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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

ㅤㅤㅤ    ㅤ𓂃  IMAGINES .ᐟ.ᐟ

get(o) cucked ! 𓂃 satoru fucking you in front of his best friend after suguru gets dumped

ㅤㅤㅤ     ㅤ𓂃  SHORT FICS .ᐟ.ᐟ

caught red-handed 𓂃 as an assassin, you know exactly which targets are worth your time and which ones are better left for someone less capable. killing gojo satoru should be easy work, but when you find yourself entangled in his sheets, even you have to wonder whether your own confidence is about to get you killed

conventionally yours 𓂃 when your childhood best friend, gojo satoru signs you both up for a couple event to win a hatsune miku figurine, you brace yourself to fake it, win the prize, and never speak of it again. unfortunately, neither of you account for the gameshow digging up past feelings and twisting your friendship into something a little more intimate

ㅤㅤ    ㅤㅤ𓂃  LONG FICS .ᐟ.ᐟ

the art of getting him 37k+ 𓂃 geto suguru is everyone’s first crush. having a crush on him is as hopeless as it is inevitable though your friends quickly disagree that the awe-struck, mouth gaping expression is a strictly you thing, and that he isn't as much of a campus celebrity as you believe he is. regardless, you're determined to put your inability to hold a conversation with him in the past. the solution is simple, you seek out his best friend. if geto suguru is everyone’s first crush (again, a completely objective statement), then gojo satoru is everyone’s first heartbreak.

kiss me when you swing by 55k+ 𓂃 between a smug academic rival, a masked hero you cannot stop thinking about, and a symbiote threat getting closer by the day, your life is quickly becoming unmanageable. gojo satoru keeps ruining your peace, spiderman keeps stealing your heart, and neither of them seems willing to tell you the truth. as secrets pile up and the city tips further into danger, you begin to realise the person breaking your heart and the one trying to save it may not be two different people at all.

a lesson on love 30k+ 𓂃 with your love life in ruins, the last thing you want to do is think about romance. unfortunately, between passive-aggressive notes and an infuriating neighbour named 4B who won’t leave you alone, love might not be done with you just yet

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ  𓂃 MISCELLANEOUS .ᐟ.ᐟ

how to lose a girl in 10 days 𓂃 in which gojo satoru gets bullied onto hinge for being a virgin, girlfriend-less freak and quickly discovers he only has game when he catfishes as "toru", a humble, matcha-loving, wired earphone-wearing, suspiciously faceless man. unfortunately, his plans of being a normal boyfriend to a normal girlfriend shatters when he matches with you, a certified maneater who is determined to unmask his hinge persona by whatever means possible aka a lighthearted jjk smau !!

Names followed, spoken with calm authority. Those chosen stepped forward, their relief restrained but evident. Others remained behind, their hopes quietly dissolving as the list continued.

When Gojo’s name was called, he stepped forward without hesitation. “Saouta Shirogane.”

He joined the selected few, standing in composed silence as the final names were announced. Once the selection concluded, the rest were dismissed, leaving only those deemed worthy to remain upon the grounds.

The emperor addressed them briefly, speaking of discipline and continued trials. Yet even as he spoke, his attention did not remain equally divided.

It returned, once again, to Gojo. “Saouta Shirogane,” he called.

Gojo stepped forward, bowing his head. “Your Majesty.”

The emperor descended from the platform, stopping a short distance before him. His gaze was sharp, thoughtful, as though measuring something beyond what had already been seen.

“You conducted yourself with restraint,” he said. “That alone sets you apart.”

Gojo remained still. “I acted as I deemed appropriate, Sire.”

The emperor’s eyes lingered briefly on his face, on the faintly concealed features that did not quite belong to a man of ordinary birth. “You are not as simple as you appear,” he said, not unkindly.

A quiet pause followed before he continued. “There is a duty I would entrust to you, one that requires both discretion and unwavering capability.”

Gojo inclined his head. “I am at Your Majesty’s command.”

The emperor turned slightly, gesturing toward the distant palace that rose beyond the training grounds. “You shall not train with the others. Instead, you will serve within the inner court,” he said. “Your task is singular. You are to ensure the safety of my daughter, the Lady of this court.”

A faint shift passed among the nearby knights, though none spoke aloud. “The princess is not to be left unguarded,” the emperor continued. “Her protection shall be your responsibility, and yours alone.”

Gojo bowed more deeply, acknowledging the weight of the command. “I understand, Your Majesty. I shall not fail in this duty.”

For a moment, the emperor regarded him in silence. Then, as though arriving at a final decision, he spoke once more.

“A man assigned to such a role must not only serve, but embody the authority of that duty,” he said. “You shall not be known merely as another knight.”

Gojo remained still, listening. “You will bear a title,” the emperor continued, his voice steady. “One that reflects both your station and the manner in which you carry yourself.”

A brief pause followed, as if the name itself had already been decided long before this moment.

“From this day forth..”the emperor declared, “you shall be known as—“

“—the Ivory Sovereign.”

“What the fuck!? What!?” You jump up and fall, unused to the lanky ass legs that are currently under you, ones that cannot be yours – pale and muscular and so goddamn long. You’re way too tall, so tall you’d hit your head in your fucking dorm, looking down at everything in shock, stumbling into a dresser.

Even your voice is deep and – sexy!? You rush over to this fancy dresser, gasping as you see a perfect face in a mirror – a man’s face, with beautiful blue eyes and cheekbones to fucking die for. You smack at that face as if reality will hit – seeing chest muscles where your titties should be, blushing in his pale skin as you see that bulge in the mirror.

You're inside the body of the hottest man you’ve ever seen in some fancy ass home you could never afford!

“It has to be some dream,” you curse and rush out, running down spiral stairs – how big is this man’s house?! It’s a whole fucking confusing mansion, you’re rushing through everything, trying to find some hint of who he could be – of what weird ass fever dream you’re having, when the door knocks. “One minute!”

You’re rushing over now, opening it and seeing a dark haired man look at your body, rolling his eyes. “Put on some clothes, Satoru. We have training.”

“Training?” He raises a brow at you, and you struggle to act normal, searching your brain for anything. “Training…”

“Yeah, Satoru – training. Just because you’re perfect at everything doesn’t mean me and Shoko don’t need more practice. We have to set a good example if we wanna teach some day.”

“Teach. Examples…”

The man blinks his amethyst eyes, looking right at you now, too close, so close you fucking blush again. “What’s wrong with you, Satoru?”

Satoru – who was Satoru?

*****

Satoru was exhausted as he trained his fucking ass off, entirely exhausted – he wanted a break, he wanted a vacation, he didn’t want to fight anymore curses, or see anymore of his old classmates die. He didn’t want to take over the Gojo family name, and he sure the fuck didn’t look forward to the inevitable arranged marriage the elders were about to place on him.

Standing in his shower since he was covered in grime from fucking curses exploding, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he was not born a Gojo at all – what would it be like if instead, he had been someone normal? If he was just a normal guy at college, and not training to teach the newbies at Jujutsu high?

If he were a normal twenty two year old man who wasn’t about to have to become the clan leader, and take on all this goddamn responsibility he didn’t ask for? Sure, Satoru loved to be the strongest – but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the constant effort, the secrets, the lies they told – the way everything fell on him and his friends, all the expectations making him drown.

He was a Gojo – they were the strongest, and that’s all there was to it. Day in, day out, everything was simple. KIll everything bad, save everyone he could, but goddamit if he wasn’t exhausted, if he didn’t just want to go be a normal guy – maybe go study physics, study theories of the universe he wishes even he could know more about.

Go look at the stars with a pretty girl and laugh, a girl he chose.

Yet that doesn’t appear to be anything he will get – no, he was born a Gojo, and that was that. Even falling asleep in his silk sheets that night, he could not stop his mind from racing, frowning as thoughts raced through his mind at a rampant pace.

How could Satoru Gojo ever live a normal life?

Well, he wondered what normal meant that next morning when he felt hungover – something he never, ever was. Satoru did not drink, it dulled his senses too much, but every now and then he had gone out with Suguru and Shoko, Nanami throwing back whiskey like it was nothing, but he could barely hold one without getting sick.

And does he feel sick – and he feels sad, more sad than before, like emotional in a way he can’t remember being. He reached out as he felt tears burning his eyes – that doesn’t happen, either. Satoru trained himself not to cry from a young age, but now he’s doing just that, his fingers touching unfamiliar cheeks that were wet with tears he hadn't shed in years.

Unfamiliar.

He looks at this shitty little bed then and screams, plopping out of it – his arms fucking flailing. He can’t even take looking at these thighs – not his lanky ass legs, no, they’re cute thighs, ones he himself would grab and spread if it belonged to a pretty girl underneath him. Cute lil socks on his ankles covered in kittens.

Kittens!?

Satoru stumbles again, bashing his head and feeling hair fall against his shoulders, shocked with that alone, but especially not being white. He stands and rushes to the little dresser – too small for him, everything is too small for him, but he is not six foot four, not one goddamn bit he realizes, looking at his reflection, at the pretty tits half falling out of a tank top spun.

Tits on his body!? He grabs them and squishes them in his hands, confused as fuck now, but he can’t help but keep squishing these pretty tits, as if they could rid him of the fucking stress, looking at the unfamiliar face. Softer features than his, completely different in every way – though she…

He!?

This body was beautiful, this face was lovely, the type of girl he’d flirt with or throw on his charm, but be just a little nervous, a little shy. Her lips are swollen as if she’d been kissed all night, he knows that look from women he’s been with, that hung over, fucked out look – though…

He doesn’t feel fucked – well how would he know!?!? He pulls aside those shorts, blushing and then covering back up, the panties were just a little wet, soaking the matching kittens. And that’s when it hits him, that clenching feeling in his tummy – he’s got a pussy.

And TITS.

Satoru Gojo is a…

Knock knock knock.

Maybe it’s Suguru and this is a joke, maybe this is a curse fucking with him – it’s one of those terrible fucking villains who make his life hell, and he’s cast under something. Or it’s a test – Yaga is fucking with him, making sure he can tell what’s real or not. Some Gojo initiation.

Anything but what this is – when a girl knocks at the door and smiles at Satoru, leaning against the door and crossing her arms.

“How was the first kiss, birthday girl?” She teases, Satoru blinks.

“Um… kiss…”

She says your name then.

Your name, is that your name?

Just who are you?

“Are you skipping physics? Aren’t you failing bad?” She asks now, clearly concerned as Satoru sputters.

HIM failing physics? There was no fucking way – well, that and Satoru IS NOT A WOMAN. “Failing? Nah, I don’t fail any subject.”

“Girl last night you were a mess about it, what’s wrong?” She asks again, he shakes his head, well – your head – and your phone is ringing. “Gonna get that?”

“Yeah.”

What’s your pattern!? What’s your phone pattern!? He tries so many times he gets completely locked out, cursing. “Maybe you’re still drunk?”

“Um yeah, I’m gonna take a shower and… get it together!” Satoru says, trying to get used to the girlie voice rather than his own, laughing as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck – much softer than his own. When she finally leaves he leans against the door, picking up that phone again – a glittery pink one.

What the fuck?

*****

You were wearing this unfamiliar dark clothing – you’ll give Satoru this, the man has taste – it was as fancy as clothing could get. You’re absolutely sure that it costs more money than anything in your dorm put together, even these shades you have to wear must be expensive.

One moment you’re another girl, the next – you’re seeing curses.

"Focus, Gojo,” Suguru is his name – apparently, the man with the long dark hair, smiling tiredly as he smokes a cigarette. “You’re off today.”

“Right, focus…” You trail off and sigh, holding up your hand and gasping when blinding light erupts from your palms, obliterating the practice dummies right in front of you. You stare at your shaking hands – huge ones, by the way, all of this goddamn man was huge. “I did that!?”

“Rub it in,” Shoko teases, laughing as she leans against Suguru, smoking a cigarette and laughing at you a bit. “We know you’re the best, Gojo. Stop acting as if you’re like us.”

“I’m not…” You trail off then, focusing on this insane fucking energy again, feeling it course through your veins.

You don’t even get tired, like something is regenerating you constantly.

What the fuck was this? What was this power, these creatures, any of it they were talking about? You can only hope when you go to bed tonight, everything is fucking normal – that you’re failing physics, and that you’re not a six foot four rich man who seemingly never gets a break.

And you thought you worked hard.

Every moment of Satoru Gojo’s day was taken up – from training, to this driver named Ijichi who takes him all over, to the next meeting where you have to fucking hope you can keep up this act, a room full of doors, interrogating Satoru about his upcoming wedding.

This man is getting married?

There are photos of prospective brides, and all you can do is shuffle through them, curious when the fuck you were going to wake up and not have a dick.

****

“You cheated on this test!” The professor of physics comes and yells at Satoru after he aces the test, he raises a brow at her. “No way you didn’t.”

“Why would I cheat?”

“You are the worst student in my class,” she slams the paper on Satoru’s desk, a blank test with different questions. “Do this, and I’ll watch you the whole time.”

His classmates – well they’re your classmates – look at him, all worried, but he aces the goddamn test again, until she’s sputtering. Satoru can see why you suck at physics, considering how mean she is – but luckily he just knows everything, and she can’t argue a second time.

“Well, I guess you pass.” She mumbles, handing him his paper with a hundred percent. “Barely!”

Satoru is tired when his phone goes off – work at six.

WORK.

He has to go work!?

He re-set your pattern to a fingerprint, so he got your phone open – and found just where you work, a little coffee shop. Satoru was a goddamn barista. He was getting bitched out by customers when he’s used to fighting curses – and that’s the craziest thing of all, besides having tits and a pussy.

He couldn’t see well – in fact, your vision was shitty. You had to wear glasses and these weird contact things, and he certainly couldn’t see curses – they could be all around, and he wouldn’t sense them.

He had to get back to his damn body.

*****

You’re so tired when you come back to the Gojo mansion you plop in the living room chair, yawning and kicking off his dress shoes, eyes shutting with your head leaned back. Your body is sore, and you still can’t sleep – this aching, gnawing feeling of being inside this huge body taking over, wondering just what sort of hallucination you were having.

You fall asleep on that couch, as Satoru crashes face first in your tiny little dorm room, and the two of you wonder…

Will you wake up from this weird fucking dream, of bodies you two can't recognize? Was any of this real?

patreon - comms

When you started seeing Satoru, you didn't expect much from him. Tall stature, ivory hair, dazzling sapphire eyes were only a few signifiers of his popularity with the female population, and unfortunately, with you as well. 

You aren't quite sure how he roped you in. You'd known him long enough, been friends long enough to give it a little push, to entertain his flirtations just a little bit despite your gut screaming at you to turn the other way, to let him bother some other hopeless case.

But that look in his pretty eyes, the one soft and precious enough to make you give him a chance, the one that led you to subconsciously lower your guard as you gazed into authenticity rather than suave and arrogance for the very first time, is what made you give it a shot. After all, you decided, a few months of knowing someone is enough to have an idea of how they'd treat you on dates, how they'd handle you in a relationship.

And what you do primarily know about Gojo is not his occupation, which he brushes over rather frequently, and not his home life, but his wealth. The man is loaded. You can tell simply by glancing at the time piece wrapped around his taut wrist and the ridiculously overpriced sunglasses that he pulls down the bridge of his nose to wink at you. You know that, even if trying to get to know him romantically ends in disaster, that you'd at the very least get a good fucking date out of it.

But the problem is that it didn't end at just one good date. What you had assumed to be a little fling, a one time outing, a test of his confidence actually turned out to be one of the best dates you’d ever been on. Satoru's a gentleman, in an annoying kind of way. He'll sport that cheeky grin as he holds the door for you and leads you to the finest seat of the establishment, and he'll lounge back in his seat as he gazes at you fondly, lips curving into that devilish smile as the softest of compliments tumbles from them.

He calls you beautiful like it's the first time he's ever said it, and however skeptical you may be, you detect it. You hear it. You see the truth in his eyes, hear it in the stutter of his words that he attempts to hide with jokes and false suave. However pompous Satoru Gojo may be outside of this territory, he's humbled into a rather pathetic sap at your hand, and you... well you like it. You really do.

So you let it sweep you up just a little bit, easing the air as you laugh freely about work stories that he only listens to and does not share himself. And that is another thing that surprises you. He only wants to hear about you, to learn about you, to understand you and your functions and divert from any topic of himself.

You notice it. You've taken note of it ever since you've known him. You thought that going on a date with him would have reduced some of his mystery, but alas, he remains an enigma in your eyes. An overly sweet, rather playfully irritating, gorgeous enigma. Something in your gut tells you not to trust it, but the way your hand slips into his as the two of you stroll the city after dinner says otherwise - or at least says that you don't mind the mystique. That you can play pretend just for a little while.

He tells you he wants to see you again. That he's practically chomping at the bit to take you out once more. That he's got all these date ideas swimming around in his head that have been plaguing him since the very day that he met you. That befriending you has brightened his life, and you allowing him to court you has opened his eyes to the world's beauty even more.

Satoru is all dimpled grins and sweet nothings, and you hate that you love it. You slap him on the chest with a scoff of a laugh and shake your head, but he means every word he says. You know he does. You allow yourself to think he does. Because he doesn't want you to feel as though he's playing pretend. He wants you to feel alive the way you make him feel. He wants you to sink into the notion, and trust that someone like him could actually take care of you.

So you go home after your date and wait for him to text you, to respond to your message saying that you had a great time, that you want to do this again when he's free, but it remains unanswered for a day and a half. And the first seed of doubt implants itself into your gut. 

He comes back the following night like nothing, responding as though he's answered you in minutes, expressing how much he enjoyed the night and shares your sentiments, and you text him back with a wrinkle in your brow that you try to brush off.

you | damn, late response lol

satoru | sorry sweetest most beautiful princess😩 work's been crazy, please don't be mad

And you try not to be. You try to be the understanding individual that you are, though he still doesn't clarify just what he does for work other than the fact that he works with kids and helps with their training. Training for what, you aren't sure, but you don't push it any further since he does not willingly offer up the information. Perhaps he's just guarded in that realm. Perhaps he signed some NDA. Hell, perhaps work really is digging into his free time. Even when you and Satoru became friends, he never texted all that often. You only are now noticing it because you've stepped into a different territory regarding your relationship, and your heart and mind have inflicted unwarranted expectations onto the man who so desperately wants to see you again.

You're annoyed, but you let it slide. The first time.

you | it's okay i understand, just lmk when you're busy or i'll think you died or something

satoru | that should be the least of your concerns, but noted!!! i'll do better.

And you schedule the next date, and unsurprisingly, your heart tugs into his direction even more. He takes you to an amusement park, something you vaguely mentioned in passing that you'd want to revisit because you rarely got to go as a kid. Hours of cotton candy, kettle corn, ferris wheel rides, and teddy bears later, he looks you in the eye and tells you how much he likes you - even with lingering sugar stuck to your shiny lips and your eyes reflecting the fireworks that burst overhead. He peers down at you with that soft gaze and gentle smile, cheeks warm and hair tossed by summer breeze, and you lean up on your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before he walks you to the car.

Surely, you expect some more conversation when you send him a picture of you and the bear he won from that carnie cuddled up in bed together that night, but once more, a day and a half passes, and he pops in out of the blue, responding like no time has passed again.

You feel yourself growing aggravated, but it's early, you tell yourself. He said he was busy with work, and it was nearing the end of the week, so you grant him that grace. You try your damndest to shovel down the doubts that begin to rise and focus on your own job, attempting to burrow the thoughts of him that begin to swarm your mind at the worst of times.

Then he calls you another day later, and you answer rather flatly.

"Hello."

"Hiii beautiful," Satoru sings into the phone. "What are you up to this weekend? Care to grace me with your presence?"

And his voice, so silky and playful, almost makes you forget your frustrations now that you're actually speaking to him. Almost. "Maybeee," you sigh.

"Uh oh. What's wrong? You hate me now?"

"No, I don't hate you. Stop saying that."

"Then what's wrong? You sound kinda... tired."

You rub your temple as you try to find the words. "Is everything okay with work? You've been really distant."

There's a slight pause. "Have I?" he questions as though he is genuinely confused by the sentiment. "I'm sorry, I honestly didn't realize. I'm not a good texter. You could ask my coworkers. I suck."

"It's fine. I know you're busy - it's just... I mean, could I ask what your intentions are with me?"

"Sure you can."

"...Well, what are they? Is this just a fling... or-"

"God, I hope not!" he chuckles, a hint of nervousness in his tone. "Why... is that what you want?"

"No. I just... if it's what you want then..."

"It's not," Satoru says earnestly. "I like you. I want to keep seeing you and only you. Seriously."

"So not like a fling?"

"Not at all like a fling."

"Okay..."

"Do you want that too? To keep dating me seriously?"

"...Yeah. Maybe," your cheeks flush.

Satoru takes the opportunity to lighten the mood and runs with it. "Maybe?? You tryin' to give me a heart attack?"

You snort. "You're dramatic."

"Only about you, pretty girl."

You close your eyes and exhale slowly. "Then... if we're being serious about this... I really don't care if you're busy. I promise I don't. But I get really weird about communication... and I'd prefer it if you told me beforehand when you'd be busy so I'm not expecting a text from you. Because... you really do respond late as hell. I know that's nothing new, but now that we're seeing each other... I just want more clarification. Is that... something you could do?"

He's silent for a moment, pensive, you think. "Of course it is, (Y/n)," he finally says, the humor leaving his voice. "I know you already mentioned that. I'm really sorry. My job is just - I don't have a lot of free time and things tend to slip my mind."

You store those words in a vault. You slip his mind? Does that mean he isn't thinking about you enough to care to reach out?

You try not to let the thought swallow you, and remain present in his words.

"Those kids must have you running ragged, huh?" you try to joke yourself, hoping for an opening to learn more.

"Like you wouldn't believe," he murmurs. "I'll tell you more about it some other time. Don't wanna bore you with the details."

"You could never bore me..." you trail off.

You hear a smile return. "You like me, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Satoru laughs loudly, and you hate the way your lips twitch to smile as you duck your head and try to force it away. "So mean," he whines. "You could never bore me either, for the record. And I really am sorry about my texting. I get distracted easily."

You roll your eyes, heart pounding in your ears. "Yeah, yeah."

"...Soooo, this weekend?"

"I'm free, you idiot."

And this weekend, he takes you to the fucking opera. Why? God only knows, but he tells you to dress pretty and that he'll pick you up adorned in a dark tux, and the only thing you can think about as you sit on the balcony with those binoculars you've only seen in Pretty Woman is that this man knows exactly how to make you feel like royalty, as long as he's physically with you.

His hand grazes the small of your back and when you turn to look at him with the glitter of your dangly earrings shining against your (s/c) skin, and an awed smile stretched from ear to ear during intermission, he melts. And you do too. 

And you decide, in that very moment, that the opera is your new favorite place to visit.

"I've never done that before."

Your head snaps into Satoru's direction as he waits for the valet to bring his car around after the show, hand around your waist, his cologne clinging to your fabrics. "Done what?" you ask softly, your head still light from the amazement you witnessed in the form of grand voices that tugged at the strings of your heart.

He looks down at you, lids low. "Gone to the opera."

You furrow your brows, though smiling. "What?" you laugh. "Then why'd you take me?"

He shrugs. "Thought we could experience something new together," he says. "You also said once that your mom used to play a lot of Puccini, so. I don't know. Thought it'd be cool."

Your eyes slim though your heart soars. "Do you even know who Puccini is?"

"He's an opera singer."

You cackle. "He's an opera composer."

"Oh. Well, same thing."

"You're insane," you giggle, holding your abdomen as Satoru's hand glides up the silk of your back.

"Didn't seem so insane when you were crying during the last thirty minutes."

"Hey, I didn't say it wasn't good!" you finally calm down, looking back up at him. You sigh out. "It was really beautiful. I can't believe you took us here off a whim though."

"But you liked it, right?" he smiles with the tilt of his head.

You purse your lips as your cheeks glow with warmth. "I loved it."

His smile warms. "Then my job is done." The atmosphere thickens as he pulls back slightly to lift a hand to the side of your face, slender fingertips gently brushing at something under your eye. You blink, holding his gaze as his hand hesitantly settles upon your cheek, thumb caressing your flushed skin. "Eyelash," he mumbles, voice dipping.

You hardly hear him, the lights of the theatre aglow around you as your faces inches further toward one another. Satoru's bright eyes have grown heavy and serious, pupils swollen with the image of you as the distance between your lips shrinks.

"Was it really an eyelash?" you whisper as he looks over your face contently, completely swept up in you.

"No," he says.

And the distance closes. Your lips meet. His arms encircle you, and you can not go back.

You forget that he doesn't tell you about work like he said he would. You forget that his communication when the two of you aren't physically together is not ideal. You forget it all, and let him kiss you like you mean something to him, and let come inside with you when he drives you home as though he's promised himself to you.

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed and a text saying that he had to run much to his chagrin. But it's Sunday. No ordinary person works on a Sunday, so, rather abruptly, his sound excuse crumbles, and you are left with the empty imprint of his body in your sheets where he held you close.

You text him back expressing how much you enjoyed the night, and like always, nothing comes in return.

You elect to wash the sheets.

The assumptions come flooding into your mind as you busy yourself with cleaning the space after the two of you had left it in such a wreck. He couldn't even bother to straighten up on his way out.

Is he married? Does he have any kids? A secret family? Is he fucking other women behind your back and trying to hide it? Is he even employed?

The possibilities wreck your brain as time passes, and every second he does not respond weighs down on your shoulders, as you begin to think that this was all just a trap - that he successfully baited you into sleeping with him. Using false promises, pretty dates, and his charm to weasel his way into your body, pretending to be enamoured with you as he held eye contact through every second, as he talked you through every second, as he swore to do right by you every second he was inside of you.

And now he's gone. A memory that has tinged itself in resentment with the setting of the sun and his sheer lack of reply. You think of calling him, but you decide that would look desperate. You think of telling him off, but decide that would look too hasty.

You try to understand. Desperately you do, but how can you when you are left high and dry every single time he leaves your presence? How can you when he doesn't bother to think of you when you aren't around? How can you when he doesn't even have the decency to let you know that he's okay? To tell you the truth if he's hiding something? To be up front if he's kept secrets?

You don't do well with lack of communication. Even if he's a bad texter, your mind does not jump to that simple solution. In the absence of words, your mind jumps into overdrive. You conjure up the worst possible solutions, the most outrageous notions, and you stew in them until you get answers.

So that night before bed, you double text.

you | hey... you good? what did you have to go do?

And you wait with your phone clutched in trembling hands for a text that does not come. So you put his messages on mute, turn over, and try to sleep.

But your heart wails for its capture, as you realize you're falling for someone who can't even text you back. Your dreams are haunted by your anxieties, by the thought of him running off to his family, by the thought of him texting other women, by the thought of him hiding something monumental from you.

Because that is something that you know for certain, that he is protecting something with his life. Whether it is good or bad, you do not know, but you doubt that you will access it any time soon.

The next morning you get up early to go grab a cup of coffee. Your texts remain unanswered, despite having muted his messages, so to drown your irritation, you take a walk to the nearest coffee shop.

On your way out however, you see him. Clad in a dark blindfold that spikes his fluffy hair upward, the same hair that your fingers were entwined in two nights prior, and a strange black uniform adorning his entire body.

But next to him... next to him is a brunette woman with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and heavy, yet entrancing circles tracing under her eyes. They walk closely beside one another. She says something. Satoru laughs. And your heart shatters.

She’s beautiful.

Not only did Satoru refuse to answer your text, but he refused to because he was busy with another woman.

And when you look down, that stupid phone of his is clutched in his hand.

You consider yourself to be a reasonable woman. You always try to exercise patience, to see all sides of a situation even if it makes you uncomfortable, to not act with your emotions first but with empathy, for you never know what other people may have going on in their lives.

Satoru told you he'd try, but weeks have passed, and his communication remains the same. And it's not because he's busy, but because he merely does not want to speak to you. Because his time is occupied by another bitch, who he probably ran off to the second he was done fucking you.

Anger bubbles in your gut. You knew it. You knew something was wrong. You knew that someone like him couldn't possibly be loyal to you. You knew that it was all too good to be true, that his silence answered for something he refused to name.

Now you see it. And against your better judgment, against your carefully exercised patience, against your logic, you steep in red. You're hurt, you're embarrassed, you're betrayed.

So instead of trying to understand, you let all of your insecurities and doubts pile up and explode, using them as a justification for what you see. You toss your overpriced coffee to the ground, it splatters at your feet, and you march across the street with steam rising from your head to save you from tears.

Satoru seems to sense you when you are halfway to him, and his laughter dies down. His face drops, and he turns to you in shock, or what you assume to be shock, as you aren't entirely sure due to the blindfold hiding his eyes.

The brunette's eyes float to you after Satoru's attention diverts, and she blinks cluelessly as you stomp toward him.

"(Y/n)!" he starts in surprise, but the very sound of his voice only infuriates you.

"Don't you fucking (Y/n) me. What the fuck is your problem?" you jab your index finger toward him. The brunette's eyes widen slightly, and she slowly looks up to Satoru as if she's caught a child getting in trouble.

Satoru stammers, hands raising at your foreign, accusatory tone. "What are y-"

"You just fuck me after a date and then disappear again? Like you fucking always do?" you shout. The brunette's hand goes to her mouth, but you doubt she's uncomfortable. In fact, it almost looks like she's enjoying this.

It pisses you off.

Satoru's cheeks flush red as he glances over at the woman frantically, then back down at you. "(Y/n), can we talk about this somewhere else?"

"No! No, we can't talk about it somewhere else! Have I not told you a hundred times that I need better communication if this is gonna work? Every time you tell me you'll get better, that you're sorry, but nothing fucking changes! I don't know why the hell I thought it would change after you had sex with me!" you pause to chuckle cynically. "That's fucking hilarious! What the hell was I thinking? That you'd suddenly be loyal to me because you called me pretty and took me out three times? Christ, I'm a fucking idiot!"

Satoru tries to take a step closer. "You're not an idiot," he reaches for you, but you swat his hand away. He reels, stepping back as though you've burned him with clamped, wobbly lips.

"Don't fucking touch me. You can't use me anymore. I won't let you. I'm done. I told you how I feel about this shit, and you've ignored me every single time. I don't wanna talk to someone who doesn't take me seriously and who lies about it."

"But I do take you seriously," he pleads. "I told you, I do-"

"If you did, you would have responded. You would have called. You wouldn't let me initiate damn near every single conversation. You'd hear me when I express something to you," you fume, tears building in your eyes. "How am I supposed to trust you if you can't even do that? If you won't even tell me what you do for work? If you're clearly able to pick up the phone, but not for me? If you're actively with another woman while I wait for you to fucking reply days later?"

The brunette raises her hand slowly, lazily, hesitant to interrupt. "Sorry, but," she starts, and your eyes snap to her heatedly. "I'm his-"

"I don't give a fuck what you are, okay?" you interrupt. Her hand falls and she nods, rather unintimidated. "I'm done. Hear me? Done. Lose my fucking number."

With that, you turn over your shoulder and march back off across the street, leaving Satoru and the brunette to reel in the aftermath of your outburst.

Satoru blinks, watching you retreat with his heart weighing down in his chest. A lump of shame builds in his throat, and he remains rigid as if he is still being yelled at.

"So," Shoko starts awkwardly. "That was her?"

"Yep, that was... that was her," he finally says, dejectedly.

There's a beat.

"You fucked her then left her on delivered?"

"Shoko," Satoru whines, turning to her with a slump in his dejected posture. "Please don't start, you just watched the woman I'm crazy about stomp on my heart and leave it on the pavement to get shit on."

"Okay well, if you're so crazy about her, why haven't you texted her back?"

The ivory haired sorcerer sighs. "Because I'm in too deep."

"Clearly you already were."

"That's not what I-" he glares with a pout at her innuendo, but Shoko looks up at him boredly, expectantly. Satoru groans. "Because I'm a sorcerer and she's not, and the kind of life I live isn't meant for her."

"Then why pursue her in the first place?"

"I couldn't help it," he ducks his head, scratching the nape of his neck. "She's sweet, she's smart, she's... she's strong, and so pretty. I’m obsessed with her," he shakes his head. "And you know Gakuganji's been sending me on all these stupid ass missions back to back too. He knows I'm gettin' distracted. Between that, and Yuji, and... I just don't wanna hurt her."

"Eh. Too late for that."

"You're not helping," he groans. "I'm serious. What if she becomes a target because I'm around her too much? What if she finds out what I do and thinks I'm crazy?"

"If you like her as much as you say you do, then... I don't know. Just be honest. Just go for it."

"And put her in danger?"

"There's always danger with you around, Satoru. Why should it matter if it means you can be happy?"

Satoru purses his lips. "It matters 'cause I'm not just some sorcerer. It matters because she could get killed."

"Is she worth it?"

He looks off into the direction you stormed off in and his heart aches at the thought of losing you this way. "Yeah," he frowns.

"Then protect her. She’s not gonna get hurt with you around."

Satoru turns back to look at his close friend, hooking a finger under his blindfold to peer at her with his icy gaze. "Why are you telling me that?"

Shoko sighs. "'Cause I haven't seen you this happy since Suguru died," she says rather casually, as if the very statement did not send memories flashing rapidly through Satoru's brain. "That and I like her."

"You like her?" Satoru squints his eyes. "You just met her, and she yelled at the both of us."

"Yeah, it was nice to see a woman give you her ass to kiss," she says flatly.

Satoru deflates, lowering his blindfold back over his eyes with a sorrowful exhale. "...It was kinda hot, right?"

"For the love of god. Go fucking text her, moron."

He will, for what you don't know is that every time he leaves you, he sticks around in secret to make sure you get to your destination safely as he watches from afar, six eyes detailing your every move. What you don't know is that during every mission, he stares at the contact picture he's saved of you mid-laugh, your eyes scrunched tight and all pretty teeth of yours on display, just to get him through the day. What you don't know is how he babbles about you, the amazing, gorgeous woman he's seeing that everyone at work thinks is fake, every single chance that he gets, hearts fluttering in his eyes at the mere thought of you, his constant babble in front of his students making them all want to gag.

What you don't know is how silently he yearns for you when he forces himself not to respond, when the fears of what could happen to you as a result of others trying to get to him stop his fingers from clicking the keys. When the higher ups barely allow him a moment to breathe as he teleports between countries long enough for days to slip into nights, and he's only back in time to realize that another day has gone by without him reaching out to you, texting you, hearing your pretty voice, seeing your pretty face.

What you don't know is the toll that his occupation takes on him. What you don't know is who he really is to the world, and how hard it is to balance having feelings for you with taking care of the entire planet.

But you are worth it. He pictures your sleeping form curled into his chest, your makeup smeared and your hair messy, and your heart peacefully pattering against his skin. His heart clenches.

You're so worth it.

"Shoko, tell Yaga I'm taking the day off."

"Ummm, sure, but he's not gonna - " Before she can finish, he's vanished into thin air, and she rolls her eyes. " - like it," she eventually trails off, pulling out her phone and continuing her walk.

You're at the door of your house, trembling with anger, when you feel a strange breeze pick up behind you, and when you turn around, you find Satoru standing there behind you in all of his six something glory.

You jump with a yelp. "How the fuck did you just - what the hell?!"

"Sorry. I'm sorry, pretty. Hey," he reaches for his blindfold and yanks it off. You watch as snowy hair falls back down to frame his face as he tucks the fabric into his pocket to look at you clearly, see you can see him. The pain in his eyes, the regret, the desperation, and you watch with knitted brows, red eyes, and a deep frown. He hates the sight on your face. "I'm sorry. For everything. I'm so sorry."

"Satoru, how did you - " you look around, still confused as to how he just appeared behind you like that, but then you remember your rage. "Whatever. Go away, I don't want to talk to you."

You go to reach for your door handle, but he grabs your hand. You yank it away, turning hotly on your heel to glare up at him. He holds his hands up in defense.

"(Y/n), please. I'm sorry. Just let me explain. You had every right to say what you said back there, but - "

"Damn right I did. You're a liar, Satoru."

"Okay, I'm not a liar. I've never been a liar."

"Then what do you call what I just saw? You were out with another woman! You told me that you were only seeing me!"

"I am only seeing you! That was Shoko, Shoko is my coworker!"

"Your-" you stop yourself, staring hard into his eyes as if trying to read if he's telling the truth. "Your coworker? She's your coworker who you were walking around with on a Monday morning while actively ignoring my texts? And you still won't even tell me where you work! How am I supposed to believe you?"

"Because, (Y/n), I swear to you that she has never been anything but a friend and peer to me. We went to high school together. We work at the same place."

"Which is?"

"I - " he hesitates. "I can't... tell you like this. It's not - it's hard to explain."

"Sure it is," you scoff. "Goodbye, Satoru."

"(Y/n), please," the sapphire eyed sorcerer begs, and he panics the moment your keys jam into the lock and your hand grips that handle tight. He panics, images of Suguru turning his back to him flickering through his head, years of loneliness flashing by, then you. You and your smile, you and your laughter, you and your sunshine that he's somehow turned to rain.

He can't lose you. Not to this. Not to any other threat.

"(Y/n)," he calls you, and when you still don't answer as you push open your front door, the words blurt out. "I'm a sorcerer."

You freeze. Satoru's heart drops to his stomach, his eyes wide, and you slowly turn over your shoulder. "You're what?"

The ivory haired man gulps. "I'm..." he gets lost in your harsh eyes, and all logic fails him. "I'm... that's what I do. I'm a... sorcerer."

You watch him, befuddled. "What the hell is a sorcerer? Like - like DND?"

"Kind of...?"

Your shoulders slump, and you stare at Satoru with a quirked brow. "Are you shitting me? Now you're gonna tell me you have a made-up job?"

"It's not made up," Satoru's voice dips into something more serious.

"Oh really? Then what the hell does a 'sorcerer' do?"

Satoru looks into your innocent eyes and sighs as he prepares to warp your perception of what is real and what is not. He hates to do this to you. He really does, but a woman like you deserves his truth. The good, the bad, the ugly. As long as you'll take him. It's a risk he's willing to take.

Suguru would have had his fucking head for doing something like this.

Your eyes go wide, as the man that was once in front of you completely disappears from sight. Your head jerks back, your eyes darting about the vacant space, and you breathe out a gasp of confusion. Are you hallucinating? Are you going crazy?

You step away from your door, which is now ajar, looking all around you like you've lost your mind, and for a moment you think you have.

"I'm here, pretty."

You rip your body around with lightning speed, shoulders bunched to your ears as you stare wildly at the vision of Satoru now halfway through your doorway. You're frozen with something between stun and fear, and you stumble back, dazed. You look behind you, then turn to face him again as he steps forward. "You - you - how did - you just - "

"I know," Satoru exhales, dimple poking his cheek as his mouth twists to the side. "I know. I'm sorry. That was probably really weird."

"Satoru," you murmur lowly. "How the hell did you just do that?"

"I'm a sorcerer," he says again, like it means something, like it could make any of this make sense. "Certain things I'm able to just do."

"You teleported?"

"Mhm," he finally is able to approach you in your state of shock, monitoring your rapid heartbeat and your doe-like eyes. "I do... a lot of other things, but I - I don't want to overwhelm you."

 Your hands fly to your head. "What the fuck," you breathe out, looking up and down his frame. "I must be - dreaming or something - "

"You're not. I'm real. This is real."

You shake your head. "It can't be."

Satoru presses his lips together, watching you carefully as he holds his hand out to you. "Try to touch me."

You scrunch your nose. "What?"

"Just try it."

Against your better judgment, you do. You inch a finger toward him slowly only to meet an invisible wall that blocks you from coming in contact with his open palm. Your brows knit, and you attempt to touch him again, but to no avail. You poke and poke, then slap a hand against the shield, before ripping away. "Ohhh, what the fuck," you murmur under your breath. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.”

"(Y/n), listen. C'mere. Please."

Satoru rushes around you as you turn to mull over what you've just witnessed, dropping his infinity the moment he's holding your gaze again. His hands fly to hold your shoulders, keeping you steady in your stupor. You look down at the hands holding you, wondering how he can touch you now. "Listen, okay? Please, please don't be scared."

"I'm not - scared, I'm fucking confused!"

"I know, baby. I know. And I'll try my best to explain everything, but listen, it's really dangerous that I'm telling you and showing you this, alright? You gotta promise me you won't tell anyone."

You squint your eyes. "Who would I-?"

"Just promise me," he says sternly. For the first time, you see Satoru as he is, firm, a force, a being to be reckoned with. Someone to take seriously. You stare up at him, dumbfounded. "Promise, okay? I don't want you getting hurt."

"...But how - "

"Please, (Y/n). Promise me."

You see the same truth in his eyes that first brought you to him, and you slowly relax as best as you can. "I promise."

Satoru exhales a breath he did not realize he was holding. "Good. Thank you." You nod mutely, still completely awed. Satoru notices and takes the opportunity to continue now that he's got you like this. Now that you'll hear him. "(Y/n), I really like you. I really, really do."

"...What does that have to do with - "

"I like everything about you. I like every moment we spend together. I like holding your hand, and kissing you, and feeling you, and the hardest thing I ever had to do was leave you alone yesterday morning to go to work. My job is... it's hard to explain, but I do work with kids. And I do train them... to become sorcerers. To become strong like me. That may not mean anything to you right now, but it's my life. My whole entire life, and because I am who I am, everyone expects a lot from me, you understand? Every day I have to drop what I'm doing to take care of really fucked up things, and I'm really sorry that I've left you hanging in the process. I'm really, so sorry, princess. I know I said I'd get better with communicating, but it's not really easy to tell the girl you're seeing that I had to go to Italy to exorcise thirty curses - "

"What?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. What matters is you. What matters is that I made you feel unheard and tossed aside because I was too scared of putting you in harm's way, or because I literally have no time to myself. The time I do have, I spend with you. And then it's all over so soon and I leave you hating me because I can't be there for you like a normal man. I so badly want to be that for you, but I'm just not. And I'm sorry. I should've found more time, I should've communicated, I should've done anything to make you feel safe but I just did the opposite. And I'll hate myself forever for doing that to you because you… because I just care about you so much. And I don't ever want to make you feel the way I have ever again."

Silence swallows you whole after Satoru has ceased his rant. You can feel his fingers lightly digging into your shoulders, eager for you to say anything in return, but you just stare at him in awe, overwhelmed, so so confused... but somehow relieved.

Satoru's brows curl upward. "Please say something. Anything. Say you hate me. Or you think I'm crazy - do you think I'm crazy?"

Your lips part, your eyes glassy. "A little," you say honestly. Satoru bows his head in humiliation. "...But... I think... I believe you."

He perks up immediately, big blue eyes blown wide with hope. "You do?"

"For some reason, yeah. Yeah I do," you swallow hard, still processing. "So that woman-"

"Shoko."

"Shoko. She's also a...?"

"A sorcerer. Yeah. We were going to pick up our kids from a mission."

"Your... kids?"

"Students! Our students!" he clarifies.

"...And you have powers...? That you teach the students? At a sorcery school?"

"...Kind of…?"

"And you teleport. And have an invisible forcefield."

Satoru tries not to laugh as you wrap your mind around the concept. "I mean... that's kind of what it is. Yeah."

“O-Okay… so, what else can sorcerers do?"

"We're not all the same. Everyone has their own technique."

"Technique?"

"Like a power."

"Oh. Then what's yours?"

Satoru smiles warmly. "Let's not worry about all the details right now," he chuckles. "I just wanna worry about you. Okay? Are you okay?"

You nod stiffly. "Yes. Yeah. I'm just... sorry. I'm sorry."

The reality of everything comes crashing down on you, but surprisingly, not what Satoru has just unveiled, but rather what you said to him on the street earlier. The scene you caused. The accusations you threw. The assumptions you made. How out of character you got.

"Oh Jesus," you groaned, bringing a hand to your head. "You really don't know what people have going on in their lives."

"(Y/n)? You sure you're okay?"

The kindest, most concerned blue eyes follow your every move as secure palms hold you, and you deflate. "I'm fine. I'm sorry. I just realized I cussed you out for no reason. I'm so sorry."

Satoru blinks. "You're not... mad about the sorcerer thing?"

"I mean, I'm still fucking confused, but no... I feel awful that I ripped you apart like that in front of your coworker. Oh god, and I snapped at her. Satoru, I'm really sorry. I had no idea."

"(Y/n)

," he calls your name gently. "How could you have known?" You go to answer, but you can think of no response. "I'm the one who kept you in the dark. I'm the one who hid this from you. I'm the one with a secret identity. You have no reason to apologize to me. I deserved it. From where you stand, you couldn't have possibly known."

"But now I do, and I... I mean, I knew you were hiding something, but... I should've paid more attention?"

"To what?" he chuckles. "I hid this from you every day. There's nothing you could have noticed."

"I notice how tired you are sometimes," you say softly. "I notice how quick you are to take care of everything. To pay, to splurge. Like it's your responsibility."

"That is my responsibility."

"But you do it like you're... trying to be seen... or I don't know.... appreciated," you say, and Satoru's smile slowly fades. "But I appreciate you without all that flashy stuff. And now I understand... you must be a really big deal where you come from. You must have a lot of pressure on you."

You have absolutely no idea.

But he doesn't even bother to confirm or deny. For once, he's happy to hear how a human being perceives him. "I don't know, I should've realized how much you have on your plate instead of constantly thinking about how you could make me feel better. I mean yeah, it sucked not hearing from you, but now that I - I know some shit like sorcery exists, the texting thing doesn't really seem like all that big of an issue. And I really am sorry I yelled at you like that. I swear, I'm not always like that. I just really like you, and when I feel like I haven't been heard or seen, I freak out and jump to the worst-"

You feel hands cup your face and draw you upward, and your eyes go wide as those soft lips press to yours passionately. You hum in shock before sinking into the warmth that you desperately longed to feel again. Your hands go to hold his wrists as you reach up on your tip toes, and his lips slowly mold against yours in three, prolonged smacks.

He pulls away, and you bat the cloudiness away from your eyes as you look up into his own. Satoru beams down at you with a love struck grin, cheeks rosy and pupils blown, snowy lashes low over his irises. He ducks back down to kiss your forehead, and your heart thrums.

"I just told you that I'm a sorcerer, and all you can think about is how you made me feel?" he murmurs sweetly. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"I didn't - do anything?" you say slowly.

"You did," he smiles, skin creasing at the corners of his eyes. "I understand why you yelled, (Y/n). I deserved it. And honestly... I kinda liked it."

You can't help the snort you let out. "You what?"

"I liked that you stood up for yourself. That you don't take any crap. You know your worth. And you should. You're perfect."

"You freak," you push at his chest so that he releases you. His hands fall to his sides, yet his love dazed expression remains as he looks at you. "You're insane."

"I know," he agrees happily. "I really like you."

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, fighting your smile. "I really like you too," you admit. "But you're a fucking weirdo. Teleporting and shit. What the fuck is that?"

"I know," he says again. "You don't even know the half of it, sweetheart. It gets a lot weirder."

You scrunch your face. "Do I wanna know?"

He shrugs. "Do you? I got all the time in the world."

"I thought you were busy. Don't you have to go to work?"

"Mmmmm, I took off."

"You can do that?"

"Not really. But I'm the big shot around there, so they can't really do shit about it." You look at him skeptically and he grins. "Enoughhh, today's about you, and repairing the damage I've done. So ask me all the questions you want. I'm here. I promise."

You pucker your lips in thought. "No more shitty texting?"

"No more shitty texting. For real real this time."

You turn and gaze at your ajar front door. "Alright. Come inside. I've got two hours before my shift."

You can hardly get your sentence out before he's scooping you up bridal style into his arms and marching you through the threshold of your front door. You squeal, gripping onto his shoulders tight. He kicks the door closed behind you and looks down at you with a devious, heavy haze in his eyes.

the events of the prior night plagued you through visions. his arms — the way they flexed with each turn of the wheel, the way his body leaned closer to yours as he retrieved his sweater from the back seat. 

his words stuck to your back for the rest of the night. "see you tomorrow, pretty girl," landing and ironing itself to your skin. 

you recalled his scent — vanilla musk, mint, and the faintest hint of the cigarette he had smoked earlier that clung to the tips of his hair.

in front of you was a familiar scene. dark wash jeans, and a black t shirt. brown boots. body laid supine on a trolly underneath your car.

"how long do you think this will take?" you asked, cringing slightly from the chair's loud screeching.

"tryna get away from me that quickly, darling?" he called back. you hear the smirk in his words. smug bastard. "i'm just getting started down here." 

"tim said that you said it would be an easy fix," 

jason's only response was a hum of confirmation. he hadn't lied — it was an easy fix. but he couldn't bring himself to let you leave just yet. he couldn't. he was selfish, he knew, he wanted to stay in your presence just a little longer. because you… you were off limits. you would go back to your life — school, work, tim, your friends. jason didn't believe that he needed to fit into your life alongside those factors.

"that it wouldn't take long?" you continued after his lack of response. 

"that was before i saw what a mess your car is," 

"shark is reliable," your voice rang back defensively. your car was beautiful. a 99 chevy cavalier. perfect for you. 

"you named your car 'shark'?" his lip curled above his top teeth. of course you had named your car. you had seemed like the type who would. the name was cute, jason would admit, you were cute, but denying it was easier than admitting it. 

"yeah," your tone was flat, defensive. "it's grey, and strong — therefore, a shark."

"right," jason agreed for your sake. the name of your car didn't change his life in any way. he rolled himself out from the undercarriage and stood in front of the hood of your car. 

he took a moment to inspect and assess. seeing him in his element was mesmerizing. his calculating gaze showed care and experience. his eyes roved over each part, and how they worked together. 

"come here," his voice called out, head nodding invitingly. your feet were moving over to him before your brain even realized it was happening. he was a magnet, one that you didn't think you could stay away from even if you wanted to. 

"see this?" he murmured as he stepped to the side to make room for you. you nodded. his finger remained pointing to a part on top of your engine. "that big thing is your engine. and this is your valve. it's leaking and is what is causing problems." 

you nodded again in understanding, leaning your upper half closer to inspect it. jason tried to keep his gaze on your car as well, and keep from wandering down your back. but fuck you were so close to him. and the smell of your perfume was flooding his senses. his fingers hovered on the small of your back, fingers brushing the hem of your tank top — black this time, and just as tantalizing. 

"the good thing is, your engine is fine," he explained. his words were so close to your ear, and you were aware of his proximity to your back. the way his "want me to show you how to fix it?" 

your head tilted back over your shoulder to regard him. his face was so close to yours, close enough to cause your breath to hitch in your throat. 

"yeah? so i can take your job?" the corner of your lip twitched upward. 

jason's expression softened fractionally, his eyes roving over your face. "you think that's how this works?"

words died in your throat. his gaze on you almost stopped your heart. your lips parted to respond, a witty response ready and shaped under your tongue. yet all you could do was press your lips back together and turn back towards the car. jason was entranced by the curve of your mouth. his own mind was short-circuting, just the same as yours. at the sight of your lips pressed together, he took that as a sign to step up closer behind you. 

"okay," he murmured, his arm circling you. his biceps caged you in, pressing against your shoulders. "we are gonna take this rag and wrap it around here,"

his voice was breathy against your ear, but still low and controlled. his weight against your back was grounding, yet completely debilitating. every ridge, every crevice of his chest pressed into you. 

"and then, we're gonna pull," a loud pop followed the end of jason's sentence. your eyes remained on your engine under the valve, scanning, questioning. 

jason's own gaze remained fixed on your face. your fascination, your concern, was evident on your features. your brows dipped slightly as your mind worked around the inner workings of your car — he was speechless by the sight. 

clearing his throat, he let go of your hand and removed himself from behind you. "and, she's all fixed up,"

you immediately felt the loss. a steady chill crawled up the back of your spine. his chest had been so warm and solid against your back. a small part of you was upset at how easily jason fixed your car. you almost wished there was more wrong in order to spend more time caged in by his arms. 

"thanks for fixing her up," you turned to face the front of him, gaze lifted to meet his. his height was towering, no matter the size of your own body. he commanded space. took it up without meaning to — without even wanting to. he was inescapable, a large mass that captured your attention. "how much do i owe you?" 

"don't worry about it," his response was short. dismissive. nonchalant. his arm reached by your head, unhooking the hood of your car and letting it shut.

"jason." you stated, disbelieving. "i'm serious." 

"so am i," 

"just tell me how much i owe you,"

"nothing. was a favour for your boyfriend," he shrugged, his expression remaining unchanging. 

"he's not my boyfriend," your face contorting into a look of disgust. tim was the last person you would choose to date. especially when there was someone else on your mind, someone who happened to be standing in front of you. 

"right, well, still a favour for the piece of shit," 

you gave him a look at his choice of words to describe tim. there were a few beats of silence between the two of you. 

"shop policy is that we need to test run the car," he gave you a sidelong glance, his hand brushing over the hood. "make sure it's running properly." 

"you do this with all your clients?" you raised a brow, unconvinced. 

"can't let you go unless i know you're safe in that thing," he ignored your question, "in good conscious." 

"do i get to drive?" you raised a brow. 

"in your dreams," his voice muttered. he had already opened the passenger door of your car, hand gestured for you to get in. 

"it's my car and i don't even get to drive," you snarked, slipping by him, your back brushed against his chest again briefly. 

"as long as you're with me, you don't have to touch the wheel again," jason's voice was barely above a breath, words uttered as he shut the door after you got settled. 

he hoped you hadn't heard. 

he hadn't even known why he said those words. he didn't mean them. he didn't know you, and he didn't want to know you. 

you were tim's friend, not his. 

﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒

the front of your hood burnt the bottom of your thighs. 

how you ended up in the meadow on the outskirts of town was beyond you. 

jason was perched beside you, arms folded as he gazed at the over grown grass.

"this place is quite far from town," your voice drifted into jason's ears alongside the gentle breeze that swayed the grass. 

he nodded, his eyes fixed ahead. 

you left it at that, following his gaze ahead. there was peace in the view. an endless expanse of green that contrasted with the cut of the sharp blue sky. 

"i come here quite often," he responded after a while of silence, turning to gaze up at you. 

"peaceful," you added. you didn't feel the need to add more, he understand what you were implying with your words. "do you ever go sit in the field?"

he shook his head, "i like to watch from here,"

you pushed yourself off the hood of your car, feet landing on the road below. rocks crunched under the sole of your shoes, dust settling into the ankles of your jeans. "well then, let's go,"

"no," he shook his head, shifting against the hood. he looked down, knowing that if he continued to look into your eyes he would give in. jason felt himself wanting to give him, wanting to do whatever you wanted. and it was terrifying him. 

you rolled your eyes at his response, "come on, jason,"

he fixed his gaze back ahead, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. it wasn't that he didn't want to — god, he fucking wanted to. he couldn't allow himself to. you were dangerous. 

you took his silence and nodded slowly. "well, i'm gonna go and enjoy myself. and you can stay here, loser," 

you smirked at him, nudging his arm before you turned around and took off running into the grassy area.

the sun cut down through the wind, warming your shoulders. you weren't gonna let jason's reluctance stop you. 

jason watched you run, watched the way your arms swung by your side. his body subconsciously pushed off the hood, moving to follow you into the sun. you felt like his sun, and he couldn't help but want to orbit around you. 

he let out a soft huff, his nails biting into his palm for a moment. 

"fuck," he muttered under his breath before he took off running after you. it felt good, but he wouldn't admit that out loud to you. it was scary how natural this feeling was for him, how easily this path to you opened for him to chase. 

it was scary how fast jason caught up to you. the head start you had was diminished in seconds. he kept a steady pace just behind you, not yet matching your pace, just watching. 

the smile you flashed over your shoulder was blinding. jason almost tripped over his feet at the sight. your teeth beaming with genuine joy, your tongue peeking out from behind the top row. and then your laugh. a breathless laugh from the belly that punched into his chest. 

"tag!" your hand reached back to swat at his arm, while you stumbled over the grass in the process. you righted yourself and cut immediately to the left.

you took off sprinting again in the opposite direction. the melody of your laugh continued to fill jason's void, and he followed without a second thought. 

he chased after you, breath barely puffing out of his chest. he wanted to prolong this moment for as long as he possibly could, to preserve this memory in locket and wear it around his chest — he didn't even know if he would see you again after this. 

all he was supposed to do was to fix your car, as per tim's instructions. that was all. it was only a favour. nothing more. yet, it felt like everything to jason in this moment. how quickly his life had been changed within a couple of days was something he was unable to comprehend. 

his arm circled around your waist, lifting you up into his chest and spinning you around to carry your momentum. you gasped through a shriek, legs kicking into the air at how suddenly you were airborne. 

"got you," his chest rumbled against your back. his other hand latched onto your thigh to steady you back on the ground. 

"jason, oh my—" your hands gripped his arm as the world suddenly spun off it's axis. your foot caught in a hole, your body stumbled forward. the ground was approaching faster than you could process, than you could react. your eyes shut as you braced yourself for impact. you could practically feel your body hitting the ground, the grass catching between your fingertips and sticking under your nails. you were already cringing at the thought. that was gonna be a pain to get out later.

only, you didn't hit the ground — not really. your bottom did, but not as hard as you had anticipated. the back of your head was cushioned, along with your upper back. you realized it was jason by the way his knees thudded against the dirt, bracketing your thighs. jason was practically straddling you. his hand crunched beneath your head before the arm around your upper back pulled you up, hovering your body a few inches off the ground. 

your eyes were wide and wild, gazing up at him. 

he was so close. 

again.

you had seen him up close before, the two of you had shared a few moments in a proximity that was closer than you should have been, but none of those times compared to this. 

he was right there. 

small freckles dusting his nose, blue irises that carried hints of green, and complete and utter perfection. 

and for, jason, god he was speechless. it was instinct on his end, really. his hands moved on their own — thrumming with the desire to protect you. he would let his arms take the brunt of any pain if it had meant you would never see harm. 

was he that pathetic? that you had managed to have him under your thumb within such a short time of knowing you? clearly, he was. 

your fingers instinctively curled into the collar of his shirt, keeping him close. your chest was expanding with breaths that never quite sat right in your lungs, leaving you more dizzy than anything else — or was that because you were close enough to smell jason's natural musk? 

jason lowered your body slowly — hand slipping from under your head, arm uncurling from your upper back and letting you rest on the grass. the green blades framed your head like a halo. angel. you were his angel. 

he followed you down, unable to put space between your bodies. his hands rested beside your head, further bracketing you beneath him. his eyes roved over your form in concern. 

"you okay?" he murmured softly. he checked for injuries, anything, he angled his head to gaze at your ankle — the reason why you had fallen in the first place. it looked fine to him, thankfully. 

you nodded slowly, lips parted in slight shock, eyes still transfixed on his face. 

"need you to say it. are you in any pain?" he repeated, gazing back into your eyes. "does your ankle hurt at all?" 

"i'm okay," you swallowed thickly. "my ankle is fine." 

he accepted your answer, visibly relaxing. "good."

"sorry," you blurted out, anxious from how close he was. from how you could count each and every single one of his eyelashes as they were attached to his eyelid.

"for what?" his voice was barely above a whisper. the breeze flowed through the grass, kissing over your cheeks and sending hair fluttering across your forehead. he brushed the strand back, memorizing the texture under his thumb. he knew why you were apologizing, and it was unnecessary. though, he recognized your words are more instinct than a genuine apology. 

your brain blanked, subconsciously pulling him closer by the collar. closer. closer. it wasn't close enough. 

jason followed willingly. it would agonize him to deny you right now, to deny himself. 

his head dipped down, the tip of his nose brushed against yours. his shaky breath fanned across your lips. 

"angel…" he whispered, eyes squeezing tightly. it was as if the darkness behind his lids could stop him, stop his desire for you. stop the fire that was spreading up his neck — one that could only be extinguished with the press of your lips. 

he wanted it so badly, wanted you. he knew you would taste good under his tongue, that you would mold perfectly with him. his fingers dug into the ground, denting the dirt with the force of his restraint. 

and when your hands slid up from his collar and onto his neck, jason knew he was done for. he was gone. completely at your mercy just by the touch of your fingertips. his neck burned at the spots where your skin met his. he was ready to carve his heart out of his chest and hand it to you with his own hands. his chest plating armour, his protection, his walls that had shielded the parts of himself that he refused to show the world melted instantly with a flash of your smile. 

"jay…" your voice was barely above the wind in his ears, but it cut through nonetheless, grounded him back to the moment where your chin was tilting up towards his mouth. 

oh god, no

he cleared his throat and slid onto his back beside you. the clouds, bright and blinding against the warm blue, were the most interesting thing jason could look at right now. though his eyes were desperate to settle back onto you. 

he wouldn't give in. not yet at least. maybe not ever. you would never be his. 

a spiked ball made it's way down your throat, forcing, shoving, tearing down any words that were about to leave your mouth. the pressure between the two of you was bordering on unbearable. 

you were so close to kissing him. so close. his distance was necessary. you never should have gotten that close to jason — close enough that you had felt the cool air from his nose brush your cheeks. though, feeling him pull away stabbed your heart deeper than you cared to admit. 

"hey, jason?"

he hummed in confirmation

"what were you doing under my car for so long?" 

"what do you mean?"

"well, it was the valve that was leaking right? you said that's under the hood. why were you under my car for as long as you were? you were also inside, like under the steering wheel. what was that?" 

jason remained silent. he didn't have a good enough excuse that didn't make him sound like a fucking idiot. after finding the initial cause of your car problems, he found another, and then another. and then it turned into him fixing whatever he could with the equipment that he had on hand — anything to keep you in the shop a little longer. just a little longer. 

"you know, just stopping some fluid leaks, making sure nothing was rusting. the oil pan gasket is down there, and your transmission," he kept his eyes trained on the sky, hand resting under his head. the same hand that was under yours. the same one that was just gliding through your hair and oh how he wanted to grab onto the strands and— "oh, and your exhaust. that needed to be touched up. i actually put some paste on there so it should be good for now, but you'll need to come in again soon for me to actually fix it—" 

"jason," 

"yeah," his own rambling had caught him off guard, but the way his heart was practically beating out of his chest was getting increasingly harder to ignore. his heart was still beating wildly out of his chest from almost kissing you.

"what the hell does any of that even mean?" 

"basically, you had more work that needed to be done than just the valve," 

"what?" you sat up, your lips jutting out in a exasperated pout. "why didn't you tell me? you have to let me pay you." 

"like i said earlier, i owed tim," he responded, propping himself on his elbow to face you. the sun floated just above your head, bathing you in its ethereal glow. the rays caught on your hair, glittering the wild strands that were mussed from the grass. 

"yeah but not for all of that," 

"well. if you wanna repay me so bad, then you can," 

you nodded in relief. "okay. how much do i owe you then?" 

"i want you—" 

the shrill of your phone ringing in your back pocket cut jason off abruptly. in a way, he may have been relieved that he never got to finish his sentence. you. i want you. he wouldn't have been able to take them back, no matter how much he may have meant it.

too much. way too soon. 

"hey," you pressed your phone to your ear. your fingers absentmindedly picked at the strands of grass beneath your feet. 

"what time are you coming over?" tim's voice rang through the speaker. loud. jason cringed at the sound. 

"huh?" you shifted, sitting up a little straighter. right. tim and you had plans tonight. dinner tonight at the manor, upon bruce's insistence. on days that you and tim had planned to hang out, you usually ended up in the manor. it was more comfortable for you guys rather than your shitty apartment. 

"b's asking, alfred's already started on dinner," tim says, you cam practically see him shaking his head. "so, what time should i tell him? also, why is your location off. i tried to check if you were at home and it says 'location not found'" 

"oh uh, i don't know. i'm on a walk right now, i'll be there in 'bout an hour?" you were distracted. jason was just laying there still, beside you, pretending not to listen but you know he was. the twitch of his nose when tim had mentioned bruce had given him away. 

"''kay, perfect, see you, and fix your location," tim waited for your own farewell before hanging up the phone. you let your phone drop into your lap, falling back into the electrically charged quiet that seemed to continuously engulf yourself and jason. 

"tim?" jason mumbled. 

you nodded, a thick glob of saliva catching in our throat. "dinner at the manor tonight." 

right. jason knew that. dinner at the manor tonight, as bruce had said in the family group chat. 

he knew he had to drive you back, to let you go. you car was fixed now. it was over. your car was fixed, and you were gonna go back to your life now. the dream bubble, the rose coloured world that jason had been fantasizing with you was now grey. 

but he wouldn't complain. he would let you go. and maybe, he would get to see you again. 

﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒⭒﹒

the manor had been bustling upon your arrival. you still felt like you were in a daze from your earlier encounters with jason. 

he was… different. not what you had expected. 

your first impression of him might have been skewered by tim, and the front that jason put up. the glares, the stone mask that he wore — you saw the softness that lay beneath it all. 

you were currently at the dinner table — seated beside tim — though you could still feel the grass tickling your ankles and jason's steady weight on your chest. you had been so close to kissing him, barely a centimetre between you. 

"so your car is alright then?" bruce's voice brought you back from your dream. 

"hm? oh! yeah, it's all good," your shoulders squared, spine snapping straight. the smile that plastered across your face felt gooey. "jason—"

"—littlewing?" dick's voice rang out in shock, his gaze fixed above your head. a lull settled over the room as the rest of the party's attention followed dick's. you slowly turned your head, your breath catching at the sight. 

speak of the devil. 

jason. he had stood in the entryway of the dining hall — the same navy blue jeans, leather jacket stretched taut over his strong form. 

everyone's gaze were on him, but his were on you. 

"jason! what a pleasure," bruce smiled, standing in greeting. 

"why are you here?" tim blurted out. 

"for dinner?" jason deadpanned.

"yeah, but why?" 

"i'm part of the family, aren't i? do i need a reason to show up for family dinner?" 

"how did you know this was happening,"

you elbowed tim hard enough that he flinched. his fork clanged against his plate at the force of his knee hitting the table.

"i'm in the groupchat, dumbass," jason's eyes narrowed at tim, a scowl forming across his mouth. 

"—yes! you are, no you don't need a reason, and we are so happy you're here," bruce's voice cut in quickly, breaking the squabble. his tone directed at tim. he stood up as well to welcome jason into the room. 

"come sit, littlewing, alfred already set up a seat for you," dick's words barely registered in your mind. jason had looked different, smaller, younger. dick's hand patted the space next to him, across from you, the only empty seat. until now, that seat had always remained empty — set up with a plate, cutlery, and a glass — but empty. now you knew why. 

he took his spot, sliding comfortably into the seat and letting dick clap his shoulder in friendly greeting. jasons eyes shifted from dick, to bruce, and then to you. darker, pupils dilated, head tilted slightly to the side as he took in your appearance again. outfit less casual, your hair done in a way that he could tell you put effort into — though he thought your hair would have looked nice regardless how you wore it. 

jason's gaze was hungry. devouring, though it wasn't because of the food that was being served in front of him, but because of you. 

dinner continued without a hitch. the dymanic didn't change when jason arrived, it molded around him — like he had always been there. 

the conversion flowed between everyone, changing constantly from someone's interjection. the only thing that didn't change was jason's focus on you. when he spoke, when he wasn't speaking. it wasn't the whole time, but it was enough for you to notice it. to feel it burning into your face from where he sat directly in front of you. 

eventually, after the second course of dessert, you excused yourself to the washroom. 

a break was needed. 

while you had developed close relationships with all of tim's family members, they still managed to overwhelm you very easily. 

the washroom was a moment of repreive in the chaos that was confined within the walls of the manor. you could still hear the arguments, the debates, the loud voices that knew how to speak above one another. 

you took your time on the way back, slow measured steps that followed the dark lines of the mahogany flooring. you didn't hear the footsteps behind you, didn't sense the presence that lingered too closely behind you for just a second too long before wrapping an arm around you. 

a large hand covered your mouth, the other pulling your body into the opened doorway beside you. once your back was against the wall, you realized. 

jason. 

he was close again. body pressed up against yours intentionally. he was warm in a way that was devastating — a warmth that you so desperately wanted to sink into, but you knew you couldn't. 

"what are you—" your voice muffled against his hand, palm sliding against your cheek and cradling your head. 

"i should have kissed you earlier," his words cut you off, hanging in the space between your mouths. his gaze was fixed on your lips, centimetres away from yours. "i should have. i need to. been thinking about it since i met you, angel, fuck." 

he was practically pleading. his whispered words were shaking between his lips. 

please. please, let me kiss you. 

"we… jason, we can't," your voice was just as soft, hands exploring up his arms and onto his shoulders. broad and thick under your palms. the desperation was burning the room, a fever beginning to heat up your spine. 

"we… yeah," his forehead softly hit yours, eyes shutting tightly. his nostrils flared with restraint. his other hand tightened it's grip on your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

"they're gonna be looking for us, we need to—"

"fuck. i can't. i'm sorry," jason murmured, his snapping open to gaze at you one last time, there was a hint of apology swimming in his eyes, deep and longing beneath the surface. 

and then his lips met yours. 

an: I feel so evil leaving this chapter how I did

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