of a gun in your back, making your muscles tense. “Hold it right there,” an unfamiliar voice croons. “Move one inch and you won’t like what happens next.” You do as he says, not moving, while Satoru glares at the stranger over your head. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hisses. 

The stranger chuckles, his voice deeper yet softer than Satoru’s. “Now is that anyway to greet your friendly neighborhood vigilante?” he jokes. “‘Specially since I could’ve just left your dumb ass here.” The gun cocks, making you gulp. “Turn around,” he orders. 

Slowly, you turn and sure enough, you’re staring at yet another Gotham vigilante that’s been bugging your boss: Red Hood, in the flesh. Dressed in his red and black uniform, muscles outlined in his suit, his long, black hair cascading down his shoulders and back. A white streak shoots through one lock in his face, right over his indigo eyes peeking over the red mask covering his mouth and nose. 

Satoru glares at the vigilante that seems to be flipped around from the same coin, just a different side. “Seriously, Suguru? You stealin’ my target from me now?”

Target? 

“Don’t use my real name,” Suguru aka Red Hood growls from behind his mask. “And you were ready to fuck my target, Nightwing. Don’t you realize this woman is tryin’ to play you? She wants someone to take the fall while she steals the diamond.” 

Slowly, you turn to stare at Satoru, hoping that you aren’t this stupid. Sure enough, the white-haired man rolls his blue eyes. “Why else would I have come down here so willingly? I’m not that much of a whore, asshole.” 

He turns to you with a smile, popping open his top to reveal the black suit with a big blue bat symbol stuck on his chest. “Pleasure to meet you by the way, Night Owl.” You gape at the bat symbol then at his face. You can’t believe it! You’ve been had! “You…you tricked me,” you hiss. 

Satoru doesn’t even look the least bit apologetic, but why would he? “Sorry, but I couldn’t have you tossin’ me to the cops. I know you ain’t gonna flap your gums about my secret identity…unless you want people to know who you are too.” 

Your eyes widen an inch, your stomach flipping with fear. He’s blackmailing you? “See, I’ve been after you for quite some time now,” he continues, giving you that stupid grin that you want to smack off of him. “You’re the most wanted jewel thief in Gotham. Frankly, I just wanted to see how far you’d think I’d fall for your plan.” 

“Fuck you,” you growl. “Neither one of you is gonna arrest me for this. The cops and Batman are all the same: fuckin’ idiots.” Suguru and Satoru share a look, silently deliberating. “Good thing they got us,” Satoru chuckles. “We’re not as dumb as you think we are, honey.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Suguru hums, the gun still cocked at your head. “You don’t give us superheroes as much credit.” You keep quiet, simpering with anger. How could you be so dumb? How could you be so reckless? So–

Crackle-crackle. “Night Owl!” your fellow agent yells into your ear. “Come in, Night Owl! There’s an initial target! It’s–”

“Tell your people that you know already,” Suguru says, close enough to hear the feedback of the "conspicuous" ear piece in your ear. “And tell them that we’re about to give you an ultimatum. All you have to do is surrender and–” 

POOF!  

The vigilante can’t finish his sentence because he’s getting a mouthful of the pink smoke bomb you slipped out of your bra. It is tiny yet lethal; a new weapon created by the tech department at your agency. It comes right in handy, creating a thick fog that fills the entire basement with pink smoke. “Goddamn!” Satoru coughs. “What the fuck was that?!”

Quickly, you turn around to knock the gun out of Suguru’s hand, the fog allowing you the perfect cover. Then you give him a swipe with your leg, tripping him backwards. Though he perfectly catches himself and kicks his legs back up to stand upright, you’re already pulling a tiny remote from your clutch and aiming it at the ceiling. 

“Sorry to cut this meeting short, fellas,” you chuckle. “But I’ve gotta run. Nice meeting you!” Then with one click, a rope with a hook at the end extends from the remote and punches a hole into the ceiling window. You zoom up right out of the building through the window before releasing and landing on the museum building’s rooftop.

Unfortunately, the fog is a little bit more potent than you realize. It explodes from the broken window, traveling up onto the rooftop. Right under your nose. You breathe it in without even realizing it and begin to cough, your throat and eyes stinging. Those fuck ass scientists! 

Quickly, you hurry to the edge of the building and stare across to a skyscraper. You could zip across that no problem. You could be out of here in just a….whoa. You suddenly feel light on your feet and your vision grows wavery, everything suddenly foggy and unfocused. 

“Oh, fuck,” you exhale before you feel yourself falling forward, about to hit the pavement…and you would’ve if Satoru didn’t catch you. He grunts as he grabs your arm and hugs you to him, positioning you so he’s carrying you bridal style.

You stare up into his blue eyes peaking out of his black mask before your vision is eaten up by darkness. “We’ve got you now, sweetie,” he whispers. “We’ll take good care of you. You’ll see.” 

“Wakey, wakey, babydoll. Let us know you’re still alive.”

Slowly, your eyes peel open and you’re staring into the ocean blues behind a black mask. The man attached to the mask wears a black and blue spandex suit with black gloves and boots. If it isn’t for the white hair and silky voice, you would not have recognized Satoru. “She lives!” he mockingly gasps. “Thank God. We thought you died on us, honey.” 

He grins at you, blinding you with his white teeth. You groan as you come to your senses, feeling achy and unbalanced. Slowly, you sit up, finding yourself on the floor in some secret room–it consists of a tiny cot bed, wooden boxes of food supplies, and a stool that Red Hood occupies. Suguru, you heard Satoru call him. He is still in his suit, but his mask is gone, revealing his handsome features and the snakebites embedded in his plump, pink bottom lip.

“W-Where am I?” you mutter. “Why do I feel so dizzy?” You place a hand on your head, still coming back to reality. You look around, seeing the towel under your head and your dress still intact. Did they…move you here? 

“You passed out after inhalin’ that smoke shit you blew at us,” Suguru explains from the stool, using a pocket knife to stab a hole in the drywall. He twists it to the right to the left, focusing hard on his movements. 

“I-I did?” you whisper. Then you panic, your memories flooding back. The smoke bomb. “Oh, no, no!” you gasp. “I have to get outta here! R-Right now!” Quickly, you try to rise to your feet only to slump back down, still dizzy. 

“Ah-ah, little miss,” Suguru tuts. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere right now.” He rises from his stool, arms crossed. His sleeves are rolled up to expose his muscular arms inked with tattoos but you ignore them…or you try to. “And who’s gonna stop me?” you growl at him, glaring up at him. 

Satoru glances at the both of you before rising to his feet, whistling. You watch him waltz over to a painting hanging up on the wall that you didn’t notice before and sloooowly moving it aside to reveal a tiny hole in the wall that Suguru surely made. “Well, them for one,” he replies, showing you a sliver of the museum lobby where you once were.

Only now, it’s surrounded by Gotham City cops. ‘Shit!’ you think. panicked. Someone called the cops?! What if Batman shows up too?! 

“And definitely not if you’re feelin’ weak,” Satoru adds, crossing his arms over his buff chest. “Whatever that sneak attack was is sneakin’ up on you too.”

You don’t answer, grabbing your clutch beside you and then feeling around your ear for… “My earpiece,” you gasp. “W-Where’s my earpiece?!” You begin to look around, searching the small room for the tiny black dot. “You’re what piece?” Satoru asks, confused. 

“That thing that her team was talkin’ in her ear with,” Suguru explains. “And don’t look at me. I don’t have it. Must’ve fallen out while you–”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish because you’re rising to your feet again only to stumble, falling into the wall. The two vigilantes quickly descend upon you, using their strong hands to help you out. “Hey, hey, relax,” Satoru gently says. “Sit down and take a breath.”

You watch them suspiciously as they sit you down on the edge of the bed, leaving you be once you’re off your feet. Why are they being so damn gentle with you? “Now explain,” Satoru firmly says, leaning against the wall. “Who are you? What’s the thing with robbin’ these museums?” 

Instead of answering, you keep quiet, stubborn and bratty. Satoru rolls his eyes at you like you’re a disobedient child. “Listen, we’re gonna be here for a while, so you may as well talk…unless you want us to alert one of these cops.” He picks up his fist and raps it quietly on the wall, making your heartbeat scatter.

Damn these damn vigilantes! Always one step ahead of you. “I’m a spy,” you begrudgingly confess. “I work for an underground organization that deals in jewel trafficking. I was tasked with stealing the diamond in the hopes of leading Batman to my boss.”

The two vigilantes share a look, silently talking to each other. Are they wondering what they'll do to you? How to torture you to make you talk? Will they use Suguru’s pocket knife to slice off your dress? Will they strip you down and spank you till you cry? Make you suck their big cocks until you’re begging for them to fuck you? Slide themselves inside of you and fill you up until you’re begging for them to stop?

You blink at the sudden onslaught of dirty, nasty thoughts and the images flashing across your brain. Where the fuck did that come from? 

And then you feel it: that warm flush that engulfs your body like you just stepped into a sauna. Then you feel your heartbeat accelerate, pumping hot blood until you can practically hear it throb. You press a hand to your forehead, finding it coated in sweat. What is happening to you?

The sound of Satoru’s silky voice doesn’t help your situation. If anything, it makes your body feel even weirder. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. And for what it's worth, sorry to ruin your mission too.” He pauses, cocking his head to the side and squinting at you as if he’s just now seeing you. “You’re a lot prettier than that diamond though.”

The compliment comes out of nowhere and he looks just as perplexed as you feel from it. “What?” you and Suguru both ask. You blink, seeing how pink Satoru’s cheeks are, noticing how Suguru is pulling at the collar of his skin-tight suit. 

Then it hits you. “Oh, no…the bomb! It’s working on us!” you lament, instantly scooting as far across the room as you can. As you try to check for loose structure in the wall to knock down and escape, the vigilantes share a confused glance. “What do you mean?” Suguru demands. “What the hell was in that thing anyway? Jesus, are you two as hot as I am right now?”

You are–it feels like the room has grown to about 100 degrees and is quickly rising. “It was an aphrodisiac bomb,” you weakly explain. “It was made with bi-products to help distract my target and weaken their defenses by using arousal.” 

You don’t look at the vigilantes as you continue to tap against the wall, searching for a way out. But are you really searching or just pretending so you don’t succumb to the temptation of the two irresistible men standing behind you? 

“Wait, you used a fuckin’ aphrodisiac on us?” Satrou growls. “Is that why I’m so goddamn…” He pauses, letting out a broken exhale that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

“This shit is workin’ fast,” Suguru exhales, suddenly sounding a lot closer. You feelin’ it too?” He’s asking you, but you don’t answer. You don’t even turn around, too afraid of your loss of control. You can’t trust yourself anymore. 

“I-It doesn’t matter. We have to get out of here now.” You try to stand again, bracing your hands on the wall, but your knees buckle, loose like jelly. “Oh, no!” you whimper, tears springing into your eyes. 

“Hey, hey,” Satoru coos. His hands are on you, gentle and supportive, helping you stand upright. “Relax, doll. You’re okay.” Not the pet names. God, no, anything but those! 

“You don’t understand,” you whisper, trying to wrangle yourself out of his hold. He feels too good, his broad chest pressed into your back. If this continues, you don’t know what will happen and that scares you. You’re supposed to be finishing this mission! 

“What don’t I understand?” he murmurs. “Tell me.” But you can’t. You can’t focus on anything except his strong, gloved hands on your waist and his silky voice in your ear. Slowly, he turns you around to face him and you’re staring deep into his sapphire eyes glistening at you from beneath his mask. 

“Your eyes are really pretty,” you hear yourself softly admit. His lips curl into a proud smile, all dimples and charm. “Thank you, baby. Yours ain’t too bad either.” 

And then suddenly, you’re kissing. You don’t know if you lean in or if he does, but at some point, the tension that the aphrodisiacs caused reach a boiling point, steaming and overflowing. Satoru’s lips are just as soft as they were earlier in the basement, but this time, his kiss is slow and seductive, taking his time to taste you. It feels so, so fucking good. 

“No,” you whimper against his lips, some of your common sense still lingering. “T-This is all wrong.” Even so, your hands feel up his chest, indulging in how big his pecs are beneath the spandex. 

Before Satoru can protest or argue, the thud of footsteps behind you stops him short. Suguru’s hand caresses your hair, brushing it away from your neck. “Only thing that’s wrong here is me not bein’ included,” he rasps. You begin to tremble, sandwiched between their big, hard bodies, each of them towering over you. You’ve never been so intimidated in your life. 

Satoru chuckles, soft and sexy, as his thumb strokes your cheek. Though he’s speaking to Suguru, his eyes stay planted firmly on you. “Join in if ya want. There's plenty of this bad girl to go around.” His fingers trail down to your chin, tilting your head up to stare up at him. “You deserve some punishment for pullin’ that little stunt on us, don’t you?”

Suguru hums in agreement, his fingers tangled in your hair. You can’t think, too distracted by the mingling scents of their cologne and your own arousal. “I-I don’t…” You dig your teeth into your bottom lip as Suguru toys with your dress zipper, making your skin tingle. “You don’t what?” the vigilante pushes, a teasing smile in his voice. “You don’t know? Oh, we think you know quite well, little lady.” 

“Y/N,” you murmur. “My name is Y/N.” Not that you hate the petnames, but it’s also because you want to hear them utter your name. Satoru smiles, pleased. “Pretty name. Better than that London shit you were goin’ with.” He is teasing you and it’s working its magic on you, totally hooking you to your targets.

Their kisses don’t make shit any better for you. They each share you one after the other, snatching you away if one of them is taking too long with your lips. Satoru’s kiss is more possessive and sloppy while Suguru is slow and seductive. However, their lips are soft and their tongues are tantalizing, drawing soft moans out of you as they push against you, trapping you between them.

You can’t get enough of their tastes; their tongues sliding against yours. Their big hands are roaming your body. Suguru sucking on your bottom lip while Satory caresses your neck, soft sighs and moans traveling between you. It is electric. It is magic. It is perfection. 

Your limbs feel loose like jelly. If it isn’t for the vigilantes holding you up, you’d definitely crumble to the floor. They have made you weak. Satoru chuckles as if sensing this, teasingly licking a stripe across your throat. “Poor baby. All she needed was a little attention.” He takes your hand and places it on his very hard, very throbbing dick. “And maybe a little dick too,” he pants. 

“Definitely not little over here,” Suguru teases. Oh, you can feel it. He is just as big and just as stiff as Satoru, pushing into your backside. You are sweating at this point, your pussy throbbing impatiently at the feeling of their bulges packed tight in their suits. “Don’t know about you though, Satoru,” Suguru smirkingly says.

Satoru tsks, rolling his eyes. “Liar. You know all about the weapon I’m carryin’, don’t you, baby boy?” Suddenly, he’s reaching over to grip Suguru’s arm and yanking him in for a sloppy kiss. You stare, shocked and aroused, their soft moans drifting through the air as their lounges slip against each other.

You weren’t expecting some hot shit like this…but you ain’t complaining either. Your body responds immediately: hard nipples, flushed cheeks, and a very wet pussy that drips down your thighs. Satoru’s blue eyes tick over to you and he pulls away, smirking. “Oooo, baby girl’s gettin’ turned on from seein’ her guys kiss, hm?” he chuckles. “What’s the matter, honey? Can’t take it?” 

Both vigilantes stare at you, their teasing making you shy. “N-No,” you stammer. Suguru raises a brow, not convinced. “Oh, no? Then prove it.” 

Suddenly, you’re indulging in your first three-way kiss. All soft lips, tongues, and moans that travel straight to your core, making it warm and fuzzy. Your pussy drips slick down your inner thighs as Satoru grinds against your front while Suguru rubs his cock against you from the back, making you feel every inch of them. The taste of champagne coming off of their tongues is intoxicating, making you drunker than any alcohol could.

Satoru pulls away, pulling his fat, pink tongue away from you. “Bet these lips would feel real good around my cock,” he whispers. You shiver at the dirty statement, biting your bottom lip. 

Suguru agrees with a hum. “Absolutely. How ‘bout it, mama? It’s okay to need a nice, fat dick in here, right?” His thumb swipes your bottom lip, making you tingle all throughout your body. 

His smile fades as he watches you watch him, his gaze molten hot and lustful. You have no choice but to watch him unbuckle his pants with one hand and unzip the front of his suit, pulling his cock out. Your eyes widen at inch at his long, thick, pulsing shaft protruding from a nest of black curls. Especially at the glistening silver ball at his bulbous head.

Red Hood has a dick piercing.  

“Suck that dick f’me,” he demands, his tone firm and serious. “It’s the least you can do for the trouble you caused.” You feel your eyes watering and your lips quivering. Everything in you is screaming at you not to comply…but there is one part nesting in the deepest, darkest depths of your being that is interested and curious. You’ve always wondered how Red Hood and Nightwing looked and tasted…and now, you’re about to find out. 

But as you kneel on the bed before Suguru, facing his thick cock, you start to gulp. He smirks, cocky, dick bobbing in your face without him even using his hands. “Too big, mama? Don’t worry. You can try on this.” He then glides his gun out of his bat belt and holds it out to you, making your eyes widen and your heart pump. “Suck, slutty girl. Let’s see whatcha got.” 

And to your utter surprise, you wrap your lips around the gun and suck. You stare into Suguru’s eyes as you blow the pistol in your face, its cold metal warmed by your soft, lush lips. Satoru watches, just as astonished and aroused as Suguru is, as your throat sinks lower down the barrel. “Mmm, no gag reflex? That’s my kinda girl.” 

Suguru’s violet eyes grow dark with lust as you bob up and down the gun, hollowing your cheeks. “Mine too. Keep those eyes up here, mama. Let me see that pretty face.” He reels you in like a fish on a hook with those eyes, hooded and piercing, drinking in the way you suck off his gun. Your spit coats the cold metal, your lips quivering when you catch his finger on the trigger. 

You can only hope that it’s unloaded, but to your surprise, you don’t feel fear; only a thrill. But you get a thrill like no other once Suguru has had enough of the foreplay and decides to finally feed you his big dick. “Time to show me what that mouth can do…other than talk back.” 

You stare at the thick cock in front of you, the silver balls teasingly glinting at you. Swallowing your pride, you start by kissing and licking along Suguru’s shaft, introducing yourself to his dick. He softly groans and hums in enjoyment at your ministrations, pushing his hips forward.

He does so in a way that makes his cock slip between your lips and in your mouth without your permission. You gasp as his thick cock passes the threshold of your mouth, the taste of him all over your tongue. “Mmm, that’s a good girl,” he moans, using one hand to grab the back of your head. 

His deep thrusts cause your hair to loosen from its updo, your curls falling down. Quickly, they are swept up by a fist, held up out of your face so you can focus on swallowing the dick down your throat. “Allow me,” Satoru hums. “Can’t suck good dick if your hair is in the way.” 

He then pushes you forward onto Suguru’s dick, making you take him deeper. You force yourself to open your throat and to breathe through your nostrils in an effort not to choke. “Shit,” Suguru groans, watching as your lush lips stretch around his dick, taking him to the hilt. “You’re so good at this, angel. You make me wanna fuckin’ cu–” 

“My turn. You’re takin’ too fuckin’ long,” Satoru quips, tearing you off of Suguru’s cock. The long-haired vigilante glares daggers at the Nightwing as he takes his place, smirking down at you. “Be prepared for some greatness, sweetie.” 

Zzzzip. Satoru smirks as he unzips his pants and slides his dick right out for you to behold. He is just as thick as Suguru but lightly curved, leaning with a hook. He is all smooth skin and muscle, not a stitch of hair coating his pelvis except for his thighs. “Like whatcha see, naughty girl? That sneak attack made me so hard f’you.”

He bites his lip as he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it oh-so slowly in your face. The little beads of pre-cum at the head drizzle down his shaft like the droplets of an ice cream cone. 

He hisses as his thumb strokes the sensitive underside of his head, his bottom lip quivering. “A-Ah–catch it, babes. Don’t let me go to waste now.”

You don’t know what possesses you to stick your tongue out to lick up the salty droplets. Maybe the drug or how hot he looks so desperate for you. Either way, you lick up his pre-cum and then suck on his cock like you mean it, hollowing your cheeks to take him easier. Suguru watches close by in both envy and arousal, stroking his fat dick as his eyes flick between you on your knees and Satoru fucking your throat.

Satoru lets out a loud, throaty groan, one hand tangled in your hair. “That’s it, cutie pie,” he groans. “Take that fuckin’ cock. Y’know, you’re almost better at this than ya are fightin’.” He pushes in deeper, making you gag and nearly triggering that button in the back of your throat, making you gag. Satoru loudly groans at the feeling of your throat flexing around him. “You should think about changin’ occupations…bein’ a little cocksucker is way more fittin’ for ya, pardon the vulgarity.” 

He begins to fuck your face now, slowly at first, but he is still brutal and rough. You have to force yourself to keep breathing to avoid throwing up all over his dick. “You could be my little cock slut,” he growls. “My baby. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” 

Yes. 

You gurgle and gag in response, your throat forced to flex around his cock interrupting its natural state. You feel as if your throat and mouth are being molded into his personal fleshlight with the way he fucks your face, grunting and groaning like a desperate man. His balls slap against your chin, filling your nose with the scent of his cologne and his dick, making for an extra arousing aroma. 

“Time’s up,” Suguru says, his voice rasped with need. “You’re either sharin’ or you’re not, Satoru. Don’t be greedy.” He practically shoves the Nightwing out of the way, making Satoru roll his eyes. “Well, sorry,” he snorts. “I didn’t realize you were feenin’ for her mouth, Red Hood. Just look at all that pre-cum!” 

Sure enough, Suguru is dripping pre down his fist, oozing down to his heavy balls. Satoru smirks as the Red Hood taps his cock against your plush lips, softly moaning. “You gonna drink it all up for him, baby?” he coos. “Be a good girl and lick it aaaalll up for us.” 

You do so, licking up Suguru’s pre-cum before he pushes in and uses your mouth again. And then passes you off to Satoru. They allow you to stroke both of their dicks in time with your sucking, alternating between each one in your face, throbbing hard. Their groans and whimpers egg you on, making you ignore the ache in your jaw and how your mascara drips just to hear more of their pleasure. 

You’ve never been used in such a way. You are being resorted to nothing but a toy. A hole for the vigilantes’ own use. Saliva drips from your chin and down onto your tits, making you slick and pussy like another part of you between your thighs. The more they fuck, the more your cunt throbs and pulses in anticipation for it to be fucked the same way. 

What is wrong with you? You can only ask yourself this question with every passing moment that your mouth is used like a fleshlight, blowing each dick like it’s your job. Soon, the vigilantes have had their fill though they haven’t cum yet. “Not bad, cutie,” Satoru pants, cheeks flushed. “Now we gotta give our girl a reward, don’t we, Sugu?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Suguru hums, stroking loose hairs out of your face. “Need to make sure you’re ready for us later.”

Excitedly, your eyes tick down to their throbbing dicks again, your pussy throbbing impatiently for either one…or both. Then you catch the glint of Satoru’s handcuffs dangling from his belt. He smirks, taking them out for you. “Oh, you want these?” he teases, dangling the cuffs in your face. “Can’t say I ain’t been wantin’ to cuff your ass all night. I think it’s fittin’ for a naughty girl like you.” 

He crooks his finger at you, causing you to stand on wobbly legs. You softly gasp when he suddenly forces you to turn around, facing the bed post. “Hands behind your back, pretty. Let’s hike up this dress too.” You swallow as you obey his sultry command, allowing Satoru to carefully cuff your hands behind your back.

Meanwhile, Suguru kneels down to hike up your dress over your hips. As he does, their groans of arousal at the sight of your plump ass in your lace panties make you gush in your panties. Before you know it, you’re getting bent over the edge of the bed, presenting your ass to the both of them. “Good, baby?” Satoru murmurs, thoughtfully stroking your ass. You nod, unable to speak.  

SMACK!

You gasp as his palm connects with your ass, hard, making tears spring into your eyes. “What was that?” Satoru asks. The fiery sting makes you flinch, but your pussy has never been wetter. You’re feening at this point, needing dick like you need water to drink. You look over your shoulder at Satoru, drowning in his molten hot gaze. “Yes, I’m okay, sir,” you whisper. 

Satoru and Suguru share a praiseful smile, cooing at your obedience. “So polite! Why weren’t you this sweet earlier, hm?” Satoru hums, pressing a kiss to your ass. But then Suguru tugs on your wrists, making you grunt. “Such a little brat,” he growls. “Lucky for you, mama, I love me some bratty girls.”

Satoru hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to your panties, making you whimper. “Me too…so just what should we do to a bratty pussy like yours?” His bottom lip drags over your ass, his fat tongue licking down, down to your inner thighs. Suguru kneels with him, teasing you with his soft lips and cool tongue piercing, bathing your skin in his spit.

Your body feels unbalanced and your legs are wobbly. To some degree, you’re thankful for the bedside to hold you up as you feel Suguru’s big hands glide down your ass and thighs. Then, suddenly, you feel his breath caressing your asscheeks and something cool on your skin. 

You realize what it is when you feel your wet panties slice off of your body. A knife. “Don’t fret, mama. This is just to get these panties off…but if you want, I can use it on the dress too.” He presses the cool metal of the knife into your thigh, making you feel the jagged edges. 

“You can be a good girl for us, can’t you?” he whispers, a wicked smile in his voice. He doesn’t give you the chance to answer before lightly licking you against your slit. You gasp, your wrists straining against the cuffs. His big hands glide up to force your hips back, causing your ass to jut into his face. “F-Fuck!” you stammer, gasping as sparks of pleasure explode through your core. You can’t even grip anything because of your cuffed wrists, so you resort to curling your toes in your heels.

“Don’t leave me outta this,” Satoru purrs. “I want a lick too.” You feel him give your ass a wet, open-mouthed kiss, making you moan as Suguru slides his fat tongue up to tease your clit. “You can handle both of us, can’t you, babydoll? A tough girl like you?” 

Neither of them give you a chance to answer. Instead, your pitiful moans and slutty whimpers answer for them, filling the small room along with the soft, wet sloshing of their tongues caressing your dripping pussy. They hum enjoyment, licking and sucking away at your pussy that seems to grow wetter with every ministration of their tongues. 

“O-Oh, shit,” you whimper. “Mmm, fuck!” You try to hold back your moans, but you can’t. Plus, the knife against your thigh doesn’t allow you. One wrong move or something that Suguru doesn’t like, and that knife could be cutting your skin…and that turns you on like you’ve never been in your life. 

So let them do as they please. But you don’t really have a choice either. All you can do is shake and shudder as Sugruu sucks on your ass and Satoru swirls his tongue around your clit before he dips the muscle inside of you, moaning at your taste. Your mouth falls open on a loud moan, his soft lips cushioning your clit. 

Satoru lightly pulls on your pussy lips, earning a whimper from you. “Isn’t this so much better than fightin’ us, baby?” he asks before French kissing your cunt once again. He kisses you sloppily and messily, his tongue licking and sliding this way and that. 

At some point, you hear him and Suguru making out with your pussy between them, their soft moans and hot pants fanning across each sensitive part of your pussy, making you a panting, overstimulated mess. You push your ass into their faces, riding their tongues, desperation blooming in your core along with the familiar warm, budding sensation of an oncoming orgasm. 

“Please!” you whine. “A-Ah…oh, fuck, please!”

Satoru smiles, still licking and sucking your pussy with all of the vigor of a hungered man. “I like you beggin’,” he replies. “Do it again for us, nice and pretty.” You have no choice when he continues on slurping on your cunt and fucking your hole, his nose swiping against your clit. 

“Please, please, please!” you sob. “Please let me cum!” Your begging must satisfy the vigilantes because their tongues move a little faster, their pace causing your body to quake against the restrictions of the cuffs. Their hot, wet mouths cause your orgasm to wash over you quickly yet powerfully, controlling every part of your body. You let out a whine of pleasure as your cum explodes in their mouths, drenching their lips in your juices. 

While you’re still cumming, Suguru, ever the sadist, presses his thumb against your clit as his knife skates up to press against your pussy lips, the cold metal making you whine. “Cum more for us, baby,” he coos. “You can do it.” Then Satoru is shoving his tongue up inside of you, making you damn near scream. Fuck!” you explode as your orgasm peaks, making your eyes roll back and your legs shake. 

You don’t even realize that you’re squirting until you hear the vigilantes exclaim in surprise, catching every drop in their mouths. “Oh, shit, she’s a squirter!” he says with glee. “That’s too fuckin’ sexy.” 

Your eyes roll back as your hips buck and your pussy quivers, more and more of your honey exploding onto the vigilantes’ tongues until you are absolutely spent. Even when you slump against the bed, exhausted, Suguru stands behind you, dick up and ready to blow. Pla-pla-plap goes his cock slapping against your sensitive clit, making you hiss. 

“We ain’t done yet so you’d better get it together,” he softly demands, his big hands gripping your ass. Instantly, your stomach grows fluttery with butterflies and your core grows warm. You know exactly what is coming next. You can’t stop. You can’t avoid it. And more frighteningly, you’re not even sure if you don’t want it. 

Especially when Suguru finally slides that big, thick, long cock inside of you. Slick and open from your orgasm, he makes his home between your velvety walls, making you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt in your life. He groans into your ear while your mouth falls agape on a silent moan. “God, you’re tight!” he hisses, already bumping his hips back and forth against your ass. Slow and deep. 

You think you’re already feeling pleasure until Satoru gets involved, still kneeling behind you. He hooks one of your legs up and Suguru takes control, keeping your leg hiked up as the Nightwing tilts his chin up to face your pussy getting stretched out on some dick. “C’mere, you two,” he pants. “I wanna hear you both scream.” Then his fat tongue is caressing your clit and Suguru’s balls as the vigilante pounds you from behind. 

You are a moaning, whining mess, damn near drooling in pleasure. Suguru digs his nails into the fleshy part where your ass meets your hip, his fingers indulging in your body. “Fuck, baby!” he grunts into your ear, panting hotly. Even he can’t get a grip on himself. Your pussy feels too good wrapped around him, stroking him of all he’s worth. 

“Take it,” he demands. “Take that fuckin’ dick. You know you need it.” His other hand grips your neck, keeping a strong grip on your throat as he fucks into your wet heat. “So let me give it to you,” he huffs. “Lemme give you everything that pussy needs!” 

His hips hammer harder and faster into your ass, making it quiver and recoil. Your moans are loud and high-pitched, unable to be silenced due to his pistoning thrusts. He fucks you like a machine, pumping in and out, out and in, his cock pulsing inside of you. “F-Fuck!” you stammer. “Wait, S-Sugu! You’re going t-too fast!” 

Your pussy feels like it’s going into overload, being stuffed too much and too quickly. Satoru’s tongue doesn’t make things any better; he is a master with his tongue, giving you sloppy licks and sucks as his partner fills you up again and again. Tears spring into your eyes as Suguru grips your throat tighter, cutting off your air for just a moment. “Oh, but you can take it, can’t you, tough girl?” he chuckles. “You’re bein’ so good already.” 

Short moans and gasps leave your lips as he continues to squeeze, still fucking you dumb. Your knees buckle and your head feels fuzzy from the overstimulation and the grip on your throat. The pleasure somehow mounts to astronomical heights, leaving you a dumb, mindless mess. 

You’re about to cum. Your target is going to make you burst all over his big, fat cock as if you’re his lover and he’s deserving of all of it. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you warn. “Please, please let me cum, sir! I can’t take it!” You grip the cuffs for dear life as he fucks and fucks and fucks you. Your knuckles go pale, an indication of the pleasure you’re experiencing. 

Satoru chuckles, enjoying your torture, staring up at your bouncing tits above him. “Aww, but the fun just started, baby,” he condescendingly coos. “You gonna cum already? Is that vigilante dick just too good?” You whimper in response, your eyes fluttering closed. 

SMACK! 

Satoru slaps your clit hard, making it sting. “I don’t hear an answer,” he growls. You sob, tears threatening to drip down your cheeks. “Yes! Yes, it feels so fucking good!” you babble. You can feel yourself careening closer to orgasm, your head going blank as you get closer to the edge…

And then Suguru slows his pace, putting an end to your euphoria. “Then we’ll need to make it feel extra good,” Satoru cackles, his blue eyes glittering with wickedness. “I wanna fuck her too, Suguru. Don’t be greedy now.” He stands up, his hand on his fat, hard dick pulsing for you. 

Suguru looks between you and Satoru, raising an eyebrow. “So you wanna steal her other pretty hole? Is that it?” You blink, the gears in your brain turning, processing what your “other pretty hole” means. They can’t possibly mean–

“W-Wait, wait,” you protest as Suguru maneuvers your body, turning you around so he’s holding you up. You squeak, staring at a wall of broad chest and tattoos inking his pecs. “I-I’m not–”

“Ready?” Satoru finishes, smirking as he gets behind you, one leg hiked up to expose your dripping pussy to the both of them. “Don’t worry, babycakes! We’ve got you. That’s what these fat tongues are here for.”

Again, you’re bent over the bed and the vigilantes’ are sharing your hole again. Only this time it’s your asshole. They spit and slobber into your puckered hole, your asscheeks pried apart in their gloved hands. All you can do is moan and whine as they lick and suckle on your asshole, even using their fingers to gently fuck you there until you’re good and open. 

“Oooo, look at that gape!” Satoru cackles, grinning at the way you’re so stretched and open now for some dick. “You’re nice and ready for me now, cutie pie. You’re gonna look so beautiful stuffed with our dicks.” 

You whimper, your body burning with need and arousal. You’ve never been this horny in your life. You suspect that Batman will come at any minute to toss you in a mental facility because of how diabolically, deviously horny you are for his protégé. “Let’s get these cuffs off of you,” Suguru murmurs, taking Satoru’s key to unshackle you.

Once you’re uncuffed, you’re sandwiched between the vigilantes again, a prisoner in two walls of muscle. You are facing Suguru again, your arms around his neck, moaning as he gives you a slow, sloppy kiss, while Satoru is behind you. 

He rubs his cock against your asshole, making you whimper at the feeling of something so hot and hard trying to enter you there. “Don’t you wanna be a big girl for us?” he coos. “Don’t you wanna prove how tough you are?” You feel his tip lightly brush your entrance and flinch, nails digging into Suguru’s chest. “T-Toru,” you stammer. “Please…”

Satoru shushes you, peppering your neck in minty, champagne-spiked kisses. “S’okay, doll, we’ve gotchu. Nice and slow now…” He nods at Suguru and together, they hold you up by your leg and sink deeeeep inside of your holes.

You gasp, your eyes widening as you see twinkling stars. There is a slight burn as Satoru shoves himself in your asshole, but it is numbed by Suguru in your pussy, pleasure and pain mixing into one. After some slow, gentle strokes, they go harder, deeper, faster. Skin against skin. Moans in your ear. 

You feel stretched. You feel full. You feel used. And you feel absolutely, positively amazing. 

“Ah, fuck, baby, yes!” Satoru moans into your ear, pawing at your tits and ass like you’ll vanish if he doesn’t. “God, you–ngh, feel so fuckin’ good!” 

Suguru locks a hand around your throat and presses his lips to your ear, his lip ring cool against the shell. “A pussy like this would make me ditch the cape. Make me rob a fuckin’ bank for you.” 

He loosens his hold on your neck, allowing you time to breathe. But you can’t breathe. You can’t even speak. Your mind is full of cock, unable to focus on anything but Satoru’s big thighs slapping against yours and Suguru’s handsome, flushed face, their dicks pummeling into you. Their thrusts grow quick and brutal, turning your pussy and asshole into mush, making your clit sing and your brain fall right out of your noggin. You are gone. And so are the vigilantes. 

“Ngh–Goddamn, you feel so good,” Satoru groans, gripping your ass so hard that he’ll leave fingerprints. “How are you this fuckin’ tight?” His hand comes around to toy with your lips, his long fingers prying them apart so you can suck on his digits. 

“You’ve got me so c-close,” Suguru grunts in your ear, stammering out his words. “N-Need…oh, fuck, I need to go harder.” Harsh pants and heavy breaths leave his lush lips as he fucks you faster, his balls slapping against your clit. “You want that too, mama? Do you want us to make you cum again?”

You bounce on their cocks between them, leaving crescent marks in Suguru’s shoulders as you dig your nails into his skin. “Ah, yes, yes, please! Make me cum again!” The two vigilantes slow their thrusts for a moment to share a look, silently telling each other the same thing: let’s slut this girl out.

Suddenly, you’re posted on your back with Satoru underneath you and Suguru on top, forcing you into semi-mating press with Suguru holding your legs open for his partner. Your moans and whines of pleasure bounce off of the walls as Suguru taps his dick against your pussy, ready to give you deep-dicking like you never had. “Ready, baby?” he whispers against your lips. “Beg for it.”

“Suguru–”

SMACK!

This time, both vigilantes spank you, on your pussy and your ass, the double assault making you yelp. “Beg,” Satoru growls in your ear, gripping your throat. His cock is nestled deep in your ass, not moving, just there, driving you to the brink of insanity. You can’t think. You can only feel. 

“Please fuck me,” you whimper out. “Make me cum again, sirs. Please.” 

And so they do. They fuck you until you’re seeing stars and forgetting all about your stupid mission. They fuck you with all the mercy of sinners, drilling your holes. They fuck you into the rickety little bed until it rocks and squeaks, fuck whoever hears. Satoru fucks up into your ass while Suguru rams your pussy, the push and pull of their thrusts pulling your soul right out of you. 

It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to snap. “Oh, fuck!” you whine, damn near screaming for all to hear as you cum hard around Suguru’s cock. You don’t have time to warn them–it just happens, exploding out of you. Suguru moans as you tighten around him, drawing his cum right out of him. “Cum for me,” he groans. “Shit–c’cmon, baby, cum! Give it to me!” 

Your orgasm hits you hard and intensely, sending you on a trip as you thrash in the vigilantes’ hands. Your pussy and ass grip their dicks tighter than a vice as you cream onto Suguru’s cock, coating them both from cockhead to balls in your juices. They share a slutty moan in pleasure by how tight you’ve grown, gripping and stroking them until they have no choice but to cum. 

Satoru’s thrusts grow sloppy as your asshole massages the spunk out of his dick, making him whine in pleasure. “Gonna cum!” he whines. “F-Fuck, I’mma cum for you, baby!” 

“Me too,” Suguru groans, eyes squeezed tight from how tight you are. How velvety and wet you feel. “Take it all…all of it! It’s all for you.” 

You gasp as you feel two hot loads of cum shoot deep into your holes, making you gasp. The moans of release that escape the men are fit for a porno, their thrusts growing sloppier and erratic as they chase their orgasms inside of you. But that isn’t enough for them. Slowly, still hard as rocks, they pull out and have you on your knees so they can pump the rest onto you. 

Their moans, gasps, and grunts fill the room as warm spunk hits your face, dripping down your cheeks, lips, neck, and juicy tits, making your skin sobbing wet and sticky with him. Your breath comes out in short puffs of air as you recover from the vigorous fucking, completely spent. You kneel there, body aching, pussy and ass sore from being stretched. 

You feel perfect. Even when the effects of the bomb begin to wear off, you still feel that addictive satisfaction that comes after some good sex. Even when the vigilantes recover and that awkwardness grows in the room, you feel no regrets. You can’t help but wonder what it means. 

After a while, still in the bed with each other, Satoru is the first one to speak. “Well, uh…that was unexpected.” He clears his throat, cheeks flushed pink. Even Suguru looks shy now, his muscles glinting in sweat. You don’t say anything, too afraid to do so. You aren’t too sure what to say anyhow. You desperately want to say something to cure this horrible silence, but Satoru beats you to it. “So…what do we do now?”

Suguru, tying his hair up in a long, sexy ponytail, looks around for a solution. “Guess find a way to get out of here without alertin’ the cops. What do you think?” He looks at you now, expectantly. 

You feel hot with their eyes on you now, a lump growing in your throat. “U-Uh…well, sure. But it might be awhile before the side effects of the bomb wear off.” The words are out before you can stop them. What exactly are you implying? That you want them to stay? That you want more? 

You open your mouth to try and take it back, but Suguru is already agreeing: “She’s right. We’ll definitely need to recuperate.” You gape at him, surprised, and see the little wink he shoots you. Satoru yawns, stretching his muscular arms high over his head. “Sounds like a plan. I think that bomb had a sleep potion too!”

You feel those damn butterflies return, realizing that tonight isn’t over. “But there’s only one bed though,” you state, looking at the small, rickety bed you’re sitting on. The vigilantes just smirk at each other and then at you, making you burn. 

“Then I guess we’ll have to share,” Suguru coos, raising an expectant eyebrow at you. That won’t be a problem though, will it?” 

You don’t dare tell him that it isn’t. You just let them sandwich you between them in the bed, limbs tangled and the afterglow engulfing you the same way your vigilantes do. You can’t hide the satisfied smile that grows on your lips as silence descends upon you again…but this time, it’s nothing but bliss. 

“We should be safe to depart here,” Suguru murmurs, coaxing you to walk up the small staircase to the rooftop first. 

You do so, your high heels clicking across the gravel as you sneak into the night air. The vigilantes follow right after, now in their super suits and masks. After some recovery and after-sex cuddling, Suguru passed you a towel to sob up the cum from your skin and Satoru found your clothes.

After slipping your dress back on like nothing happened, you snuck out of the room with the vigilantes through a loose floorboard that dropped you into the basement. From there, you went out the back of the museum and up the fire escape to the rooftop, figuring that escaping by air would be better than risking being seen by a cop. 

The side effects of the bomb have since worn off, but the feelings of lust are still there. After such amazing sex with the two heroes, it is impossible to not crave more. You stand before them now in the night air, the starry sky the perfect backdrop for them. Satoru clears his throat, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, uh…this was fun. Pretty interestin’ night, I’d say.” 

“Yeah,” you awkwardly say, your heart pummeling in your chest. You stare at both of them, trying to get a sense of where their heads are at from their eyes. “So you guys gonna go back to the batcave to discuss this or–” 

Beep, beep, beep!

“Night Owl? Come in, Night Owl. What's happening over there?!” The panicked voice of your boss comes from in your clutch. You gasp, unzipping it and fishing out your earpiece. You had it this entire time?! 

The vigilantes look just as shook as you feel when you clear your throat, already sensing the inevitable. “Night Owl is present, boss,” you say as firmly as you can into your ear piece. “I’m alive. Um…just out of curiosity, how much of that did you hear?”

You desperately hope that your boss is clueless as to what you’re talking about, but you know you won’t be that lucky. Judging by his awkward pause, you guess he heard everything. “Uh…just enough. Did you find the targets?” 

You try to think of something professional to say while also letting the vigilantes off the hook, but Satoru speaks for you. “Oh, she did!” he chirps with a grin. “And now she’s about to make us talk with some extra torture device. Thanks for checkin’ in!” 

Quickly, you end the call and toss the ear piece back into your clutch. “I’m so totally fired,” you sigh. Satoru shrugs, placing a hand on your shoulder, making your skin tingle. “You could always come work with us. Wouldn’t mind havin’ you around for some Gotham bullshit.” His smirk is sexy yet genuine. Not a hint of humor in it. He’s serious. 

You cock your head at him, sizing him up with your eyes. You did your best to fix the makeup that the cum wiped off, including your pretty eyeshadow and mascara. “I thought you work alone,” you tease with a hand on your hip. “Especially you, Red Hood.”

You nod at the tall, long-haired vigilante who has been checking you out for all the minutes you were chatting with Satoru. “I do…but you’ve got some potential.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, eyeing you up and down. “You’d definitely need to be trained to be my trusted sidekick though.” 

Your body zings at the flirty banter between you, so natural and easy as if you’d been doing it for years. “I’m nobody’s sidekick,” you scoff, eyeing the superheroes down. “But I’ll give it some thought.” Satoru rolls his eyes like you’re playing so hard to get while Suguru chuckles. “Fine. In the meantime, you keep your hands to yourself.”

The Nightwing puts his hand out for a shake. After some time sizing up his intentions, you take it, shaking his head, only to gasp when he pulls you into his body. His lips are suddenly at your ear, his voice low and hushed. “Unless you want another personal visit,” he purrs in your ear. 

Lucky for you, you know how to play the game of seduction. Plus, the idea of toying with the sexy vigilantes of Gotham, making them lose their cool, doesn’t seem too unexciting. “Hm. I may just take you up on that,” you hum into Satoru’s ear, gently kissing his cheek and leaving a ring of gloss there.

You do the same to Suguru, standing up on your tip toes to give him a kiss. You feel his body stiffen as you leave a sticky print there, marking him up. Then you take a step back, smiling coyly. “Thanks for the fun tonight, boys,” you purr to them. “And for the souvenirs.” 

Their dreamy expressions turn to confusion, brows scowled. Your smile widens as you flash them the diamond in your clutch before quickly getting out your rope gun and hitting the button. 

Before either of them can yank you back, you’re soaring through the air across the rooftop and landing perfectly in your heels on the rooftop across from the museum. You turn back to them staring at you in awe, but they are smiling. “You little sneak!” Satoru yells across the night at you. “We’ll get you back for that, Night Owl!”

You blow each of them a kiss, winking. “Lookin’ forward to it!” you giggle. “Farewell, batbrains!” 

And then you strut off into the night, feeling like a new woman. 

THE END.

You should be chilling on this beautiful beach or by the pool in your childhood home in a bikini, sunglasses on your face with a big glass full of something strong. Or even attempting to surf a wave like you used to before you quit surfing for good. 

Not here in a lifeguard uniform with enough sunscreen on your body to coat an elephant, bored out of your mind and on the verge of insanity. You've been doing this for only two weeks now and you already want to quit. 

You thought that coming back to your old seaside town after a year in the city attending university would allow you the relaxation and decompression you needed before heading back in the fall to start your new semester...and officially becoming an adult. 

You didn't feel quite like an adult even after you graduated high school and went to college in a city far, far away from your little town by the shore. Precisely a train to the airport, a plane ride, and a taxi away. This school was at the top of your list when it came to biology, with their acclaimed (and expensive) science program and influx of internships. 

Since you were a little girl watching 'The Little Mermaid' and obsessing over the aquatic mammals at the aquarium, you've wanted to be a marine biologist. You've always been attracted to water, fish, and the big, beautiful sea. You carry a sea turtle plushie around (even to took it to college!) and own about five different shark figurines. 

Getting through your major was hard, especially in an unfamiliar place, but you and your parents knew that you had to spread your wings in order to succeed. Once you aced your exams and got a job after interning with an aquarium your freshmen year, it seemed like all the stress and rough days were worth it. 

Going to school away from home was the best decision you ever made, you believe. You've met so many people, explored so many places in the city, and did all the things your small town wouldn't allow, yet you never forgot about where you came from. 

So when the opportunity came to return home for the summer came, you took it...including this part-time job as a lifeguard. While it isn't ideal, the money is going towards student loans, books, and tuition. Plus the uniforms are cute: a red bathing suit reading 'Lifeguard' in white letters on the front, a whistle, and a hat. 

After being back in town for two weeks and being gone for a year, it seems like barely anything has changed. The only thing that has are the people. Shoko, your longtime friend and one of the lifeguards, has grown out her chestnut brown hair and cut down on smoking. Two more trainees, Yuji Itadori and Todo Aoi, have been hired to join the crew. 

There seems to be more kids and tourists surrounding the beach and boardwalk now, taking advantage of the sun and trinket shops. Your parents have gotten older, but still fuss over you and their beach house. The scent in the air is still the same breezy, sea-scented air you've always loved. 

But there is one person you haven't seen yet that you wonder will ever come back...and then you stop yourself. Why are you thinking about him? 

'He left before you finished high school,' you think to yourself, scoldingly. 'He isn't thinking about you, so why are you thinking about him? He's the reason you quit surfing!' 

Not just competitive surfing, but surfing period. Because every time you got on that board and tasted the saltwater, you were reminded of him. He sucked the freedom and joy out of it, not to mention made you feel incompatible with his skills. It became a competition with you two: who can surf the longest? Who can ride the biggest wave? 

Until he kissed you and left without ever saying goodbye or keeping in touch. After that, you quit for good. 

So you go back to your job of overlooking the beach, occasionally blowing on your whistle, and checking out the hot guys that the beach has to offer. Your hometown always had its studs, practically serving one up to you now: he is a tall, long-haired drink of water, his body practically built from granite stone. 

He has his back turned to you as he stands near the water, wiping down his board, so you can't see his face, but you notice the tattoos roping his arms and his back dimples. You peer at him behind your shades, glad to have a discreet hiding place high on top of your tower. 

You watch as the sexy stranger drags his board out into the water and slides onto it stomach-first, paddling into the sea. He passes by splashing kids and relaxing adults, swimming deeper and deeper into the water. You scowl in confusion at him as he passes the line, even as a big wave comes hurdling towards him. "What the hell is he doing?" you whisper to yourself. 

You lift your whistle to blow, but stop when the man stands up, his arms out and feet planted firmly on the surfboard. He then begins surfing the wave, doing so as if he has done this many times before. The sun glints in his long, black locks and against his toned body as he twists against the wave. Chasing it. Dancing with it. It's quite impressive. 

"Y/N!" someone calls. You snap out of your trance and look down to see Shoko in her uniform and sunglasses. "It's your break time. We can switch now." 

You sigh in relief, happy to have some time alone and get something to eat. But as you are gathering your beach bag, you hear a sudden scream. "Help!" someone wails. "Please someone help him! He's drowning!" 

"Surfer overboard!" another calls. "He's too far out! Can anybody swim?!" 

You snap your head towards the commotion at the same time as Shoko, both of you in savior mode thanks to your training. A small group of people have surrounded the shoreline where they look out at the surfboard currently being swept up by the waves. But no surfer. 

Quickly, you jump from the tower and land perfectly on the sand before dropping your bag and racing over to the crowd. "What happened?" you demand. They all looked relieved to see you. 

"He swam out too far, got hit with a wave, and fell off his board," one kid rushes to explain, clutching an inflatable donut to his chest. "We tried to throw a floatie at him, but he's too far!" 

You look out to where the surfer is currently, the water rippling being an indication of where he sunk. "Stay here," you order before ripping off your hat and gunning for the water. You blow your whistle three times-a sign that someone has drowned-and Shoko and the other lifeguards quickly get people away from the water. 

You have only saved about two people in your life since the beginning of your lifeguard position. This is the third time, but like the other times, your training comes rushing back to you, making you act quick. 

With your red 'Lifeguard' rescue tube strapped to your body, you dive into the water and begin to swim as fast as you can towards the surfer. You pop your head up every so often to breathe and make sure you're heading in the right direction, catching glimpses of the surfer's black hair. 

Your limbs burn the more you push yourself in the undercurrent that pushes back, but you continue to move, knowing that if you don't, this poor person will die. Luckily, you finally make it to him and manage to snatch his arm in the water. "Gotcha!" you grunt, pulling him towards you. 

You feel your heart jump at how deep the water is, the floor nowhere in sight, but you use your rescue tube for the both of you. You fling the surfer's arm over the tube while you do the same, the both of you now floating together with your other arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

The man sputters, his wet, black hair covering his face. You pat his back to get the rest of the water out, trying not to pay attention to his sexy neck and shoulder tattoos. "It's okay, sir," you pant. "Just breathe; I've got you." You push the man's hair back so he can breathe better. "Nothing is going to..." 

Your words die in your throat when you catch a glimpse of his very handsome, very familiar face. A face that you know all too well despite having not seen him three years. "Geto?!" you exclaim. 

Your old nemesis opens his eyes, his violet irises slightly unfocused. "Y/N?" he mumbles. "You..." His eyes flutter closed and his head lulls back before he can finish his sentence. 

Pushing away your shock at seeing him back in town, you quickly toss his other arm over your shoulder and begin to butterfly kick your way back to the shore, grunting from the dead weight of Geto. Fortunately, a white rope appears in front of you as a lifeline. "Ms. Y/N!" Todo calls from the shore. "Grab on! We'll pull you two back to safety!" 

As you wrap a hand around the rope and let yourself be pulled to the shore, you turn to stare at Geto. The sunlight glints against his skin and long lashes fanning his eyes. He looks the same but different; there are a few slight changes in his features. 

When you finally get him to shore and allow the lifeguards to help you lay him down on the sand, you see the changes more prominently. Back then, he had less tattoos and was quite lankier yet still clean. His hair was shoulder-length and he often wore it in buns. 

His hair is now down to his back and he has way more tattoos: a sleeve inks his left arm while his thick neck and right ribcage are inked. He is also buffer and bigger, lean muscles glinting with droplets of water in the golden sun rays. 

You would be thirsting after him if he wasn't practically dead or on your shit list. What the hell is he doing back here?!

"Jesus, Geto," Shoko hisses, looking upon the surfer in worry. You almost forgot her and Geto have always been close. "He's not breathing," someone gasps. "Wasn't he in the national surfer's championships earlier this year?" 

You are reminded of the past like a slap in the face: Geto had moved to Los Angeles to become a professional surfer. At the time, you were about to enter your sophomore year of high school while he just finished his senior year. The last time you saw him, he had thrown party to celebrate being drafted in the championships and his soft lips were on yours. 

"Everybody back up, please!" Yuji yells, bringing you back to reality. "Make room! Let the guy breathe and the lifeguard do her job." 

Now everyone's eyes are on you. 'Stop this,' you think to yourself. 'He almost drowned and you need to save him. He could die.' 

Quickly, you kneel before Geto and stare down at his plump lips. You swallow hard, biting back a grunt of frustration. You lean down and pry his lips open, tilting his head back for easier access. "You'd better not be faking," you hiss before you press your open mouth to his. 

You begin to exhale into his mouth, filling his air with lungs. The crowd waits with bated breath, watching you save the golden boy. Finally, Geto lurches beneath you and you quickly leap away to let him recover. 

He sputters before lurching forward and coughing up the water in his throat, retching on the sand. When he finally stops, he lays back on the sand, taking deep breaths, and his violet eyes lull to the side to stare at you. "Y-Y/N?" he murmurs, recognition flickering in them. "So I wasn't hallucinating earlier. That was really you." 

You would laugh if this situation wasn't so dire. "Yeah," you reply. "It's me." A slight smile appears on Geto's lips. "It's been so long," he softly says. "How are you doin'? You graduated, right?" 

Quickly, you reassess the situation and allow Todo and Yuji to help him up. "Uh, let's talk after you get yourself checked out," you say. "Todo, please escort this man to get some first aid for his knee please." 

The big, buffed boy nods, already leading Geto away by his shoulders as the crowd disperses. "You got it, Ms. Y/N!" But as they head towards the small lifeguard hut, Geto turns to look at you over his shoulder. You ignore the clench in your stomach from his eyes meeting yours. 

"You knew that guy?" Yuji curiously asks, watching too. 

"That was Geto, an old childhood friend of mine," Shoko explains, happy to speak for you. "He moved away from here three years ago to be a professional surfer. He came back just yesterday." 

You gape at Shoko in shock. She knew and didn't tell you?! "Y/N hated him back in high school," she continues, not even looking at you.

"I didn't hate him," you protest, glaring at her. "I just never liked his cockiness. I doubt anything's changed." 

"Excuse me, lifeguard," someone says behind you. "Did you happen to see a tall, dark-haired guy with an ugly face 'round here?" 

You knew that suave, sexy voice anywhere and turn to see none other than Gojo Satoru, Gojo's surfing buddy, with his white-hair, striking blue eyes, and abs worth dying for. You've always liked Gojo, his goofiness and charm. 

"You don't recognize me, 'Tarou?" you question, putting your hands on your hips. His blue eyes widen at the sight of you. "Y/N?" he gapes. "Fuck, girl, look at you! What, you not gonna give me a hug?" 

He swoops you up in a big embrace that makes you giggle, your feet lifting off of the sand. "So how's school? What are you doin' back here in this small town?" he chuckles. "I thought you left for the big city last time I heard." 

"School is school," you reply with a shrug. "Came back here for a break until the fall. Why are you here?" 

"Championships are over for Geto, so he came here to teach some kids how to surf for some kinda program." He gives you a crooked smile as puts his sunglasses on his eyes. "I'm just here for the fun." 

"Well, you'll find your friend at first aid," Shoko replies, jutting a thumb back at the station where Yuji retreated for the bathroom. "He almost died, so Y/N had to fish him out." 

Gojo rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "He's such a show-off. Well, lemme go find him and beat his ass. You two stick around and we can link up later." He gives you both a wink before he runs off in the sand to find his friend. 

That afternoon, you and Shoko get off from work. You change out of your sweat and water-soaked uniform and into some cut-offs and a bikini top before meeting Shoko out on the beach. She is smoking in her own cut-offs when you arrive, watching the families pack up their kids for the afternoon. 

"Why didn't you tell me Geto was back in town?" you immediately ask her. She glances at you behind her designer shades, barely looking taken aback by your question. "Was I supposed to?" she shoots back. 

You scowl at her, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, you never came off like you liked him before," she says, shrugging, "so I figured it wasn't a big deal. He didn't know you were back either." 

Shoko has been friends with you since HS, but was also friends with Geto and Gojo, tutoring them before the duo graduated. The fact that she is so friendly with the guy you despise still rubs you the wrong way...even when you know it's stupid. 

You sigh, rubbing your hands over your shoulders. Goose pimples appear despite it still being warm. "I just don't want things to be awkward," you whisper. 

Shoko cocks her head at you, confused. "Why would they be? You didn't fuck the guy, did you?" Her eyes widen, shock on her face. "Wait, did you?" she pushes, grabbing your arm. "I thought you only kissed!" 

"Ugh, never mind," you huff, waving her away. "And no, I didn't. He and Gojo are sluts; they'll fuck anything with a skirt. At least Gojo is nicer than Geto is." 

"What's this about Gojo bein' nicer than me?" a familiar voice asks. 

Shit. You turn, finding Geto standing behind you with a towel wrapped around his broad shoulders and not looking so unconscious now. "I'm guessin' I wasn't supposed to hear that," he chuckles, smirking at you. "Glad to see you haven't changed much, Y/N." 

You stare at him, speechless. Seeing him again is like a tsunami hitting you, especially when looks so damn GOOD. 

Gojo comes skipping after Geto, tossing an arm around his friend's neck. "Well, we run into each other again." He grins at you. "You pretty ladies want some drinks? We're headin' to the bar and we're buyin'...well, I am. Told Sugu I'd treat since he almost died." 

"I didn't almost die," Geto sighs, rolling his eyes and taking Gojo's arm off of him. Ever the self-assured prick. 

"Yeah, 'cause of her," Gojo argues, pointing at you. "Good thing this lifeguard was on duty and knew CPR." Geto's violet eyes widen, his shock evident. "You did CPR on me?" he asks you. 

You flush despite the fact that you were forced to since he nearly drowned. "It's part of my job," you deadpan. "You weren't breathing, so I had to." 

"It's not like he hasn't tasted you before," Shoko sniggers, side-stepping your pinching fingers. "Sounds tempting, but we need to shower first. I smell like seawater. I like my drinks strong too." 

Gojo sniggers, waltzing over to your friend. "Yeah, we know. Too bad your legs ain't as strong as your tonsils." He then snatches her shades off and books it across the sand while she chases him. "Hey, you prick!" she shouts. "Bring those back! They're Gucci!"

That leaves just you and Geto to walk alone side by side to follow the running pair. It is so awkward and tense that you'd have to cut through with a chainsaw. Words left unsaid for three years hang between you, suspended by a thin thread. 

"Hey," he finally greets. 

"Hey," you say back, lacking all kinds of enthusiasm. You stare at your white toes to avoid looking at him and his perfect body. He clears his throat, aware of the awkwardness. "Thanks...y'know...for helping me out earlier." You shrug it off. "Just doing my job." 

"If this is awkward, I can leave you be," he says, stealing a glance at you. You pretend not to notice it. "Don't worry about it. It's awkward being back here anyway." 

A slight chuckle leaves his lips. You ignore the butterflies it gives you. "I'm sure it is. You're a big city girl after all. Ivy League, right?" You bite back a chuckle. "Not Ivy League; just a marine biologist in the making." 

"I take it school is goin' well for you then?" he continues. You don't understand why he's making so much conversation. "What are you doin' back here anyways? Last time I checked, this town was too small for your dreams." 

You feel guilty for saying that now since you're happy to be home, but being a marine biologist (and before, a competitive surfer) wasn't going to happen in this little town. "Needed a change and I felt homesick, so I came back. I start my sophomore year in the fall with a new job at the aquarium." 

Geto hums in acknowledgement. "I saw that on your IG. Congrats." You pause, letting him walk a little ways ahead before he realizes that you've stopped. "You...keep up with my IG?" you ask, squinting suspiciously. "Why?" 

The surfer shrugs his broad shoulders, oblivious to the context. "Shoko is a mutual friend and I just happened to see you pop up. I never followed you or nothin', but I keep up with what you do." He looks deadass and genuine which makes it worse. Why is he checking up on you? You were never close friends and you never dated. 

You push away the confusing thoughts and keep walking with him in tow. "So what are you doin' back here?" you ask. "I would've thought Cali was the place to be." 

He catches the sarcasm in your tone and sniggers, moving to pull his hair into a long ponytail. The act is annoyingly hot. "It is," he chortles. "The beaches are way bigger there. The championships are over till next year, so I came back for the summer to teach kids how to surf. It's part of this program I put together to give back to the community." 

"That's good for publicity, I'd guess," you dryly joke. The words are out before you can stop them. But luckily, Geto snorts, getting your humor. "Oh, like you wouldn't believe. Women love men with kids." 

You roll your eyes at his cocky remark, but then again, you asked for it. Silence descends upon you again but less tense than last time. It is as if you have opened up a bottle that needed to be a long time ago. 

"Listen," Geto suddenly says. He sounds almost...nervous? "If you're not too tired, I'm havin' a party at my Air BNB tonight. Somethin' to celebrate my win." He pauses to give you a crooked smile. "I won, by the way. The championships. Thanks for your congratulations." 

And then the moment is over. You huff to yourself, already sick of him. "I don't watch sports," you mutter. "But congrats." He puts a hand on his heart, pretending to be touched.

"You and Shoko should come through if you want," he continues. "We'll have beer, games, music-" 

"Geto, what are you doing?" you question, finally looking at him. Really looking at him and not daring to look away. "Why are you doing this? We haven't spoken in years." 

'Not since the kiss.' 

He stops walking and so do you, both of you staring at each other in the setting sun. You can see it in his eyes like golden sparkles glistening within pools of violet. "What's wrong with reconnecting?" he asks with a smile. "Besides, this will give us a chance to catch up. Have some fun before the fall, y'know?" 

You don't know what is definition of 'fun' is, but you don't want to find out. He shrugs once more, backing off to give you space. "Just think about it. You've got sand on your butt, by the way." 

He leaves you to stand alone and look at the sand coating your asscheeks popping out from under your cut-offs. You angrily wipe the grains away. "Asshole," you huff to yourself. He hasn't changed at all either. 

You sit and stare at Geto's rented beach house aka his Air BNB, and it feels like you're about to enter the gates of Hell.

"Shoko, I-I don't know about this," you nervously say as you stare out at the gorgeous beach house from Shoko's car. "There's a lot of people we don't know in there." 

You wondered why Geto decided to stay here when he could've stayed at his childhood home, but if he was planning to party, you guess this was smarter. The house is beautiful, sitting right on top of a sandy hill with a driveway, a pool, and a breathtaking view of the beach. Perfect for a morning surf and a nighttime skinny dip. 

Shoko turns to you in her driver's seat, applying eyeliner to her eyes. "Who cares? We're here for the drinks and to have some fun. Plus, you look GOOD." 

You're wearing your favorite frilly white sundress for the occasion paired with gold sandals and your waterproof mist on your face to freeze your makeup. Your hair is braided back to accentuate your face, much to your mom's liking. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she told you when Shoko pulled up to the door. "And tell Geto I said hi." 

You only grunted as you grabbed your bag and left to meet your friend. The ride over here was like going up a rollercoaster, fear and apprehension twirling in your gut as you threw back a shot of vodka and puffed on the vape you forced Shoko to give you even though you don't smoke. 

"This about Geto?" Shoko asks now, giving you a knowing look. "Don't lie to me. I can tell when you do." 

You look away to stare at the party, biting your lip at the sight of partiers in the pool. "Did he say something to you?" she demands and slams on the wheel. "I knew he'd fuck up again! When I catch him-" 

"No, no, it's me," you reassure her. "It's just weird, y'know? We haven't seen each other since he left for LA and now we're still at odds.” You want to ask Shoko what she meant by Geto "fucking up again". What did he do to fuck up the first time? 

"Then this is the perfect chance to patch things up. You only live once, right?" Shoko gives you a reassuring wink before she coaxes you out of the car and into the balmy, sea salt-scented night. There is a clear, inky sky full of stars; a perfect night for an adventure. 

The pool is full of inflatable animals, beach balls, and drunk people while the rest of the house is full loud music, red solo cups, flashing disco balls hanging from the ceiling, and even more drunk people. Including Gojo. 

"Weeell, look at what we have here!" he announces. He saunters over in his backwards cap, his face flushed pink and eyes aglow as they rake over your body. Daaamn, Y/N! You look like you tryna do somethin' tonight...or someone?" He quirks a curious brow at you. 

"Don't get your hopes up, Satoru," you laugh. "I'm not doin' anything with anyone. Just here to have fun." He nods in approval, taking your hand. “Then let's get you girls some shots and get you on the floor." 

He leads you and Shoko over to a back table covered in bottles of booze, cups, and a bowl of spiked fruit punch. You take a cup of the punch and sip on it, the vodka warming your tummy with every sip you take. Soon, you are flush from the alcohol and feeling looser, laughing with people and swaying your hips in your dress to the music. 

You're not thinking about Geto or saving his life or why he invited you here...until you are forced to. When your cup is empty and you turn to get more punch, you practically fall right into the surfer's muscular back. "Sorry!" you exclaim, horrified and feeling like a stupid drunk. 

When Geto turns around and you realize that it's him, dread creeps in and the false confidence that the alcohol provided fades. He looks absolutely delicious in his shorts and Hawaiian-print shirt peeled open to reveal his abs, tattoos, and the silver chain dangling like a treat from his neck. 

His violet eyes widen an inch, shocked at seeing you here. "You came," he states, giving you a smile. He actually looks happy to see you. "I didn't think you'd show up. You look good." His eyes rake over your dress, lingering a bit too long on your legs. 

“A party's a party," you deadpan, fixing your face as if you ate something sour. "It was Shoko's idea to come." He doesn't look the least bit disappointed that it wasn't your decision. "Well, m'glad you did," he replies, sounding genuine. "Hopefully, you'll stick around this time." 

A sudden flashback appears in your mind: Geto, age eighteen, looking down at you with those damn violet eyes as he stands on his childhood home's back porch. "I’ll be right back. Stick around for me." He turns to go inside, leaving you to touch your lips where his once were, claiming he wanted to teach you in case you did it in college and didn't know how. 

You remember that after waiting fifteen minutes for him, you had gotten up and left the party, but texted him that you did. He never answered. The next day, you got the news that he left for California in the dead of night. He hadn't even said goodbye prior to you kissing. 

"What does that mean?" you ask him now, squinting at his muscular back as he turns to pour himself more beer. Does he mean when you left his party? Does he mean when you ghosted him the same way he did you? 

'What does he mean?!' your drunken mind screams, frustrated.

Before you can turn him around and force him to answer, Gojo comes to break it up. "Heeey, there's the winner!" he shouts, tossing himself at Geto. "We got beer pong started! You two stop bein' so antisocial and join in!" 

But before he can wrap an arm around you and force you over to the beer pong table, you give him a wavering smile and side-step him. "I-I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you stammer before running off to get out of there as quickly as humanly possible. 

You squeeze through the throng of partiers, getting your toes stepped on and accidentally bumping people before making it to the staircase. Quickly, you wedge yourself upstairs and walk past closed doors until you find out that is cracked. 

In your drunken and panicked state, you push it open to see nothing but darkness. "Dammit," you huff, pressing your hand against the wall to find a light switch. Luckily, you find it...the bad news is that you're in a bedroom. 

Geto's bedroom. You can tell from the surfboard sitting in the corner of the room and the framed photos of his life in Cali on his dresser and armoire. It is a beautiful room with a king-sized bed coated in a combat bedspread, a flat-screen, and a balcony overlooking the beach. 

"Shit!" you hiss, stumbling backwards. "This isn't the bathroom!" You have to leave now before you're caught! But as you turn to rush out, you clumsily knock a photo off of Geto's dresser. "Shit!" you hiss again, panic seeping in your veins. You're so sure that you'll be caught. 

Quickly, you kneel down to pick up the framed photo of a young Geto and his parents at a surfing competition, but something stops you short. There, on the floor, is a blue greeting card covered in fish that change colors in the light. With shaky hands, you open the card and find your handwriting: "Good luck in Cali - Y/N" 

'He kept it,' you think to yourself, in shock. Your mom told you to buy it for Geto despite you not wanting to. You had handed it to him in a hurry, flushing with embarrassment, but he just smiled at the card before taking you outside to sit with him on the back porch. 

Before he asked you about college. Before he mentioned dating. Before he lightly teased you about kissing before he realized that you've never kissed anyone. Before he showed you how, his lips soft and his tongue piercing gliding against your tongue. 

Before he went back inside and left you sitting there, starstruck and then forced to confront your actions. Before he left for LA and never returned until now, bringing the past back with him. 

"Hey." You squeak, dropping the card and finding Geto standing there in the doorway. Quickly, you pick up the items you dropped and stand. "I was just looking for the bathroom," you lamely explain. "I got lost." 

He huffs out a laugh, his squinted eyes full of humor. "Don't sweat it. There's one in here you can use; just don't puke in my toilet." Quickly, you hand him the items and rush to the bathroom door near his bed, feeling calm only when you are finally alone. 

You manage to pee and check yourself in the mirror, finding only slightly smudged mascara and a glow to your face from the spiked punch and your setting mist's hold breaking up, before exiting after washing your hands. 

Geto turns from his dresser, his eyes concerned. "You good?" he asks. You primly nod, awkwardly fidgeting with the ruffles on your dress. "You kept the card I gave you," you murmur. 

He looks confused, obviously tipsy too, before he looks at the fish-coated card. "'Course I did," he chuckles. "It's a cute card. You always loved your fish." He stares down at it rather adoringly, making you feel weird butterflies. "Y'know, it's funny, but I always knew you'd leave here too. You were always so smart...destined for bigger and better shit." 

You hug yourself, squeezing away the flutters. "Yeah, well, I only started college. I could flunk at any time." 

Geto shakes his head, looking serious now. It renders you breathless. "You won't. You never will, Y/N. That was never you." He pauses, shaking his head as he looks back at the card. "You were always so dedicated. So determined. So fuckin' hard-headed." 

So much for the nice shit. "Thanks for the compliment," you murmur. "I've been told that by guys before." He chuckles to himself, the sound airy and sexy. "So you dated around at school?" he wonders aloud. 

You scowl at him, weirded out and confused by his sudden interest in your dating life. "Of course, I did. I'm a nineteen-year old girl, Geto." You cock your head to the side, sizing him up. "Why're you askin' me that anyway?" Geto keeps giving you that strange look, one you can't decipher. 

CRASH! 

You both flinch at the sound of something breaking outside the door. "Shhhh!" someone shushes while giggling. Geto unclenches his fists at his sides, sighing defeatedly, before giving you a small smile. "Wanna go somewhere more private?" he asks. 

You make out the hope in his tone, his eyes alight with something. Not lust, but it's still there, looming before you. You keep silent, unsure. Sensing your hesitation, he bluntly says, "I'm not tryin' to do anything, Y/N. I wouldn't do that. I just meant let's talk. We can go on the beach and take a walk if you down." 

Still, you're silent, weighing your options. Standing near the cracked balcony doors, you feel the summer breeze cool from the sea, relaxing and serene. Geto's expression grows softer, his eyes and lips drawing you in. "It's your choice, sweetie." 

Between the sea breeze and the music pounding against your skull, you are more inclined to agree...and not at all because of the random ass pet name he throws at you. "Fine then," you reply. "Let's talk." 

You never knew how quiet the beach could be until you and Geto start walking side by side in complete silence on its shores. 

It's a beautiful night; a night fit for a painting with its starry sky and soft waves crashing against the shore and mossy rocks. A fat, white moon hangs in the sky, suspended like a spotlight. The beach stretches on and on, your footprints from your bare feet in the sand leading all the way back to the AirBNB. 

You and Geto have been walking for at least five minutes, but with the silence and the tension in the air, it feels like five days. As the ocean breeze blows, you shiver slightly, holding your sandals against your chest. 

Geto notices. Of course, he would. "Cold?" he asks. You shake your head, pressing your lips tight together. They are slick with a fresh coating of Fenty Beauty lip bomb gloss. "I'm fine," you mutter. 

Suddenly, he unrolls the blanket he's been holding under his arm, having carried it in case you wanted to sit. You shake your head, emitting a laugh from him. "Don't fight it, Y/N," he chuckles. "You've always been so stubborn." 

You flush as he places his blanket over your shoulders; it smells of sea salt and citrus. You continue to walk with him, the tension brewing now. "You always treated me like a kid," you say way harsher than you intended. "Even when we were younger." 

Geto hums to himself, acknowledging your statement. "Is that why you always hated me?" he suddenly asks. You glance at him, your stomach jumping at his words. "What?" you dumbly question. 

His smile is wry; weak. "It's not a secret, Y/N. You never liked me, even as kids. I never knew why 'cause I always liked you." 

You scoff, calling bullshit. "Is that why you always picked on me? Why you always acted like you were better than me? 'Cause you liked me so much?" You tick to fingers up and down, air-quoting "liked". 

Geto is silent for a while, leading you to look at him only to find him gone. You turn to find him some ways behind you, having paused in the sand to stare at you in the moonlight that illuminates his handsome face. "Is that what you think?" he questions, squinting those damn eyes at you. 

Why does he sound so surprised? You find yourself becoming irritated by his mock obliviousness (you're also kinda drunk). "You were always so cocky," you shoot. "Always knew more than me. Always did better than me at everything. I could never compete." 

You know you're saying too much. You know that you're uncapping a bottle that should stay closed...but you can't anymore. The vodka and the sea and Geto's cologne are all pushing you to be vulnerable tonight. 

The surfer's eyes soften more, gazing down at you as if you are a wounded kitten. "Is that why you quit surfing?" he softly wonders. Your anger subsides, replaced with fear. He knows. And he's heard which is worse. From Shoko? Maybe by your parents? 

You stare down at your feet, biting your lip. "It wasn't just that," you admit. "That night after your party...when we..." You grow hot in the face. "Say it," Geto softly urges. "What did we do, Y/N?" He has gotten closer and you are hyperaware of it. "We...kissed," you whimper bashfully. "And you left and never called me again." 

"Well, you never called me either," he rebuttals, a smile in his voice. "I figured you moved onto bigger and better men. Plus, we never dated to begin with. Like I said, you hated me." 

"I didn't hate you," you rebuttal, not liking how he's painting you or how he's making you feel: guilty. Ashamed. "You were just always rubbin' shit in my face." 

Now it's Geto's turn to feel guilty and ashamed. "I never meant to make you feel like that, Y/N. I'm sorry...but you never should've quit surfing. Not because of me and my mistakes." 

Damn. That hurt. It hurt more than you'd like to admit. "So giving me my first kiss was a mistake?" you blurt. 

The surfer sighs, exhausted. "You misunderstood me. That was never a mistake, but I couldn't let you get involve in me. In this." He ticks a finger between himself and you. "Everything. You were on your road and I didn't wanna ruin that for you." 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip again, tears threatening to push past your eyes. Why is he saying all of this now? "But I always thought about you," he professes. "I never stopped thinking about that night, sweetie. How you looked...how you tasted..." 

His words set you on fire, making you feel like you just stepped foot in lava. "W-We shouldn't talk like this," you stammer. "You shouldn't be saying this. Not to me." 

You turn to walk off, mostly to cool down and clear your swimming head, but Geto gently takes your hand. It's so much bigger than yours. "How come?" he murmurs, his face intimately soft. You stare at your hands locked together, wondering what his fingers would feel like on your body. "Like you said; I'm on my road and so are you. We'll both be leaving in the fall anyways." 

Geto raises a brow. "So?" he asks. You have a logical rebuttal in your head; it's there! 

"S-So...so..." And yet, you are bumbling and fumbling over your words now, your mind going blank. And then you feel the drunken tears pushing up, your embarrassment and these stupid feelings making you feel so small.

"It's okay, Y/N," Geto comforts. "Come here." He pulls you into him and you let him, his big arms embracing you. You let yourself melt into his touch, against his rock-solid body. You inhale his scent, falling into a field of citrus fruit and saltwater. 

In his arms, you feel safe. Safe enough to admit the thought that's been pushing at your skull for three years now. "You showed me how to kiss before," you whisper against his chest. "You wanted to teach me how to be good for guys in college." 

"Mmm-hmm," he hums. "I did. I'm sorry that I-" 

"Show me again," you interrupt. "Teach me." Geto's body tenses and he pulls away to glare at you, confused and alarmed. But you keep your gaze soft, hoping he'll see that you're serious. 

Quickly, the confusion melts and his eyes grow hooded, making heat pool between your thighs. "Have you kissed anyone since you left?" he asks, his voice husky and deep. You bite your lip, nipples hardening beneath your dress...though they've been hard since he hugged you. "Yes," you reply. 

"Did they kiss like me?" he questions. You stay silent, unable to speak and expose yourself even more than you already have. Geto's hand presses against your cheek, gentle and intoxicating. "Tell me, sweetie." 

"No," you manage to squeak out. He inhales slowly as if he can barely contain your response and then, slowly, carefully, he leans down to swoop you up in a soft, passionate, earth-shatteringly magical kiss that nearly makes your foot pop like a girl in a romcom would. 

It is just as amazing as the first one you shared was, only this time, you're older and so is he. So he can deepen the kiss if he wants to. You can allow him to slide his tongue against yours, the cool metal of his piercing caressing your tongue. You can moan into his mouth as your hands wrap around him, pulling him closer. He's still the best kisser you've ever had. 

Suddenly, Geto pulls away with a soft groan and tilts your chin up slightly to kiss your neck. Each kiss leaves a trail of fire across your skin as you grasp his broad shoulders. "Suguru," you softly moan. "People might see us." 

Your body screams with need as he pulls you close to him, pressing you flush against him. "I don't care," he rasps out. "Let them. I want this." You can feel it: it's pressing into your thighs now, hard and throbbing thanks to his trunks. 

"I want this too," you mewl. "I want you." He pulls away to look at you, allowing you to stand on your toes and kiss him again, hungry and needy. 

"Fuck," he whispers against your lips, astonished. He pulls away from your kiss, taking his bottom lip with you as he gently suckles on it. It excites you, making your pussy throb beneath your dress. "There's a couple things I'll have to teach you then," he softly chuckles. 

You wonder what he means by that until he takes your hand, interlacing your fingers. "Come here, with me." 

You let him lead you away down the beach, yards away from the house, behind a small, secluded surfboard hut. Colorful surfboards hide you from view and Geto lowers his beach bag down to pull you close. It is now just you two standing alone, unbothered and together. 

"So what now?" you wonder aloud, giddy with excitement and thrill. A wicked smirk appears on the surfer's lips. "I'll show you. First, you need to get out of this sexy lil' dress." His big hands slide your spaghetti straps down, revealing your tan lines. 

You find yourself giggling yet feeling nervous as you help him slide your dress off, revealing the string bikini underneath. Geto salaciously bites lip as he helps you pull each string off, letting each article of clothing fall to the sand. That leaves you naked, exposed to him and his cock pulsing beneath his shorts. "You're perfect," he sighs. "Better than I ever dreamed." 

That makes you smile and your pussy gush between your thighs. He joins you, only having to kick off his slides and peel off his shorts. Your mouth grows dry at the sight of him: his tanned, lickable abs lead down to a happy trail and pale, muscular thighs untouched by the sun where his beautiful, throbbing cock swings. 

He, too, is as perfect as you dreamed he'd be. He is what you'd imagine while with other boys in college, while you'd rub your pussy in your dorm room, biting your pillow to not wake your roommate. Your childhood nemesis of all people! 

"C'mere," he huskily orders. You do so, wanting so badly to be near him. You begin to kiss and touch each other the way you've dreamed, indulging in all you have to offer. His body is a wonderland, thrilling you in ways a wave can't. 

Geto pulls away from kissing your lips again to focus on your breasts, massaging them with his big hands. He pays close attention to your fluttering eyelids and soft moans, moving on to gently sucking on the hard peaks of your nipples. 

You gasp and cup his head against your tits, tingling with pleasure. Your nipples are usually very sensitive, meaning that every tweak of Geto's fingers and swipe of his slick tongue sends your pussy into a frenzy. "W-Wait," you stammer, rubbing your thighs together. "I'm really–" 

"Wet?" he finishes, chuckling. He pauses, staring up at you with glinting eyes. "That's the idea, sugar. That's how I want you." He presses a chaste, wet kiss against your lips as his hand ducks between your thighs to asses the lips down below. 

"Shit!" he hisses, his cock visibly twitching as his fingers become soaked with you. "Did you get this wet when we kissed that night?" 

You jerkingly nod, embarrassed. Despite the way the night ended, you did feel a wet spot as he slowly made out with you that night. 

He looks satisfied with that, his violet eyes glistening like two sugilite gems. "Good girl," he coos. "Such a pretty girl." He gently runs his fingers along your slit, making you whine, before taking them away. 

"Such a pretty pussy," he murmurs, bringing his fingers coated in your juices to his lips. You watch, transfixed and so, so horny for him. Hornier than you've ever been for any guy. "I really wanna taste you," he hoarsely says. "I want you to hook your leg over my shoulder and make up for lost time." 

A heat builds in the pit of your stomach that drops down to your ass. He notices your sudden change in attitude and silently asks with his eyes. "I've...never had that before," you softly admit. 

In all your time in college, you've never had anyone go down on you before. You've given blowjobs and split your legs open for dick plenty of times. But cunnilingus? Never happened. 

Geto looks perplexed, tilting his head to the side. "No one's ever eaten you out before?" he asks, shocked. You think he'll laugh at you, but he just looks plain whipped. "That's...such an honor, sweetie. I'll make it real good for you. You just relax for me, okay?" 

He then kneels before you and swings a leg over his shoulder, forcing you to grab onto him for balance. He smirks, pressing a kiss to your ankle where your gold anklet glistens. "And don't worry; I'm a good diver. I can hold my breath." 

"Okay," you reply, giggling slightly. Your heart races wildly in your chest, anticipating what comes next. From your first kiss to your first lick. 

And God, can this man lick! When Geto says he's a good diver, he isn't kidding. He goes head first, starting off with gentle, slow kiss and tongue flicks against your wet slit, prying your pussy lips apart to gently suck at your clit. 

You moan at the contact, the feeling so foreign yet pleasurable. When he begins to run his lips over your clit, you giggle out, "Sugu, that tickles." He smiles against your pussy before slurping at your juices, running his tongue around your entrance. 

"Oh, fuck," you moan, tilting your head back. "Sugu, that's so good." You press your head back against one of the surfboards as you grip your surfer's shoulders, your white nails contrasting against his tan skin and tattoos. 

He hums appreciatively against your clit, pulling away to smile at you. "Told you I'm a good diver," he jokes. "Shit, you tasted so good." He sounds like he means it, even gazing lovingly at your glistening cunny slick with your arousal and his spit. 

He goes right back in, gently sliding his tongue inside of you as his nose glides against your clit. Your mouth falls agape, your eyes wide as saucers. "Oh, my God," you whine. "Sugu, yes!" You throw your head back from the sheer pleasure, shamelessly grinding your pussy into his tongue. 

You've never felt so high before, especially off of someone else. You feel like you're riding a big wave, feeling the high and rush of being on top of the world before a wipeout. Geto's hands grip your ass, keeping you pressed firmly against his mouth, locking you down so there is nowhere to go but up. 

And up, and up, and up as you get closer to your orgasm. "Sugu," you whimper, winding your fingers through his raven locks. "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna...you're gonna make me cum!" 

The surfer hums an eager "mm-hmm" into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body. He licks faster, curling his tongue up to toy with that spot that nearly makes you unravel at the seams like an old sweater. 

And soon, you do. With a loud moan of his name and a couple of "fuck"s slipping from your lips, you cream all over Geto's long, wet tongue, still grinding your pelvis into him, riding his mouth. Your orgasm is intense, making you shiver and shake. Your surfer grips you tight, keeping you grounded as you roll and whine your waist for him, riding out your O. 

Finally, your moans grow weak and your hips slow their movement, the pleasure almost painful now. You feels 100x better than you did moments before; freer and sexier. All because of Geto's magical tongue. 

He pulls away to kiss and slurp at your inner thighs, giving you a playful bite. Slowly, he unwinds your leg from his neck and stands, his lips slightly glistening and his eyes lust-blown...and his cock extra hard. "You're so hard," you softly gasp, staring down at the appendage. 

You can't stop yourself; you gently grasp his dick and begin to stroke him, up and down, up and down. His soft groans encourage you, welcoming your touch with a pulse and a twitch. "Yeah? That's all for you. You should've seen me after we kissed that night." 

You feel your pussy throb at the newfound knowledge that he was just as horny for you as you were for him that night. For years you wondered what his cock looked like...felt like...tasted like...and now, here you are with it hard and heavy in your palm. 

"C-Can...can I taste you too?" you softly ask, peering up at him through your thick lashes. "Maybe we can 69?" 

Geto looks taken aback by your bold suggestion laced in such sweet shyness, but then a crooked smile appears. "So you want my tongue again?" he teases, his cock throbbing against your fingers. "Is that it, mama? You like my mouth that much?" 

He cups your chin in his hand, forcing you to keep looking at him. The possessiveness in his grip makes your overly-sensitive cunt twitch. You find yourself nodding, responsive to anything he says. 

He groans, pushing his hips forward so his cock can slide deeper in your hand, fucking it. "Sure thing, sugar; whatever you want. Let me just lay this blanket down." 

After reluctantly tearing himself away from your hand and laying the soft blanket on the sand, he lays down on his back, his thighs open and his hard cock on full display for you. You find your place on top of him, hovering just above his face while your legs straddle each side of his shoulders. 

"Fuck," he softly groans, staring up at your pussy hovered above him. His big hands grip your ass, gently prying them apart to see your other pretty hole. You whimper, biting your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. "You're absolutely perfect, y'know that?" he murmurs, giving your inner thighs an open-mouthed kiss on each. 

You could say the same thing about his big, beautiful, rock-hard, throbbing cock displayed in front of you. The urge to lick and suck on it is almost as powerful as your uncertainty about sitting on his face. "S-So...how do we..." You trail off, bashful. 

Geto chuckles, his breath fanning against your wet pussy, making you twitch with need. "Just sit on my face, sweetie. Don't worry; I can take it." 

He gives your ass a firm squeeze, making you moan. "Then you swerve your hips around, like you're ridin' a wave," he continues, his voice huskier the more he stares at your sobbing wet pussy above him, waiting for a taste. "Just pretend I'm your personal surfboard," he raspily jokes. "I think I'm a little better than one though." 

And just as he instructs you to do, you slowly close the gap between your dripping pussy and his face, gasping when his lips and tongue make contact with you. "Oh, fuck!" you shout to the stars, moaning in pleasure. Everything feels so much deeper and intense in this position. 

You hope he feels the same when you begin to stroke and suck on his cock slowly yet greedily. You've been wondering what he would feel like in your mouth, stretching out your throat. You wondered what his moans would sound like as you pleased and stroked him with your wet mouth, caressing him with your tongue. 

Well, now you do, and you have front row seats. His toes curl and his hips slowly grind up to meet your mouth every time you pull your head up and down, humming from the taste of pre-cum on your tastebuds and his tongue fucking your pussy. 

You are sure that you're dripping all over Geto's pretty face, but he sloppily eats your hole like he needs more, massaging your ass while he does so. You continue to grind against his face, alternating between rubbing your clit against his top lip and nose. 

"Mmm, baby," you moan, wetly popping off of his cock to verbally tell him of your pleasure. "Sugu, you're mouth is s-so good!" 

Geto grunts into your pussy as he juts his cock up to rub it against your tits, desperate for relief too. You go back to giving it to him, slipping him down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and opening the tight hole of your throat for better access. You want to give him all of you. 

At some point, for what feels like hours of constant sucking, licking, and slurping each other up, you find yourself cumming again. You muffle your moans and slutty sounds of your O with Geto's cock, keeping your lips wrapped around it as he swallows your cum, moaning about how sweet you are. 

You tremble and shudder from the orgasm, digging your nails into Geto's tree-trunk thighs to ground you. You have never had two intense orgasms back to back before, and it leaves your body drained. 

Slowly, you slip off of Geto's face to allow him air to breathe and straddle his chest instead. You look back at him lying behind you, lips glistening with your cum, his hair a mess, and a dazed look in his eyes. He's never looked sexier. "Tired, sweetie?" 

"Not at all," you quip back. "You didn't cum yet." You wrap a hand around his spit-slicked cock and begin to stroke him, earning a moan of enjoyment. "Did you want something more?" you suggest, hoping you don't have to elaborate on that. 

You don't. From the look in Geto's eyes, he knows exactly what you mean. "Yeah, but...I don't think I have a condom," he sheepishly admits, a pink blush coating his cheeks. It's so unlike him yet so endearing. "I'm sorry. I can go back and-" 

"No," you cut in, shaking your head. "I mean, there are other ways, right?" The surfer silently stares at you, making you think that maybe you said the wrong thing...until his lips curl into a salacious smile. 

"You want this dick that badly, huh?" he teases you. Whimpering, you turn your head to face away from him, but he stops you with a sharp smack on your ass. "No, no, don't run. Say it to me. It's just me here, mama." 

It must be the need you feel or the sharp sting of his ass smack that has you so horny and eager, but you turn around and peer down at him through your lashes, heat pooling in your core and making you soak his abs. "I want you, Suguru," you whimper. "Badly." 

A seductive light sparkles in Geto's violet eyes and he nods, his chest rising and falling with anticipation for your cunt. "Do what you want with me then." 

He doesn't have to tell you twice. You brace yourself on his thighs and lift yourself up to hover over his cock, but before you can come down, he stops you, his eyes flaring with a passionate fire. "But when this is over with, I need to you to know that this is not just a one-night thing for me. I want this to be real." 

You stare at him over your shoulder in shock, nearly craning your neck. Desperately, you search for a little glimmer of a lie in his eye. A twitch in his lips. A sign that he is just toying with you and doesn't mean these serious, intimate things...but you find nothing but a hot determination. 

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Sugu—" 

"Just listen, please," he hoarsely begs, pleading with his eyes. "I've been thinkin' about you for over a year, Y/N, wonderin' how you are, where you are, who you're with." He sits up to plant a soft kiss on your back, your shoulder blades, your waist. 

"I'm sorry I didn't take that chance to go down your road with you. I'm sorry I never told you this before, but now...now we're here and I'm not wasting another second not bein' real with you." 

He wraps his arms around you, holding you in his lap, locking you there. "I want you," he rasps. "I don't care if you leave and go back to the city to live your life. I'm always gonna want YOU, Y/N. And if you don't feel the same, say it now so I'm not makin' myself look like a fool." 

Those words, saccharine sweet and filled with so much yearning, make you wetter than you've ever been in your life. He has freed you from the past and your resentment for him. You now know that you can be real too. 

You feel tears push past your eyes, most definitely fucking up the rest of your mascara, as you take his hands and interlace your fingers with his. "I want you too, Suguru," you softly sob. "I need you." You grind your pussy against his cock, emitting a groan from the both of you. 

Geto leans back on the blanket, eyes hooded and so dark that you can see the stars in them. "Then take me." 

With the flames of a thousand horny fires lighting your loins up, you push yourself up, your hands still locked with Geto's, and then come down to grind your naked pussy against his shaft. Your surfer gives a low hiss while you lewdly moan, sparks of pleasure shooting throughout your bodies. 

Your pussy lips are sticky and wet, sliding so easily against Geto's thick, gorgeous cock, your twitching clit singing with pleasure. You're so wet that he could easily slip inside and fill you up to the brim with all of him, stretching your walls out and tattooing himself against you so you can never forget the feeling. 

"Shiiiiit, sweetie," Geto hisses, making you giggle from the sheer force it takes for him to hiss out that one swear. Is your pussy really that good? You turn to stare at him over your shoulder, becoming transfixed at the way his face screws in pleasure, cheeks flushed and lips plump from kissing. 

You release his hands, letting him grasp your hips as they grind and roll against him, his cock sliding between your dripping pussy lips, coating his shaft and balls in your juices. "How's it feel bein' my surfboard?" you joke. 

Your surfer cracks a smile, a laugh leaving his pretty lips. "Fuckin' perfect," he replies. "A wave don't compare to this." 

You concur, your eyes rolling back from the magical feeling of your clit sliding against his dick. Moans of "ah" and "mmm" leave your lips as you grind quicker, speeding up your movements and applying more pressure to your clit, stimulating yourself on your surfer with every intention of cumming. 

You can tell Geto isn't far behind from the sound of his moans growing louder and his grip tightening around your hips. "S-Sugu," you warn. "If we're not quick, someone could come soon." 

"Yeah," he hoarsely agrees, "and it's gonna be me if you keep that up. Fuck, the way you move makes me wanna visit your city as soon as the fuckin' fall hits." 

You know he's referring to the way you're gyrating your hips forward, causing your pussy to slide against the base of his cock, so you continue. 

"I want you to cum," you whine, turning back to look at him. "Please, Sugu, baby. Cum with me." 

The man is practically in agony, his neck tense and his jaw tight as he gets closer and closer to cumming. "Fuck, Y/N!" he gasps, lifting his hips to meet your grinding. "Keep lookin' at me like that. Need to see you cum for me." 

You frantically nod and close your eyes to focus. Focus on your hips moving together. Focus on your clit tingling as you reach your peak. Focus on that tightening knot in your core getting tighter and tighter until...it snaps. 

"Fuck, Sugu!" you whine, definitely loud enough for the rest of the beach to hear. You don't care; not when your third orgasm of the night is so good and euphoric. You spill your cream all over Geto's cock, leaving you both sticky and wet with your cum. 

Geto continues to grind himself against your cunt, repeating lewd moans of "fuck, fuck, fuck" until he forces you to bend forward, presenting your ass to him. He wraps a hand around himself and furiously fucks his fist until he finally spurts his cum all over your ass. 

You shiver in delight as he moans from his release, the sound echoing throughout the salt-scented air, mingling with the soft crashing of the waves. A giddy and delirious giggle escapes you as you feel his warm spurts of spunk hit your ass, marking you with his scent. You always hated it when guys did this to you back in college. 

But with Geto Suguru? You welcome it. 

After some recovering and some small kisses on your backside, Geto helps you lie down with him on the blanket under the starry canvas of the night sky. Together, you curl against each other, his chest your pillow and your arms becoming anchors as they wrap around his waist. 

You close your eyes, letting your head swim and your heart race decrease. You feel better than you've had in weeks. "That was so nice," you sigh against his chest. 

"You definitely were," he chortles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you more." You hum in disagreement, pressing a kiss to one of his pecs, stroking the dark outline of his tattoos. "It was more than enough," you promise. 

And then reality hits you like a big wave right in the face, causing you to giggle to yourself. Geto looks down at you expectantly, raising a brow. "What?" he probes. 

You shake your head though you grin to yourself, still stroking his ink. "This is...just crazy, y'know?" you snort. "Me sleeping with my childhood nemesis who confessed his romantic feelings for me? Shoko won't believe it." 

Geto laughs with you, using one of his big hands to stroke your hair. "Nah, she will; Gojo too. They always knew I had a thing for you." 

Of course, they did. 

"I meant what I said earlier," he suddenly says. You look up at him, confused. His eyes are soft and intimate. "That I'd visit you in your city. That wasn't just sex talk. With my type of money, I'll fly wherever you go." 

You laugh and pinch his nipple at his cocky little quip, earning a pinch on the ass in retaliation. "I'd love that, Sugu," you purr, snuggling into his side. Your stomach flip-flops with hope, wondering if this truly is a done deal. "So this can really work? Us? When we leave here in the fall?" 

Geto hugs you closer to him, his arms secure and strong as they lock around you. "I'll make it work, but only if you want that too." 

You want that more than anything. "Well, you know I love challenges," you giggle into his chest. "I'll gladly try dating a celebrity athlete." You sigh, draping your legs across his, intertwining them in a heap. "At least we have now." 

"And the whole summer," he murmurs into your hair. 

For a while, you stay like that, you the little spoon and he the big spoon, snuggling on the blanket in your afterglow against the soft lull of the waves. But after a while, reality sets in again and the night remains young. 

"So...what now?" Geto wonders aloud. You sit up on the blanket, his hands still stroking your thighs. "Well, we do have this open beach...and these surfboards right here." 

Your eyes click to the colorful surfboards presented before you before you give Geto a knowing glance. He cocks his head at you, smirking at signature smirk that makes your panties drop. "Are you challengin' me, L/N?" he teases. "You must wanna get that ass whooped." 

You scoff, shooting off of the blanket to find your bikini. "Don't play me. I may be rusty, but once I get back on that board, I'm doin' the whoopin' here." 

You stick your tongue out at him as you bend down to pull your bikini bottoms over your soaked pussy. You are just tying the strings around your waist when you feel a hand sharply smack your ass from behind. 

SPANK! 

You squeak, looking up to find Geto already gunning for the water with his asscheeks out, his trunks in one hand, and a surfboard under his arm. "Sugu!" you squeal. "You cheated!" 

He turns to look at you, his grin as bright as the summer sun. He is the epitome of joy as he steps backwards into the frothy water. "Don't hate the player; hate the game, mama," he laughs. "Now get your ass in this water with me!" 

You finish getting dressed and take a surfboard before running after him, laughing giddily, joy spilling out of you. As soon as you hit the water and surf the first wave in what feels like decades, you feel complete. Especially with your new boyfriend. 

THE END.

There were roses on your mother.

The kind that bloom from the inside out, purple going green at the edges.

They moved.

Monday on her forearm, Thursday at the jaw.

You were four and you would press one finger to the center of a petal and watch it go white under your touch and fill back in slow.

You thought everyone's mother grew like that.

You thought it was something bodies did, something ordinary as weather.

She eventually left him, took you and walked out of a house to a one-bedroom with a deadbolt she checked three times before sleeping.

The hum of a microwave at midnight because she got home too late to cook and too tired to eat but you needed to eat, so she stood there watching the plate turn behind the yellow glass, and that was dinner.

She worked for rent and electricity and the coat you needed in October and the inhaler you needed in March and she poured herself into the cracks until there was nothing left of her by evening.

You loved her.

Of course, you loved her.

--

What no one will ever understand about you, is that nothing happened.

You want there to be a door, a moment someone came into the room and broke the part of you that was supposed to want this.

But there is no door.

You came into the world like this — pre-emptied, the pilot light out before anyone thought to check.

As far back as you can reach into yourself, you find the same thing: flatness.

There is no sadness.

At least sadness you could hold in your hands and show to people and say here, look, this is mine, this is what's wrong.

You went to school.

You sat where they told you to sit.

The other kids moved around you in their herds, bright and frantic, grabbing at each other, wanting so much so loudly — a spot on the swings, a best friend, the approval of their peers.

You watched them with genuine curiosity, the way you'd watch an anthill.

Why. 

Why do you try so hard.

Why do you want things.

What does wanting feel like.

Does it hurt.

How do you do it.

You had nothing to give them.

You'd open your mouth and reach down for something to say and your hand would come back empty every time, lowering a bucket into a well and pulling up only the rope.

You grew a second skin around you and inside it, at least, you didn't have to pretend.

--

You are twenty-three years old now.

You are in the back of a car that smells like vinyl cleaner coffee.

There is a woman driving whose name you've already forgotten and a stack of intake paperwork on the seat beside you, and outside the window the world is going about its Tuesday: a man hosing down a sidewalk, a dog tied to a parking meter with its chin on its paws, a neon sign for a nail salon with the N burnt out so it just says ail.

And you are thinking:

I am so tired of almost.

You keep getting found.

You keep being pulled back by some ordinary grace that feels more like cruelty — a roommate's early shift, a dosage you got wrong, a fall that wasn't far enough, your own stupid shaking hands.

You are not brave.

You are not brave and you are not crying out for help and you are not doing this for attention.

You are just bad at the one thing you have ever wanted to do.

I can't even do this right.

The stranger woman is talking, something about the facility, the program, visiting hours.

You watch her mouth move and the sounds enter your ear and fall to the floor of your skull like coins.

You look at your hands in your lap, there's a raw place at your wrist.

It doesn't hurt, nothing hurts anymore, and that's the problem.

You'd kill for pain, you'd get on your knees and beg for the kind of sharp bright feeling that would prove you're still in here.

The building is painfully ordinary.

Beige brick. Sliding doors.

A woman behind a desk who smiles at you soft but careful.

They take your bag.

They take your phone.

They take the string out of your hoodie and the laces out of your shoes and the spiral wire out of your notebook, and you think, distantly, you could have at least left me the notebook, I don't even write in it, I haven't had a thought worth keeping in months.

They give you socks, gray, with little rubber grips on the soles.

Grippy sock jail, that's what your roommate would have called it.

She was not a person who made jokes often.

She was the kind of person who called 911 with a perfectly steady voice.

A nurse walks you down a hallway that smells like cafeteria food and something chemicals.

She talks, she points, she shows you a room with two beds, industrial frames.

A window that opens four inches.

A bathroom with no lock.

"You'll meet with the doctor in the morning," she says.

"Okay," you say, and it is the first word you've spoken in a long time.

At least since the floor of your apartment with the ceiling light buzzing overhead and your roommate saying your name, saying it again, and again, and again.

You sit on the bed and the mattress crinkles.

Nothing here will fix me.

It's a thing that is true and will still be true when you leave this place, if you leave this place.

The pills won't fix you because there is no chemical slightly off-balance that a milligram of something could nudge back into place.

The therapy won't fix you because you don't have a hole to fix.

You have a house with no foundation.

Nothing will fix me.

Only God could do something like that.

Only God, if there were one.

---

Gojo Satoru came into the world white-haired and screaming and strange.

That's the truth of it.

The nurses passed him around.

What a pretty baby.

They pinched his cheek, help him up to the light like a shiny rock they'd found at the bottom of a river and couldn't quite identify.

His mother looked at him then looked away.

There is a photograph somewhere — hospital bed, her arms around him, her face forcing a smile.

He was too pale, too bright, too loud, and she was twenty-four and already tired enough.

He doesn't remember this, of course.

In the version Satoru remembers, the nurses wept.

They wept because they knew, of course.

Even then, birth-slick and barely breathing, the holy light was already coming off him and they could feel it, they could feel that this was not an ordinary child, and they held him not out of duty but out of reverence, and his mother —

Well, his mother loved him obviously.

Of course she did, what kind of question is that.

---

He was raised by a woman named Ayumi who was not his mother.

She had thick hands and a small mouth and she was paid to keep him fed and dressed and out of the way, and she did all three efficiently well.

When he misbehaved — and he misbehaved often, he was loud and fast— she'd pinch the soft skin at the back of his arm, the way you'd snap a dog's leash.

He doesn't remember this either.

Or, he remembers it differently.

To him it was just the way prophets are tested in the wilderness.

You don't become what he is without being broken in first.

She was not cruel, she was the first trial and he passed it.

This is what Satoru does.

The world hands him a bruise and he makes it a medal.

---

He grew tall.

Taller than everyone and then taller still, as though his body couldn't stop reaching for the heavens above him.

The white hair never darkened.

The eyes stayed that color — the blue that makes you look away and then look back.

Teachers liked him.

Girls liked him.

Boys hated him or wanted to be him which is the same thing at that age.

He was smart without trying, funny without meaning to be, and beautiful in the way that all beautiful people are when they know it, which is to say: unbearable.

He let them love him and he let them stare.

Of course they stared, of course they did.

He would have stared too.

And somewhere in the years between fourteen and nineteen, slowly, one molecule at a time, his confidence changed.

He didn't just think he was special anymore.

He knew, the way you know the sun will come up.

A certainty so total it didn't need evidence, didn't need agreement, didn't even need to be spoken aloud because the truth doesn't need to announce itself, the truth simply is, and the truth was:

He was chosen.

---

God had sent him.

Not metaphorically, how people say I feel called or I think I have a purpose.

Those are human words for a human feeling, and Satoru was not — he understood this now, — Satoru was not entirely human.

He was the second son, the new covenant.

Sent down in a body that was too tall, too bright, because the vessel had to be strong enough to hold what was inside it, and what was inside it was a light so old it had been burning before the earth had a name.

And he shall come in the form of man but he shall not be of man, and by his suffering shall the world be preserved.

He heard this.

He wasn't crazy, he wanted to be clear about that, he wasn't hearing voices the way those crazy people did but there was a frequency, and it spoke to him, and it was God, and it told him things.

It told him:

You must not stop.

Above all others.

You must not stop.

Because his too-tall, too-pale, too-beautiful body was load-bearing.

The world was a ceiling and he was the pillar, and if he sat down, if he rested, if he closed his eyes and slept, the ceiling would come down on everyone.

Every person in every city on every continent, every child in every bed, every mother cooking dinner, all of it, crushed, because he was selfish enough to rest.

So he didn't rest.

He hadn't slept more than two hours in how long now? A month? Longer?

Time had started folding over on itself, Tuesday becoming Thursday becoming Tuesday again, and he couldn't always tell if the light outside was morning or evening but that didn't matter because the light outside was his doing, it came from him, and as long as he was standing it would keep coming.

You must bear it.

The hatred, the cruelty.

Every sin committed by every person in every second of every day, and there were so many, so many, the numbers were staggering, he had to absorb them.

That was the price, that was the deal and that was why his back—

There were marks on his back.

He had put them there himself, with a belt, methodical, counting.

One hundred for one hundred sins.

And then again.

And again.

Because the sins didn't stop, they never stopped, and his flesh was just flesh, it would heal, it had to because his body was a tool.

Suguru saw his back on an ordinary Wednesday.

---

Suguru is not an easy person to frighten.

He is the kind of person who doesn’t speak a lot but means every word and he’s someone who has thought about things long enough to stop being surprised by them.

He has known Satoru since they were fifteen.

He has watched his confidence curdle year by year, the arrogance shift from charming into something that Satoru was living inside of now like a cathedral he'd built around himself, and he had worried, and he had waited, and he had told himself it's just Satoru, it's just how he is, he's always been like this.

Till he saw his back.

Satoru had been changing.

Just pulling a shirt over his head in his own apartment, easy, careless, the way he did everything.

And Suguru was sitting on the couch and he looked up.

He looked at the mess of welts and broken scabbing, you could see that each mark had been placed with terrible care, and he kept his face very still and he thought:

I have waited too long.

Then Satoru pulled the shirt on and turned around and gave him that enormous white stupid grin that had been getting people to forgive him for things his entire life and said,

"You wanna get food?"

Suguru said, "Yeah."

They got food.

They didn't talk about his back.

Suguru drove home and sat in his car in the parking garage for forty minutes with the engine off.

The next day he made a phone call.

---

Here is how you get a god to walk into a hospital:

You don't call it a hospital, first of all.

Suguru thought about this for a long time.

Longer than he'd thought about most things in his life, and he was a person who thought about everything.

He sat at his kitchen table at 2 AM with a cup of tea and he ran through every possible version of the sentence you need help and he knew, with the same certainty that Satoru knew he was chosen, that none of them would work.

You can't tell a messiah he's sick.

Sickness is for other people.

If Suguru said I think something's wrong, Satoru would smile at him with those horrible blue eyes and say I know, that's why I'm here.

So he didn't say something was wrong.

"There's a place downtown. It’s a building full of people. Their minds... they are under attack, Satoru. Some kind of… I don't know. The doctors can't cure them and they need someone strong enough to go inside and protect them, someone like you."

He said this.

He said this ridiculous phrase looking Satoru right in the face.

Suguru could see him processing it, his eyes went somewhere.

His jaw set.

His fingers, long and pale and shaking slightly from the caffeine.

"How many," Satoru said.

"A lot."

"And the doctors can't…?"

"No."

The refrigerator hummed and a car alarm went off three streets away and stopped.

"Okay," Satoru said. "Okay, yeah. I'll go."

Suguru nodded and pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth.

He did not cry, but a stone sat in his throat for three days afterward.

He drove Satoru to the hospital on a Friday morning.

Satoru talked the entire way.

About the patients and the healing he was going to do, the light he was going to bring into the building.

About how God had been preparing him for this : all the sleepless nights, the suffering, the marks on his back, it was all training Suguru, it was all leading to this, and he should have seen it sooner, and wasn't Suguru smart for figuring it out first.

Suguru kept his eyes on the road and said "yeah" and drove his best friend to a psych ward.

He told himself it was love and it was, it was love, but it was also betrayal, and he knew Satoru would see it that way eventually.

And that's how he ends up here.

In the same fluorescent-lit, floor-wax-and-cafeteria-smelling building where you have been sitting on a plastic-lined mattress for sixteen hours, not doing anything at all except existing in the most minimal sense of the word.

You hear him before you see him.

A laugh that takes up a whole room and then the hallway.

The kind that makes the nurse at the desk look up and the guy watching the Simpsons in the common room turn his head and the girl in the corner with the bitten-down nails stop picking at them for one second.

You're sitting there because the nurse said it would be good for you.

The Simpsons is playing.

The volume is too low to hear the dialogue but you can see the shapes of it, the bright flat cartoon colors, and you are watching it without watching it, the way you do everything now.

Then the door opens.

He takes possession of the air in the room and all the light in it and every pair of eyes that happens to be facing his direction.

He is absurdly tall.

White hair, the white of new paper, of fresh snow, pushed back off his face.

And the eyes.

Not blue like the sky or the ocean.

This is the blue at the center of a flame where the heat is so intense.

He is grinning.

He is looking around the room assessing, pleased, making plans.

The nurse next to him is saying something and he is nodding the way you nod when someone is telling you things that are beneath you.

And then he looks at you.

Oh God, this is hell. Hell has obnoxious blue eyes.

He grins wider, and you think he’s heard your thoughts.

"Hey," he announces to the room.

To the Simpsons and the flickering overhead light and the girl with bitten nails and the guy who talks to himself and you, you especially, you specifically.

"I'm here now," he says. "So… you’re welcome."

You close your eyes.

I asked for God.

And they sent me this?

He’d beg to have you again, but he knows he can’t – he knows he needs to stay distant, to be your friend. One night where he let down his guard and whimpered an “I love you” was enough – you both were tipsy, and you were cummin’ too hard to hear it, the little confession.

The next day you were back to normal, but he’d felt you quiver around him, he’d watched you drool as he drilled his cock mean into your hole – tip bruising that cute cervix. Pulling out was a tragedy – but he was happy that fucking condom snapped, sadistic as it was for sweet, nerdy Satoru Gojo.

He wished he could have filled you with all those creampies.

“I made everything weird, yeah? That night-”

“No! No, no, it’s not that. I just…” You trail off, and he feels his heart hammering, pulse racing with nerves. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is anything wrong!?”

“No, yes – well…” You sigh again. “I’m coming over if that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

“Maybe um, smoke some weed first? Have a drink?”

Satoru pauses. “How bad is the news?”

“Just get… relaxed first.”

*****

“You’re… pregnant?” He manages to ask, eyes locked onto you as you pace back and forth in his living room. “You’re sure?”

“I need an official test, but yes,” you keep pacing now, shaking your head, sighing. “I was ovulating, I should have known better. Ugh! And now… Toru, you don’t have to help if I keep it, okay? I don’t want you thinking I like did this to get something, like because you’re rich or-”

“Excuse me?” He stands now, walking to you, gripping your shoulders gently, turning you to face him. “When would I ever think that about you?”

“But so many women would fucking do that to you,” you whisper, eyes full of tears. “And I know you’re scared of that. I know it’s why you’re cautious with dating anyone.”

That’s part of it.

The other part is he compares them all to you.

“I know it’s an accident, fuck I’m just as responsible, I was more than happy to fuck you without one,” you flush then, and he clears his throat. “Sorry, I know we aren’t supposed to bring it up.”

“Hard not to, now,” you sigh, letting him cup your face. “I’m so sorry. Really, I know you have so much on your plate, and-”

“Stop apologizing.”

“You’re taking this way better than I thought,” you admit softly, letting him hug you, sinking against his warmth. “I thought you’d panic, or worse… hate me.”

“I’d never hate you,” he whispers, his mind rushing a million miles a minute – of course it’s scary, and of course he has no clue about kids at all. He doesn’t even know what you’ll wanna do, but fuck if he won’t support his best friend – the girl he’s been pining for secretly for years.

He sure couldn’t bring any of that up now, not when you need support, when you need him to just be there.

“We need to make a doctor’s appointment, yeah?”

“I already did,” you sniffle, and he swipes your tears. “Do you wanna come with me?”

“Of course I do,” his brows draw together. “You’ve known me since we were babies almost, you really think I’d let you do this alone?”

“I knew you wouldn’t, but to resent me,” you trail off now, emotions burning in your throat. “I really always wanted one. Not now, but, I did.”

“Yeah, me too,” you blink a bit. “Didn’t know that?”

“You never talked about it to me,” you sniffle again, nausea suddenly hitting you, making you sway a bit. “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna…” you rush off then to one of his bathrooms, not one of your finer moments, and as a best friend always does, he holds your hair while you’re sick – it’s not like he hasn’t done it at high school keg parties, or the beginning of college for you – but it’s been a while since you’ve needed it. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, please,” he sighs now, standing. “I’ll get you something for your tummy, you have a toothbrush you can use under the sink, okay?”

“Thank you, Toru,” you hang your head as he walks out, soon you’re on his couch with your legs over his thighs, you all frequently sit like that – but now everything is different. He’s got you nibbling on saltines, and a ginger ale – he’d door dashed them so fast you were surprised.

Then you found out it wasn’t doordash – it was just Ijichi.

Poor Ijichi, really, but you suppose he’s paid well to be at Gojo’s beck and call all the time.

“Eat it,” Satoru commands quietly, studying you. “It’ll help.”

“I’ll throw it up again.” You nibble, little teeth marks on the cracker as you try to chew it a bit. “I keep getting sick.”

“How will you grow a baby if you don’t eat, hmm?” His words hit hard, the sweetness in them, the way he’s looking right at you. “Chew.”

“Yes sir,” you mumble, chewing again.

“Swallow.”

“Don’t say that!?” You’re choking almost on that cracker now as he snorts, smirking just a bit and leaning close.

“Oh, why not? Mind somewhere?” He teases, as if it’s just another day, and watches you get all flustered, playfully shoving him. “Perv.”

“Me!? You got me pregnant!”

“Well, you told me to keep going.”

“You little shit,” he shoves the ginger ale can in your hand again, narrowing those baby blues.

“Drink.”

“Just don’t say swallow, god,” he snorts and rolls his eyes a bit, leaning back on the couch, you see it’s getting dark outside now. “I need to head back soon.”

“Just stay,” it was normal to stay, before that night, before you knew how good his lips felt on your shoulders, his teeth sinking into the nape of your neck, cock railing your cunt from behind.

It was not normal anymore.

You look at his lips, wondering what it would be like to press yours on them, they were soft on your skin, but things were so hasty you both didn’t do that. Probably for the best, they were too plump and glossy, unfairly pretty like all of Satoru Gojo was, really, best you don’t even think of it.

“I should go,” you finally manage to say, and Satoru frowns. “I really have a lot to do tomorrow with work.”

Work.

He forgets you have your summer job, concern hitting his features then. “In your condition?”

“I’m barely pregnant, silly,” you playfully push him again, standing now. “I will see you at the appointment?”

“Of course,” he hugs you a little too long at the door, he can tell you’re fucking terrified as you hug him back, but…

Satoru’s not upset, at all actually.

Instead, he orders anything and everything a baby could need, and a million baby books, studying everything there was to know, picturing it all.

No, he was…

Excited.

Terrified but fucking excited to think of it – of the one girl he’s always loved carrying his baby, but he tries to rein it all in, the last thing he needs to do is pressure you either way with any decision. So instead, when you text him the details and a little good night with a heart, he simply writes back –

See you then. Night, sweetheart 

Before studying again like a little psycho all night – by the time your visit comes, Satoru Gojo is an entire fucking expert on everything pregnancy related, in fact. What else was a best friend for, really, if not to support you with everything?

And if in the next week he jerks it hopelessly to the thought of fucking you and cumming in you, well…

He can’t really help that.

*****

The next week

The gel is cold against your skin as the doctor spreads it across your stomach with the little wand, your shirt slid up to your chest, showing a tummy still mostly flat.. Gojo sits beside you, his hand clenched in yours, his face paler than usual despite how supportive he is being.

You've both been quiet since arriving at the doctor, even in the back of his car as his driver brought you, there was not much said. He tried to lighten the mood by showing you videos of dumb things, but when it didn’t work, and he knew you needed the quiet? He gave you it, just keeping a hand touching your thigh the entire ride.

Comforting, he was comforting you – as the reality of this situation was sinking deeper with each passing moment.

A baby.

Would you have it? Would you keep it? Part of you has always loved kids, but you never expected to be a mother yet, especially not being married or at least with someone. Not your best friend – and was he still going to be that? Would he resent you for your decision, would-

"Alright, let's see what we can find," the doctor says, moving the wand across your belly and thankfully cutting off your thoughts. “Hmm… let’s try here.”

You stare at the screen as he delves lower, pressing a bit on your pelvis – your heart is pounding so quickly you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. There's just static for some time, and you feel yourself getting sick as Satoru watches with you, seeing the shape of your uterus right on the screen.

Fuck - what if something’s wrong!? What if…

“Hey,” Satoru smiles at you, feeling your panic – he’s always known you so fucking well, and now is no different. He runs his thumb across your knuckles softly. “Hear that?”

“No I…” There it is.

A flicker. A tiny, rapid fluttering on the screen, and the sounds, little whooshes quickly echoing in the room, it’s so fast, you can’t take what it does to you in that moment, feeling tears in your eyes. “See?”

“A heartbeat…” You whisper, he grins all big, his teeth white and bright, that smile fucking ruining you.

Another pregnancy symptom?

Apparently being too fucking horny – and being around Gojo made everything a million times worse. Did he have to be so attractive? Did he have to smell so damn good? Did he have to hold your hand like this with his pretty blue eyes glittering, like he’s got it all together when you don’t?

How were you ever just his friend before, you always had something for him, sure. High school crush, college crush, puppy love – but through it all you always knew that friendship was the most important thing. Yet now you know what it’s like for him to grip your hips, to hold you, to bend you over and break you apart on him. To have his body on top of you.

How could you forget it when you’ll be seeing him constantly for years?

"That's the heartbeat," the doctor says with a smile, shaking you out of your heated thoughts. "Strong and healthy. Looks like you're about ten weeks along."

Tears spring to your eyes as you turn to look at Satoru, seeing his own are affixed now to the screen, his lips slightly parted. He looks from the screen to your stomach, then back again, his expression one of pure awe.

"Is that… that’s the baby?”

“Yes, it’s hard to see this early,” the doctor takes a few pictures, it’s a tiny, moving little thing, so small it’s hard to tell.

“That's our baby,” you whisper, then curse softly. “I mean…”

“Shh,” Satoru murmurs, his own heart hammering so fast he almost feels faint. He was of course nervous, but seeing it and seeing you – the girl he’s loved as long as he can remember? He can’t help his dopey fucking grin. “It is.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, all pretty, flushed cheeks, blushing when Satoru offers to clean the gel off your tummy and you sit up, it squishes just a bit, making you curse. “Ugh, already.”

“You look perfect,” he says it before he can stop himself, his hand moving gently to wipe your skin clean, you look down, thighs pressing together, as his eyes flick to yours. “You’ll be pretty, all pregnant.”

“No way, my mom got huge and I will too!”

“So? It’s part of that,” you frown again. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” He tilts your chin as you slide your shirt down.

“What’s going on in your mind right now?”

“That I’m selfish, self centered to think of my body,” you pout a bit. “Stretch marks, titties getting so big, tummy huge. God, my ankles will too! My friends have all been so miserable, ugh. And I should worry less about that, and more about how I’ll raise this damn baby. Am I…”

“Shh,” he kisses your temple now, and you lean against him, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re in your early twenties, pretty normal to be worried about your body changing, I don’t think that’s selfish. Okay?”

“You always make me feel better,” you snuggle against him, loving this too fucking much, inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth.

“What are friends for? Besides… getting you pregnant I mean.”

“Satoru!”

“Well…” You snort and shove at him, shaking your head. “When’s the next appointment?”

“Two weeks for a physical type check… do you…”

“I’ll be there.”

*****

The next physical went great, and Satoru’s been reading even more baby books – you’d decided to keep it and had let him know it was his choice, of course, if he wanted to be involved. Because this was both your choices.

Of course Satoru did.

There was no world he’d ever let you do this alone and not support you – though he doesn’t tell you exactly how excited he really is, he is so nervous in these moments, especially knowing how scared you still are. So he tries to be comforting, reassuring, there for you.

He was right there on time, taking you there, and fuck he looked good. He had on this sweater that was so soft you wanted to snuggle against it, that cologne in your senses, almost making you salivate.

Fuck.

As if you didn’t want him before, at three months pregnant it was worse than ovulation, it was like you needed to cum constantly. You’d played with your pussy every day to avoid this, to hope that you could act normal with him, but when he’d brushed this tiny stretch mark on your skin and smiled?

When he’d murmured cute.

When he held the door open for you, sliding in and talking about everything he’s researched on babies? Well, that’s when it’s almost fucking impossible to control, thighs pressed together with your hands between them, as if you can keep yourself from touching him somehow on the drive back.

You're impossibly quiet in the back seat of his sleek black car, Ijichi drives Gojo everywhere, you’re not even sure Satoru can drive – there’s no point really though. You don’t blame him one bit, but it was always pretty fucking cool in school to get those rides home with him – memories twist and blur just a bit as he brushes a lock of your hair back, smiling at you.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to discreetly press your thighs together even more, to not just straight up whine out from the friction, but it's no use. You're so  horny it hurts, your panties soaked to all hell, your clit pulsing with need, literally twitching from his proximity.

What sort of pregnancy thing was this? This wasn’t in a book.

"You okay, sweetheart?” Satoru asks softly now, glancing over at you. "You've been squirming, are you uncomfy? I think cramps can still happen – and your back can hurt from it. I can rub it?"

“No! I mean!? No!? I mean…” You curse, shaking your head. "I'm fine is all I meant!”

“Fine?” You nod quickly, making him sigh. “Am I being too touchy with you? Offering to-”

“No, no. God I appreciate you so much, never,” you mumble, shaking your head. “It’s not that at all.”

“Okay…” He exhales now.

“You thought that?”

“You’re so tense around me,” he brushes his hand against your thigh softly. “Like you’re clenched up, I worried I…”

“No… I’m just… not okay.”

"What's wrong?" he asks, brows furrowing just a bit. "Are you in any pain or anything? I need to know if you are."

"Not exactly," you admit, your cheeks flushing, burning fucking hot, god is this car just hot!? Is his skin burning!? "It's just... I'm really... uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable how? I can turn up the AC, and you can lean on me?”

You hesitate a bit, he’s being so fucking sweet, and you feel like a deviant right now. Your brain is on nothing but how long his fingers are, how good they’d feel inside you, fuck when you’d been together you’re not sure he touched you much. He had slipped them in for a moment but you were so needy you had begged him to put it in.

Oh and that stretch.

But they’re long, and they’re thick, thumb brushing your thigh. You sigh, shutting your eyes again.

“You know you can tell me anything, yeah? Known you since the fucking fifth grade, now is not time to get shy.”

“Right…” You take a shaky breath. “It’s embarrassing."

“Okay, how?”

"I'm horny," you blurt it out, watching his own blush, cursing a bit. "Like, painfully horny. I feel like I will jump you, straddle you, fuck your hands are so big and… Satoru, were they always this big!?”

“Were they…” He laughs nervously. “What?

“Were they always this big – and why do you smell like that?” He blushes brighter as you lean forward, your hand covering his. “I’m going to lose it, I can’t act like this, but it’s like I’m going to die if I don’t cum. I’m wet from nothing.”

Oh fuck.

He can’t take that, looking at you as you lean forward, your tits are right in his view, that sleeve falling off your off shoulder sweater, showing too much of your pretty skin. He swallows nervously, it takes everything not to just drag you on his lap and pump you full of cum.

God, what would your nipples look like dripping milk? How big and full would your tits get? He feels like he’s the pervert, and you’re over here worrying, he can see it as you pull back just a bit.

"Oh. That's... that's a thing? With pregnancy?” He tries to act calm, cock throbbing.

"Apparently," you mutter, shifting again. "And it's fucking awful right now, I am not trying to be… distant, okay? I…”

The car hits a bump and you whine out.

“Ugh!” You cover your face, Satoru is quiet for a moment, then clears his throat, taking your hands down slowly, making you look at him. “This is embarrassing!"

“Nah, it’s… just…” He swallows a bit, nervous as his fingers wrap around your delicate wrists. "I could... I mean, if it would help... I could help you out. As a friend if you um… want? As… a baby daddy… friend or-"

You blink then. "What?"

"Just... to take the edge off I could help you feel better," he murmurs, his cheeks still slightly flushed, eyes dark. "I helped you get in this state, I could at least help you with this, to make you cum, hmm?”

“Make me cum?” You’re trembling a bit at that. “Like and… it’s fine with you?”

“Is it fine with me,” he laughs a bit, shaking his head, tilting your chin up. “You askin’ if I have a problem making you cum for me?”

“I just,” you bury your face against his chest, his hand slipping up your thigh achingly slow. “Make me cum how?”

“You keep staring at my hands, do you want my fingers inside you?” You suck in a breath, burying your face again, feeling his thumb brushing your skin. “What else is your best friend for, hmm?"

“Satoru,” you laugh softly, biting down on your lip, peeking over at the partition. “Would he hear?”

“You were loud,” you gasp and playfully shove at him. “I’m kidding… kind of. You really were.”

“I’ll be a little quiet,” you whisper. “You were loud too.”

“Brat, tch,” you giggle, and it feels perfect.

Satoru is your best friend.

Satoru got you pregnant.

Now Satoru Gojo’s fingers are sliding up your thighs, his fingertips tugging at the waistband of those leggings, you love wearing them lately, with your body already changing just a bit. “Are you sure you want me to?”

“Yes,” you whisper, a hand slipping up his chest, shaky just a bit as his fingertips slip lower. “Helping me as my friend.”

“Best friend.”

“Best ever,” you whisper – delusional – nodding so he has the okay, his fingers are just a bit hesitant at first, gently tracing the edge of your panties before slipping underneath, finding you. “Mnh!”

You gasp as his fingers brush against your folds, already slick with arousal, embarrassingly so in fact – so wet the squelch is loud as he darts it up your slit, Satoru moans softly, looking into your eyes and slipping lower. His fingertip dips in, and even more slick drips out, your panties already sticky, he lets out a little hum, running them up, studying you.

"Fuck," he murmurs, voice breathy. "You weren't kidding, you’re soaked, sweetheart, hmm?”

You shake your head in response, spreading your thighs wide for his fingers to explore you, he finds your clit easily, circling it gently and all teasing, making you whine out in frustration before applying more pressure, drawing patterns like he had that night months ago.

“Satoru!” You whisper it, trying to keep quiet as you arch against his hand, a desperate whine escaping your lips again, hands gripping at his sweater too tightly.

"Like that?" he asks, his voice soft, god does he have to sound like that? You’re trying to keep it together, but the faster his fingers rub your twitchy lil clit, the worse.

"Yes, y-yes like that I…. mhm!”

He knows your body, he has no problem sliding two in deep, curving up and letting the heel of his palm graze your needy clit, squishing noises even louder as he watches you, waiting for you to fall apart for him.

“So wet,” he murmurs, moving faster. “You’re close, hmm?”

You nod quickly, letting him lean forward – as if he may kiss you, just hovering a centimeter away as he works your cunt, lifting his chin and looking down at you, eyes hungry and bright blue.

“Then cum, let go,” he whispers, and you do it like on command, earning his soft, murmured praise, orgasm rushing through you until you’re high from it, resting your face against his neck.

“Toru,” you breathe out, eyes shutting, the orgasm so much better than what you can do yourself.

"Better?" he asks softly, pulling his fingers back just a bit, eyeing that slick and moaning. “Fuck…”

"Much better,” you mumble, seeing that amount of slickness and panicking. “Oh god sorry…”

“For what? Being soaked?” He smirks a bit. “No need.”

“I um…” He sucks your cunt off his fingers, making your lips part at the filthy little act, something you’ve never seen with any other partner.

He just tasted your cunt, his cheeks hollowing.

“I um… you uh…” Words. Use words. “I… th-thhank you?"

"Anytime," he says with a small smile, chuckling a bit as your flavor hits his tastebuds. “What sort of friend would I be if I let you hurt like that?”

“Right, you’re winning the best friend – baby daddy award,” he snorts, and the two of you act fine, act as if this was just that.

You’re both too fucking scared to admit what it really is.

*****

A month later

You're staying over at Gojo's place again – it's become more frequent since the pregnancy was confirmed. The two of you spend a lot of time together, preparing a bit or just enjoying each other’s company. You had to tell your families, which was not an easy conversation, especially with Satoru’s parents.

They’d been appalled quite frankly, Satoru was supposed to marry who they wanted him to, they were anything if not distant and terrible as long as you knew him. You’d held his hand that night during that dinner, and asked if he wanted you to stay over again, quiet as you both drove home.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured softly, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, I expected much worse.”

“I still want to,” you had said, kissing his cheek, your eyes fluttering shut, his hand had instinctively touched your tummy, getting rounder now, something so intimate and sweet it almost broke you.

You hated going home alone.

There were plenty of rooms – but tonight you couldn’t just sleep in one, tossing and turning until you got up in the middle of the night, peeking to see Satoru asleep, sprawled across his bed with his lankly limbs – the sheets tangled around his waist. You watch him for a moment, you’ve seen him asleep countless times, but everything lately has felt so different.

“Toru?”

“Hmm?” He opens his eye and turns, peeking at you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

His voice is all raspy with sleep, making your heart flutter. God he’s even cuter, leaning up in the dark, brushing a hand through his hair with a sleepy smile. “Could I sleep in your bed?”

“You want the comfiest one, hmm?” He teases, holding up the blanket for you to crawl in beside him. “Come closer.”

“You sure?” He nods, tugging you against him and sighing, burying his face in your neck. “Will it be too much?”

“No, not at all,” he feels so good, he’s so warm, his body against yours. “Get some sleep.”

But sleep still eludes you, you instead can’t stop thinking of how badly you crave not any kind of food or drink like a normal pregnant girl.

You’re craving Satoru.

God, thinking of that hardness pressing against you in your mouth, to taste him for once, feel him harden on your tongue and pulse. Swallow him down, suck him till he’s whimpering, cumming over and over?

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, hmm?” He teases you again. “I feel your brain whirling over there.

“I’m having an odd craving,” you mumble, turning over to him now, he raises a brow at you, yawning.

“I’ll order whatever, what is it?”

“You can’t order it,” you bite your lip now, and he laughs.

“You want me to make you cum again?”

“No.”

“No?” You slide down the bed, gently pulling back the sheets a bit, and his breath catches in his throat. He's only wearing boxers, and you can already see the outline of his cock, thick and growing, a little dark spot where pre is slipping. “Oh you… you’re craving…”

“I really want your cock in my mouth.”

Is Satoru fucking dreaming!?

He wonders as he blinks rapidly at you, your fingertips trailing his abdomen, making them tense. “You want my cock in your mouth?”

“Yeah, that sounds insane. I want…” You sigh. “Cum.”

“Cum!? Is that even safe!?”

“I don’t know, that’s not in a book!” You pull back now, sighing. “God I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t go,” he catches your wrist quickly, tugging you against him. “I would never turn down your mouth, you fuckin’ kidding?”

“You sure?”

“Am I sure,” he shuts his eyes, trying not to act as eager as he really is, and completely failing. “In what world does anyone turn that down? Especially from you.”

“You want it then?” You whisper, reaching out to trace the length of him through the soft fabric, he whimpers just a bit, the sound making you ache.

“You really wanna suck me till I cum? You don’t want like… ice cream with pickles or something?” You laugh softly, shaking your head, and he tugs you more, your hair falling against his skin, brushing his thigh. “Yeah, go ahead then, sweetheart. You can suck me any time you need.”

“Oh can I?” His hand brushes your hair back reverently as he tugs his cock out, he’s close to telling you he’s in love just when you kiss his flushed tip, tongue lapping to grab a little bit of white.

“Anytime,”he murmurs again instead, watching as you gently take the tip of him into your mouth, hot and wet. “Fuck…”

“Mnh,” you’re aching as you eye him, and his hand entangles gently into your hair, easing your head down so you can taste him – clean and slightly salty with the white coating your tastebuds. You moan softly as you take more of him in, your tongue swirling around to hit his frenum, making his hips buck up.

“God… so this is really your pregnancy craving?"

You hum around him in response, which makes him groan, thickening in your mouth as you move up and down, reaching for your pussy and touching it, letting him fuck into your throat, pausing then.

“Is it too much?”

You pull back with a messy pop, shaking your head. “I want it.”

“Fuck you’re pretty like this,” he whispers, his hand gentle but firm on the back of your head as you work him with your mouth, taking him deeper with each pass until he's hitting the back of your throat, and you’re gagging on him. “Takin’ me like that? So fucking good, doin’ s’good I…”

He’s mumbling, stuttering as he fucks your throat – just like you were dying for, making you suck harder, aching to taste all of him. Him whispering your name as you drool down his balls, his tip gliding past your uvula, while your fingers fuck in and out of your needy cunt.

“You’re touching her?” He asks softly, you hum in response, he’s lost at how good your throat feels, how tight with every little gasp. “Sucking me has you that needy, hmm?”

“Mhm,” you suck even harder, and he fears he won’t last long, not when you’re cumming, shaking and your throat is contracting, his thick length stretching it so good.

“Want all of that cum in your throat?” He whispers hoarsely, you moan again, eyes looking up under your lashes as he holds your hair in a ponytail. “I’ll give you all of it, then, sweetheart.”

He is not quiet when he cums, no, Satoru Gojo moans – husky and fucking loutd as his hips buck up, and he’s busting his creamy release. It’s spilling down your throat, and you greedily swallow every drop, slurping it all as he gently fucks your throat a few more times, whining out, sensitive.

You take your fingers of your cunt, slick and messy, sucking him up and down, still semi hard, eyes locked on his.

You just sucked Satoru Gojo’s cock.

Your friend since fifth grade.

You pull off, a thick string of saliva and cum dissolving from your licks, as your little pink tongue then gently licks him clean.

“You’re so perfect I…” He trails off, swallowing nervously and then tugging you up. “C’mere.”

You gasp as you land on his chest, and he wraps an arm around you, kissing your lips, tasting his own cum right off you.

You haven’t even kissed Satoru yet.

That’s what’s insane, you’ve gotten pregnant, you’ve fucked him, came on his fingers, but it was as if you both knew the kiss would ruin you, and it does, desperate, needy and sweet. How his hand tangles in your hair, and his lips move, plump and soft against yours.

That’s when the inevitable fact hits your heart – you didn’t just crave cum in your mouth, you wanted to make him feel good, wanted him to fall apart for you, his tongue glides on yours and you can’t help but sigh into his mouth. You lean up a bit, hands on his chest, a smile so big and goofy on his face you melt.

“So, was that just a craving?”

“Were your fingers just helping a friend out?” You ask, he laughs and shakes his head, cupping your face.

“What do you think?” You bury your face nervously, letting him hold you against his body, your heart racing.

“I think everything is insane. And scary and… I don’t ever, ever want to lose you, Satoru.”

“You won’t,” he whispers, kissing gently across your cheek, to your temple, but the words still don’t make it from his lips.

I love you.

It’s like they’re stuck, until you’re fast asleep, and he murmurs them like he did that night you conceived your baby.

*****

It goes on like that, sucking Satoru for your oral fixation, and fuck he’s not complaining, but soon it’s not enough, neither is you letting him finger you when you’re aching. You’re so sexy with your tummy swelling, and your tits so full, your face is glowing and your goddamn eyes are glittering.

You are sinking to your knees after work at your place when he halts you, shaking his head, making you pause.

“Oh um, not today?”

“You stand here,” he says instead, kneeling and making you blush, looking up at you under his snowy lashes. “I want to taste you this time.”

“Toru, you c-can’t… I’m getting big already and-”

“You’re perfect,” you melt when he gently slides up your dress, groaning when he sees your slick, pretty pussy. “Call it my pregnancy craving.”

“You got ‘em too, hmm?” he laughs softly, tickling your skin.

“Why don’t you sit down and spread your thighs,” you obey him – how can you not – sitting at the edge of the bed, eyeing the reflection of you both in your mirror for just a moment, the sight as filthy as it is sweet, worshipping you when he kisses up your inner thigh. “Good girl.”

“You can’t just say that, Toru,” he doesn’t know what it does until this very moment, when he spreads your plump lips, watching the slick pool down, so fucking pretty. His hand brushes up the curve of your tummy, tongue gathering that mess and drinking it with a greedy bob of his Adam's apple. “Mnh!”

“Fuck,” Satoru’s lost now – hand adjusting his straining erection, his other slipping higher, squishing a tit, feeling the weight of it in his palm as he looks up at your body, your face, head falling back.

You’re too pretty pregnant.

All he can think is how he’s almost glad you are right now, he knows it was an ‘accident’ but he’s so fucking happy, having you with him all the time, having your touch, your nearness. Seeing all the changes and knowing in this way the two of you are connected, a toxic little thought nagging at him that he’d love to do it again, next time on purpose.

Maybe he’s very happy pulling out didn’t work, and that the condom broke, when his fingers press into your thighs, and he’s greedily slurping at your cunt now. All gentleness lost as your flavors hit, ones he’s had little hints of at best, watching you suck him was amazing, but Satoru thinks he loves this just as much if not more, drinking your cunt up as you tremble, as you fall apart.

“I’m c-close, fuck I’m…” You’re pressing your thighs on either side, he pulls back, your wetness making his face glisten.

“Hold ‘em open,” he murmurs softly, you prop your feet up on the bed as he sinks further onto the plush of your rug. “Just like that.”

“I’m spread wide though…”

“And you were when I got you this way,” he grins as you blush. “You wouldn’t let me touch you, it was just – in me.”

“Well I wanna say it again,” you admit softly. “But also…”

You tug his hair, bringing his face against you, his moans vibrating on your messy, sensitive clit. Satoru slides two fingers in and fucks them in your hole, slick and drooling onto the carpet with every thrust, his mouth sucking your little clit inside it. A few more flicks and hums, and you’re shattering, cumming so hard you squirt all over him, soaking his shirt.

“Fuck…” He looks at you in wonder, you gasp, covering your face.

“Oh god!? I’ve never…”

“Good,” he is possessive then, as he stands up, sliding your dress until it’s off you completely, leaning forward and kissing your lips. “I’m glad if I made you first.”

“Are you getting possessive of your ‘friend’?” You tease – you both know the word is nonsense at this point, but you’re also scared to say more.

That you’re in love with him.

“Maybe I am…” He admits, his voice breathy and sensual, as you taste yourself, the sweetness from his mouth mixing with your own flavor, addictive. “Maybe I wanna pump you full of me, hmm? Maybe I’ve been wanting to.”

“Then do it,” you whisper, eagerly tugging down his zipper, seeing just how hard and thick he is. “Cum in me.”

“Fuck, seriously!?” You giggle a bit at that, nodding. “What position though? Can you… be on your back? Can you…”

“You didn’t read that part, hmm?” You tease him then, laying back and seeing how his eyes darken, his pretty tip leaking. “I can, but no weight on the tummy at this point so…”

“Got it,” he whispers, hands on your hips, standing between you as you lay there, thighs wide, your mess dripping in rivulets still from your thighs, when his tip hits your slit you both take a breath.

“Ah!” You’re so sensitive during this stage of pregnancy, you almost cum from a rub, embarrassing as it was to squirt on his damn face, you can still see where you soaked his shirt as he leans down, careful not to put weight on you. “Sensitive…”

“Yeah, are you, baby?” You nod quickly, he keeps rubbing it, like to torture you, kissing you while holding himself up and standing, achingly sweet even as his fat cockhead is going faster between your folds. “Yeah you are – gonna cum like this, hmm? Like that night?”

“You r-remember?” You mumble, losing control of your senses, clinging to his biceps, nails pressing over his shirt, Satoru sighs, kissing you again, as you feel your body tense up.

“Of course I remember,” your eyes meet, and you can’t help but shatter with another glide of his tip against your slit, impossibly more squirt spraying him. “God you’re wetter than before. Is that even possible?”

“In me, fuck… stop teasin’ me…” You are already cockdrunk from his tip, and he knows it – smirk on his handsome face. “Toru!”

“Lemme take my time, know how long I’ve waited?” You can’t answer, not when he glides his cock in, careful when in three thrusts he bottoms out, waiting for you to adjust. “Feel so fuckin’ good… you’re soaked…”

“Mhm,” your thighs tremble, he is easing back, his hands trailing down your changing body in a way that should make you nervous.

But you just want more.

“Beautiful…” He whispers, easing back and looking at the mess with every slow stroke, how your puffy lips are moving around his thickness, coated his raised veins till they’re glittery. “Look at you, sweetheart. These tits, so full, I can’t wait till there’s milk dripping.”

You whine out then, eyes rolling back as he begins to move, standing and lifting you just slightly, angling your hips so his cock can rub right on your sweet spot, hitting the little sponginess of it over and over in sweet little kisses. You shatter again, and again, cumming so much you get dizzy, your ears ringing, his cock filling you and stretching you more than you thought you could take.

He’s whispering your name in a way that’s nothing like ‘a friend’ or even a baby daddy, the way he says your name as he rests a hand on your ribcage, the other on your hip, fucking into you? It’s filthy, it’s loving, it’s everything and anything but how he’s said it your whole life, and yet…

It’s still the way he said it the day he met you.

When he first learned your name, the two of you became friends, and he shared his lunch with you because you forgot to make your own. The way when he took you home after school, and when he’d hold open that umbrella, the two Satoru Gojos meld – that one, and this one, a man fucking you up, holding you, his shirt half slid up from your hands.

“Off, off,” you tug impatiently and he laughs, doing just that, letting you touch his abdomen, his chest, gripping his obliques when he starts to move faster. “Ah!”

“Y-you okay, sweetheart?” He manages, pausing then. “Am I too…”

“Love it,” you mumble instead, shaking now. “Love it, please… more…”

“I’ll give you anything when you ask so sweet,” he eases out and you gasp, scowling at him. “I’m just going to make you more comfy, don’t you glare at me.”

“I said more and you… oh…” He’s gently putting a little pillow underneath your hips now, and you sigh, lashes fluttering. “That is better.”

“Mhm, impatient girl,” he glides back in, hitting your spot even better, every drag of his tip having you closer and closer. “You sure you want my cum? You wanna be so full of me it drips out all day?”

“Yes,” it’s automatic, your answer, Satoru whines out then, his cheeks all flushed, his eyes lidded and heavy – you feel him pulsing inside, he’s so big in your slick, messy walls. “Please… cum inside I… mnh!”

“Fuck,” Satoru gives you just that – all his milky cum, coating your walls in white, trembling as you milk him for every drop.

Oh, and when he sees that mess pouring from your pretty cunt? Well he can’t help but fuck it back inside, but this time with you on your knees, your head resting on the bed as he holds your body up. Watching the thick coating of his own white release slipping down his cock, his balls heavy again.

He gives you more of it – more of him, desperately whimpering in your ear, cum getting fucked back inside, whispering those treacherous words that you didn’t hear last time. But this time you do, you turn your head, drool spilling, eyes all fucked out – Satoru swipes your drool as he busts his load deep in you again, three now just getting fucked deeper, slipping from the mess you both are.

“You l-love me?” You mumble, brows drawn together. “Is that like… just talk during it or…”

“I love you,” he whispers again, a little louder, seeing your eyes glimmer. “Not just because I’m buried inside you and pussy drunk, no. I do love you. God I do.”

“I love you too, Toru,” you whisper, letting him kiss you, drinking his sighs and moans in as he gently rocks his still hard cock inside, in the stuffed full, creamy mess he’s made of you. “I love you too.”

It’s whispered over and over, when he’s showering you, helping you shave, being so gentle and sweet – like he wasn’t just railing your pussy, like he wasn’t fingering his cum back in. No, it’s perfect, the way you can finally not call Satoru Gojo just your friend anymore.

*****

You had a baby with your best friend by accident – but it’s anything but a mistake, in fact when you’re holding her in your arms and smiling at her, seeing the same blue eyes you’ve loved your whole life? When Satoru’s making a bottle downstairs and you’re rocking in the chair in the nursery he had made?

When she’s all milk drunk later in your arms and Satoru is laughing at her little face, brushing her cheek with his thumb? You know it was all for some reason, even if it’s a little too soon, and even if you’re not fully ready yet – you know it’s perfect here, having him kiss your head, sighing and looking at her.

“She’s so cute like this,” he says softly, brushing some of her downy hair that’s forming, you ease the bottle and she is still sucking. “She needs a binky?”

“Mhm,” he hands you one, and you slip it in her mouth, grinning all big up at Satoru now. “She looks so much like you. I’m not sure my genetics tried.”

“Well, I do have Gojo genes,” he’s all puffing his chest, you can’t help but giggle, before wincing a bit at the pain. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Still sore,” you admit, he gently takes her and places her in the pretty little bassinet, swaddling her up tightly before coming to you, helping you up. “Thank you… Toru, thank you for everything. I was scared at first, but…”

“I was too,” he admits, peeking down at you – still so beautiful, but the strain of having her has taken it’s toll. You’ve got dark circles, and your color isn’t all back yet, he picks you up before you can stop him.

“Toru!”

“You’re taking a nap.”

“I can walk!”

“I know,” he holds you anyway, you yawn and bury your face against his neck, lashes tickling his skin. “I love her so much.”

“I do too,” you admit, giggling. “So much I almost want another.”

“Another, hmm?’

“Not any time soon!” He just grins as he lays you down. “You deviant, don’t even think about it for at least two years!”

“Sure, I wasn't thinking about it at all,” he sighs as he sees your nipples dripping though, thumb brushing over one, tasting it. “Oh it’s sweet.”

“You little freak,” you tease, but you let him have just a taste, a little flick of his tongue before he tugs up your top. “Take a nap with me.”

“All right,” he is tired too, just trying to keep wide awake for you, but when he cuddles you to him, and feels you against him, he can’t stop his grin.

He got his best friend pregnant by accident – but the next time will absolutely be on purpose.

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“Or perhaps that’s too soon…” She trails off and looks deeply into your palm once more, humming to herself. “Yes, far too soon…”

“I don’t understand.” And you’re sure the hint of crossness seeps its way into your tone- if not, then your expression. This was your third and final year at Mount Inferno, and your friends had finally convinced you to pay a visit to the famous fortune teller—you’d put it off long enough, tomorrow you’d be graduating.

Tomorrow, you’d be leaving this mountain - and everyone you met atop it.

 A long-extinct volcano, though life still bubbled at its peak. 

Columns of paper. Red headbands. The sound and trundle of mastery in pursuit. The best of the best; from all nations far and wide, every tribe, every village, students are summoned to the Fire Nation to study at the ancient Mount Inferno. For three years until adulthood. The school was scattered across the Inferno volcano range, deep amongst curdling springs and prickly growth, the pride of the Fire Nation, with its courtyard situated on the very highest peak. It was a truce between nations- and more than that, an intermingling of the future’s most famed. Some students have gained reputations for their powers before even starting here, and it had been somewhat jarring to see all these big, big names come to real life before you. 

There was the Waterbending child prodigy that turned water into ambrosia - Ieri Shoko. There was the heir to the Earthbending Zenin family, nobles recently handpicked as ambassadors for the Fire Nation royals, pompous yet powerful (you and Shoko dunked him into one of the cold springs on your first day). Even more, there was Masamichi Yaga, the renowned Earthbending master, as your teacher. 

And most of all, there was Geto Suguru: prince of the Fire Nation. 

Or at least, he was in blood.

Though in name…it was murmured and known across every tribe that there was bad blood between the Fire Lord and the prince. He was the sole heir. He was their hope. He was their future- and yet, the first cracks in the picture-perfect royal family were shown when Geto had been sent to Mount Inferno. 

Normally, imperial members were honed to become the deadliest of weapons in the confines of their palaces. Private tutors, techniques, and rigorous training hours you couldn’t even imagine.

No one knew the exact reason, but the message was clear enough.

You yourself had gotten your invitation (more like summons) to Mount Inferno the day after.

Your parents had yelped in joy and told the village elders; the first student in a hundred years to be called from the most revered of the Fire Nation from your little tribe, they celebrated for seven days and nights. 

And on Mount Inferno is where you met Geto Suguru. 

In your first year. Walking along Mount Inferno; head held high and his air untouchable even in punishment. Students - from first-years to third-years - looked but didn’t speak. Hair down to his shoulders, tied. Robes lined with golden. Equally as golden shoes stepped down the gravelly pathway in a painfully trained staccato, and they were just about to pass you like the rest of them before—

A droplet of water leapt out and splashed Prince Geto’s golden shoes.

You and Shoko had just dunked Naoya’s head into the cold springs anew- thrice for talking garbage about women in the first place, once more for each time he refused to apologize. 

You wouldn’t kill the idiot, of course- you’d just teach him a lesson. At fifteen he should know better. 

And this was about the twenty-third time and your arm had grown tired from holding down the stupid aristocrat—but you weren’t going to give up on making him eat his words any time soon, alright? Especially not now. Especially not after all he’d said. It didn’t matter if you had to miss orientation and stay here until Yaga had to drag you away- you’d only go kicking and screaming.

And perhaps ‘accidentally’ throwing a first at the damn Zenin brat who-

“Whaddaya staring at?” So, needless to say, you weren’t the happiest of benders when you caught stopping and staring at you less than a foot away. 

The spring was on one side of the path leading to the courtyard, and any student walking could easily have avoided it altogether - most did. Most flickered their eyes to the commotion and flickered them away even faster, either not wishing to get involved or not wishing to help Naoya of all people. You see, he’d already made an impression.

One that’d left you slightly more than just cranky- “You wanna be next or what?” You glowered at the long-haired boy. You wouldn’t be expelled just for this- you and Shoko doubted anyone would speak on behalf of the Zenin tyrant anyways. Besides, this was before your first lesson, and if you two weren’t recognized as students yet—then there was technically no expulsion to be done, right? 

But to your surprise, Shoko reached across Naoya’s bent-over body to elbow you. “Oi- shut your mouth if you wanna keep it.”

Narrowing your eyes suspiciously at her, “Why?” You’d just met the girl today, but you had an inkling you’d be good friends. 

“Don’t you know who that is-”

“Should I?”

She looked at you with widened, disbelieving brown eyes. And it seemed as though she was about to continue- 

But before that, the boy casually cocked his head to the side. His deep, charcoal-black hair framed his aristocratic face in a way that looked like a picture. “You’re both Waterbenders, correct?”

You and Shoko shared a look. “Yes…?” She answered. Both Waterbenders; though from different tribes - Shoko was of more nomadic origins, the village of water healers. Whilst yours was a quieter, more diminutive tribe of fishermen and marine waterbenders—you grew up with honed steel and the scent of blood. If you cut yourself, then the strongest healer was several villages away. 

The elite-ling before you surely grew up with padded cushions and perfume to make your eyes roll. That irritation weighed down your brows, “What’s it to you?”

His eyes flitted between the two of you, before ultimately resting on you. And to your surprise, he smiled- smiled.

Long and feline.

Ear to gauged ear.

That was the first time Geto Suguru ever smiled at you. Had you known that at some point in your future, those smiles would grow so rare and ravishing, then you would have counted your blessings more scrupulously. 

But back then, you’d merely blinked.

And he’d been feeling a tendril of black hair between his fingers, scrutinizing, before he threw it over his shoulder. “Oh, nothing.” He began to walk off without even a single glance backward, “Seeing as you two are Waterbenders, I was just hoping you two didn’t know that my friend Naoya here has a certain…aversion for sharks. That’s all.”

You and Shoko looked at each other once more.

And it would have sounded like yet another goad- it would have. But you and Shoko looked at each other with a whole new understanding—huh…is that so? And whilst she held Naoya down, you reached your dominant hand out and concentrated on the spring water with all your might. The ripples of it. The drowning texture. Power coursed through you, aqueous, and in the absence of its shape- you bent the water into the shape of a gaping shark underneath. 

And made it dart straight for Naoya dunked underneath. 

Bubbles erupted furiously on the surface of the water as he screamed and thrashed- yet you and Shoko only held him down harder. Held him down until the dagger-like teeth of the ‘shark’ were but mere centimeters from his face—

Then - and only then - do you pull him out by his close-cropped brown hair. 

The pinkish face of the Zenin heir gasped for air, and through blubbers, through tears, through swears, he somehow managed out. “I-I’m sorry—!” He clenched his eyes shut, “Fuck- I’m sorry, I won’t say women should walk three steps behind…” 

Your fingers dug into his collar even tighter.

“I mean-” He quickly rectified, pathetically shaking both the water and the thought out of his head. Like this, you couldn’t help but snort at him. “I won’t say…such things ever again-” His beady eyes slid to the side and narrowed at you, “Just- please- let me go—”

“Sure.” You eyed him just as wickedly, “If you admit it now that women and other folk can be just as powerful benders as men?” In support, the water gurgled and whirled into a conspicuously-shaped jaw. A shark.

Naoya sputtered, “Y-yes—yes. Women and- o-others can be just as powerful benders as men.” Thrashing even harder, “Please let me go—!”

“Sure thing.” You glanced at Shoko. And at the same time, you both unhanded Naoya’s twisted-up arms and let him fall face-first into the spring with a deafening splash! Cheekily, the water shaped at your whim into the open maw of a shark just as he plummeted. Hungry. 

And it was all Naoya could do to let out a high-pitched squeal as he fell into the sharp-toothed, watery abyss. He crash-landed into the spring once more and scrambled to his feet, pushing past other students as he scurried in the opposite direction. 

You and Shoko hooted at him the entire way down, only stopping once you lifted your head and caught—

Just a glimpse of amethyst eyes.

Before he turned back around, long hair swaying from side-to-side as he made his way up those steep stone steps. The number of students still making their way up were diminishing, and the first bell was likely to ring soon- but you stood there frozen in your red and black Mount Inferno robes, a blue gem fastened to your belt. Looking after a boy with a red gem attached to his own. “Shoko…who was that?”

“You seriously didn’t know?” She picked her satchel up from where it’d been discarded by some shrubbery on the pathway, and looked at you closely. “That’s the crown prince, Geto Suguru.”

The myth. The prodigy. The disgrace. 

“The Geto Suguru?” You asked. 

She nodded seriously.

How odd it was that a boy that elicited such a reaction would be the only one to save you two seats for the courtyard orientation. How odd it was that he’d whisper little facts to you about the lost Airbender at your first lesson.

How odd it was that Geto Suguru, the punished fire prince, became your best friend. 

He was attached to you by the hip, practically.

He was part of you enough.

Goading you into training long nights at the dojos, throwing spirals of water and fire shooting off cliffsides and seeing who could send them the farthest, helping you discover new springs on Mount Inferno (then promptly pushing you into them), whispering schemes to dunk Naoya or another one of his misogynistic reverse-harem again. For teachers, there was a higher chance of finding you both as a unit - and a trio with Shoko - than finding either one separated. 

Which also meant that punishments for breaking one of the Fire Nation’s 80,000 rules was also handed out as a collective. 

You win some, you lose some. 

Though he’d been off at some meeting or the other with bending master Yaga when Shoko - your other best friend - convinced you to make a dash for it- just a last hurrah. Down the volcano to fortune teller Tsukumo, in and out, before anyone ever notices that you broke curfew. After graduation tomorrow you might never see her again—this was your last chance. 

Though she was a Waterbender, Lady Tsukumo was known to be nomadic. 

And with Shoko’s urgency buzzing in your ears, and the never-ending uncertainty of what life held after graduation nagging at you- you made the descent. 

Which is where you found yourself being heartily laughed at by the blond-haired bender, her head thrown back and her candles flickering - it made it seem as though even the shadows were having a guffaw at your expense. 

“Don’t understand?” She asks, what seems like much later. She wipes away a mirthful tear at the corner of her eyes and looks at you in bewilderment, “Don’t understand—? Oh, of course, you don’t understand- tied for first place in scores with the prince, and yet you don’t understand, hm?”

You gape, “How did you-”

“A teller always knows.” The older woman winks, and pulls your palm closer for her to examine. “Tell me now, my dear, what is your type?”

“My- my type—” Sputtering.

“Yes, yes-” Lady Tsukumo tuts impatiently, “Your type. And be specific.”

And even though there was no one here but the two of you- you couldn’t help but cast a sidelong glance around the room. Feeling your heartbeat start to pick up, “I suppose…someone kind. Someone smart- emotionally smart. Someone that loves me for m-”

“Booooooring—!” She announces.

And your jaw just- drops.

What the…

Gaze wide as a mad glint creeps into her eyes. Shoko, you shall never be forgiven. “E-excuse me-”

“You’re excused.” Lady Tsukumo - you wondered whether she had given the title to herself - waves a hand breezily your way. She continues looking down at your upward-facing palm, “Now here’s what I actually see about your type-”

You gulp.

“Tall.”

Alright.

“A powerful bender.”

Well, alright.

“Handsome- no, gorgeous.” She looks most excited at that one—“Long hair. Pretty face. The stuff you write songs about.”

Well, certainly alright…

She turns your palm from side-to-side to capture every angle- then presses two fingers to your wrist and listens to your pulse. Lady Tsukumo’s eyes close. “Hmmm.” She pauses and listens, “And it’s exactly who you have in mind.”

You gasp-

And her eyes sparkle with excitement before—

“I-I didn’t have anyone in mind-”

“Liiiiiiies~!” The blonde-haired woman proudly announces. Before digging her polished nails even deeper into your pulse and seemingly reaping every sweet secret held inside. “I sense tension. I sense confessions long held. I sense agony-” Catching the look in your eyes, “Oh- but the good kind.”

She beams and you narrow your eyes suspiciously at her.

“The good kind- I promise…at least for me to read in here about.” And before you can call her out on it, she presses even harder. “I sense…a wedding here in the Fire Nation.”

And beside yourself, you can feel something at the pit of your stomach lurch. “A w-wedding—?”

She nods, “A royal wedding.” Having successfully put that little hiccup aside, she only grows more excited now. “With public announcements and a national holiday…you’ll wear the traditional Fire Nation garments-” To which you frown, as you’ve always loved the thought of getting married in your own traditional clothes. “-and the feast will be merry and plentiful. And at the end of the night…”

Suddenly, she stops. 

A little furrow forms between her brows.

In silence, Lady Tsukumo runs her hand up and down your forearm as though playing the harp. Counting your pulse. Reading your veins. Almost to your elbow. Pressing harder at your wrist to confirm—

“There will be death.”

The words pierce right through you- you feel faint.

But Lady Tsukumo’s grip on your hand is unyielding. She’s almost breaking through skin with her nails - “Death is lonely here.” By now, her hazel eyes are shot wide open and staring right through you - unseeing - as she continues almost in a daze—“A single life will be lost on your wedding night at your hand. Before Dawn has defeated darkness, darkness shall be defeated within. And red shall stain the floors of a royal suite.”

Those all-seeing eyes of her close.

“In blood as we are borne, two worlds reunite under life and death.”

The candles hush. 

Darkness.

By the time that Lady Tsukumo has waved them back alight again, you still have your hand reached out and your palm facing upwards. Though the tips of your fingers have started reaching inwards - they remind you of the fire lilies that Geto snuck you out to watch blossom your first year. Shoko had been caught cheating by Yaga and made to do revisions whilst you two explored. A valley of them between the furthest peaks of your school: they were the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. And so you’d returned.

Your second year. And then your third year.

Though they were ephemeral - just a few weeks of blossoming per year before they crumpled. 

And with it, something else crumples, too.

Tsukumo Yuki softly intertwines your fingers with hers and squeezes. Then she says in a soft voice, “I’ll tell you a little secret, young Waterbender. Just as you reshape the water, you have the power to shape your own destiny.”

The night is different when you’re finally stepping out.

Crisp and cool; almost to a sharp fault. The door to the fortune teller closes behind you with a click! and you’re standing upon her step- looking up at the moon. 

“I know you’re there, Suguru.”

And from the darkness emerges a playful groan. “How did I pass stealth lessons again?”

You chuckle, “I just know you too well.”

“I’ll say. Shoko told me you came down here so I thought I’d come to escort you.”

Geto Suguru - eighteen just like you - steps into view underneath Lady Tsukumo’s hanging lanterns; admired so ardently by flying termites that flutter around the light in infatuation until their wings fall off mid-flight, and they drop to the floor—crawling around in bafflement as they try to reach their radiant lover once more before they inevitably die. 

Under that same light, you’re taking him in.

It’s been quite some time since you’d splattered spring water over the young prince’s golden shoes- and Geto Suguru has grown considerably since then.

His hair had gotten longer. His smile just a little more feline. The princeling you’d had to look down at to speak had hit a sudden growth spurt once he’d reached about halfway through your first year. First to become lanky. And then his body had given him about two more surges in his second year just for the hell of it, just to leave him amongst the tallest in the grade. 

And it didn’t matter how tall you yourself were- Geto was at least a head taller and it honestly got on your nerves a little that you now had to raise your head to speak with him.

Your best friend.

Your best friend…right?

Third year was when he started filling his frame out more. 

It honestly wasn’t something you thought about until you just-so-happened to notice - and once you did, you just couldn’t seem to stop.

Because Firebender Geto had always been painstaking about keeping his training schedule rigid, keeping his techniques exceptional, never dropping below a cool #1 in Firebending ranks. Never one to fall behind, that was what influenced you to claw up to #1 yourself in Waterbending- and though Shoko wasn’t the type to take things as seriously as the two of you - at least not outwardly - you could tell that she put a certain amount of ‘effortless’ effort into maintaining #2 in Waterbending. But of course, #1 in all healing lessons. 

He was one of the earliest to master Firebending. 

And it was exactly those extra hours of training and duels that left you a honed warrior- and Geto…someone that was hard to keep your eyes off of.

All that height? He was now padding on extra muscle n’ heft to make his frame much more intimidating - like those royal warriors you’d see mentioned in history classes. Corded shoulders. Defined pecs. Chiselled abs. 

Little by little; training sessions with your best friend had begun getting a lot harder when he’d take his helmet off to let his long, river-like black hair cascade down his shoulders. Sticking to his forehead. Pushed out of his thoroughly pretty face. Glistening with sweat—Geto would pant as he tears through the sizzling layers of his armor, bearing more and more skin than you think you could bear-

You once did.

Before everything got so…strange. Whenever Geto would take off his armor - complaining about it being too hot to duel - you’d merely used to throw your helmet at him and do the same. 

But now when he was calling your name, breath ragged, staring at you with half-lidded exhausted eyes…

The one thing that ran through your mind was how his waist was so grabbable-

Before you know it, the real-life Geto Suguru is leaning down and giving your forehead a good flick. And the thing about him is that he doesn’t hold back, either, so you’re left paying for the absence of your own caution. 

Your best friend.

Your best friend.

Your best friend.

Whining as you rub over that spot, “I’m killing you.” The two of you begin heading the treacherous trek up the volcano. “I’m going to finally report you to Yaga for stealing his prized kale cookies- I swear.”

“Sure thing.” He smiles that feline smile, “Just make sure to add that you ate about half of them, too.”

“On second thought, why steal and tell?” 

Geto laughs into the night at that. And you can’t help but turn your head and watch him—so free and unabashed. 

It makes something fuss at the back of your mind- “Hey, Suguru…”

He turns to you, profile illuminated by the pale moonlight. “Yeah?”

“What’d Yaga have to say to you?” You ask—it wasn’t like a teacher to set a meeting so late, and especially right before graduation. Attempting at a joke- “He isn’t failing you or anything, right? It’s nothing serious?”

“As much as I’d love to join you as a super senior—” You snort. You both knew you were making the speech as class first tomorrow. “-no. It wasn’t anything serious.”

Looking to him for more information. 

To which Geto merely looks at you and smiles- he had this little quirk where sometimes his eyes went completely shut as he smiled. And you honestly hadn’t thought of it too much until now. Now…you think it’s the type of thing where one could write a song about it- 

“We just talked about the security measures for when my father arrives.” Geto ultimately sighs, amethyst eyes straight ahead. “Royal visitor and all those tedious things…”

Your lips part, “Ah…” Right. The Fire Lord himself.

“Honestly, I didn’t even think he’d come.” And though he sounds casual about it- you can tell there’s real weight behind Geto’s words. After a few more steps, he turns the questioning onto you. “What about you? What made you decide to go to the fortune teller after all this time?”

You shrug, “Change of pace? Shoko wanted me to do so- ah.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”

And that—that makes you feel so many things at once. So many. 

The excitement. The elation. The heart-stopping moment. The crush. They’re all slamming into you at once- and it’s a complete miracle that you’re able to get out…“Honestly…not much. Guess m’not that predictable, huh?” 

Geto speaks slowly, “Is that so…”

“What about you?” Turning curiously to him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you going down there?”

He breaths out a silver cloud into the cool night air, “I have once. My first day here.”

And that makes your brows raise- you’ve never known…“What’d she say?” Your heart races, and your palms feel sweaty when they clench—

“Honestly?” Geto leans in close- reeeeeally close. He brings his face towards yours - and there’s a brief moment where his gaze drops down to your lips—you think he’s going to do it. You think he’s going to close the distance. You think he’s going to kiss you. You think he’s going to prove every premonition right and wrong and so right at the same time. “Not much.” Before he’s pulling back his index and flicking your forehead once more.

You summon a nearby spring to fashion into an oversized fan, and chase him with it all the way up to the dorms. 

He laughs the entire way. 

Tomorrow was graduation, but every tomorrow after would still be the same.

Would it not?

.

.

.

You wake with a gasp.

You wake to the drums of war.

The morning awakening. The rhythmic beating of a scorned heart. It punctured and pierced and honed itself against the coarse air of the Fire Nation; the crescendo of your traditional drums, followed by the chanting of your nation’s most valiant benders, and the undercurrent of melee when scimitars met jaw blades. You’d gotten used to the sickening crunch of bones being fitted back into place, though the cries of your people still left your stomach churning. 

Like prey in wait, the world of battle never really slept.

Just last week, the Earthbenders had made the journey from their encampment to yours—and by now the gashing of boulders, the screeching of metal, and the accretion of unique war cries had become accompaniments to such mornings, too.

Rousing.

Dust erupted from the savanna plains and a thin layer of it rained down on you from the gaps in your tent. You’re blinking awake at the flood of pus-yellow light, and raising your head off the table- you’d fallen asleep poring over your war plans yet again. 

You can’t remember the last time you slept in a bed - a bed, let alone a comfortable one. But such things were frivolities at a time like this. Everything could be far, far worse. 

You’re leafing through the yellowed parchments on muscle memory, embossed with the insignia of every Earth and Water tribe in the land. There were many such papers; each one differing in only slight revisions, though with the same contents and proposition addressed to the Fire Lord. Your once-friend.

It’s been nine years since you graduated at the top of Mount Inferno—Geto had been standing right beside you that day as Earthbending master Yaga announced your class as he’d announced you all as the new generation of bending masters. The future. The hope. And you exchanged a look with Shoko and Geto that day, tenderness churning within your chest when it sank in that this would be the last time you’d be standing in this courtyard like this. The last time that Mount Inferno would truly ever be yours.

And so you nodded- you’d planned for this moment for a long time.

As Yaga finished his speech, you kept your hands behind your back and flicked them- just a flick. Enough to summon droplets of clear, glistening water from every surrounding spring. 

They rose high above your heads and half-crystallized in ice—like diamond shards. Shoko hovered her hand and manipulated the water particles in the air to spread them out across the entire courtyard, and Geto lazily waved his hand to increase the temperature. To make the icicles suddenly pop! and rain down - refracting with the daylight to create a brilliant rainbow above you all. 

As the audience awed and gasped then, Geto had stepped - just a single step - closer to you. His shoulders brushed your own, and you remember the tip of his littlest finger grazing yours—barely there. 

Before Geto had caught the eye of his father - tunneling through him with his vicious stare - and the heir had stepped away. 

Your hands had chased his touch, his warmth then.

But you should’ve known- that should’ve been your first sign.

No matter how many times you promised to write and keep in touch with your two best friends; only one of them responded. Letter after letter to the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace - and all of them went unanswered. 

Though, even years later, you were writing.

You hadn’t lost hope- at least, not until your village elder one day asked whether you weren’t invited to the crowning. Whose crowning? Oh, Prince Geto’s crowning as the Prince Regent, of course. His father had become bedridden, and he was overseeing the nation without being formally crowned yet. 

That was how you found out.

Seven days after Geto’s induction as the regent, the Fire Nation attacked.

It was on a group of peaceful air nomads that were already far and few between. Then came the villages. Then came the towns. Ultimately—you remember hearing whispers that Lord Geto was actually the one that poisoned his father in hopes of seizing the crown. The Fire Nation had no King for now, though it did have a monster. 

In just a few years, life as you knew it was set aflame. 

You can’t remember what exactly you’d said in your last letter to him, but you were sure it was some mangled mess of disbelief and threats. You wondered where that old Geto you knew went, you promised you’d make him pay for what he’s done…be it whether you were arrested and charged for treason or not. You never were. 

You went through a mountain of papers trying to write something coherent. 

And when you finally had it arranged to be sent, you joined the rebels. 

Over the course of years, you trained and toughened. You fought your opponents hard and you fought yourself even harder—you knew that Geto Suguru had eyes everywhere across the land. You calloused, you bled, you fell. There was no time to grow gradually used to the ugliness of battle, you were thrust straight into it and forced to grow wiser than your ages. You knew he must know you’ve joined the building uprisings against him.

And you couldn’t disappoint your old classmate, could you?

They granted ascending titles for every one thousand enemy attacks one diverted. At the age of twenty-seven, you were general of the Waterbending faction. 

And the battle was becoming decisive. 

On one side of the tent was a picture of him from your schooling days - eyes crossed out, and pins and daggers stabbed into him whenever you and your war generals mulled over plans. And at your feet lay the half-melted remains of ice blades you’d been training with.

Sometimes, when the nights were really quiet (as quiet as a battle camp could be), you fashioned sharp streams of water and sent them jetting straight at that picture. Just like you and Geto used to in competition, on a cliffside so long ago. 

Only now, there was no laughter. 

As you’re straightening up, a rough canvas blanket falls off your shoulders—Shoko must have entered some time during the night and put this over you. Of course she would.

Always a healer, no matter what. 

You’re holding the fabric close to you for a few seconds before letting go. A general had to carry only what was needed.

Freshening yourself up with the shallow basin of sun-warmed water at the corner of your tent, you’re donning your sea-blue cloak and walking past the tent flaps. Midday Sun licks at your skin as you step outside. 

The Sun in the Fire Nation always seemed hotter than the one in your land, but right now it was the only thing you could feel. You turn your face up to it in greeting and breathe in deeply.

Your brief moment of respite is suddenly shattered by a call of your name - urgent. The sound of an approaching horse. Alarmed; your eyes shoot open and your hand immediately falls to the bone knife fastened to your waist, dropping only once you recognize the approaching men as one of your own—his blue cloak flutters in the wind. 

As he nears, you register his wide eyes and his pallid face.

A cold sweat seemed to coat his features despite it being scorching out. And once he’s close enough, other warriors stop his horse by the reins- and he all but collapses onto the ground. Crawling on all fours to you—before you’re waving away your soldiers and helping the man stand up yourself.

“Ijichi.” You support him up and firmly tap the side of his sallow cheeks, “Ijichi! Get yourself together, soldier. What happened?” 

As a non-bender, Ijichi was still an integral part of your battle. He was your messenger - and your most trusted one, at that. He was the one that’d successfully delivered your last letter to Geto as your friend, and your first letter to him as Lord: the proposition. You knew Geto wouldn’t lay a hand on Ijichi, no matter what the contents of your letters were. 

He knew how just dear your friends were to you- he knew very well.

“He…he…” Ijichi’s pale lips tremble.

Your pulse races. There was only ever one he that could deign such a reaction- “What happened—” Signalling one of the nearby warriors to hand a flask of water over, you wet his mouth with it. Lightly shaking him. “Speak, soldier-”

“H-he has an answer, general.” Ijichi sputters. Hand weakly gesturing towards his satchel-

Your soldiers tear open that brown hide satchel and present you with the sole thing inside—a smooth, strong parchment tied up in a red velvet ribbon. Though it didn’t have the signature embosses and the gaudy golden envelopes that most communication with the palace did, there was no doubt that it was of imperial origins. The only difference was in the way it seemed to be from the hand of the Regent himself, rather than any old elder…

This was straight from Geto.

And you have to be careful not to display the slight quiver at your fingertips as you open it-

‘My dearest best friend,

It has been accepted. 

Yours, Suguru.’

Though the handwriting itself was far different from what you remembered his to be. But people change. 

“What is it, general?” One of the warriors pipes up from the gathering crowd. The Earthbending masters and other commanders have joined, too. 

And you’re looking straight ahead - at no one and everyone in particular - as you just give a single…simple…nod. 

Lord Geto Suguru has accepted your marriage proposal. 

.

.

.

Riiiiiip—!

You’re clenching your jaw and fisting your hands together as a Fire Nation attendant tears out wax strips smeared down your legs, yanking out the hair underneath. She stares in wonderment for a brief moment, before starting to do the same on your hands.

A scream strangles in your throat.

The journey from the camp to the palace hadn’t been too extensive, and you’d arrived to the roar of trumpets and the wariness of the Fire Nation public. The palace announcement itself had been shaky- but they had to open the doors to you.

They had to.

You were their future Queen, after all.

Just perhaps not what they expected. 

Scrubbing and plucking you raw, honey glazes, and milk baths. They’d taken special offense to that little callous between your thumb and index from holding a sword too much.

They’d attempted to scrub it away and failed. 

Who would’ve thought that years of battle meant that other things took priority over a little waxing and powdering? Apparently the poor, pampered asses of ‘war’ generals in the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace couldn’t stand any evidence of the raging battles that took place outside their numerous gilded walls—perhaps guilt or inconvenience? Possibly the latter, you doubted they had a conscience. And thus, you hadn’t made it two steps inside the sprawling palace before you were whisked away by a cloud of attendants. To be made into an imitation of something you weren’t. 

You’d seen the way they looked at you- as if you dirtied the palace with your mere presence. To your surprise, it seems a majority of the council had long since been taken over by the Zenin elders. 

It seems that Zenin Naoya had made a name for himself as the head advisor. 

That fool couldn’t advise a cow to moo. 

You hadn’t even gotten to see Geto yet - and here you were already being prepared for your wedding. 

If it were up to you, you’d forgo all this levity and carry out the plan here and now. You’d barge past all these plumes of dresses and golden antiques, and—

“Now for your perfuming, Your High- ah, I suppose not yet.” The orange-haired girl smiles to herself as she fogs you with some expensive perfume.

You crinkle your nose and expect the worst - some throat-clogging, saturated scent that makes you gag…but what meets you is the soft undercurrent of the ocean, of jasmine, of memories long-gone and hidden. And your eyes are shooting open in surprise.

“It’s good, hm?” She nods excitedly at your reaction. “His Highness had it concocted specially for today.”

“I didn’t take Geto to be the perfumeering type.”

She laughs softly to herself and you look up in curiosity. “Oh- sorry.” Bowing ever-so-slightly—you’re hurrying to tell her that she didn’t need to. “It’s just that…my lady, you refer to His Highness so intimately yet it seems you have not the faintest idea. Lord Geto is the one that has chosen everything for this wedding; from the perfumes to the flowers, to your dress. Oh! Though such strict…presentation aspects were demands from the council.”

Eyes darting to meet her warm honey-brown ones in surprise.

“He had it all thought out, my lady.” She finishes.

“That…” Your lips part. “I don’t understand.” You turn around and let the silk overcoat glide against your skin like a second one, “How does a monster have time to plan a wedding?”

She gasps and skirts her eyes around—as though merely speaking in here could land her in the dungeons. And you wouldn’t be surprised if it did.

The girl looks at you with pleading eyes- about to say something, but you’re shaking your head reassuringly. “It’s alright. You don’t have to answer.”

With a relieved sigh, she goes back to moisturizing and massaging your aching limbs. 

“But tell me this-” You continue, as the silence prolongs. “-how did so many of the Zenin family find posts in the palace? Last I knew, it was just Naoya’s father that had a position here.”

“As head advisor, yes.” She nods. “The Zenin advisors have only increased in number and notoriety. Before we even knew it, they went from just one in the palace- to now having the entire family in power.”

You hesitate, “Regent Geto’s doing?”

“Not at all.” To your surprise, she shakes her head. “It started when His Highness Geto Suguru was banished as a prince- that was when the family first came to power. And in the three years of his schooling, they’d only increased. When the young prince returned, there was no extracting them. They controlled it all…or so the old palace keepers whisper.” 

Your brows furrow, “Is that so…”

Looking around nervously once more—surely rehashing the palace history wasn’t a crime? “And they also whisper that…” She leans in close, half-covering her mouth conspiratorially. “There’s something strange about Advisor Naobito being the only one to serve His Majesty the King with his breakfasts- but His Highness doesn’t seem to care.”

Shivers down your spine.

“I-I see.”

You do.

You really do.

Nearby, the in-chamber water fountain starts to bubble. The girl gasps and looks between you and it-

That’s what makes you snap out of it - shaking your head and looking up at her with a slight smile. “My apologies. What’s your name?”

She hesitates, likely wondering whether you were going to report her for divulging so much information. But whatever she sees in your face seems to convince her that you’re not like them- you’re not like the Zenins. And she answers, “Kugisaki. Nobara Kugisaki.”

Nobara keeps you company until another flurry of attendants arrive - and soon enough, you find yourself dolled-up in countless layers of red and white silk. Golden patches and embroidery on your sleeves, nimbly designed into visions of mountaintops and fire lilies, the emblem of the Geto family on your back—it bore heavy. You were surprised - you expected more of his name upon you. Your face is painted. You’re perfumed once more. Roses were woven into your hair, and your feet are slipped into golden sandals. 

It hurt that your own tribe’s name wasn’t anywhere on your outfit. 

When you tried reaching for the sea-blue cloak you loved - not as lavish as the Fire Nation’s robes, but your most prized possession - the attendants had shook their heads.

Still, you tucked it into the wide circumference of your sleeves nonetheless. 

As those double doors opened and you were led outside, some of your guards stationed outside - in case of any funny business - froze. Shoko smiled sadly. Ijichi’s jaw dropped—

And you weren’t sure how to feel about everyone reacting to you like so. 

The procession was long and mind-numbing with luxury; it gets to a point before opulence becomes vile. And in the Fire Nation, most weddings were status symbols rather than actual ceremonies of love. For the Prince Regent - the future King as far as anyone knew - most of all. 

You could hear it outside.

The clothes. The music. The swell of a public that cascaded never-ending into the widespread palace courtyard and watched, and the passing of appetizers leafed with gold. Red-hot ribbons and lanterns, the oversized faces of dragons with drunk ministers atop them—throwing flowers and bits of golden paper - cymbals clashed and dancers of all sorts and music made their way into the palace pavilion. Drummers banged. Children squealed at firecrackers. In contrast, you walked quietly shouldered by your warriors and being led down the pathway to your husband.

The place where the binding ceremony would take place was the pavilion overlooking the Fire Nation public. Where the entrance of the palace was. 

At the very top of a hundred stone steps, where the audience convened below. 

The elders had drawn a circle of ash for you to step into.

And so you do.

Perfectly placed on display. 

A hush falls over the crowd. Caught between merriment at the war ending and morbid curiosity and fear, they were chanting in dialects that you didn’t understand - though the stay word or two you’d learned through intelligence cracking made you recognize they were singing about love, about unison.

Today there would be none.

There would be blood.

Lady Tsukumo’s prediction still lingered at the back of your mind. Though you kept your eyes downward and awaited your fate.

Your fate being the tall, red-clad shadow at the edge of your peripheral vision. He stands next to you.

Your breath catches as it hits you that this was Geto- and he seemed even more broad and intimidating than you remembered. The only things you can make out: long, dark hair and arms crossed behind his back. His uniform seemed to glint with something- gold? Though you don’t look up to confirm, you’re training your eyes down at the stone steps—and feeling the man straighten up beside you.

“It’s a lot of people, isn’t it?”

You almost jolt-

Had you been any less disciplined, even an ounce, you would have darted your head upwards and gaped at him in disbelief. Here was Geto Suguru…speaking to you as if nothing ever happened.

How could he do that? How could he speak like that? What gave him the right—? The very same that broke your heart over and over- no, this was a very different Geto from the one you knew on the mountaintop. How could he stand there like this - wearing the same body, the same face, the same voice but slightly deeper, and smile at you like that- 

And pretend like everything was okay?

You speak in an even tone, “It is.”

“I haven’t seen this many people since the graduation.” 

Your chest hurts. “I have.” And for the first time, you’re looking at him squarely. “On the battlefields.”

And the first thought that should hit you was how much he’s changed—how his face now frames his face and cascades down his back like ink, his jaw has set into something sharper, his features have become more refined. Melted away the baby fat to reveal the handsome man within. Years of training and war have left him more chiselled than before- and even through the billowing robes of his traditional attire, you can make out the corded muscle underneath. 

He’s both familiar and not. Familiar in those eyes like polished crystals peering down at you, not in the severity that hid beneath them. Geto wore the traditional red and black sokutai; not just any red, but the red of blood after its long since been spilled, of battlefields. Piqued shoulder pads. High collar. Fine gold tracing. 

Even a section of his hair was bunched-up into a knot atop his head whilst the rest of it flowers, held up with a gold pin. And on his waist was a golden belt studded with…a singular blue sapphire. 

He looked so much happier in your memories. 

The first thought that actually - actually - hits you is that he’s grown into everything he feared he’d become. 

A fiery breeze ruffles Geto’s long hair and makes him look as though a dream. Or a nightmare. 

Despite what you’ve said, his gaze remains unwavering. “I see, general.”

Suddenly, the ash around you erupts in flames, like a phoenix—and the marriage rites commence. 

.

.

.

You meant it when you said that Fire Nation weddings were known more for their status than their emotion. 

Because the actual rites were stiff and sped-through; as though they were hurrying through the sole sentimental part of the wedding in haste to proclaim the two of you married. Once the circle of ash had been set alight, the Royal Fire Sage had appeared behind you two and boomed out invitations to the spirits and ancestors. 

And then you’d been made to recite your vows to one another for the entire courtyard to hear. To make it known - to someone else if not the two of you - that you would have to cherish one another, to understand one another, and to…love one another.

Through good times and bad.

And to bring an heir. 

As you repeated after him, you wondered just how much of it could have applied before.

And as the two of you finished, you were handed a porcelain sake bowl that looked dipped in gold. As though a wabi-sabi artwork, but every bit of it had been shattered. You both took three sips each of the rich, translucent liquid—promising unity.

Your hands tightened on the bowl.

And then you placed your offerings of evergreen branches as newlyweds, down on the sacred circle of ash, then clapped twice and bowed. 

To the public.

The roaring cheers were deafening.

You closed your eyes tightly against the noise. 

There was a reception afterwards, of course, and it was just as disgustingly lavish as you thought it would be; though as the married couple, there was rarely any time for you to eat or drink. You couldn’t indulge when there were ministers and master benders and government officials begging for your attention—most of all, you couldn’t kill when you had a plan. 

But oh- did you think of bypassing that plan and going in for the strike when Zenin Naoya had come sneering to your raised table. Wishing the newlyweds a long and prosperous life together.

He spat it out like venom.

Even more so when a new attendant had wished ‘the future King and Queen’ a long and happy life together. 

Other big, big names came and went. However Geto’s father wasn’t in a befitting state to make a public appearance, and you’d watched Geto’s reaction closely as this was whispered to him by one of the advisors. 

He was as still as a stone statue. 

But you could forgive the too-tight embraces from families attempting to woo their way into the good graces of the future monarchy, and the ministers that sloshed their sake on you. You could forgive the generals that eyed you suspiciously, and the young aristocrats that tugged on their guardians’ robes and asked which nation you were from…and whether that was allowed. You could forgive it all. You weren’t wearing your nation’s colors—and you had to smile as your soldiers bowed to you as per your royal title. 

You never let them bow to you when you were their general. Just general. 

You could forgive it all, because your plan started only after the wedding reception.

When the curtains were drawn, and alcohol suffused into the air. When you were beckoned by the team of attendants that readied you for the wedding, and escorted away into the privacy of the royal baths.

You wondered if it was just you who felt like some in the reception were leering like they already knew…

Readied, once more.

By the time you’re donning a sheer red robe, and guided to Geto’s sprawling princely chambers, he’s already there sitting at the edge of the bed. Back turned to you.

His armor removed and attire half-off - draping over one broad shoulder. And the other….was a pale body underneath the luminous moonlight filtering in—rippled with muscles and slightly freckled. Though they looked faded, as if he’d gained them once a long time ago and had rarely been out in the Sun since. 

You could guess they were from Mount Inferno.

Tonight was to be your consummation, and you knew they’d be checking for evidence in the morning. 

You walk up to the Fire Lord. 

Soundless steps.

And yet, he still turns. His long, jet-black hair falls off of one shoulder and tumbles down his back like a waterfall—it’s glossy and reaches down past his waist. There’s a slight dampness to it, and you wonder whether he’d been scrubbed and perfumed down to the bone, too. You don’t know why but you mourn the way his hair covers most of his toned back.

Quickly, however, you snap yourself out of such nonsense.

You gulp and take a step closer. “I have arrived as the attendants have directed me-”

“Must we be so formal with one another?” He speaks. Geto’s tone is deeper than it was on the mountain, with a polished edge to it that spoke of years of lessons—rigorous. More mature. You think back to your first impression of him- no, it wasn’t just padded cushions and perfume after all, huh? “We’re married now, y’know.”

You’re looking up and realize there’s a smile playing at his lips. 

“We are.” And your voice, too, sounds so much more mature than back then. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not strangers-”

“But we’re not.”

“We are.”

There’s a frosty silence that stretches between you two, and you’re starting to think it might last until sunrise- but then Geto puts his face in his hands and sighs. Heavy and unbroken. “At least…at least just for tonight…” Voice something so small—something that reminds you of the Geto from nine years ago. “Could we not be strangers?”

You don’t answer.

But as he stares at you - piercing through your very being - your hands move as if hypnotized to the sash of your robe. And his eyes grow murky- they grow dark—following you like a predator follows its prey. 

Though which one of you was the predator, it’s hard to say. 

With a single flick of your fingers, your robe is dropping off of you.

And if you thought his gaze was smoldering before, they’re practically glazed and blackened now. In almost a trance, he keeps his eyes on you and reaches his hand outwards- and murmurs in a low timbre. “Come to me.”

“Is that an order as King?”

“We both know I have no power as King.”

A plea. 

You step. Silently. 

And soon enough, you’re standing in front of Geto Suguru - in-between his manspread thighs. He gazed upon you, and you gaze upon him. It’s now that you’re noticing his outer layers had been stripped through, and the only thing that he’s donning now were baggy white trousers doing little to hide the muscles underneath, and a hitoe: it was a dark, draped robe that almost looked like a yukata. Loose and flowy.

Shifting aside to reveal a puffy pink nipple on his left side. 

Then before you know it- you’re both pushing him back onto the bed by his shoulders—and crashing your lips into his.

And you’re not sure what you’re expecting- fuck, you’re not sure how long you’ve agonized over this very moment, but Geto’s kissing you and you’re kissing him. And it’s everything you’ve imagined in all your most innocent girlhood dreams. 

He tastes of jasmine and crisp summer air - the curtains behind you flutter with a breath of cool air, and you’re gasping. It’s then that Geto takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Clasping the back of your head, he angles it to one side and lets his delicious tongue inside. Exploring your mouth for a few seconds before fishing it back out n’ then leaning even closer to suck on your tongue. The moment he tastes you, he groans. “Please…”

And you think - for a brief, stupid moment - that you’ve wanted nothing more.

But Geto’s canines nip at your lower lip, and reality’s hitting you all at once. All at once. 

You’re breaking the kiss with a sickeningly sweet pop! and pushing him down by his shoulders. Geto’s scorching hot pants fan your face, his long hair tickles your neck. Perhaps too afraid to look him in the eyes- to see what expression he has on now, you’re shuffling down his body. Pawing between his legs. 

But just before your knees can hit the floor—an arm reaches out and stops you.

Grabbing ahold of your own, he’s pulling you up. 

In split-seconds, you’re finding yourself back on the bed - this time with the positions flipped. You have your body rested against a mattress that feels like a thousand clouds. You have your cunt throbbing wildly as Geto beckons you to stay and kneels down on the bedside. 

Like he’s praying.

Though the only plea he whispers is between your naked legs.

Getting swallowed up almost instantly in the cute, slobbering kiss he’s pressing against your plump, puckered lips. Just so ready for him.

Geto’s dark brows contort as your legs jerk open a bit further and your cunt’s sloshin’ out. 

Lascivious ribbons of creamy slick empty out of you n’ end up dripping down his chin - it glistens underneath the cool, blueish moonlight - and you’re watching as he sticks the very tip of his tongue out to taste. You see those clouded amethyst eyes start to grow even murkier, heavy and half-lidded. He looks up at you in half-shock as the syrupy taste of your cunt enters his mouth, and the infamous Fire Lord can’t help but moan—

“Honey, I want to taste you for eternity.”

“You’re not s…oh.” Eyes clenching shut. Breath catching in your chest. Whatever you were about to say- Geto’s lappin’ the words right out of you.

With the slightest inch of his tongue squeezes in- hot and pulsing between your folds. The ridged texture of his tastebuds glue to your most sensitive parts—polishing off every ounce of the gloss that coated between your pussylips. And once he’s downed it all like the sweetest of mead, Geto purses his pink lips and spits.

A stream of glittering saliva that hits you. 

You flinch-

“Too cold?” Geto’s voice just seems so loud in your eardrums. Low and so much more ruined than you remember it- it makes you blink up at him. And whatever he’s seeing in your expression, it seems to answer his question. 

Because then he’s running a thumb down the wad of spit plastered to your cunt. Tap-tap-tapping. 

And before you know it, you’re feeling the frigid, exposed parts of your pussy turn into something sizzling.

Fuck.

Bubblin’ over and fizzing.

He was using his powers to…your brows shoot up to your hairline. 

You’re clamoring onto your elbows. You’re quaking your thighs shut- and actually getting them shoved even further apart—by both of Geto’s bulky shoulders lodging himself even further between them. His sticky, hot breaths were practically basking your cunt - and soon enough Geto’s nose-deep between them and slobberin’. “Sh-shit, now that’s unfair…”

Prolonged, open-mouthed kisses. From the tender edges of your pussylips to fishing his tongue between them- swirling inside your wet hole.

Now that he’d heated up the spittle touching your cunt, it was Geto’s time to smear it all over using his mouth and pretty face. “Mmm, not too bad, huh?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” You scoff. Raking your fingers through his raven locks.

“Ahead of myself? No, no…” Geto murmurs- and he’s purposefully doing it so the vibrations shot up your spine and made you arch into him. The crown of his tastebuds sloshed between your folds and gave you such luxurious licks prodding inwards. Flattened top. Teasing edge of his tongue. Then Geto reaches his right hand up and swats the glistening top of your cunt. Soon enough, you’re feeling the slippery layers of his saliva grow even hotter. “You need to know your place, my little Waterbender.”

“That’s general to you.” You’re tugging on a fistful of his hair. Still damp; though by now it was less with water, and more with sweat. 

“General…” Geto repeats. Another swat- controlling and ebbing the heat in a way that made fogginess coil around your brain. “And do you realize that you’re in enemy territory, general? My best friend?”

“I- am aware.” Gritting out—more so because you couldn’t handle the slight whimper that threatens to crackle on the edge of your tone. 

You’re dragging an even less merciful handful of his hair in retaliation- dragging and dragging until his lips almost pop off of your cunt. He’s grabbing onto you with a single hand groped underneath your ass, and such a desperate husky noise. 

To his credit, you just didn’t expect Geto to moan.

But then again, he didn’t expect you to put a blade to his throat, either. 

Geto’s purple eyes snap wide open at the ice-cold feeling- and the air prickles with the power of bending. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you’d used the dampness of his lengthy hair - the water particles, the ravenous sweat - and melded it into a steel-hard dagger that pricked at his pale throat. Just a single gulp of his Adam’s apple leaves Geto Suguru nicked.

And crimson beads down to his robe—matching. Wedding colors.

‘A single life will be lost on your wedding night at your hand Before Dawn has defeated darkness, darkness shall be defeated within. And red shall stain the floors of a royal suite.’

It would take just a single flick- just a single flick of your wrist to end the Fire Prince’s life right here and right now. To end this all. But you take your time to admire him…at least before the life drains out of his eyes.

That second of eye contact lasts longer than lifetimes- longer than an eternity together. Just the two of you in the royal suite. Geto’s mouth on your cunt, and your dagger at his neck—and to your surprise, he doesn’t look like he’d be anywhere else. 

In fact- to your offense, he flickers his eyes down to the callous that was peaking out in the web between your dominant thumb and your index. And slowly - almost snake-like - Geto’s inching his face closer and pressing a soft kiss—right as you were holding the dagger.

Your breath hitches- it’s silent. It’s oh-so-silent.

And Geto’s darting his eyes up at the sound of it, cautiously pulling away. But not to any sort of mortal safety, of course, because when has Geto Suguru ever followed your expectations?

He’s instead maneuvering his face- and unsure where he was going, you’re following his actions with that deadly blade of yours. But the Fire Lord doesn’t run. He doesn’t beg. He doesn’t change. He merely tips his head ever-so-slightly at an angle, then sidles his hot face between your clammy thighs to…to make out with your cunt.

Make out.

Not just lapping and lickin’ like he’d been doing before. 

Your mouth falls open, “Oh.”

Not just prodding away between your pussylips with the tip of his tongue.

“O-oh, fuck.”

He’s properly gaping his mouth open and massaging the forefront of your cunt with his muscle. Again and again. The thick, flattened plane of him rests on top of your pussylips n’ drags up and down, back and forth, teasing you mindless before swabbin’ his wet inches inside. 

Geto’s practically glued to you- the tiptop of his tongue rovering for every sweet spot inside. Long, drunken thrusts. And with every single one, you’re reaching your arched hips upwards. “Fuck- fuck—” 

The silvery tip of your dagger digs against his skin, and the prince flutters his eyes open all feline-like.

Lightning shoots through your body as you take in the utterly dazed sight of him. “You realize that I can- hah, that I can just kill you now, right?”

“I’m aware.” Languidly, he’s blinking his eyes open properly. Your pussy just tasted so good lacquering his tongue like this; in such a warm…wet layer of your sap. And the only thing the fearsome Firebender can do right now is tip his head back and let those juices drain to the back of his throat. “And it’s only makin’ me harder.”

“This?” Pressing the blade even harder. “This.”

In response he can only nod.

Nod and nod and nudge your pulsing clit with his nose. 

Your jaw’s just dropping. Was he making fun of you…?

“Fuck- I-I think I get it now.” You’re blubbering, hand tremoring. “You really are a monster-”

“I am.” Though you can’t decipher his tone of voice. Merely feeling the way Geto presses a few more noisy kisses on your cunt, before he’s raising his hand and- 

You shut your eyes.

You’re hearing the solid smack! on those swollen, needy lips before you feel it. Hot. And just as soon as the searing sting makes its way through your thrumming vessels, Geto’s attached his mouth to your cunt once more and is tunneling his tongue crazily into your pretty hole. Just so wet n’ needy for him that you’re sucking him up after every hackhammerin’ thrust. Squeezes him closer. 

He moans- fucking moans as he cuts himself off from breathing. He doesn’t care if he suffocates - as long as it’s between those tremblin’ legs of yours.

Though it’d be a damn cold day in hell before you ever let him beat you to your mission objective. 

So you’re pulling back your deadly dagger, and you’re catching the slight surprise flickering in Geto’s eyes at the act. Quickly replaced by something more knowing, something…far darker and unreadable when that blade finds itself positioned back on his beautiful throat.

The vertical line of it stands out starkly. A thin line of crimson draws itself on the edge.

You’re somehow clenching through gritted teeth, “I…need to kill you—for the good of this world.”

He keeps perfect, ruinous eye-contact with you as he leans his pretty face forwards. He keeps eye-contact with you as he raises his hand and spanks your pussy once more.

“So do it.”

Hot sparks explode behind your eyes.

And the imprint of all five of Suguru’s doughy fingertips seem to emblazon themselves on your cunt- you’re realizing then that he’s using his powers again. He’s leaving a mark on your pussy…for however long he may be alive. For however long you may let him stay alive.

And he’s eating you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have.

The sweetest of sultry desserts latched onto his mouth - Geto ties your legs tighter around his head. Then he’s mouthing aside your soaked pussylips to stick his tongue in and out, in and out, in and out. He’s pinpointing every hidden spot inside you with his dexterous tongue- quirking it juuuuust right to one side and hittin’ your g-spot ruthlessly. 

“I am going to—” Though the words feel weak, even on your lips. “I-I am going to-”

“So fucking do it.” He’s a man on death row. He’s a man starved- your dagger moves even further upwards and Geto’s sharp white canines make an appearance as he hisses. “Do it…”

“I-”

“I dare you.”

And for all the world, you might have possessed the steadiest arm in all of the land. But the way he’s makin’ your eyes roll to the back of your head - just the winding, zig-zagging slashes of his tongue squeeeeezing into your pussy - would be enough to make anyone tremble. Even during their life’s mission. “I…sh-shit.” Bucking your traitorous hips upwards - so hard that it leaves a smear of glittering slick from his upper lip n’ to the tip of his nose.

Slash after slash.

Probe after probe.

He’s just so fatal with his tastebuds - sizzling against your velvety inner walls. And you wondered whether that was just you or his powers…

Before another hot smack! resounds against the sprawling corners of the royal suite. And Geto’s taking your star-struck moment to swirl the ends of two fingers inside, scissorin’ and bullying all their slender inches. 

They were the hands of the strongest Firebender of today. 

And they were smearing apart your snug channel. Squelching. Smushing themselves inside- the sheer length of them…oh, it felt like they were about to go on for daaaaays. And you’re rutting up into his vicious thrusts with a whimper, “P-please…”

“Please, do it if you must.” He breathes out scalding pants. Nostrils flared. Skin red. You’re left utterly shocked at his admission- you look up into his eyes and they’re crystal clear. “If it shall bring you peace- do it.”

Gaping, “Wh-what do you mean me…”

But he’s only honing his slick-glossed, slithering digits. And he’s such a quick learner, too, he’s locating your g-spot with only a few more thorough thrusts—his favorite target. That pulsing area writhes underneath his touch- and you know where he is exactly when the heat spreads from Geto’s fingertips. 

Leaving you ruined both inside and out.

Leaving him grinning around the gummy nub of your click. Sucking.

“If that is to be your wedding gift-” The mound of his voicebox pushes deeper against your blade, a hairsbreadth away from something irreversible. “-then take it-”

“Sh-shiiiiit—” Tearing up.

“If that is what you’ve been dreaming of all this time-” He continues, voice growing more and more guttural by the second. Geto’s practically gulping your pussy into him, clinging onto him. Quivering. “If revenge is the only thing th-that’s let me cross your mind…if only for the briefest second, then I shall thank it.” 

Streaming down your cheeks now. “Su—fuck.” You could feel the twisting and turning at the pit of your stomach as you grew ever-closer. 

He continues. “If it is what my wife desires…then so be it.” Was he fucking drunk? Was he talking out of…of your pussy? There was a slurring edge to Geto’s words, toppling over one another. And those beautiful amethyst eyes of his struggle to remain open - blinking lazily - as he laps n’ keeps lapping at your leaking pussy. Those juices smearing all over his jaw. “Kill me.”

Then down to the column of his throat.

Then collecting on your trembling blade.

Geto’s boring straight into your eyes as he utters. “But until then, m’gonna keep making you cum over and over again.” Quirking the curvaceous tips of his fingers to ram straight into your g-spot- he makes you shatter. “For as long as I have left to live, m’gonna make you the happiest woman on Earth.”

“That’s just unfair-” You’re damn-near sobbing. One of your hands claws through his night-black hair, and the other uses the flattened edge of the dagger to let you see his face better. “That’s just really, really unfair…”

“I was never a fair man.”

Then you’re being fucked through your waves of bliss like never before- those looooong, arching cresendos of dopamine through your body. Those white-hot stars. The edges of your vision blurring. 

And the only thing your muddled mind can think to do is plant your feet flat on the mattress and arch- and press your drippin’ cunt closer to his face. As Geto Suguru suckles on your clit, he traps it between his teeth and draaags it out far enough that you yelp. 

All the while, his fingers were slammin’ straight into your g-spot. Over and over.

Rubbing the softened tips of it to that pulsing spot—he’s elongating your orgasm like never before. He’s making you feel those carnal sensations in eeeeevery single ridge and crevice inside your cunt, three of his fingers stuffing you full by now. “Never was an understanding man.” He gasps through French kisses on your clit - every time he rolled his tongue over it, you were mewling. “Never was a kind man- hngh. Never was a good man.”

Smack! 

It resounds even louder than the last few, the feeling of his heated-up fingers spanking your cunt. 

And you swear you’re sent straight over the edge for a second time—

“I can only promise to be the damn best husband for as long as I have.”

It’s with this notion in mind that you’re dragged through your intense peaks, and once you’re finally coming back to - it’s to the sound of Geto pulling away from your spent pussy with a loud slurp! He follows the stray wires of sap that still connect him to you- pressing a final few kisses before finally wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Then looking you deep in your eyes as he then licks off the glowy sheen that covered his skin. 

This was what did it for you.

You’re raising your stone-cold blade high—high, higher, and even higher then. Until it was well above his head, and then—

Slashing it down to decimate his outer robe. 

Even Geto himself looks shocked at this- before you’re grabbing ahold of him by the shoulders and dragging him up onto the bed. It dips with a groan at the weight of you both, its ancient springs equally as shocked, and you don’t care if you’re causing a commotion when you pull him by a lock of his hair till your back rests against a vast metal headrest. Against your skin, you could feel the twists and twirls of some intricate wooden carving - but the only thing you could focus on right now was him.

Him and the aching, throbbing erection he was sporting in his loose trousers. 

The fabric paper-thin. The outline of his cock obvious.

He was so looooong and deliciously curved to the right, hard enough that you could spot at least one thick vein prodding down the side of him. Precum had seeped from the top of his blushin’ red crown and darkened a patch in his trousers; it sticks slightly to his skin as Geto rests a hand on the hemline and teases taking it off.

“Do I need to bend a dagger for that, too?” You quirk a brow.

“Hah…” Geto huffs out a laugh, “No need to exert yourself, my little Waterbender- or more like…my wife.”

Ah, his wife.

His wife.

His wife.

And then your…husband does the honor of stripping down his only remaining piece of clothing.

And the first thing you notice is that he’s even bigger than what your imagination had concocted. Red-hot and throbbing.

A slight spattering of black curls dust his base, and partway up his navel. It glistens with beads of precum that just refused to stop streaming from the tip of Geto’s cock - hard. So painfully hard. 

Fucking painful.

Even contact with the frigid air seemed to make him quiver, n’ his cock was pulsing so hard that you could physically count it from where you were seated. Eyes wide and gaping - you don’t feel the slightest bit abashed about staring, and Geto doesn’t seem the slightest bit self-conscious. He’s got a gorgeous cock, and he knows it. 

It feels so hot as he places the ruddied tip straight on top of your raw cunt and presses down. Not even easing inside- just smushing your folds down so that you’re getting a good feel of him.

And you do, of course.

You’re grabbing Geto by each one of his luscious deltoids and digging your nails into the firm muscle. Crashing your lips into his. Hissing, “I-inside.”

Making his velvety, sap-covered tip squeeze between your pussylips. He’s entering you with a buck and a cracked groan at the back of his throat—“I already am, general.” Just a single inch inside and he sounds breathy. Just a single inch inside and his head drops forwards- a curtain of inky black hair falling around you like a veil to the world. 

You’re reaching upwards and taking out his signature golden hair pin. Even more of it.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this…vulnerable. 

And then the Fire Lord’s throwing your legs over his shoulders and bending you flexibly down in half, hands finding purchase upon either side of your waist n’ slamming his hips into you like a madman. “And I’m have a d-damn good time fucking my wife.”

Geto’s reeling his lower half back- all the way until his ruby-red tip is purposefully stretching your hole out. Feeling you - just feeling you.

Before giving you a thorough thrust from the crown of his cockhead and down to his thick base. So thick. Your mouth’s falling open into a similar ‘oh’ that your pussy’s being expanded into. 

Then repeating.

And repeating.

“Fuck, she’s so wet. Is that because you’re the- hah, land’s greatest Waterbending master-”

“Shut up.”

“And if I refuse?” There’s that hint of mischief in his voice you recognized from your past. “And if I claim that this pussy actually lov- liked this mouth of mine not too, mmm, long ago?” Through a clenched grin and furrowed brows, he somehow manages out. “So what do you have to say about that, general?”  

Your maw keeps dropping open the more and more of his jagged thrusts he’s placing. “W-weren’t you the one who said he’d be happy to- even hngh—die by my blade?”

“I was. I am.” He replies - and it’s so earnest that you don’t have anything more to say to him. Suddenly, Geto’s giving you a right slam! of his cocktip- colliding against what feels like the very back of your throat. “And I stand by- ngh, every word I said.”

“Th-then…”

Before you’re able to sputter out anything more, he’s reaching his right hand down. Snaking his long fingers between those plump pussylips of yours - Geto plaps! the flattened edge of his thumb down on top of your clit. Then starts rolling n’ rolling over it in time with his solid thrusts. And just as every passing second made you keen out more…it also made you more honest. 

And he could tell.

Geto’s feline smile presses on top of your forehead: a chaste kiss. One he’s repeating on your temples, your nose, either side of your cheeks, your chin, and finally your lips.

Humming against them, “But the reason I said that was because I’m in love with you.” And he says it so easily. Shock courses through your body- or perhaps that was just the feeling of him slammin’ into your g-spot. You get the distinct feeling that Geto had known where it’d be all this time - already having mapped you out with his roving fingers - and that he’d been holding out until this exact moment. “But why aren’t you completing your mission, yet?”

Your lips tremble- “I…”

“Let me make it clearer for you.” Gravelling tone pitching just a bit—just as he punishes out another slam! of his fingertips against your stuffed pussy. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?” He tosses his head with an attractive smile, “Is it because it feels too good? Be honest.”

Well…You’re scoffing, “You wish-”

He grins an irresistible grin before scorching his fingertips against your swollen cunt once more. Those Firebending powers of his certainly weren’t at full capacity - they weren’t even being used at a fraction of it. 

And yet, it still made itself known in how even the tiniest bit of contact made heat sprint through every atom, every axiom of your being.

And you can only clench your hand around Geto’s damp hair, feeling the glide of those silken locks through your fingers. It makes the man hoverin’ above you on the bed wince—letting out a throaty noise of ecstasy as you’re handling him so meanly. He fucking loved it. 

He’s dreamt of this for too fucking long.

Noticing this, you’re wrenching him back by his hair and spitting straight into his pretty mouth. Those pouty lips of his enclose immediately ‘round the sweet glob of spit you’re letting out - and he’s trying to kiss you almost immediately. “Mmmm…” Geto’s long lashes bat shut. At the very split-second that it had landed, you swore you could’ve felt his bashin’ cockhead swell even bigger. “Thank you, my wife.” 

Eyes opening once more- you see there’s such a carnal glint in them that you can’t explain.

“But don’t think that’s gonna make me forget.” And suddenly, you’re understanding just why his name was whispered far and wide. Why not a soul in his palace seem to speak a word against him. For fear, or…Yet another swat. “Why haven’t you killed me yet, my little Waterbender?” 

It was honestly feeling more like an interrogation at this point. 

Mockingly, Geto cocks his head to the side and bears you his throat.

Perfectly unharmed and unscarred. The thin line where your blade lay earlier was practically invisible. 

“C’mon…let me make this even clearer for you.” He goads, “Here’s your target. Here’s your enemy—kill me, my wife. Let’s see if you can, general.” Something almost maniacal in his grin, Geto’s dashing his dark hair backwards like a mane and pressing his forehead to yours. “Aren’t you the greatest Waterbender alive? You’re here because you’re bound by duty, are you not? Then why don’t you?”

A few harder thrusts. 

Eyes wide. Tone crazed. “Why don’t you—?”

Why don’t you? Any other soul would stop themselves out of fear- perhaps out of proximity. 

Good thing that you weren’t just any old soul.

And so you’re summoning that blade once more in a way that feels almost subconscious- your mind wasn’t really concentrated on the weapon. How could it be? When Geto’s plummeting cockhead was only growing speedier and speedier by the second - his round, reddened tip swirling about your insides and pinpointing every spot with his white precum. They were just the sloppiest strikes. 

Again and again.

Upturning even the smallest slick orifices and bruising his circumference into your spongiest depths. Your cervix stung with the imprint of him. 

Absolutely tortuous despite your training.

Which might be why the handle of your blade’s already half-melted; water dripping down your hand by the time you’re raising it to Geto’s pretty throat once more. “I…I am bound by my duty.” You breathe.

The enemy Lord’s grin widens as he registers your words. So you were finally taking the bait…

He looks down at the misshapen, gnarled excuse of a blade pushed to his throat—and notices the droplets of water cascading down your arm. And without a single warning, he’s craning his neck down - avoiding the sharp edge of the weapon - to liiiiiiick up those ice-cold droplets on your skin. It feels almost teasing looking at his tongue like this, already knowing what it’s done to you once. 

Murmuring almost awe-struck, “I am the general of the rebellion’s Waterbending faction and I am here to kill you.”

“Yes—” He whispers. Pitch raising. Octaves higher. “Yes.” There’s a thundering squelch! between your legs as he then grips onto your clit with torrid fingers. 

Your blade raises- ready to strike. “Geto Suguru, you are hereby to be assassinated at the hands of the new age. An act of revolution.”

“Yes—”

“An act of peace.”

“Fuck- yes.” Brows knitting once you clench. 

“An act of…love.” Impatiently, Geto then turns to smack! the glossy top of your clit. To pinch it. And he does it with heat-coated fingers that make you see stars. 

He stares at you, and you can’t look away. “So do it.” Almost gruffing the words out at you. And for how long he’s been saying these words to you, it’s just now hitting you at full force that this was a challenge. And how cocksure he was…“So kill me if you can bear to do it.”

For your nation, for others, you have to do this—you have to. Your hand trembles on the handle of the squat dagger. It feels small and almost…childish in your hands. But the longer the pause stretches between you two, the more it melts - until your weapon is nothing in your hands at all.

It was futile and you always knew it was. He did, too. 

This was never going to happen.

Especially not when he was fucking you so incredibly—