#what if I just. don’t do the second half of the set
Note
what about like a paige x reader like they met on vacation somewhere during a break and then they hooked up or something thinking they would never see eachother again but turns out reader is the new uconnwbb team manager
Naked in Manhattan . PB
pairing: paige bueckers x reader
synopsis: you were devastated to face the reality that you’d never get to see your one night stand while on vacation, but maybe the universe has other plans for you
new crush
high school love again
it was finally spring break. no more midterms or study sessions to worry about, just your feet in the sand and a drink in your hand. you and your roommates had planned a small trip to california to celebrate the hard work you’d all put in for the semester. nothing too extravagant, just a quaint beach house right off the coast to let all of your worries wash away.
it was beautiful, just big enough for the 4 of you. when you had arrived you were practically planning out everything you would be doing. a week of doing nothing but sitting on a soft towel, bathing in the sun, listening to the waves crash while you read your book sounded like heaven.
but your roommates had other plans for you. they had heard about a ‘beach bro party’, whatever the hell that was, that a local fraternity was throwing. anyone and every was was apparently invited. the second the raggedy flyer hit the cool marble counter tops of your air b&b, you knew any plans of relaxation were gone.
so there you were on your second night of vacation, crammed into the single bathroom with your roommates, doing your makeup and hair for this dumb party. if it weren’t for the girls begging you to come, you truly would have stayed behind. but they were too convincing and now you were here, shoving your boobs into the most uncomfortable bra known to man and dousing yourself in perfume.
after about 30 minutes at the frat party you were about ready to call it quits. the drinks were absolutely foul (you were sure it was straight acid) and the lights and heavy music were giving you a blaring headache. spring break was starting to feel less and less fun as you pretended to enjoy whatever the hell was going on in that house. you didn’t know anyone, your roommates had ditched you for some random frat guys, and you didn’t have the keys to get back home. in hopes that you could wait it out, you snuck off into a corner of the house, taking a seat on the cigarette smoke infused sofa.
you tried to distract yourself until at least one of your roommates was finished fucking around with a guy so you could leave. closing your eyes, fiddling with the frayed threads of your shorts, scrolling on your phone, nothing helped to kill the boredom. you were about ready to stand up and drag your friends out the door yourself until someone approached the couch, taking a seat next to you.
she had a drink in hand, half empty, still laughing about something someone shouted across the room. she was tall, blonde, and if you were being honest, smoking hot. you glanced at her briefly to try and study her face, trying not to make it too obvious. her hair was pulled back into a flattering ponytail, body clad in a black tshirt and jeans, teeth a sparkling white as you watched her smile and laugh. she was definitely your type.
but eventually, your stares began to linger a little bit too long and she caught you. her eyes meeting with yours just before you could turn away.
“you good?” she asked, setting her drink down the on coffee table.
“hm?” you asked, trying to sound oblivious “yea i’m fine”
“are you sure, cause you keep looking over here”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about” you felt her gaze linger on you, too nervous to make eye contact with her.
“yea,” she laughed, scoffing under her breath “sure you don’t”
“i’m serious, i think you’re a bit drunk cause i genuinely don’t”
“well i’m sober enough to know that you keep staring at me when im not looking soooo”
“why would i being staring at you, huh?” you retorted “a bit full of yourself?”
“maybe it’s because, i don’t know, you see something you like?” now she was just fucking with you. she had this stupid, lopsided grin on her face as she watched your jaw drop in offense.
“oh please”
“i don’t know,” she said “you hesitated there, think i’m right”
you resisted rolling your eyes “and so what? god forbid i look at an attractive woman? my bad”
“so you admit then?” she questioned “that’s why you were staring?”
“if that makes you feel better? then sure, yes that’s why i was staring” you bit your lip and watched as her tongue darted between her teeth, swiping her bottom lip. she eyed you up and down, eyes darkening.
“it actually does” she scooted closer to you, arm extending past you to lay across the back of the couch “what’s your name?”
“…YN” your breathe caught in your throat as her thigh came in contact with yours. “you?”
“paige”
The rush of slumber party kissing
somewhere in between the banter and the alcohol, paige’s tongue found its way down your throat. she had so politely invited you upstairs while her hands were already making their way up you shirt. you obliged and followed her upstairs to some abandoned bedroom while you tried to ignore the aching feeling between your legs.
the door gently clicked behind you as you shut it. when you turned around, paige was already pressing you against the wall. her lips finding their way to your neck and sucking lightly at the smooth skin. you audibly moaned, fingers automatically diving into her scalp and tugging lightly at her blonde locks.
you shuddered when you felt her fingers against the skin of your abdomen again, creeping their way up your shirt like they had previously. she stopped at the bottom of your bra as she pulled away from your neck.
“this ok?” she asked.
you hummed in response, nodding your head violently, taking her face in your hands to plant a passionate kiss on her lips. with little hesitation, she was already pulling your top over your head and unclasping your bra, hands desperately squeezing at your breasts as she backed you up towards the bed.
with lips still attached, the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed causing you to fall onto your back gently. paige followed and climbed atop your body, not letting her hands off of you.
out of breathe and wanting more, you pulled away, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. “can i?”
she didn’t need to hear anymore. the black piece of fabric was already being thrown to the floor, revealing her sports bra which you also tore off her. what a lovely sight to see, you thought.
not long after, both of your pants were discarded, then your panties, and then her boxers. she planted wet kisses down your abdomen, throwing your legs over her shoulders as she made herself comfortable between your thighs.
“is this crazy?” you panted. you managed to bite back a moan of pleasure to look down at her, seeing her look up at you with eyes blown with lust.
“maybe a little” she said “but i can’t help myself”
Don't touch, I'll never cross the line
So I pushed you down a million times
waves crashed against the shore outside, chatter of people walking by slithered past the window of this foreign room you were in. your head was throbbing as you rose from your slumber, you definitely had too much to drink.
shuffling sounded from the other side of the room, causing you to fully wake. you looked over, pulling up the sheets above your bare body, to see paige was already awake. she was almost completely dressed, buttoning up her pants and lacing up her sneakers.
“was i that bad?”
her head snapped in your direction, startled to hear your voice. part of her wanted you to say it again, liking the way the it groveled from the early hours of the morning.
“no” she laughed, offering a smile “you were amazing actually”
“you weren’t too bad yourself”
she was beginning to look around for her keys and wallet, seemingly ignoring you as you remained in bed, still naked and vulnerable.
your brain was screaming at you, begging you to call out to her. part of you wanted to ask for her number, ask for her to stay with you. but the other part of you knew what this was, this wasn’t a date or anything serious. sure, you had developed a liking to paige over the course of the night you spent together. how could you not? she absolutely worshipped you, made you erupt with pleasure, was so sweet to you. this wasn’t something you wanted to let go. but it was unrealistic, you lived miles away from here in another state and paige most definitely had her own things to worry about. pursuing her was not in your cards.
so you kept your mouth shut, watching her shove her keys into her pocket. you assumed she’d just walk out, mutter a goodbye and leave, but she paused and turned to you.
“i-uh, don’t normally do things like that” she said, trying not to look at the outline of your body beneath the duvet “but i wanted to say thanks. i know that that’s cringe, but it’s true. you were…unforgettable”
you could tell she was going through the same thing. mind swamped with conflicting emotions, wanting to stay to see how this played out but also forcing herself to be realistic.
“you too” you gave her a bittersweet smile.
she just nodded at you before heading to the door, fingers wrapping around the cold metal handle.
“bye, YN”
“bye, paige”
and just like that, she was gone. maybe in another lifetime you’d get more time.
I'd love if you knew you were on my mind
Constant like cicadas in the summertime
every since that morning, paige had invaded your thoughts. the remaining time you had on vacation was spent obsessing over what could have been, what might have happened if you just asked for her number. spring break didn’t even seem fun anymore. you didn’t join your friends as they explored the shops in the city or attend anymore parties they managed to scope out. instead you went to the beach, like you originally intended, letting your mind wander as you listened to the ocean. something in you wished that the nagging feeling would eventually go away.
it never did though. even after break was long over, all of you heading home and resuming your schoolwork, she was still on your mind. it made it difficult to do anything. getting homework done, attending lectures, going out on weekends. it was useless because all you could think about was paige. your heart ached as daydreams of her consumed you.
back at UCONN you were doing your best to keep motivated. trying to rid your mind of a foolish dream that you knew was never going to come true. you tried joining clubs and making new friends just to distract yourself. you had even gone so far as to get a new job for the university, taking on the position as the assist team manager for their women’s basketball team. it was a perfect match: you, someone with a general liking and background for basketball who needed to get her life back in order, and a team who was thriving and needed all the help they could get.
Boys suck and girls I've never tried
And we both know we're getting drunk tonight
you woke up at 6:00 am on the dot. it was going to be your first day on the job and you wouldn’t be caught looking unpresentable, so you made sure to give yourself time to get ready.
it was a lovely day as you stepped outside of your apartment building. birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the traffic was light enough that it didn’t give you a migraine. you made the decision to walk to work, let your thoughts dissipate as you tried to enjoy a relaxing morning.
the walk, like you had hoped, was freeing. you didn’t feel as anxious anymore as you walked into the building, ready to tackle the trials of the day. being the new girl, you had to go through all the new orientation material. get your ID picture taken, fill out some paperwork, the whole process. then it was time to meet with geno and the rest of the management crew.
“you must be YN” he shook your hand firmly “it’s nice to meet you”
“the pleasure is all my mine” you grinned. you made your way around the room, introducing yourself to any unfamiliar faces and learning more about what the job would entail. after some light mingling, geno found you again.
“the girls are out there warming up right now, are you ready to get acquainted with team?”
“definitely”
shoes squeaked against the glossy gym floor, heavy breathing filled the room as you followed geno into the gym. you watched as the girls made shots, passed the ball, and ran drills with ease. it was quite impressive. geno had hollered for them to gather upon your entrance, signaling for them to form a circle so he could introduce you.
you stood timidly next to him, watching the girls round up. trying to inspect each girl carefully as they approached the huddle. they all looked extremely kind. a few offered you a smile or a wave and you smiled in return.
then, as geno began talking, the final few girls joined the group. the last girl in particular had grabbed your attention. you couldn’t see her face very well, only able to catch glimpses of her as she pushed her way through to the front. but when she emerged past the front row, your heart skipped a beat and your breathe caught in your throat. you wouldn’t miss that familiar blonde in a thousand years.
“this is going to be the newest member of the team,” geno stepped aside, putting you on the spotlight “YN, she’s our new assistant team manager. i expect you all to get to know each other and play nice. i’m looking at you paige”
it hadn’t felt real until you heard her name. like it was ingrained in your mind, you finally found the courage to lock eyes with her. there she was in all her glory, staring back at you in disbelief. while everyone else laughed at geno’s innocent joke, greeting you briefly before heading back to their warmups, you and paige remained frozen. she stood across from you, confused expression on her face. you felt like you couldn’t move, like you couldn’t breathe.
“YN” her voice was barely above a whisper.
“paige”
she looked over her shoulder, assessing to see if anyone was paying attention before walking over to you. paige lightly grabbed your forearm, leading you off the gym floor and into a more secluded corner of the building. you had to admit, it only took that one touch to make your heart start racing again.
“what are you doing here?” she asked, now that you were in a private area.
“what am i doing here?” you asked in return “what are you doing here?”
“well obviously i play basketball here”
“ok smart ass,” you rolled your eyes, she hadn’t changed much “i just meant that i had no idea you were going to be here”
“i thought you knew” she breathed “when we met, i thought you knew who i was. i thought that’s why you were staring at me that night”
“of course i didn’t know!” you were unsure what to say.
“have you really been at UCONN this whole time?” she continued “oh my god this is insane”
“what are the odds, right?”
“i thought i’d never see you again”
“me neither” you said before an uncomfortable silence fell between you. nor you or paige had ever expected to see each other again, accepting your fate that you would evidently go your separate ways.
“so what now?” she asked.
“would you…i don’t know what to get a drink or something?” a poor attempt at asking her out “that sounded really fucking dumb, but i’d like to catch up”
“yea,” she scratched the back of neck, trying to hide the goofy smile that formed on her lips “i’d like that”
Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine
Could go to hell but we'll probably be fine
the dress you were wearing was practically suffocating you. neckline scratching your chest, straps digging into your shoulders, hemline riding up your thighs every time you moved. the bar stool you sat at was of no comfort, either. you shifted uncomfortably as you looked around the bar, waiting for any sign of paige. you had made plans for the weekend to meet up so you could make up for lost time.
the night was beginning to drag on and it was getting awfully close to 8:00 pm. you hoped she wasn’t going to stand you up. but, as if on cue, the door to the bar opened revealing a very exasperated paige. she spotted you there, alone with a drink already in front of you.
“hey i’m so sorry” she apologized for her near tardiness “traffic was a bitch”
“it’s ok, was just worried you’d stand me up” you joked.
“i wouldn’t miss it for the world”
you blushed, looking down at your drink. paige ordered one of her own before finally settling in the seat next to yours. you didn’t think she could look anymore beautiful, seeing her there with her hair cascading around her face and dressed in neat clothing. she eyed you carefully, it was starting to seem like a habit the way she kept sneaking glances at you.
“you look beautiful” she chewed on the inside of her cheek.
“stop” you laughed.
“no really” she shook her head, swallowing deeply “i mean it, you’re breath taking”
“well thank you, and thanks for agreeing to go out tonight. i’ll be honest…i’ve been thinking about you…like a lot”
“i’ve been thinking about you too” her demeanor started to shift “i really regretted just walking out that night. i was in my head and i just assumed that we’d be going our separate ways”
“i don’t blame you, i was too” you tired to offer consolation “i mean who would have assumed that we both went to the same school and just happened to vacation in the same place?”
she laughed at that, finally giving you a relaxed and genuine smile.
“a crazy coincidence…i’m really really happy you’re here, YN. this just doesn’t feel real”
“i glad i’m here too” you felt like a weight was lifted off your chest, no more wondering about who paige was or what she did. you knew now, she was here with you.
hours went by as you and paige reveled in conversation, spilling every detail, every story, every memory of your lives. it felt like this was meant to be, that the universe had purposely aligned yours and paige’s path. it felt so natural to talk to her. she was easy going and funny, she was an attentive listener and laughed at all your jokes. it was unbelievable that you found her again and you were more than grateful.
“would you-i don’t know, maybe this is too forward” paige began, gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips as you were finishing up your drinks “would you want to come back to my apartment?…i don’t want this night to end”
“i would love that” you blurted with urgency, butterflies forming in your stomach.
she nodded, not even bothering to respond. her hand came in contact with yours as she paid your tab and dragged you out of the bar.
cold air nipped at your bare skin as you walked with paige to her car. she politely opened the door for you, helping you in. the drive to her place wasn’t long at all, but you had noticed she was right, traffic was a bitch. but her music taste was impeccable and you had plenty to talk about so the drive didn’t feel excessive at all.
when you arrived at her apartment, she pulled out her keys to unlock the door, hinges creaking as she led you inside. it was a perfect little apartment from what you could see. it was warm and cozy, definitely well loved, and you thought it fit her perfectly. she turned on the lights and told you to take a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable.
paige sat next you, leaving a few inches between you two. the distance and the dimly lit room took you back to spring break. it felt like you never left.
“i like your place,” you commented “it suits yo-”
“can i kiss you?”
“what?”
“please” she closed the gap between you, scooting closer to you just like before “i don’t think i can sit here, replaying that night in my head over and over and not know what it feels like to have your lips on mine again”
you let out a breathe, not realizing you had been holding it in the first place. she looked desperate, leaning into you, hands making their way up to cradle your jaw. her fingers caressed the curve of your chin, fingers hooking underneath to pull you in. but she stopped, painfully waiting for your response.
“yes” you said “please, please kiss me already”
so she did, teeth clashing with yours in haste, pulling you into her without a second thought.
I know you want it, baby, you can have it
your discarded clothes made a messy trail down the hallway to paige’s bedroom. your shirt crumpled on the couch, belt slung over the stair railings, bra tossed onto the end of her bed. her clothes followed, making a pile on the floor. your hands were buried in her hair as she nibbled at your ear, then kissing down to your collarbone. the room was silent all except for your breathy moans and the disgustingly erotic, wet sounds from paige’s lips.
it was needy, it was passionate, and it was absolutely perfect. the way her body fit with yours like a puzzle, it was written in the stars.
Oh, I've never done it, let's make it cinematic
Like that one sex scene that's in Mulholland Drive
it could’ve been a scene from a movie. something you’d watch as teenage girl, when you’re at a slumber party with your friends and someone snuck in an R rated movie. and you’d all watch it, gasping and giggling when the actors would start to take of their clothes. you would stare at the screen while everyone was pretending to gag and freaking out, shutting it off before it got too intense, but all you could think about what how beautiful it was. that those two people loved each other so much that it was like fireworks going off, every touch and every word muttered served as a declaration of love.
that’s what it was like with paige. it was like that movie had come to life. everything about it was like something from a fantasy.
the satin sheets bunched around paige’s hips as she worshipped you. the gentle whimpering in your ear as she rutted into you. your not so gentle moans as you came undone around her fingers. how the room was hot and humid from your pure passion.
all of it was pure magnificence.
I wanna know, baby, what is it like?
I know you want it, baby, you can have it
you awoke the next morning, sunshine filtering in through smoggy clouds. paige began to stir next to you, arms finding their way from under the blanket to the bareness of your torso where she traced meaningless shapes into your skin.
“good morning” she muttered into the pillow, still fighting off sleep.
“morning” you beamed, watching her eyes flutter open “how’d you sleep?”
“better than i ever have”
you yawned with a lopsided grin, soaking in her elegance as she sat up to stretch. the world might as well have just stopped from the way she looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered.
“hey paige?”
“hm?”
Oh, I've never done it,
“please don’t let me go this time”
naked in Manhattan
“i won’t” she replied “never again”
#wcbb#wcbb x reader#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#foreingersgod#chappell roan
225 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mr. Know It All
Pairing: Taehyun x Reader
Summary: When you finally find yourself sleeping over at Taehyun’s dorm, you start to wonder if you and him could ever be something more serious.
Tropes: friends with benefits, mutual pining, angst, fluff, college AU, tutor!taehyun
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), LOTS of overthinking
A/N: This is unedited and I wrote it all in one go lol <3
"And the songbirds are singing
Like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before"
—Songbird, Fleetwood Mac
Taehyun doesn’t know how to tell you that things aren't and never have been casual between the two of you.
It started one rainy afternoon after a study session in the library. The two of you had run through the deluge into the safety of his dorm room, and when he peeled off his wet clothes to change, you didn’t look away.
So, one semester later, right after you’ve finished moaning his name, he struggles to find the words to ask you to stay the night.
He hates watching you gather up your things and leave, refusing to be held by him for even a moment after both of you have finished what you came here for.
“Y/N,” he manages to get out, his voice barely above a whisper. You turn away from the door, your hair still messy, eyeliner smudged. “It’s raining.”
It’s code for “I love you. Please don’t leave.”
“Right,” you say, glancing out the window. Lightning flashes throughout the small dorm, with the crash of thunder following shortly after. Only a fool would leave in this weather. “I don’t have an umbrella.”
“You can stay,” Taehyun says, patting the bed beside him. You nod, crossing over and settling under the warm blanket. Despite how often you’re here in this position, it’s never under these circumstances.
“It seems like the rain is always bringing us together,” you laugh. You’re careful not to say anything loud enough for his roommate to hear through the walls, although in retrospect, you’ve never considered your volume when in bed with Taehyun before.
It’s awkward. Before any of this started, he was just the guy who helped you out with your math problem sets. Add in the perfect distraction from actually sitting down and having a conversation with each other, and you barely knew anything about him.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he offers, already sliding off of the twin sized mattress with a pillow in his arms. “I don’t want to bother you.”
You note how between sleeping next to you and on the floor, he’s decided that the latter is more bearable.
Usually, the two of you are in perfect sync. He knows how to please you better than any other guy you’ve been with, making sure to do things the exact way that you like. Sometimes, you worry that he doesn’t think the same of you.
Are there other girls? You don’t see him as often as you’d like to, but maybe he’s just busy with other things. Kang Taehyun, the chronic overachiever and golden boy of SNU. What would he even want with a girl like you?
Surely, he spends all of his free time studying and going to band practice, you tell yourself.
At this point, your racing thoughts are never going to let you fall asleep.
“Taehyun,” you say, hoping you aren’t waking him up. You haven’t taken your eyes off the ceiling since he moved to the floor, half out of guilt that he’s even down there, and half worried you’ll catch yourself staring at him while he sleeps.
“Yeah?” he answers, his voice low. You wonder what it sounds like when he sings with his band. Maybe, if he asks you to, you’ll go to one of his concerts soon.
You hesitate, wondering whether or not he’ll say yes. “Can you come back up here?”
When you hear him gather his things and stand up, you finally let out the breath that you've been holding. Within seconds, he’s climbing in next to you, his body warm and strong.
“Are you cold?” he asks, pulling the covers up over your collarbone. “Sorry. I think the heater is broken and I haven’t had time to call maintenance.”
“Yeah, it’s a little chilly,” you confirm, although the temperature is fine. In fact, it might even be a little too hot.
“I can, uh,” Taehyun starts. You’ve never heard him stutter before. “I can hold you, if you want. That might help.”
“That would be nice,” you say, mentally cringing at how formal the exchange is. He positions himself behind you, snaking his arm around your waist and pressing his chest against your back.
“Is this better?” he asks, his voice still shaky. You worry that this level of intimacy is making him uncomfortable, but he nestles his head over your shoulder in a way that makes you finally stop overthinking. Maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do.
“Yes,” is all you manage to squeak out. He lets out a quiet laugh in relief before pressing a kiss into your shoulder blade. The small gesture sends a shockwave through your body.
“You’re cute,” he says, snuggling into you further. Is this really what things would be like if you didn’t run away after every hook up? It seems like second nature to him, making you question whether it actually means anything.
Still, he doesn’t bother to touch you now like he’s always dying to after you show up to class in a short skirt or send him a risky text when you know he’s running office hours.
“I can hear you thinking,” he mutters, startling you. You break away from his grasp to turn and face him, his piercing eyes already fixed on you. “Is something wrong, Y/N?”
“No,” you attempt to lie, although your face says otherwise. Taehyun feels you stiffen in his arms, your gaze locked on his.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he concedes, his voice icy and monotone. “But I know something is wrong.”
How could he know that? What could Taehyun possibly know about you besides what you look like with your clothes off?
When he first got assigned to tutor you, he had scolded you for being late, and again for being unorganized. If you don’t open up to him now, he might actually revert to the same cold demeanor as before.
Even worse, he might stop meeting up with you. With the school year ending next month, you’ll have no excuse to see each other anymore. The thought of being alone again brings you to tears.
Taehyun’s expression softens at the sight of you breaking down. “I’m sorry,” you cry, burying your face into his chest. His hand reaches up to stroke your hair, the other gently rubbing your back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.”
“I do,” he sighs. You pull back just enough to look up at him through teary eyes. “I pushed things between us too far. I should’ve known that you wanted to keep things casual. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You stare at him, awestruck at how wrong he is. You want nothing more than to know anything and everything about him.
Still, when you search for the right words to explain this, your brain draws a blank. The only thing you can do is cup his face and kiss him, your nerves finally settling when he melts into you.
You’ve kissed him hundreds of times by now, but this one feels like the first time.
It feels like forever before he pulls away from you, a wide grin on his face. “Please, please, please let me take you out to dinner.”
“Okay,” you smile back, unable to contain your giddiness. “I’d like that very much.”
“Tomorrow night?” he proposes. His eagerness makes you giggle. He might be the busiest person on campus, but he’ll clear his entire schedule if it means he gets to spend time with you.
“Sure,” you agree. “It’s a date. If we ever manage to get out of bed, that is.”
Taehyun laughs a little before pulling you into another kiss. By now, the rain has stopped, but you aren’t going anywhere.
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9 @baekberrie
P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to make a note <3
#txt#tomorrow x together#txt imagines#txt fic#txt x reader#taehyun x reader#taehyun#kang taehyun#txt taehyun#taehyun fluff#taehyun smut#taehyun angst#txt fluff#txt angst#txt smut#taehyun imagines
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Age Is Just A Number (It Shouldn't Hold You Back) (Alex Morgan x Reader)
If there was one thing you didn't expect when you joined the USWNT, it was to develop a relationship with Alex Morgan, one that consisted of playful teasing and flirting. Despite the fact that she was ten years your senior, something she continuously reminded you of, you couldn't help but fall for her, age be damned, now if only Alex felt the same way.
Your tongue swipes along your lips as you watch Alex Morgan move to her feet, the woman’s uniform now drenched thanks to the waterlogged pitch you were being forced to play on in the semifinals against Canada in the Women’s Gold Cup.
You move past her, a smirk on your face.
“Looking good, as always Morgan.” You tease, and she rolls her eyes, giving you a playful shove as you all gather in the box for the incoming corner kick.
“Shut up.” She shakes her head, though she can’t bite back a smile.
You lick your lips, watching as Rose Lavelle sets up the corner kick, her hand held high in the air as she prepares to fire the ball.
The second the ball leaves her foot you know it’s yours, your teammates covered by the Canadian players.
You leap into the air, using your height to your advantage, jumping high above the Canadian players defending you, the ball ricocheting of your head and inches past Kailen Sheridan’s gloved hands.
You again jump into the air, throwing a fist above your head as your teammates surround you, ruffling your hair.
Rose jumps into your arms, and you lift her in the air before twirling.
“Nice corner as always Rosie.” You say, the woman giggling.
You turn towards Alex, a smirk stretching across your face.
“Are you impressed yet?” You flirt and she snorts, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“It WAS an impressive header.” She says and you snicker.
“Don’t worry, you’ll fall for me soon.” You wink and she giggles, her cheeks flushing slightly as she makes her way towards her place on the field, ready to put the ball back into play.
***********************************************************************
The whistle blows and you sigh in relief, your clothes sticking to your body considering the rain had started back up towards the end of the second half.
A number of your teammates jog your way, Emily Sonnett in particular jumping on your back.
“Way to use your freakish tallness to take us through to the finalssss!” Emily says, her chin resting on the top of your head and you snort.
“I knew it was good for SOMETHING.” You snicker as the woman slides of your back before sprinting towards Lindsey and Rose.
Meanwhile, you make your way towards Alex, a smirk stretching across your face.
“So, what did you think of my performance?” You ask and she shakes her head.
“Ehhh.” She says and you throw your head back with a groan.
Alex nudges you with her hip.
“I’m kidding, you did great.”
You smile, throwing your arm around her middle, giving her side a squeeze, something that makes her cheeks flush.
“I do have to admit...” You say, leaning towards her, the proximity between you making her cheeks darken.
“I really like seeing you all wet.” You wink and she gives you a shove.
“Stop it.” She says, sticking her tongue out.
“I already told you, I’m too old for you.” She says exasperatedly and you shrug.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” You bite your bottom lip, noting the way Alex’s throat bobs.
“Y/N?” You turn, smiling when you see that you’re being waved over for an interview.
You back away from Alex, your eyes raking down her front, your tongue swiping at your lips.
“I think you’re JUST the right age for me.” You smirk, sending her another wink before jogging towards the waiting analyst.
Alex groans, rolling her eyes.
Despite the fact that Alex had told you multiple times that she was far too old for you, you continued to flirt relentlessly.
In all honesty, she HAD thought about it, but she knew you should be with someone your own age, not someone 10 years your senior.
“Mommyyyy!”
Alex smiles scooping Charlie up in her arms as she darts across the field, her little arms wrapping around her neck.
Not only was she 10 years your senior, but a mother as well, meaning her number one priority was Charlie, and would always be Charlie.
Across the field, you watch the pair with a soft smile.
“Jesus Christ, do you ever think of ANYTHING else?” Emily asks, throwing an arm around you and you grin.
“Hey, you can’t blame me for trying.” You smirk, unable to take your eyes off the forward as she makes the way around the field, Charlie in her arms.
“I mean, Alex IS milf material.” Emily shrugs, not realizing Kelley was standing behind her.
“I’m totally going to tell her you said that.” The older woman snickers and Emily’s eyes widen, her cheeks flushing.
“You wouldn’t dare...!” She says, chasing after Kelley as she sprints towards Alex.
You shake your head as you turn, shaking your opponent’s waiting hands.
You knew deep down you probably never had a chance with Alex Morgan, but there was no harm in flirting, was there?
************************************************************************
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were falling for me.” You tease as you hoist Alex to her feet after she goes down at practice.
Alex’s blue orbs widen when you reach towards her face, delicately brushing a piece of grass off her forehead.
She’s unable to stop her breath from hitching when your fingertips lightly graze her jawline, your eyes holding a softness she hadn’t seen all that often.
You clear your throat, your cheeks flushing as your bravado completely shifts, a cocky grin stretching across your face.
You send her a wink before making your back to your position on the field.
Alex’s throat bobs as you lift your shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from your face, revealing the chiseled muscle that hid beneath your shirt.
“Jan, you’ve got some drool on your chin.” Kelley teases as she jogs passed, earning a glare from the seasoned forward.
“I do not.” She grumbles and Kelley snorts.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Alex turns away with a growl, again finding you on the field as you sprint towards Emily Sonnett, sliding in and swiping the ball from her, the blonde playfully nudging you on her way by.
Watching the interaction makes something stir within Alex, her blue orbs narrowing as she glares at the blonde.
She clears her throat, giving her head a shake before making her way down field and back into the scrimmage, putting whatever was churning in her stomach at the back of her mind.
************************************************************************
The more she saw you and Emily interact, the more her stomach churned, it didn’t take her long to realize exactly what she was feeling.
It was jealousy.
She tried her best to ignore it, but it continued to rear its ugly head.
It was then she realized she needed to put distance between the two of you, she had to ignore what she was feeling, you deserved someone your own age, not someone 10 years older than you.
It was in that moment she decided she had to put distance between the two of you, she had to ignore your constant flirting, she had to avoid you, she had to stop the feeling in her chest when she saw you with Emily Sonnett.
************************************************************************
“Looking good as always Morgan.” You wink as the huddle breaks, your eyes widening when Alex completely ignores you and turns away, jogging onto the field.
You frown, your brows knitted in confusion.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Emily asks, her hand resting on your back.
You shake your head.
“N-Nothing.” You mumble, slowly making your way towards the bench.
Maybe she hadn’t heard you?
Maybe she was so focused on the game that she just forgot to respond?
Whatever it was, it made your heart ache.
The whistle blows and you jump, pulled out of your thoughts when the fans cheer and the game ultimately starts.
************************************************************************
When the halftime whistle blows, you jog towards Alex, her throat visibly bobbing.
“Showing off for me?" You tease, screeching to a halt when Alex silently walks past you, in no way acknowledging your presence.
It was then you realize that she HAD heard you earlier, she'd just chose to ignore you, something that tears your heart in two.
“Why the long face?” Emily asks as she slings her arm around your shoulders, your frown deepening.
“Alex is ignoring me...” You mumble sadly, Emily’s brows furrow.
“Did something happen between the two of you?” She asks and you shake your head, the two of you making your way towards the locker room.
“Not that I know of.” You say, Emily humming.
“Maybe she’s just focused on the game?” She says, her head cocked to the side, and you shrug dejectedly.
“Yeah, maybe.”
************************************************************************
It turns out, Alex’s refusal to talk to you had absolutely nothing to do with the game considering once you’d gotten onto the bus, when you even looked in her direction, she turned away, shoving her air pods in her ears.
Your shoulders hunch as you drop down into an empty seat, your head hanging sadly.
“Hey, what’s wrong kid?” Kelley asks, rubbing your back on her way by and you shake your head.
“Nothing.”
Kelley scoffs, flopping down in the seat beside you.
“That’s bullshit.” She says and you sigh deeply.
“Alex won’t talk to me, and I don’t know why.” You mumble sadly, Kelley’s eyes narrowing, her brows furrow.
“When did that start?” She asks, her brown orbs darting from you to the back of Alex’s head and back.
“Today.” You swallow hard, wiggling in your seat.
“Do you want me to talk to her?” Kelley asks, your eyes widening in horror as you turn abruptly towards her.
“Please don’t, maybe she just wants space, I don’t know.” You shrug, Kelley studying your face for a moment before nodding.
“Okay kid, but if you want me to, let me know.” She says, ruffling your hair, which makes you smile.
“I will.”
Kelley makes her way towards the back of the bus, taking a seat beside Emily.
“Do you know what’s going on with Alex and Y/N?” She asks the blonde shrugging.
“Y/N just said she’s ignoring her.”
Kelley hums, her brown orbs staring holes in the back of Alex’s head.
She had no idea why Alex’s was ignoring you, but she intended to find out.
************************************************************************
“What’s going on between you and Y/N?” Kelley asks that night when Alex makes her way into the room after taking a shower, the woman stiffening.
“N-Nothing.” She says nonchalantly, refusing to look at the defender whose eyes narrow.
“Emily said she tried to talk to you and that you ignored her.”
Alex’s throat bobs, something her friend takes note of.
“I-I just didn’t hear her.” She says, the excuse lame, even to her own ears.
Kelley hums, eyeing the woman intently.
“Well, it really upset her.” She comments, the thought of you being upset making her stomach lurch.
“Oh, I didn’t realize.”
Kelley hums, turning to her phone when it chimes, busying herself with whatever is on its screen.
Alex turns away, her gaze falling to her lap.
She knew it would be better for the both of you if you didn’t speak to one another at all.
If you spoke again, the flirting would start back up and she wasn’t sure if she could handle that, not with the feelings currently stirring in her chest at just the thought of you.
Alex takes a deep breath, laying back in bed, her head resting against the hotel’s pillows.
She was convinced she was making the right decision, you deserved someone your own age, and that obviously wasn’t her.
************************************************************************
Unfortunately for you, the remainder of your time spent together is much of the same, you attempting to speak to Alex, and Alex completely ignoring you.
Needless to say, when you went home to Gotham FC, your tail was firmly trapped between your legs.
“Come on kid, cheer up.” Kelley says as she slings an arm around your middle.
You whine.
“I just don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble sadly, Kelley frowning.
“I don’t think you actually did anything wrong...” She sighs, running a hand down your back.
“What do you mean?” You ask, your head cocked to the side, brows knitted in confusion.
“Whatever is going on, it’s on her end, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Your eyes widen, a small smile ticking the corners of your mouth upward.
“Really?” You whisper the older woman pulling you in and giving you a squeeze.
“Really.” She says, her brown orbs widening at the sound of a whistle blowing.
“That’s our queue.” She says as she darts across the field, twisting on her heels midway.
“Just, don’t let it get to you, okay?” She smiles and you nod, jogging after her, hopeful that practice would take your mind off of the San Diego Wave captain.
************************************************************************
Your mind isn’t off of Alex Morgan long considering Gotham FC and San Diego Wave go head-to-head in a clash at Red Bull Arena soon after the international break.
Much like she had during the Gold Cup, Alex refused to acknowledge your presence, avoiding you as much as possible, the only close contact you made with her being on the field.
It’s only after the game that Alex approaches you, your heart stalling in your chest, the thought that the woman may acknowledge your presence making your heart race.
That’s until she actually gets to you, her blue orbs darting to your Y/E/C’s before she turns away.
“Good game.” She mumbles, refusing your outstretched hand and continuing to make her way around the field.
You stay rooted in place, tears stinging your eyes as you watch Alex walk away.
Unbeknownst to you, Kelley O’Hara and Emily Sonnett had witnessed the exchange and needless to say, they were FAR from happy.
“What the hell was that about?” Emily asks Kelley before jogging towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind, pushing herself up on her tiptoes so her chin can rest on your shoulder.
“It’s okay.” She whispers in your ear, frowning when you turn in her hold, revealing the tears glistening in your Y/E/C eyes.
Emily holds you tightly, shooting a glare over your shoulder at Alex when she catches her blue orbs.
That’s not all she sees, however.
She also sees Kelley stomping her way towards Alex, Alex’s eyes widening when she sees the look of anger on Kelley O’Hara’s face.
“What’s--
“What’s your problem?” Kelley growls, the San Diego captain’s brows arching.
“What do you mean?” She asks, dumbly and Kelley scoffs.
“You know what I mean Jan, look at her.” She motions behind her at you, Emily’s arm wrapped tightly around your middle, the woman catching sight of the tears on your cheeks as the blonde guides you towards the benches, her hazel orbs narrowed as they meet Alex’s blues.
“Do you even care about what you’re doing to her?” Kelley asks, Alex’s gaze falling to her feet, unable to look at the defender standing in front of her.
“Of course I care.” She whispers and Kelley shakes her head.
“It REALLY looks like it.” She growls, stepping closer to Alex, her voice dropping below a whisper.
“The sooner you accept what you’re feeling for her, the sooner you’ll both be happy.”
Alex’s head snaps upward, her eyes locking with Kelley’s.
“I don’t have feelings for her.” She mumbles and Kelley scoffs, rolling her eyes.
“That’s why you’re pushing her away, isn’t it?” She asks but gets no response.
“You know, your age doesn’t matter.” She says, noting the bob of Alex’s throat.
“It does Kel.” She mutters and Kelley rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, only to you, no one else cares Al.” She shakes her head and Alex’s nostrils flare.
“I’m a mom Kelley, I have more than just screwing around on my mind.”
Kelley groans.
“You do realize, it isn’t JUST about screwing around for her, right?” She asks, Alex’s brows knitting in confusion.
Kelley pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Her bravado is all an act Jan; she only acts that way because she’s afraid of facing her real feelings for you.” She sighs deeply, watching as realization dawns on Alex’s face.
It’s then that she spots you across the field, Charlie racing towards you, wrapping her tiny arms around your legs.
Almost immediately, you lift her into the air with a small smile, giving her a playful spin, the little girl giggling wildly.
“Oh.” Alex whispers, and Kelley snorts.
“Yeah, oh.” She says with an annoyed eye roll.
“Now, fix it.” She says before making her way towards the sidelines where her teammates have gathered.
Alex turns back to you, her blue orbs catching your Y/E/C’s, the smile that graced your face shifting to a small frown as you slowly place Charlie on the ground and nod in Alex’s direction, the little girl sprinting towards her mother.
It was in that moment, as you turned away from her, that she knew she had to fix it.
***********************************************************************
When you shuffled through your apartment that night, you were exhausted, not only from the physical exertion on the game, but emotionally as well.
You never expected for Alex to ignore you directly to your face, but she did, and that fact made your heart ache.
You still didn’t know what you did wrong, maybe you’d come off too strongly with your flirting?
Maybe she’d finally realized that your bravado was only for show, used to mask your true feelings for the older woman.
You flop down on your couch’s surface, your eyes fluttering shut, hopeful that sleep would take you momentarily.
Just as you’re on the cusp of sleep, however, a light tapping makes your eyes flutter, open your brows furrowed in confusion.
It isn’t long before the light taps repeat, and it’s then you realize that someone is knocking on your apartment door.
You reluctantly leave your place on the couch before shuffling to the door and leaning against it.
“Who is it?” You ask, your voice scratchy.
You listen intently, a soft shuffling behind the door before a soft voice replies.
“It’s Alex.”
Silence envelopes the two of you before you slowly open the door, your brows furrowed as you peer through the crack, coming face to face with the woman who had been avoiding you for months.
You pull the door the rest of the way open, your eyes studying Alex’s face intently, the woman shuffling nervously from foot to foot.
“I’m sorry.” She suddenly blurts out, your eyes widening as Alex’s blue orbs remain focused on the floor.
You find yourself taking a step to the side moments later, waving your arm, beckoning her to enter your apartment, something that she almost instantly does.
Your throat bobs as you push the door shut behind her, your back to the older woman.
You knew whatever was about to happen, there was no going back, but now you had no choice, you had to face Alex Morgan, you had to find out what was going on between the two of you.
Your breath catches in your throat when a pair of arms wrap around you from behind, your heart racing when you feel Alex bury her face between your shoulder blades.
You stiffen, unsure of what you should do, did you cover Alex’s hands with your own, or did you push her away?
Subconsciously, your hands drift to Alex’s gently resting on top of hers, the woman sighing against your back.
“I’m sorry I was so stupid.” She whispers, nuzzling against your back.
Your heart swells in your chest, the feeling of her pressed against your back everything you’ve ever wanted and more.
“Why did you ignore me...?” You ask, humming when Alex pushes her fingers between your own.
“I was jealous.” She mumbles against your back, your brows furrowing as you turn in her hold.
“Of what?” You ask, your hands finding their way to Alex’s waist.
She shrugs, her breath hitching when you gently take her chin between your thumb and index finger.
Her mouth opens and closes repeatedly before she sighs loudly.
“Seeing you with Emily, I couldn’t help but think you deserved someone your own age.” She whispers and you shake your head, Alex’s breath hitching when you turn the tables, pressing her back against your apartment door.
“I don’t want anyone my own age, I want you.” You whisper, Alex’s throat bobbing as her eyes dart from your Y/E/C orbs to your lips and back.
Much to your surprise, she lunges forwards, her lips meeting yours in a tender, and long overdue kiss.
You kiss back without hesitation, your palms resting on the wall on either side of Alex’s head as you kiss softly.
Alex’s hands slip to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair as you kiss passionately.
You’re unable to stop yourself from chuckling when you pull back, the woman pinned to the wall whining loudly as you bury your face in her neck, nuzzling her jawline.
“Our first kiss and you’re already addicted.” You tease, earning an eye roll.
“Shut up.” She mumbles before pulling you back in for another kiss.
Eventually, you make your way to the couch, Alex’s pinned beneath you as you kiss softly, giggling loudly when you bury your face in her neck, peppering her flesh with kisses.
You pull back reluctantly, your eyes locking with Alex’s bright blue orbs.
She smiles softly when you lean in, kissing her lips over and over again until she starts laughing.
It isn’t long before you’re lowering yourself on top of her, her legs spread as you rest your head against her chest, the woman drawing small patterns against your back.
You nuzzle into the crook of her neck, your eyes fluttering shut as your heart rate slows, your earlier exhaustion making itself known.
“What does this mean for us...?” You slur, unable to fight your fluttering eyelids as they close.
Alex hums, her lips parting to answer, that is until she realizes you’d drifted off.
She holds you tightly to her chest, feeling you smile against her neck as you nuzzle closer.
“It means I’m going to stop being such an idiot and worrying about what others think, and worry about what I want, and that’s you.” She turns her head, kissing your forehead before her own eyes flutter shut.
Thankfully, Kelley had offered to keep Charlie for the night, meaning she could remain where she currently was, your body weight on top of her as you slept soundly in her arms.
You were the first to wake the next morning, beaming when you realized that what had happened the following night wasn’t a dream, Alex Morgan was fast asleep beneath you, her arms wrapped tightly around you as she slept peacefully, a smile on her face.
You hum, burying your face back in her neck as you fall back asleep, eager to see what the future held for you and Alex Morgan.
207 notes
·
View notes
Text
TG: i thought about taking his sword
TG: when i was there
TG: but i couldnt
TG: couldnt really bring myself to try to pull it out it was too weird
Even if you did, you’d have to break it in order to wield it - and unlike your regenerating sword, I don't think Bro's katana will be very effective as a half-blade.
GG: dave we have to stop him!!!!!
TG: what
GG: jack! […]
GG: why dont you stop jumping around through time like a maniac and stop being like a hundred daves all the time and come to my house so we can make a plan to kill him??
I’m liking this new, more pro-active Jade. With Rose distracted by Doc Scratch's games, we probably need a new leader, and I think Jade could fit the bill.
However, I don’t think any number of Daves would be enough to take Jack down. That’s exactly what Aradia tried, and we all know how that turned out. If a thousand telekinetic necromancers can't put a scratch on him, I don't think Dave will fare much better.
TG: besides we cant beat him
TG: look what he did to bro and davesprite together
TG: im at the top of my echeladder with all the fraymotifs and i stand no chance
Dave’s already stronger than Future Dave was when he came back to the past. His progress is astounding - but the session's power creep has got so bad that it doesn’t even matter.
Like - let's imagine, for a second, that all four kids attacked Jack with their full power, right now. If they all synergized perfectly, taking full advantage of John's hurricanes, Rose's Horrorterror connections, and all the time duplicates Dave can make....
They'd still be reduced to a fine mist.
Jack has inherited a power strong enough to raze the entire Earth, and none of the kids can touch him. Becsprite initially seemed like an opportunity to match that power, Sun-to-Sun, but Vriska, for her own godforsaken reasons, nixed that plan.
The kids have got nothing. Even their plan to cheat by destroying the Green Sun is probably hopeless, because we know it ultimately serves Doc Scratch's ends, not ours. Things are really dire.
TG: only thing we can do is hold out until the scratch
GG: what is the scratch?
TG: guess i shouldnt really say
TG: since you sort of lead the way in making that plan
And then there's the Scratch plan itself, which is apparently Jade's idea - although I'd be extremely surprised if Doc's grubby little fingers weren't all over this one, too.
Opening rifts in space is certainly Jade's department, so I think she's going to suggest it as a counter-plan to Rose's more risky Sun strategy.
TG: if we cant beat him
TG: all we can really do is exile him to a place where he cant teleport back
TG: which hopefully buys us some time
TG: to try to take out his power source in a crazy suicide mission
A two-pronged approach, then. They trigger the Scratch, push Jack through a rift, and then send Rose's dream self out to destroy the sun before he's able to return.
...man, this is such a dangerous idea. Even if it wasn't being influenced by Doc, it'd still set off some huge alarm bells.
Like - sure, destroying the Green Sun might help this session survive, but what about every other session? Don't they need the Sun, to power their non-corrupted First Guardians? I just think we should maybe think for a second before deleting a critical piece of the reproductive mechanism for the entire multiverse.
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bruce's Bathtime - Batfamily Sitcom
Bruce's mistake was thinking he could have a peaceful night in the bath on his day off when his manor is full of kids who share one brain.
A/N: HELLO EVERYONE I LOVE YOU AND IM SORRY I DISAPPEARED BUT I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING SWEET FOR YOU TO ENJOY. THIS IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY "BATH" BY SAM AND MICKEY ON YOUTUBE.
WORDS: 1.7K
WARNINGS: NONE. IT'S WHOLESOME AND SWEET.
MASTERLIST
——-
Crime rates were always at an all-time low in time for the Superbowl.
Which meant Batman gets a day off. Duke was the only one on patrol that night. Alfred spent half an hour convincing him not to spend the night at the cave.
“Master Bruce, the bath has been drawn and I’ve taken the liberty of using the expensive lavender bath salts so you would not like to waste it.”
“You’re right, Alfred. I’m a billionaire and I find the fifty-dollar lavender salts a waste to not use.”
“Just get in the bath, Master Wayne. Just thirty minutes of quiet shall do you good. I’ve set an alarm.”
Since when did Bruce start working for him?
He did as told anyway. Bruce closed the bathroom door and stripped off his clothes to get in the tub. There were so many callouses in his body, he barely felt just how burning the temperature was.
It was just a minute in there when the first knock woke him from drifting off.
“Bruce?”
What the hell is Dick doing out of Bludhaven? “What?”
“Is the music room haunted?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I heard something inside.”
“Instruments tend to do that.”
“I did a headcount of everyone in the manor and everyone is accounted for except Duke who you sent out for patrol so I doubt it’s anyone but a ghost,” Dick said.
“Get out.”
“But I’m not even inside the bathroom.”
“Go away.”
“What if it’s not a ghost? What if it’s a spy?”
“The manor has more advanced security systems than the Pentagon, Dick.”
“That’s not a good point of comparison.”
Bruce closed his eyes and let the steam slow his rising blood pleasure.
“Just check the room. Could have been the wind.”
“I’m too scared.”
This man was almost thirty and was still giving Bruce the same amount of aneurysms as when he was eight.
“Ask Alfred to check for you.”
“Okay.”
He heard fading footsteps and let them lull him into sleep. He set his large arms onto the sides of the tub, sinking his mouth under the water.
“Father,” a voice said from out the door followed by three soft knocks by a small hand.
“What, Damian?”
“I need you to sign this letter from the school headmaster.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
He doubted that.
“It’s for a parent-teacher conference.”
Bruce let the silence answer for him until Damian gave in.
“Someone attacked me in class.”
“Damian-“
“Okay, I threw the first punch but he taunted me first about how I was small for my age but I said that I’m of perfect size for my age and that I’m simply too smart to be crowded into elementary school children when my intellect belongs to that of a senior and then he asked what I was doing here and not in 5th grade and I said what was he doing here and not in 5th grade and he spat at me and now his nose is broken and they want you to cover the medical bills.”
Christ.
“Maybe you don’t have to pay it. You can call them yourself. You’re Bruce Wayne. You can get away with anything.”
“I can, but you’re not Bruce Wayne, so you have to deal with it.”
“Can you just sign this, Father?”
“Fine.”
Damian walked in, fanning the steam off his face and covering his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see his own father naked, then handed him the letter to sign it.
“Make sure your handwriting is the same as when I forged it.”
His eyes could not have rolled further back into his skull.
The boy walked out, just two seconds before the next set of voices made him wish the gunman shot him in the head four decades ago and not just his parents.
“Bruce, could you tell Jason he’s not the only one who died and come back to life and that his robin costume doesn’t deserve to have to top display in the Batcave anymore especially since he’s here?” Tim said.
Jason’s voice was even more obnoxious. “I died first, asshole and no one else would have died if it weren’t for me so clearly, you should thank me. And my rebranding was better. You’re still technically a robin since, you know, it’s the other half of your name, so you don’t deserve to be memorialized.”
“You don’t deserve to be memorialized at all when you’re alive and not a memory. You’re not even the first robin.”
“You’re not the first anything.”
“I’m the first at a lot of things.”
“Replacement.”
“Glorified zombie.”
Bruce grabbed the cucumbers Alfred had laid out on the table next to him just so his eyes wouldn’t burst out in blood at how much he wanted to scream.
“Ask Alfred what to do,” Bruce said.
“Alfred is with Dick in the music room to look for ghosts. We need an answer now.”
“What do you even want me to do?”
“Tim threw my robin costume piled up with all their robin costumes when clearly, it should be in the display case,” Jason said. “And Tim wants to move my motorbike out of the cave.”
“You have so many motorbikes, would it hurt you to move just one?”
“No.”
“Bruce!”
Bruce counted to ten. “No.”
“No to what?”
“Everything.”
“You don’t even know what you’re saying no to.”
“I could not care any less.”
“Can we please come in?”
“No, I’m naked.”
“We’ve seen you naked.”
“Not on purpose.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Fine. Fine. We’ll get glass cases for both of you and we’ll pretend it’s a shrine as if you’re still dead. Happy?”
“Not from dying but sure,” said Tim.
“What about the motorbikes?”
“Put it outside,” said Bruce.
“Are you sure? What if someone sees?”
“Do whatever. Throw out the T-Rex in the cave for all I care.”
“Also, I need access to the batcomputers,” Jason said.
“For what?”
“Everyone else has access except me.”
“That’s for a reason, Jason.”
“Pretty please.”
“Get out.”
It took another five minutes of the two yapping at the other side of the door before it finally quieted down.
Then his phone started ringing. Duke.
That was when his blood pressure really started to spike.
“Duke? Is everything alright? What’s wrong?” he said to the phone.
“Me?” said Duke. “Oh yeah everything’s great! Not much crime when everyone’s watching the halftime show.”
“Then why’d you call?”
“Can I use the batmobile?”
Fuck a duck. “For what?”
“The streets are empty and you said I could drive it when there isn’t traffic.”
He hung up and threw the phone into the water before Duke could say anything else.
He had five minutes of quiet this time. Then Steph was at the door. “Bruce!”
An aneurysm. One of these days, he might actually have one.
“What now?”
“Can I change rooms?”
“Why?”
“Dick said there’s a ghost in the music room and my room is like five feet away and I don’t think I can sleep there anymore.”
“You slept there last night and everything is fine.”
“Ghosts can be quiet, Bruce, it doesn’t mean they’re not there. And you’ve made a lot of enemies, so I won’t be surprised if anyone’s settled in to haunt you.”
You’d think he wasn’t in a house full of vigilantes who fight the city’s most dangerous criminals.
“I haven’t killed anyone, Stephanie. I keep all my enemies alive.”
“What if it’s not your enemy? They don’t have to hate you to haunt you. Can I please just change rooms?”
“Move wherever you want. I don’t care.”
“Can I move to the bedroom at the west wing?”
“That’s mine,” Bruce said.
“You have a bedroom? I thought you never slept.”
“Fine. Take it. Just get out.”
“Really?” Steph squealed. “The master bedroom. Sweet!”
It took less than five seconds before the next reason for his headache started pounding at the door.
“Bruce! Jason is trying to hack into the batcomputer!”
“I did not!”
“He did!”
“The World’s Greatest Detective is just mad I guessed his password on the second try.”
Bruce sank into the water, drowning their yapping until it had blurred out. He held his breath for seven minutes straight. He could die. That wouldn’t be the worst thing. Just when it was finally quiet, again, Bruce rose up and found Damian sitting on the toilet.
He continued to look unbothered even when he looked at Bruce straight in the eye.
“Do you mind?”
“I’d like to use this toilet.”
“There’s fifteen bathrooms in the manor, Damian.”
“I like this one.”
“I understand I have not spent as much time with you, but this is not what your tutors mean by father-son bonding.”
“Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t mean to bond with you. I just like this toilet.”
“Fine. Please. Take your time.”
He did take his time. Damian sat there for a whole five minutes and pulled out a book.
“I wasn’t being serious. Get out of here.”
“Relax, father. It’s your day off.”
Bruce eyelids fluttered closed and he refused to open them until his son left the bathroom.
The next knock made a blood vessel pop. “Bruce. It’s me Barb. So sorry to bother you but I found another group of conspiracy theorists on the TikTok who made a list of billionaires who have never been seen in the same room as Batman and you’re the front liner of that list. I know you told me to never engage with these things but it’s at fifty million views right now and they’re making edits of you as Batman.”
“Make more bot accounts and pin it on Elon.”
“On it,” said Barbara. “So sorry to have disturbed you!”
He’s going to have a talk with Alfred to block off the whole floor the next time he draws these baths.
“Bruce?” It was Cass. “I hope it’s alright if I take Steph’s room. I took the liberty of putting a speaker in the music room so Dick would tell everyone there was a ghost in the manor and Steph would move out.”
The alarm went off. His thirty minutes were up.
One of these days, Bruce might finally break his no-kill rule, and it won’t be for the Joker.
---
A/N: I MISSED ALL OF YOU ASSHOLES AND I HOPE THIS WON'T BE THE LAST
TAGLIST
@karurururu @trixie-bb @childofposeidonforlife @fantasticwizardnerd @iibonniee @queenoftodd @foenixphire @omgtheywereroommates98 @spooklies @nyja-ls @jason-todd-is-my-husband @pieanq @spookyfrances @tacticaldivine @bathroom-sand @vicomtess @willieoo @consultingkilljoywinchester @elsenthal @willowoo @massiveathletefanauthor @chemicalpapercuts @the-abyss-of-fandoms @pparkeramorr @pricetagofficial @traceymoyashi @seutarose @littleredwing89 @astrids-pandora @nomalu1 @knightfall05x @lovelyartemisa @fourteengemstones @acookiesnmilkuniverse @24-7-multifandomsimp @xemiefx @cherry-glade @ @lilith1717 @yujikuna @dwboutit17 @ouflater @satan-s-ass @indigowcrds @little-prying-pandora @butwhyduh @killersandmonkeys @kierdlt @illzarr @ramdomtails @probsjosh @angel-lover-alice @evalynanne @adazzlingsakura @offendedfishnoises @lupinslibraries @comic-cat83 @jason-todd-is-my-husband @estrela-rogers @jadesublime @tedii-bear00 @andieperrie18 @willieoo @insanebatty @queennightsetz @mkknrd22robinlover @she-sees-fire @quintessences0posts @spideypoolfeelz @batgalsblog @mello-d @https-101iamtheredhood101 @offendedfishnoises
#BATMAN#bruce wayne#batfamily#wayne family#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#duke thomas#barbara gordon#cassandra cain#stephanie brown
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't Worry Baby (a 9-1-1 ficlet)
Buck/Tommy | Rated Teen and up | 2K words
Summary: It's technically not their second date, but sometimes you just have to see where the night takes you. In this case, to the ocean.
Notes: Set between 7x05 and 7x06, and incorporating some of Lou's backstory for Tommy from this video.
“Well,” Buck exhales, when he and Tommy step out into the muted hum of a balmy Los Angeles evening, “I think that went a lot better than our first date.”
Tommy stops and holds up a finger in admonition. “Ah, ah.”
“Right. Not a date. Just a— What did we call it?”
“A low-stakes, no-pressure evening of fun and getting to know each other.”
“Yeah, that.”
No matter what they’re calling it, tonight was actually great, Buck muses while they walk toward the lot where Tommy parked his truck. Buck’s not a great bowler himself, but he’s found that—as with a lot of games—the competitiveness and friendly trash talk are at least half the fun. He felt more in his element, more relaxed. Buck didn’t mind at all that Tommy won both rounds easily, with his usual confidence and charm. And he looked damn good doing it, too. God, there’s something about the sheer fucking size of him and the way he carries himself that make Buck a little weak in the knees.
“You did have a good time, I hope?” Tommy asks, sounding cautious after Buck apparently got lost in his thoughts for a few beats too long.
“Totally. Yes.” Buck glances back at the bowling alley entrance with a rueful expression. “Though I kind of wish…”
“Mmm?”
“I kinda wish that we could’ve had more of the ‘getting to know each other’ part, I guess? On the other hand, with all the noise and the music, I was a lot less likely to put my foot in my mouth again. So that was a plus.”
“Evan.”
“I know I kind of blew it last time,” Buck winces.
Tommy steps in front of Buck, forcing him to stop. He touches Buck’s wrist lightly. “Hey. If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Here… on our evening of low-stakes, platonic fun?” Buck asks with a small, playful smile.
“Hmm. I don’t remember ever using the word platonic.” Tommy lets that sink in for a second as he pointedly looks at Buck’s mouth. “Tell you what. I’ll take you to one of my favorite places in L.A. and we can talk for a while. That is, unless you have a shift in the morning.”
“No. No, I don’t.” Buck ducks his head, grinning. Feeling just so goddamn buoyant, all of a sudden. “I’d love that. Where are we going?”
“Why don’t we let it be a surprise?”
Read the rest on AO3
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Procrastination doodles
#one piece#portgas d ace#this set is. driving me insane#what do you mean list index out of range you were literally working just fine when I tested you before#what if I just. don’t do the second half of the set#not like I can anyways because my code’s not fuckign compiling!!
319 notes
·
View notes
Text
tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”
#it is awful having feelings for someone you know and have an established friendship with#but crushing on someone i barely know is knew to me and i legit feel like an idiot every time i do something stupid like this#i can’t just. talk to the guy#if i say hey and he says sup i say ‘sup indeed’ like what the fuck is that#i can barely even say hello to him#don’t get me wrong i’ve DONE it but most days i’m like#ah fuck there he is#okay you can do it just say hi#just say what’s up#and then he’s already gone#also. like. the setting we’re in is soooo not good for talking or flirting realt because um. it’s work he’s my coworker.. so um. do i fuckin#ask him for his number?? or to hang out??? but like. he’s kind of a stranger to me what do i want to hang out for 🧍#but like. i dont want to do that until i have at least one successful interaction#or like. an actual conversation.#which is gonna be really hard to manage because he doesn’t talk much at all to anyone and i really only talk if someone talks to me first or#i’ll say something absolutely idiotic and ridiculous (and honestly i do that no matter what)#anyway so um. i guess i’m just gonna keep making a fool of myself until i get it right and hopefully i don’t screw it up 🥴#i lost all my confidence in the last year and i cant do anything chill or smooth anymore (i was never that good in the first place but at#least i could PRETEND i knew what i was doing. like i could sell it. the whole weird and lost bit.)#anyway. i felt better for like 5 minutes when some guy at the gas station flirt failed with me on the way home. but that’s partly my fault#too oops. in his defense he probably could not see that i had headphones on bc upon mirror inspection they were well blended with my hair#but i was waiting to cross the street and this guy tried to like nod and smile and i did not know it was to me until i got to the other side#where the gas station was and and like. tried again and i awkward half smiled and saw his face get all mushy and confused like mine FELT 20#mins before when i’d flopped so hard trying to flirt and by the time i’d processed WAIT i think he was FLIRTING WITH ME i was already gone 🤡#but at least it ended better than the poor 14yo who very confidently asked for my number#who. i shit you not. SCREECHED for a solid 44.5 seconds and bolted the other direction when i said sorry im 21#his friends were standing there like wtf too and one was like i am so sorry about him 🤦#cheers to being fools universe
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
me, still sitting with my laptop open in my lap: okay so you’ve basically. gone over and summarized the instructions for the assignment. good. it’s been all day you want to try actually starting?
me immediately: no
#i got the extension to Sunday so easy but literally yesterday when I was finally well enough to work on stuff I could already feel#the ‘you won’t complete it well anyway just give up and do a rush job like you always do’ set in#i think. part of the problem is I hate my work for the prior assignment this is building off so much bc it was so shoddy and rushed that li#i don’t want to have to look at what my teach wrote abt it or any advice she gave or whatever. i don’t want to think abt it at all#and well tbf if was working enough I can do this still bc rly the problem was the second half where I was supposed to Sort data for graphin#but in any case yeahhhh this class is such a problem for me#it triggers my avoidance problems like crazy and I really can’t fail it but also if I don’t think about it I can leave stressing out abt#scraping a pass to my future self 👍#UGH#anyway#no text post tag for this I feel but no vent one either
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Can I be beautifully honest with you guys? I hate 91 Whiskey and So Says the Sword
#no hate to the author cause I actually liked a one shot of theirs#but like man these fucking suck#so so boring and pointlessly long#in SSTS nothing happens and it’s boring because it’s all ridiculous purple prose that tells and doesn’t show#you can set it up with Cas being emotionless as an angel and then gains emotions when he falls in love#but he has to actually gain those emotions and you can’t just tell me what a beautiful and masterful love story you’re writing#you have to actually write it#in 91W it’s all troop movements and militaristic bullshit that I don’t care about because I know Dean and Cas will be fine#and they haven’t shown me enough about literally any other character to make me give a fuck if they live or die#great. Inias will get killed off. maybe I would care more if it weren’t so predictable and also if Cas weren’t just an asshole to him#for no reason#which brings me to my second point of jesus fucking christ 91W is so OOC#crazy take I know but Cas is not randomly an asshole! maybe he is at first but then he changes because he’s in love with Dean and he’s never#like. snappy and grouchy this is So OOC and it makes it painful to read because why should I care about someone who’s mean and cruel#all the time#I’m not saying Cas is an angel (pun half intended) all the time but I don’t think he’s cruel#and moreover I think they’ve just got Cas and Dean flipped. Dean would be perfect for the grouchy military commander in the late seasons#kind of way where he’s an ass to everyone due to grief#and Cas would make a great medic; caring about humanity to his detriment#this way around it’s just painful to watch Cas piss off Dean who is somehow more emotionally literate??? in what world#it’s just fucking boring and painful and Cas is not the one with internalised homophobia let’s be real#I would love to see 1940s era repressed queer Dean but no; I’m stuck with asshole Cas freaking out over being a fairy#and taking it out on Dean!#do you seriously think that corresponds to canon Cas’ reasons for repressing his feelings for Dean? answer quickly#anyway. rant over I will continue hate reading it so I can see if it gets good#but at this point the smut isn’t even good enough to justify it so. idk why I’m wasting my time#anne speaks#please someone say they agree with me or otherwise I’ll feel like I’m going insane#the whole fandom loves SSTS especially and I’m here like. well that sucked
0 notes
Text
𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.
wc. 1.5k-ish
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines
“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.
you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.
everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.
“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.
you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.
you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”
you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.
you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.
the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.
sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”
your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.
“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.
the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.
you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.
there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.
“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.
unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.
you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.
“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.
however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.
you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.
sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.
“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.
the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.
you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.
“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.
sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.
the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.
the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.
which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.
sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”
CR. STTORU 2024
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#sukuna x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x y/n
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞
❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FAKE DATE SATORU GOJO WITH REAL FEELINGS? ❞
✧ pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader
✧ summary: you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is the same age as gojo, set during s1 of jjk, fake dating hijinks, drunk! gojo, jealous! reader + gojo, implied satosugu (sorta, i see it more in a soulmate way, whether its platonic or romantic), switch! gojo, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, naoya makes an appearance, gojo clan elders suck, gojo's made up clan responsibilities,
✧ wc: 16,043
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 6 has been sold to @chuluoyi and an anon!
“C’mon, you don’t know until you try, sweetheart,”
You run at your temples, you didn’t need to feel burgeoning ache of a headache forming to know it was coming — but you knew it would whenever you met with this blue eyed idiot, “Satoru, the last time you said that, you nearly got me killed,” you didn’t care to re-live him sending you on a mission meant for him to take a grade 1 one curse, only to end up fighting two other grade 2 curses along with it.
You were lucky you made it by the skin of your teeth — and lucky that Shoko woke up when you showed up at her door, half dead.
“And this time, there’s no risk of death,” he grins, stirring his sugary drink that counts more as sugar than a drink, “that shows great personal growth, don’t ya think?”
“I think this conversation shows that just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you have an ounce of common sense,” you mutter, as you sip at your drink of choice, “Gojo, I can’t marry you — for one, there would be a risk of death — yours,”
“Eh you wouldn’t be able to kill me — you’re far too—“ and you raise an eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence, “kind,”
You rolled your eyes, “One of the traits you’re looking for in your future partner?”
“The thing is, you wouldn’t have to marry me at all — it would be a big sham!” He said with a thumbs up, as if that made it any better at all, “just for a couple weeks so I can fool the Gojo Clan into complacency and to stop the search for my future spouse — you’d be sparing the hundreds, no thousands, of possible candidates from facing the burden of my rejection,”
“And I suppose the fact that the clan would get off your back is just a fringe benefit?” You sigh, “Gojo, why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to get married?”
“I’ve tried — but the stubborn old geezers won’t budge — I’m caught between a rock and a hard place — and you know me,” his lips curl, “I’m a lover, not a fighter,”
Yup, you have a headache now.
“What would we have to do to convince them we were together?”
Why were you considering this?
“Dates, a few public outings, meeting the geezers because they would insist, and you would need to show your face around the clan compound,” he lists off, sipping at his drink, “there may be other things, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” You may jump off a bridge by the time this is over and done with, “what do you say?”
“I have two questions,” and he leaned back in his chair, back and forth, impatience personified, “how long would we have to do it?” You didn’t want to be stuck in this arrangement for an undisclosed amount of time, but the second question was far more important, “ And why me?”
“Three months, maybe longer,” you gape at him, “I can pay you?” you raise an eyebrow, “I will pay you,” you sigh, “and choosing you was easy because—“
“If you make some sort of joke about me being single, I don’t care if you have infinity, I’ll find a way to murder you,” you grumble.
“Because you’re a sorcerer, you’re from a minor clan — so you’re an acceptable choice, and I trust you — you’re one of my closest friends,” he adds, for once his words are deprived of any humor.
And that answer was…almost worse than the joke. The word “friend” stuck in your side like a thorn you could never pull out, festering and growing until it had become a part of you — that ached only when you thought of it.
Your feelings for him, they were still there? You thought you had discarded them years ago, thought it was safe for you to move back to Tokyo from Kyoto, thought you had finally left that childhood crush behind — dead and buried — but here it was, still stubbornly clinging to life.
And now it would thrive with new roots, stems, leaves, and buds if you agreed to this.
He said your name, “Well?”
He remains as inscrutable as always, But you could never say no to him, could you? “Okay, fine,” it would also help you out in the form of another problem of Naoya Zenin who had been nothing but persistent since you came back…but you didn’t want to dwell on that. Your eyes find Gojo’s again — as they always did.
It was why you had left for Kyoto in the first place.
“Is this really necessary?” you grumbled, as the servants that served the Gojo clan fussed over your clothes — it was a traditional kimono in the colors of your clan — a deep indigo, embroidered with white koi fish that swam along the fabric, embroidered with waves. You supposed you were only grateful that Gojo didn’t leave you to get dressed yourself.
Gojo watched as they adjusted the obi around your waist, and your eyes remained fixed ahead, but your gaze couldn’t help but wander to him. Satoru Gojo was always unfairly gorgeous — there was a reason people fawned over him even when he had just rolled out of bed without even a once over at his appearance — but those same people probably would have passed out if they saw him as he was now.
His formal wear was a sky blue — the same as his eyes, a coat draped over his shoulders and loose trousers of snow white that was a nod to hair of the same color. His hair remained unkempt as it always was.
“Gonna change into that but not comb your hair?” You remark, and he smirks, running a hand through his hair.
“Well I think if I start being too well behaved, they’ll know it’s fake,” and the word sticks in your chest like a dagger between the ribs, as the servants finally finish with your clothes, and you sigh.
You straighten yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror, “How is it only been a couple hours and I’m already exhausted?”
“The suffocating grip of old geezers and their backwards traditions would do that to you,” but his eyes linger on you, “but lucky for you sweetheart, it seems to suit you,”
“Do you have to call me that?” You murmur, cheeks warming, as you pretend to busy yourself with adjusting your clothes in the mirror.
“You have to get used to it,” his footsteps draw closer, heart battering against your ribcage as he does — surely, it would break free of its bony cage by the end of this, as he slides a shiny pendant around your neck — a sliver infinity with a singular small blue gem glinting in the middle — “after all, you are mine now, aren’t you?”
“Gojo, this is—“
“Satoru,” he reminds you, as his fingers brush against your neck as he clasps the necklace, “how will it look if someone overhears you calling me by my last name in private?” And your fingers brush against the necklace, toying with the pendant as you positioned it properly, “do you like it? I had it made especially,”
Especially — the lack of ‘for you,’ stuck out to you, as you force a smile on your lips, “it’s perfect — it will definitely sell the act,” and your eyes can’t find his as he adjusts his sunglasses, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your blindfold,” you turn to face him, “doesn’t it drain you not to wear it?”
“I can wear sunglasses sometimes — usually I get strange looks if I wear a blindfold in normal society — and here,” he pulls off the glasses as his cerulean irises seem to pierce your very form, “it reminds these old men who holds the cards here,” it was already hard enough for you to meet Gojo’s gaze as it was, it always felt as if he could stare right through you — and now, it felt as it your entire soul was beholden to him, “and as a bonus,” he draws close again, as he holds out his hand for your own. You resist the urge to bite your lip, inside giving your hand as he wished, and he lifts to his lips, before tilting his head to press the back of his hand to your cheek, “now I can look at my beautiful girlfriend unobstructed by these pesky eye coverings,”
You scoff, “You always have something to say, don’t you?” As you try and fail to move your hand away, “Gojo—“
“A good escort should never let their lady walk in without their hand being held, don’t you think?” And you sigh, as he leads you out of the frying pan and into the fire — you only hoped you wouldn’t be burned — your eyes sliding to Gojo again, fingers toying with the fabric over your chest — in more than one way.
“So you’ve gotten yourself a partner, eh, boy?” the elderly man sits with his eyes closed as he sips his tea, steam rolling off the surface in droves, but he seemed unbothered by the heat — perhaps because of the steam coming out of his ears, “I’m shocked,” you kept your gaze down, only had greeting him upon entering — stating your name and clan, before kneeling beside Satoru on a cushion.
“Shocked that someone like me could ever find my match? I know I’m truly one of a kind,” lips curled in that smirk that seemed to annoy almost everyone Satoru Gojo knew — including you — but no one showed the level of irritation that this man showed.
Gojo may be the head of the Gojo clan — but you supposed there were still people he had to answer too, if only due to age and tradition — the two very things Gojo hated the most.
“Why bother respecting those for aging when they haven’t done anything for me to respect?” he had said flippantly to Yaga one day during a lesson, “I rather die young than live to the age of these old coots without accomplishing a damn thing,” and then Yaga firmly smacked Gojo on the head right after, for disrespecting Gakuganji during the sister school exchange event.
And you had a feeling this meeting was about to go as well as that class did.
“Is this serious? Have you proposed?” and you have to keep a straight face, but your cheeks burn.
“Now, don’t embarrass me and my girlfriend,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “but this is serious — she’s the only woman I want to marry — and I’ll do anything to accomplish that,” he leans forward with a smile, squeezing your hand, “because I love her, and I only will ever love her,”
His gaze slides from Gojo to you, eyes boring into your skull, “and do you feel the same?”
You never have been one for lying — lying was an uncomfortable feeling that twisted and turned in your stomach like questionable leftovers that you took a gamble on eating, ones that wanted to come out the same way it went in. But you had learned with time because sometimes it was necessary for a sorcerer to lie, and when it was between telling a lie or dying, you’re forced to become quite adept at things you hate.
And you had learned, as you meet his hardened look, the best lies had some truth ingrained in them.
“I do, Satoru and I went to Jujutsu Tech together, and he’s the only man I ever loved,” perhaps it was too much truth, as you forced your voice to be steady, “he’s frustrating, irritating, full of himself—“
“You don’t have to be that honest—“ Satoru grumbled.
“But he’s also selfless, unendingly kind, a great teacher, and a good person, maybe even the best person I know,” you can’t bear to look at Satoru, “and he’s the only man I want to call my husband,”
The silence lingers in the room for a moment before the old man grunts, “I’ll believe it when I see it,”
“What kind of answer was that?” You asked as Satoru walked you back to the room, his fingers still laced with yours.
“It means we have to make him believe it — but he’ll at least stop arranging these meetings for me with prospectives,”
You raise an eyebrow, “and what will make him believe it?”
He smirks, as he tugs you a little closer, fingers under your chin, “I could kiss you right now, might sell the act,”
“No one can see us,”
“Someone’s always watching,” he murmurs, leaning far too close as your breath catches, eyes widening before they flutter shut and you wait. But instead his lips brush your forehead, followed by a flick, “gotcha,”
Your eyes snap open in a glare, “Gojo!” And he’s cackling.
“Satoru,” he corrects, as his hand leaves yours as he opens the sliding door to the room, “you coming?”
You pout, rubbing your forehead, as you brush past him — this was going to be a long few weeks.
“Why do I even have to go to this?” You were being led through a bustling mall, his arm around your waist, as if to prevent you from escaping (good idea). Your lips twisted in a grimace, you allowed him to drag you along, knowing him, he would carry you over his shoulder without a hint of shame (you don’t think he even contained the word shame in his own vernacular), “can’t you go and wear a ring and go by yourself?”
“A ring is not as good as having you on my arm now is it?” he bumps you with his hip, “plus, we’re not engaged yet, unless this is a proposal,” he raises an eyebrow, and your cheeks burn.
“Shut up, I’d never propose to you,” he laughs, but it’s almost strained.
“Never propose to me like that right? Because I deserve a better proposal than that,” he sighs, leading you into a store, “come on, we have to find you a nice outfit for the wedding,”
You glance at the store, your jaw dropping, “Gojo, this store is so expensive, I can’t afford this—“
He lowers his sunglasses just to show you that he’s rolling his eyes, “Who said you’re paying, Princess?” You stare at him, slack jawed, while a salesperson comes up to the two of you — though she’s clearly only interested in one of you.
“Hi, what can I help you with finding today?” her lips curled in a smile, as she twirled a strand of her around her fingers, “I’d be more than happy to assist you,” her gaze completely fixed on Gojo, without the slightest hint of acknowledgment for you to spare.
You bite back a scowl, plastering on a fake smile, as you lean into Gojo, “My boyfriend is looking to buy me an outfit for a wedding we’re attending — baby, could you tell her what style you want me to wear?”
Gojo glances at you, a flicker of surprise that is quickly covered up by a smirk, his arm tightening around your waist, “Yes, I have to make sure my sweetheart is looking her best — so can you please find these styles of dresses for me?” You can’t help the smile on your lips as the salesperson shuffles away, lips a thin line rather than the grin she once had.
“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Gojo chuckles, and you roll your eyes, hoping your expression didn’t give your heart away, the feelings you had stuffed into a crevice of your chest that threatened to burst.
So you choose to turn it on him instead, as you meet his gaze with a small smirk, “I don’t like people taking what’s mine,”
But he only takes it in stride, only as Gojo can, “I’m yours, huh?”
You shrug, choosing to hurt yourself rather than let him do it, “at least for the next two to three months,” and your gaze snaps away and looks to the saleswoman as she comes back with a selection, “if you get to choose my dress, I get to choose a suit for you, deal?”
Gojo raises an eyebrow, but smiles, “Anything for you, princess.”
“You just wanted to see me model for you, didn’t you?” Gojo emerges from the changing room in a black button down and white suit coat with a matching white tie — as he tilts his head, ��I would say my best suit is my birthday suit,” and you grimace, “oh c’mon, it was a good joke, although—“
“Don’t say it’s true,” you lean back, phone in hand as you snap a picture as you did for the last three, “I love to see that self confidence of yours has grown into full blown arrogance,”
“How can I not be arrogant when I see you snapping pictures of me?” He crosses his arms, the fabric taut and straining over his chest, the top button undone, showing off the adam’s apple that bobs in his throat, “it’s definitely a step up from when you ignored me,”
You snap from your thoughts, “When did I ignore you?”
“When we graduated Jujutsu Tech, you’d spend time with Nanami or spend a weekend with Shoko, but whenever I was around, you wouldn’t even reply to a text,” your eyes fall to the floor, chewing your lip, “it wasn’t always like that — I thought we were close,”
It was true — but it wasn’t because you hated him. It was the opposite. You had tried to be his friend, but the more you were his friend, the more it hurt — hurt to see him smile at you like everyone else, hurt to see him with his eyes on the one he wanted, and with his arm around Suguru.
And you really didn’t hate Suguru — it was the opposite really — you thought they were perfect, a person who grounded him, made him a better person, and with a much tighter grip on reality than Gojo did — perhaps too tight. Too tight that it shattered apart in his hands, the pieces too far gone to pick out — and too far gone to save him.
You tried to be there for him — knock on his door when you knew he was home and force him to shower while you and Shoko cleaned up his room. You stayed even when Shoko had long left, holding his hand as he hid his tears from you with his back turned, and you didn’t admit you could hear his nearly silent tears. But eventually, it turned into movie nights, meals shared, and even grocery runs.
And it became harder and harder to hide how you felt — each minute spent with him was another drop in a bucket that was already overflowing to begin with. At first it had been a crush — an unattainable crush that you were happy to leave at just that. But eventually, it became so much more — you had fallen in love with him, when you really shouldn’t have. Because he didn’t need a partner — he needed a friend.
“Gojo, I didn’t ignore you—“
“I’ve called you sweetheart, did your number change and then magically change back when you came back to Tokyo?”
But once he had pulled himself together, you were graduating and you requested to be put in Kyoto — your excuse being you were tired being in the city — but to Satoru, you gave no excuse, you quietly left without a word. Because you were really tired of having your heart broken — so you needed space, and you were willing to do anything to get it.
“Gojo, I didn’t really talk much to Nanami or Shoko when I left either, I just needed space—“
“Space from what?” You sighed, parting your lips when his phone rings. He checks it before taking it, “another mission? Yeah, I can leave tonight,” you bit your lip, “send Ijichi to take me to the airport. Yeah, ok,” and he hangs up, “we’ll have to cut this short. I have to go overseas,”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Probably just a few days. I’ll be back soon,” you bite your lip, and he tilts his head, “you worried about me, Princess?”
You flush, opening and closing your mouth, “I am,” and he blinks, seemingly surprised, “come back safe. Text me to let me know when you land,”
His lips curl, as he ruffles your hair, “I will — and I’ll be back soon enough. Promise,” and he pauses, “you want a souvenir?”
“You don’t have to—“
“I want to,” he cuts you off, and your cheeks warm.
And just then, he gets a text, “Ijichi Is almost here. I’ll have him drop you back first,” and he turns to change out of his clothes.
“Satoru,” you catch him by the sleeve, and he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you after all of that. It had nothing to do with you, there was just a lot going on—“ he says your name, but you shake your head, “but it won’t happen again, I promise,”
“Good,” he steps back into the changing room, a grin on his lips, “I wouldn’t let you get away this time anyway, sweetheart.”
“Gojo?” You say again, and he tilts his head, “get the indigo suit,”
He grins, “and you have good taste, well, of course you do,” he holds the door open, “I am your boyfriend after all.”
And the door of the fitting room swings shut, and you hope he’s not looking at you, as your cheeks burn, your heart squeezing in spite of every thought of your mind telling not to go there — not to go down that road, but you should have known, the moment you said yes to this plan—
You were already there.
You had never known that the buzz of your phone could make you more happy — or anxious.
But it had been over the course of the last few days. Because you’re probably an idiot, but that wasn’t the point.
how bad of an idea would it be for me to try this Karanga and Chapati place that Yuta recommended?
You snorted, Satoru, the last time you had curry — that wasn’t even that spicy, you couldn’t taste anything for a week.
Another buzz, But Yuta said it’s not so bad
You roll your eyes, imagining the pout he undoubtedly has on his lips — Yuta has never seen you cry over a bowl of curry — stick with your desserts, and you chuckle as you add: you may be the strongest but you have the weakest taste buds
It takes some time for another response to come — and when it does, you realize a grave error on your part was made: never point out any flaw to this idiot because he will take it as a challenge.
This is Yuta — Gojo-sensei tried it and he’s now in the bathroom. He told me to tell you he’d text you later.
This was how the last few days flew by — texts with updates about his mission, his work, and his check-ins with Yuta. And the night before he was flying back, just as you were cooking dinner, he called you—
“Gojo? Isn’t it 2:00 AM there right now?”
“You learned the time difference for me?” you heard his words slur over the other line, “Sweethearttttt,” I went out with Yuta and Miguel, and I may have gotten a littttttle tipsy,”
“Isn’t it like 2:00 AM there?”
He clicks his tongue, “Miguel challenged me to a drinking contest,” and you groan, rubbing a hand down your face, “but they got me back into my hotel room, even though I’m not tired,” he mumbles, as you hear the crinkle of his bedsheets and the rustling of his comforter.
“Have you drank water? How much alcohol did you have?”
“Are you worried about me?” he giggles, before sighing, “I’m glad,”
“Why are you glad?” You hold the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you stir the pan with your dinner currently in it.
“Because it means you care about me,” he murmurs, “everyone who cares about me always leaves,” he gives a small bitter chuckle, “maybe it’s better for you not to care about me. It’s dangerous to care about someone like me — the type to die young or live far too long,”
“Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he mutters, voice growing thick with sleep, “call me Satoru,” and his soft snores fill your ear as he falls into the sandman’s grasp — a small reprieve from his feelings — while you were left to dwell in them.
All this time you had been thinking how you felt, what you were dealing with, what you wanted — and all these years and you hadn’t thought about how your actions made him felt. You thought he was beyond any hurt you could possibly inflict — his infinity meant that he was leagues above anywhere you could possibly reach — but it didn’t.
He wasn’t. He was a person — and when had you stopped treating him as one?
You texted Yuta: make sure your sensei is lying on his side and make him drink some water. And don’t let Miguel goad him into drinking ever again.
Yuta: got it. sorry about that sensei — gojo wouldn’t listen
You scoffed, chuckling at how Yuta called you sensei but did not afford Gojo the same courtesy.
You stayed on the phone with Gojo, hearing Yuta come in and persuading him to drink some water, before he fell back asleep, but even in his drunken state, he wouldn’t give up his phone — Yuta snapping a picture and sending it to you. You laughed when you saw it — loml with a dozen hearts and a picture of you in your obi, clearly taken when you weren’t looking, but it wasn’t those things that made you laugh — it was the way Gojo clung to his phone, fingers wrapped around it desperately, as he slept.
You stayed on the phone with him all night, even when you went to bed — of course just to make sure he’s fine — the call waking you when it disconnected after reaching the max call time. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the time — 5:00 AM. And almost like clockwork, your phone rings again, Gojo’s number flashing on your screen.
You pick up, “Mm, hello?” you yawn, “finally awake sleeping beauty?”
“Glad you finally decided to acknowledge my beauty,” his voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, and god, you can’t help but imagine waking to this voice every day — “ugh I have a headache,” he murmurs, the crumple you hear must be him burying his face in his pillow because the next question he asks is muffled, “why were we on the phone?”
“You called me last night after drinking, and refused to hang up after Yuta helped you get settled,” you chuckle, as you hear his groan over the phone, “I got a new contact picture for you out of it, love of my life,”
“Glad you’re finally on board,” he mutters, growing quiet, “why didn’t you hang up?”
You pause, “what do you mean?” You ask slowly.
“You could’ve hung up at any time, but you stayed on the phone, even when you fell asleep,” his voice was soft, “why?”
“I just,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t lie to him, at least not completely, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and you didn’t want to hang up — so I didn’t,”
He’s silent for a moment, and you almost wish you could sink into the Earth — but he only says, “okay, now what’s the plan for the day, Princess?”
Your lips curl, “Well my day has not really began yet since it’s 5:00 AM here, so I’m probably going to sleep for several hours and wake up at an hour that is not bereft of god,”
“You really couldn’t just say ‘ungodly?’” He snorts.
“Well, 5:00 AM makes me wax poetic, what can I say?” Another yawn parts your lips, “I’m going to sleep,”
But he doesn’t hang up, “I’ll be here, sweetheart.”
You glanced at the time, he’s late.
Well, he wouldn’t be Gojo if he didn’t make an entrance. You slumped on the couch — even if he was getting home from his mission, there was no guarantee he’d stop by your place to see you. He might want to just go home — or stop by Jujutsu Tech, or be anywhere else. You couldn’t have expectations — expectations were only a way to be disappointed, a drop from soaring that would only be met with the impact of the cold, unforgiving ground.
Especially expectations from a fake relationship. You lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling — why were being such an idiot about this? The TV drones on in the background, illuminating the dark of the living room, as you sit barely paying attention to a random rom com you had picked.
Maybe it was because Satoru had spent the rest of today on the phone with you, even through a security check (warning the security officers not to hang up his call) and at the gate. And then every day after that, he had called and texted you like clockwork — stupid things— good morning and good night, random memes that made him think of you, pictures of his day (including ones of him messing with his students), questions of what sweet you wanted from the shop he had decided to frequent, calls about your day and his own, and hours long conversations about nothing at all. Maybe because you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke to you — or maybe it was because you were just down bad.
It was probably the latter.
You take a throw pillow and pull it over your face. What were you thinking? Falling for your old crush and fake boyfriend a night before a wedding was a trope in a bad rom com that you spent your weekend night watching — it shouldn’t be how you feel.
“That’s a nice look,” you jump, pulling the pillow away, to be met with Gojo’s gaze hidden behind another pair of sunglasses, “honey, I’m home,”
You bite back your smile, “one, this isn’t your home, and two, how did you get inside?”
“It’s pretty easy when you can teleport, you should try it sometime,” he sits beside you, more like collapses as he falls into the couch, his head resting against the top, “although if someone moved in with me, it’d be much easier,” and you laugh.
“Shouldn’t you ask a girl out before you ask her to move in?” he shrugs, his arm resting across the top of the couch.
“I’m anything but traditional,” he sighs, glancing at the TV, “what are we watching?”
“A bad rom com,”
He snorts, “watching it to mercilessly pick it apart?” And you raise an eyebrow, “what? I did stay awake for some of those movies— it was some of my favorite memories during that time and some of the only times I could actually sleep,”
“Yeah, it was a nice way for both of us to turn our brains off for a bit,” you glanced at him, “thought it’d be nice for us too,” his gaze slides to you curiously, “I know there’s been a lot on your mind — with itadori and the special grades,”
He sighs, running fingers through his hair, “Yeah, old geezers seem to cause problems in all parts of my life,” you snort, “can’t believe they’d try to do away with Itadori while I was gone,”
“They don’t see anyone as innocent — they see whether you’re an asset or a threat, unfortunately, they see Itadori not as the former,” you shake your head, as your eyes stare at the movie flashing on the screen, but you don’t really watch, “they’re too far gone to see the innocence of children,”
“You sound like Kento,” and your eyes meet his, his cerulean gaze already on you, his sunglasses discarded on your coffee table.
“Funny, thought I sounded like you,” he blinks a moment, “Satoru, you’re all about preserving the youth of children — that’s why you saved Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji — even when you had every reason not to,”
“How could I not? Youth belongs to the young after all,” a wistful smile on his lips, “i don’t want the same to happen to them that happened to us,”
“To us,” you repeat, a sharp pain sticks between your ribs at the flash of Haibara’s smile and the whisper of Suguru’s laugh, “more like to them,”
“Yeah,” a silence falling over the two of you as the white noise of the TV filled the quiet, “but sometimes I think we went down along with them,”
You shake your head, “I think a part of us did — a part of us will stay there—“ frozen in time and seeping like poison in our bones, “but we’re still here,” you risk to toe the line you’d never cross, your fingers brushing his, “and it’s not over for us,”
And his eyes flicker to your fingers threaded with his, as his fingers squeeze yours slowly, the corner of his lips quirk upwards, as you stretch and sit up, fingers falling away from his, a yawn on your lips, “should we get some sleep?”
“Come on, let’s finish the movie,” he murmurs, even though sleep seems to weigh heavily on his body, eyelids fluttering shut as he turns to you, cheek pressed against the couch, “hey,” he murmurs, “it wasn’t the movies that let me relax,” and you can hear the unspoken meaning in those words — but that was the problem.
It was unspoken.
Your fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to brush your fingers against his cheek — but you can’t.
You’d allowed yourself to toe the line you’d long drawn in the sand that you’d built into a wall — you had even allowed yourself to stir a few bricks from its place, but you couldn’t cross it. Not now.
Your eyes are growing heavy. Maybe not ever.
Your neck hurts.
The first thought you have as you rouse into aching consciousness. Why was it so bright? Did you forget to draw your curtains? You draw an arm over your face, already dreading the waking hours, until you realize it’s your day off, and you sigh, relaxing into your bed.
Or what you thought was your bed.
Except your bed couldn’t move, nor could it pull you closer. But now something or someone was, an arm around your waist with movement behind you that made breath warm your ear. And you probably would have screamed, if you hadn’t heard the familiar voice whisper your name in your ear.
Gojo.
Gojo???
Your head slowly turned to be met with the strongest sorcerer very much passed out, half behind you, half on top of you — his blue eyes hidden under his eyelids for once instead of any covering that he used to protect himself. His snowy white locks brushed against your skin, the close proximity doing nothing to alleviate your feelings — you had only hoped you could see one flaw, one ick, and maybe you’d be done. But on Satoru Gojo? The man born to be perfect — the same one who sang karaoke for the first time as a teen only to be so incredible that it moved your server to tears?
You really should have fucking known better.
Your breath caught, and you wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment—if no one had, you would surely be the first case. You were always a trail blazer.
And you tried to shift again, if only to maneuver yourself out of this situation, but he moved along with you, seeking out the contact he was losing. And this only ended with him lying on top of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and his legs straddling one of your legs— and then you felt it — a very distinct bulge pressed against your thigh.
Fuck. Your. Life.
He mumbled in his sleep, nose brushing against the hollow of your neck, drawing another shiver from your body. You had a rare opportunity to touch him — didn’t you, no infinity between the two of you — just him and you. You were in a position probably many desired to be in — admirers and enemies alike (neither category being mutually exclusive). You supposed old habits die hard — and so did old crushes.
Could you let yourself enjoy this for a moment? Enjoy the feeling, no matter how real it never would be? Maybe it was wrong, but — your eyes fluttered shut as your arm wrapped loosely around Gojo — you certainly didn’t want to be the one to wake up first.
And you weren’t — your eyes flutter open to movement, and your eyes meet cerulean eyes, lips parted in surprise, “Morning,” he manages, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks, “did we fall asleep?”
“I guess we did,” you bite your lip, “are you going to—”
And he blinks, before scrambling off of you, “Sorry,” he mumbles, as he turns away to fidget with his phone.
“Guess that was one very boring movie,” you murmur.
“Or I was in a very comfortable bed,” he replies with a smirk that turns to a grimace.
“What is it?”
“Naoya Zenin is making an appearance at the wedding we’re attending tomorrow,” and you groan, as he raises an eyebrow, “how many proposals had he made you?”
You scoff, “Proposals? More like propositions,” you shake your head, already aching from the sleep you had barely shaken off and now it had graduated to a shooting pain that made your eye twitch at the thought of that man, “he’s offered to do me the ‘honor’ of being the next heir’s husband half a dozen times. If he ever becomes the head of the Zenin clan, I may help Maki annihilate them myself,”
Naoya Zenin — the most pretentious and egocentric man you had the displeasure of meeting. Even his pretty face could do nothing to fix his hideous personality ridden with misogyny, hatred, and spite. And you’d been offered his hand in marriage half a dozen times due to your lineage in a lesser known clan family with a unique cursed energy. It was a strategic move to try and secure his place — as was every move he made — he had no room for anyone he deemed useless to his plan.
Unfortunately, you did not fall into that special category.
“That won’t happen,” Gojo replies, texting on his phone, “plus, he’s too weak to force that to happen — not to mention he’s a first class prick,”
“You say that, but you basically propositioned me,” you teased, as his eyes flit up from his phone, as you rise from the couch, “quite the proposal you came to me with,”
He pauses a moment, a small smile on his lips, “one, i don’t recall proposing, and trust me that’s something I’d remember,” and you roll your eyes, “and two, aren’t you just as bad, since you said yes, sweetheart?”
“Can you blame a girl wanting a little extra money?” And he locks his phone, drawing close, your breath catching as he lets himself linger for a second too long.
“Can you blame a man for wanting a beautiful and intelligent woman?” And he’s leaning close, but he leans back, only grabbing his coat from the couch, still slung over as it had been. He spares you a smirk at your bewildered expression, “close your mouth, you’ll catch flies, princess, and what a shame that would be,” you scowl, and he laughs as he heads to the door, slipping on his shoes, with a final glance and grin thrown over his shoulder as he opened your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Right. Tomorrow. The wedding.
Fuck. You were so screwed.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Fuck. You scrambled from your vanity as you finished putting the finishing touches on your look for tonight. You didn’t think Satoru Gojo of all people could ever be on time, but you supposed there was a first time for everything.
You slipped the dress over your head, careful not to smear your makeup or mess up your hair. You were starting to regret not having the Gojo family’s attendants get you ready for this event, if only so you could have turned your mind off for this time. But you knew all too well that your mind could never give you a break — with all of that free time came free real estate for your anxiety to set up camp and put down roots for all the things that could possibly go wrong. So it was better this way, as you reach for the ties on the back of your dress — of course, maybe if you had let yourself be helped, you could actually have someone to tie your corset back on this dress.
Another knock.
“Sweetheart?” You hear Gojo’s muffled voice through the door, “you’re not planning on standing me up are you?”
You stumble your way to the door, clutching the back of your dress, as you take a breath and throw it open, “Can you tie the back of my dress?”
Fuck. He looked gorgeous. His hair was parted and combed off to the side, a deep blue suit coat and a crisp white collared shirt tucked into a matching suit pant. A pair of sunglasses were tucked into the chest pocket of his jacket in front of a white pocket square.
“No hello, ‘can you tie my dress?’” Gojo tilts his head, his eyes graze over your appearance, as he steps inside and closes the door behind him, “turn around,” And you do, fingers still clutching at the fabric at the back of your dress, cheeks burning as you do, “gonna have to let go, and let me help you, sweetheart,”
You slowly let go, but his warm fingers brush against the skin of your bare back as he holds the dress up from slipping, carefully lacing the corset, “I was right, blue is your color,” he murmurs, as he tugs lightly at the strings, “let me know when it’s tight enough,”
“It’s good now,” you sigh — though the corset wasn’t as tight as your chest now, you face him now, trying to adjust your hair.
“Let me,” one hand cups your chin gently, your breath catching and you can only hope he can’t feel your pulse through your skin. His fingers run through your soft tresses, your eyes unable to meet his — but you wonder if he can see right through you anyway — “you’ve never been good at asking for help,”
“Look who’s talking,” you glare at him, as he chuckles, “well, I asked you didn’t I?”
“Why did you ask me?” You raise an eyebrow, “I’m sure you could have asked anyone,”
“Well, I didn’t want just anyone,” he murmurs, fingers tracing the blush you had lined your cheeks with, “I wanted you,”
“Why?” And he parts his lips, a soft smile that pulls at his features — was it a hint of pink across his cheeks.
“Because—“ and your phone goes off — a reminder with the time of the wedding. And the moment’s broken, as reality settles over you again, “We’ll be late,”
“I don’t mind being late,” and a heat burns from his touch, from the tips of your fingers to the his fingers leave your cheek, warmth fading as quickly as it came, but he offers his hand, “but if it’s for you, I can be on time,” and your fingers find his, interlacing, before he tugs you close, his arm around your waist, “as long as you stay by my side.”
You never were one for weddings. At least not one like this.
A stuffy event held in an extravagant manner — a large banquet hall for the reception, but now the guests roamed the gardens the hall opened out into — lush greenery serving as a perfect backdrop for this wedding — a distant branch of the Zenin family was marrying, which meant all of the main clans were invited to attend. Including several elders of the Gojo clan.
And now you were being subjected to this as well — several dozen eyes on you — all due to the man whose arm you were on. His arm wrapped almost protectively around your waist, his lips nearly brushed against your ear when he whispered in it, letting you know just exactly who was coming over.
“I didn’t think you were one to care for remembering these things,” you wave at the couple that just left the two of you, his fingers grazing the skin behind your ear as he tucked a stray strand behind it.
“I usually don’t care, but I know it’d make you uncomfortable otherwise, especially among all these people,” he smirks, his fingers finding yours, and squeezing, “plus, we need to make a good impression, don’t we?”
“I think we’re making an impression just by being together,” you murmur, and he raises an eyebrow, “everyone’s staring — didn’t you notice?” and he shrugs, a sly smile on his lips.
“Didn’t notice,” he tilts his head, his eyes fixed on you, “I was too busy looking elsewhere, I guess,”
Your cheeks burn, but as your lips part to respond, you see him walking over to the discreet corner you had parked yourselves in, “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, your fingers tightening around his.
Naoya Zenin strides over in a black yukata kimono, his silver hair pushed back, his lips twisted in a slimy smile that made your skin crawl, your name leaving his lips, “it’s been far too long, you’re looking lovely,” his eyes raked over you like hot coals, “though the company you keep—”
“Has improved markedly,” Satoru’s lips curl in a grin, “do you have business with my girlfriend?”
Naoya raises an eyebrow, “Girlfriend?”
Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, “I didn’t realize you went hard of hearing — I know your hair had started to go, but your hearing too—” you hid your snort poorly, Naoya’s sharp gaze flickering between the two of you.
“I’m younger than you are, and my hair is bleached,” he snaps, “or are those six eyes not sharp enough to see that as well? They certainly aren’t enough for you to have found Suguru Geto before he caused a war,”
And Satoru’s hurt is imperceptible — a hint of hurt that only shows in the tightness of his jaw for a millisecond, before he’s only giving another laugh.
“At least I am already the head of my clan, because even if I were without my six eyes,” he smirks, but a certain meanness pulls at his features, “I’m still not as weak as you are—”
Naoya’s expression sours, curdled into a foul scowl, “What did you—”
“Alright,” you hold up your hands, “Let’s save the dick measuring contest for later, okay? This is a wedding, let’s not cause a scene, ok?” you glance between the two of them, and Satoru pouts — while Naoya seems all too pleased, a grin broken across his lips.
“This is why you’re the perfect woman — you know how to mediate between men’s egos, and—”
“Naoya, I said let’s not cause a scene, and you’re two steps away from me causing one right now,” you snap, “I wasn’t interested the first dozen times you asked me when I was single, so why would you think I’d be interested now, when I have a boyfriend?”
His face flushes red, and you’re not sure whether it’s in anger or embarrassment, “I doubt you’re even really a couple,” he hisses, “I know all about the proposals that this idiot has been getting and the pressure to marry,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sure you’ll come running to me once he’s done using you—“
Satoru surges forward, but you press a hand against his chest, “We don’t need to justify our relationship to you, so think what you want — but even if Satoru and I break up, I rather die single than ever spend a minute with you,” and you look at Satoru, your gaze softening, “and I rather spend be single for the rest of my life than spend another minute without him,” and you slide your eyes back to Naoya, his fists clenched, as you lean in, “so fuck off.”
He opens his mouth to reply, but the staff begin to wave everyone into their seats, and the wedding begins. The two of you sit, a silence falling over as others take their seats beside you. A subtle tension as music filled the air and the wedding proceedings began—but you could have cared less— god what the fuck had you said to Naoya? How had Gojo taken it? Does he know how you feel? Does he think it’s an act?
Then his fingers find yours, “Thank you,” he whispers softly, managing only those two words before the wedding begins.
And it dawns on you — it wasn’t what you said, it was the fact you had defended him, your heart aches, it was the fact you had defended him when Naoya insulted Suguru.
Your eyes stay fixed forward as the ceremony begins — it was never about you — as you pulled your fingers away from him.
Like it always never was.
The wedding ceremony goes by — as does the reception, without much to-do. The only silver lining is that there’s far too much small talk for the two of you to have a moment to talk alone, especially when the two of you spot the Gojo clan elders side-eyeing you from the table of old folks, not to mention Naoya hovering around that same table, the same scowl on his face. The only remark that Satoru whispered as the two of you floated by the table pointedly, a smirk on his lips as he waved and held you close to his side — “one quick hollow purple could solve my problems,”
You gave a forced chuckle at that — unfortunately not yours.
And finally, the two of you head home — in relative silence, the drive being short to Gojo’s apartment, where your car was parked. You sigh as he pulls in, “I’ll head out I guess—”
“Why don’t you just stay the night?” and your gaze snaps to his, the first time all night, “it’s really late, and I have a guest room—”
“My apartment isn’t—”
“Your apartment isn’t far, but I thought we could…talk,” and your heart gallops to a start — talking was the last thing you wanted to do.
“What is there to talk about?” And his fingers brush against your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“Maybe about why you can’t meet my eyes?” You huff, looking away.
“Can you blame me? Your blue eyes are freaky,” you grumble, and you can hear the judgment in the silence, a first for Gojo, “Gojo, what do you want me to say?”
He stays quiet for a moment, “You don’t have to say anything, just come inside,” So you do — following him inside, the silence hanging over you like a guillotine waiting to slice, “Thank you for what you said—“
The door clicks behind him, as you stop, “Gojo—“
“Satoru,” he corrects, and you’re shaking your head.
“You don’t have to thank me, I was just—“
“But what you said—“
“I said what I had to—“
“You didn’t have to say all that, Princess,” his voice grows soft, “you know you didn’t,” and he’s drawing closer across his living room.
“He was upsetting you,” you murmur, eyes unable to find his again, falling instead to his plush carpet laid against his hardwood, “I couldn’t stand by and let him — I know it hurt when he brought up Suguru—“
“Suguru?” he repeats, and your eyes find his, finally, and you find his brow furrowed, “is that what you think I was thanking you for?”
“What else would you—“ and he’s stepping even closer, your breath stuck in your throat as his fingertips graze your cheek again, “Satoru—“
“Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” he murmurs, a soft chuckle in his voice, “you always look beautiful, but tonight in particular, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,”
“You don’t have to—“
“That’s just it, I don’t have to,” his palm slides against your cheek, “I want to — I want to when it’s you,”
“But, i can’t do this, not like this,” tears burn at the corners of your eyes, water threatening to spill out of a too full glass that had been full for far too long, “not when it will give me—“ you cut yourself off before you cut your own heart out, but he’s only forcing the scalpel back into your hand.
“Give you what?”
And you can’t turn back now — you’d turned from this road far too many times, sprinted in the opposite direction only to end up here again — you needed to do this, even if it lead to a dead end cliff, “Give me the wrong idea,” and you’re turning away, but his hand catches you by the wrist, “stop, I—“
“It’s not the wrong idea,” and you stop.
No, it was. It was, right?
“Satoru—“ and his fingers find your own, as he steps closer, “please, don’t—“
“If you want me to really stop and forget about this, I will,” he murmurs, “I’ll turn around and open the door and let you go home right now, sweetheart. I won’t bring this up again,” but you don’t move away, you don’t say anything, so he continues, “but if you don’t want that, and you want the same thing I do—“
“And what is it that you want?” And you hear his soft chuckle, his cheek brushing against you, as his fingers tuck your hair behind your ear.
“I thought that was obvious, but I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you,” he squeezes your hand, as he guides your face to look back at him, his lips curled in a small smile, “I want you,”
Your breath is shaky, no, no — he doesn’t mean that, “No you don’t,”
He tilts his head, “You don’t think I don’t know what I want?”
“Satoru, I don’t want to be a substitute for others—“
And his hands are sliding around your middle, pulling you closer, “You think I could ever think of you as a second choice?”
“But—“ and every doubt from when you were younger wells up, every fear of not being enough — but they are erased away, crumbled into dust, by the way he looks at you — entire multitudes of skies all made to look at you.
“You keep finding reasons not to do this,” and his fingers skim your cheek, before resting under your chin, “but have you tried finding a reason why we should?”
“Satoru—“ you can’t help but lean into his touch — god, he was a temptation personified — everything you ever wanted, even when you tried not to want it. These feelings were never fake — so why not give in? Just this once. Your fingers slide against his cheek, and you can feel his skin burn under your touch, “do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“No, sweetheart,” he leans in even closer, your breaths becoming one, “but I’d love to find out,”
His lips brush yours — it’s chaste, hesitant, testing the waters — he tastes like sugar, and you almost laugh — he tastes like the frosting from the wedding cake that he had swiped a slice of on the way out that he finished before you two had reached his car. His eyes flutter open for half a second, before your lips are crashing to his this time — a new record for addiction? A second maybe and you were too far gone.
His hands cup your cheeks, one sliding to the back of your neck, as the other slides down to your waist to pull you ever closer.
“Did you find it out?” You murmur between kisses, lips meeting and parting if only to allow you both a breath. And his snowy eyelashes flutter, as his lips quirk upwards.
“Think I need another,” and his lips swallow any coherent thoughts you have, his hands slipping down your sides, lips parting again, “another,” he murmurs, a kiss, “another,”
“How many do you need?” you ask breathlessly, a chuckle caught in your throat, and his lips press desperate kisses along your jaw, a smirk against your skin.
“Is infinity an answer?” And you laugh, “have to take responsibility — I’m addicted to you,”
“And if I’m addicted?” His hands squeeze your hips, drawing a gasp from your lips.
“I’d be more than happy to take responsibility for you, Princess — always have,”
Your heart beats against the bars of its cage, threatening to burst out — but you couldn’t — not without knowing, “And if you break my heart?”
“I won’t ever break your heart,” he leans down to press butterfly kisses to your cheek, “but even if I do, I’ll put it back together,”
“Promise?” You murmur, and his lips meet yours again, and again, as he’s leading you towards his bedroom, his fingers running through your hair.
And the door to his bedroom swings shut, “Promise.”
“How long are you going to tease me?” you’re grumbling, cheeks hot and eyes averted, the back of your hand pressed against your lips, as Satoru presses needy kisses along your neckline of your dress.
He looks up at you through his snowy lashes, and you don’t know if you want to slap the smile off his lips or kiss it off, “You’ve been teasing me for years, you can’t give me this time, sweetheart?” His teeth graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “plus, do y’know how fun it is to watch you squirm?”
Slap. It’s definitely a slap.
“You’re insufferable,” and he smirks when your breath catches when his lips ghost over the swell of your chest.
“Yet you’re the one who's under me—“ and you try to get up only for him to pin you back down, a pout on his lips, “alright, alright, can’t blame me for wanting to see you squirm, Princess, how many chances will I get?”
“Only this one if you keep this up,” and he’s finding your lips in a languid kiss, an apology with no words, a smile filled with affection that only made it hard for you to feign annoyance.
“Then I better make this count,” he’s gently helping you up, turning you around to undo your corset strings — but you wonder if he’s undoing it or tangling it, “why did we choose a dress with such a complicated back?” It’s his turn to grumble and it only draws a giggle from you.
“Surprised you haven’t hollow purple’d it by now,”
“Trust me if you weren’t in it, I would have,” he sighs, as the fabric begins to loosen up, slipping off your shoulders.
“And here I thought you were good at everything,” you chuckle as he helps you shimmy out of the dress, the fabric falling away from you in a small pool around your ankles. Pools of blue rake over your exposed body, raising goosebumps in its wake, as your arms reflexively try to cover yourself, but his hands find your own, easing them away.
“I’m good at what counts, Princess,” he kisses your wrist, pulse jumping under his touch, nose brushing against it, he hovers over you, as he undoes his tie, fingers tugging at the knot, as he undoes the top button of his shirt, “and I’ll show you.”
~~~~
Satoru had dreamed of this — of you and him. He knew when he realized it — although it was too late when he did. Maybe it was the night before you left — the night after graduation — before you left — you had fallen asleep watching the movie you had put on. Your lips parted and mouth ajar, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were out. He had leaned over to grab his phone to snap a picture to tease you with later, only for your fingers to grab onto him, your head on his shoulder, a quiet murmur of his name.
“Satoru,” — not Gojo, as you had always called him. And he knew he wanted to hear you say it again and again. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair away, his head leaning against yours.
Suguru was everything to him for a time — he had come to Satoru at a time where he thought no one else would ever be able to understand him. No one else would be able to reach him — because how does a person reach for a god? But here you were — and the way your head rested on his shoulder and your lips said his name made him want nothing more than you by his side.
And when you left — you didn’t reply to his messages, you disappeared, just like everyone else did in his life. He was always left alone in the end — maybe it was his fate.
But then you came back — came back almost right after Suguru left for good. And that part of his heart that was meant for you began to thrive again and again — as he spent more time with you.
And god, when his clan started to pressure him to find someone to marry — he wrote them off as he always did. He thought he could ride out the ridiculous proposals and dates they had arranged for him — but as he thought more about who he wanted to spend his time with, who he wanted to see after a tiring mission, and who he couldn’t imagine being without —-
And he realized it was you.
“Satoru, don’t tease me,” you pouted, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, legs spread for him, his eyes flirting between your all too cute expression and the growing wet patch on your panties, “fuck, please—“
“Gonna have to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, his arm hooked under your knee, your foot pressed against his back, “where do you want me?”
“You fuck-er—“ the last syllable is a gasp as he kisses your sensitive clit through your soaked underwear, “Toru—“ a whine leaves your throat.
Fuck, you’re so cute, his fingers toy with the elastic of your panties — and all of this was worth it, worth it to see if these feelings were what he thought they were, worth it to make you smile, and worth to end up with you.
“How can I refuse you when you say my name like that?” he’s tugging your underwear away, exposing your sipping cunt to a rush of air and his warm breath, “all this f’me, baby?” You mumble something he can’t quite make out, “what was that?”
Your glassy eyes look up at him, blown wide with lust, “Only f’you, Satoru,” fuck, his dick twitches — he could bust just looking at you.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, “g’nna make me cum just with your words,” but he diverts his attention to your needy cunt, his long fingers graze over your pussy, collecting the precum on his fingertips, before he pinches your clit.
“Toru,” you squirm, as he grins down at you, all too pleased.
“Imagine if the elders could see you like this — spread out for me like a good little wife,” he’s leaning down to kiss your fluttering folds, leaning back for you to see the shiny pre that clings to his lips that his pink tongue darts out to clean off, “sweetest thing I’ve tasted,”
“Please, Toru, fuck—“ and finally his finger is circling your hole, before sinking in knuckle deep — fuck, you were fucking tight — he could melt from your warmth, pulling him in like a siren to a drunken sailor, “oh my god,”
“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ princess,” and he earns a glare from you that fades into an open mouthed moan as he begins to pump his finger in and out, “so good for me,” and he’s adding another finger, the wet squelch of your cunt growing louder, as he reaches a hand down to graze against his erection if only for a little relief.
He wishes he could memorize the way you looked right now — perfect little lips parted for him, his name and soft pants the only sounds you could manage to make, your back arching into his touch, and the way you moaned when his lips found their way around your clit.
His tongue circles your clit at first before his lips suck at the hard pearl, fingers parting your dripping folds, finally finding that spot that had your walls giving that telltale spasm, “Toru, I’m close—g’nna cum—“ you whimper, his fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt as he sucks hard at your clit, and you cum, hard, around his fingers, drenching his face and finger alike, as he fucks you through your orgasm.
You’re beautiful — lips parted and chest heaving, as you moan his name again, “good girl,” he’s murmuring, as your eyes flutter open, to watch him lick his lips and fingers clean, “might get addicted to how you taste, sweetheart,”
And you’re boneless, but still you’re still reaching for him, pulling him into a languid kiss, his cock twitching as he shifts himself over you, hands pressed into the mattress, his clothed cock rubbing against your drenched folds.
“Wanna make you feel good,” you mumble against his lips, and he’s pulling back an inch — but unknowingly, he’s given you a mile, as you flip him onto his back.
You’re a vision — your perked up nipples visible through your bra, halfway slipping off your shoulders as it is, hair a lovely mess, and pretty lips kiss ruined.
“My turn,” and your lips burn a trail down his jaw, along the curve of his neck and the cut of his collarbone. You take your time, if only to pay him back in full for all the teasing he did, “didn’t know you taste so sweet, Toru,” your tongue drags up his chest, “must be all the sugar you eat,”
And your lips smile against his abs at the sharp gasp he fails to stifle, “I’ll have you know I’m very sweet—“ and your fingers graze over his clothed erection — his hips buck up into your touch, “I’m known for it,” he hisses, as a giggle escapes your lips.
“Uh-huh, I’m sure almost everyone would care to disagree,” the tip of his cock strains against the fabric, the dark wet patch growing larger the more your thumb beared down on it, “but I wouldn’t be one of them,” and you’re dragging the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock, your eyes nearly hypnotized by the slight of it, thick beads of precum dripping from the slit, before your gaze finds his again, softening, “because I know how much you do for others — and how much you’ve lost because of it,” you kiss his inner thigh softly, nose brushing against the skin.
“As long I don’t lose you,” he says softly, “I think I’ll be okay,”
And your fingers find their way around the base of his cock, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips, before you lean down and flick your tongue against his leaking tip, “I’m not going anywhere, Toru.”
Your tongue drags a thick stripe up his cock, before beginning to trace along one of his veins, your fingers slipping up to use his pre to rub up and down his length. Your thumb teases his slit, and a hiss leaves his lips, a smirk against his dick.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” his cheeks burn, dusted with pink surely — as he watches you lick the precum that dripped down your fingers onto your wrist, “knew that mouth would be s’fucking good—“
“Turns out you don’t shut up even in bed,” and that earns you a cheeky grin that parts into an ‘o’ as his dick sinks into your mouth. He swears he was closer to death than he was when Toji nearly killed him — not that he’d like to remember that man in this moment — but you’d surely be the death of him, and you would be — if he had to spend another second without you in his life.
Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes half shut, his white knuckled fingers gripping the sheets — you’re gorgeous as you swallow him whole — sucking and licking, nose brushing against his pubes as your eyes water, as you bob along his length from tip to base and back again.
“S’good for me, so pretty, fuck—” he groans, when his tip brushes against your throat, his fingers finding your scalp to try and ease you off, I’m s’close princess, g’nna cum—” But your hands only slide to his ass to hold yourself against him, as his dick twitches in your mouth, and your fingers drift to his sack while your tongue flicks along his slit and he’s done. He’s cumming down your throat, hot release painting your mouth.
He’s watching you with half lidded eyes pull away from him— a string of cum and spit strung between your lips and his dick, before beginning to drip from the corner of your mouth. And fuck, it’s enough to make him hard all over again. You lean over him, wiping the release from your lips, as you kiss up his body.
“Now who’s good at everything?” and he huffs out a chuckle.
“I stand corrected — actually, don’t think I’ll be standing for a while after that but—” and he’s finding your lips in a kiss, tasting himself you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, as your fingers find his erection again, stroking it, before he’s flipped you onto your back. He runs a hand through his snowy locks, a smile on his lips, “don’t think you’ll be doing much standing after this either,”
“So full of yourself,” you roll your eyes.
“That’s what you’re going to be full of in a second—”
“Oh my god—” and your laugh dies on your lips as he starts to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, “Toru,” you whine, as he watches your needy cunt flutter around nothing as he drags his length up and down your dripping hole, watching your releases mix, “please—”
“So polite,” he hums, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, “now how can I refuse that?” and he begins to sink his length into your cunt, warm walls nearly pulling his cock in deeper, as he groans your name, “s’perfect, s’good for me, princess, made for me,” and inch by inch, until he’s finally bottoming out.
“Toru, ngh, s’big—” you gasp, lips parted in a silent moan, as you pull him even closer, face buried in the crook of his neck, but his fingers tugging your hair to show your face.
“Let me see you,” he murmurs, as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss as he continues to thrust into you — his hips meeting yours, the wet squelch and skin slapping echoing in his ears. A gasp parting your lips as you pull apart, your head thrown back in a moan as your walls flutter around him as his tip breaches that one spot inside you.
“Haa, I’m close, Toru,” you groan, and he’s nodding, his fingers reaching between your bodies to find your clit.
“Cum for me, pretty girl,” and you do — cumming hard, as he notches himself deep inside you, before spilling inside you, his hot release deep in your pussy. He’s moaning your name, as your bodies slow and his fingers cup your cheek gently, and his lips find yours.
He slowly rolls off of you, your warmth leaving him for a moment, before he’s pulling you close again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Is this a dream?” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut, and a small chuckle leaves his lips, legs entangled.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, “If it is, I hope I never wake up, Princess.”
Your body aches — that’s your first thought as you stir into consciousness. Fuck, why does you feel so sore? Your eyes try to flutter open, but the sunlight blinds you — a soft groan leaves your lips. You shift, as you stretch, your back aching and muscles tight, but then someone moves behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist.
Your eyes shoot open, as your head slowly turns to find looking at Satoru. A gasp is caught in your lips.
Fuck, it was real.
You slowly turn to face him, his soft breaths leaving his pink lips — god he’s so gorgeous. His pretty white eyelashes resting against his skin, lips parted ever so slightly, and his snowy hair askew and mussed. Your fingers ghost over his cheek lightly — how many people have seen him asleep like this? How many had seen him with his guard down? You knew he didn’t sleep nearly enough, you were surprised he was still asleep — but, your cheeks burned, you both did spend half the night awake.
But there were more pressing things to think about — what did this mean? You chew on your bottom lip, he had said he wanted you — but what did he want? Just last night? Or something more.
“I can’t sleep with your thoughts grinding so much,” he mumbles, heat rushing to your cheeks, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, “why are you awake so early?” His nose brushes against your neck, his lips pressing softly against your pulse.
“I just woke up,” you murmur, a small shiver running up your spine, as you relax into his touch, your fingers running through his soft locks, “did all my thinking wake you?”
“Yes, and you’ll have to compensate me,” and you snort.
“You’re rich, like old money rich,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your skin, heat climbing up your body.
“Money isn’t what I want,” he nuzzles you, nose brushing against the skin of your neck, “wonder what other ways you can repay me,”
You chuckle, humming at his touch — god even the simplest of touches has your logic up in ash, “I’m sure you can figure out some other methods of payment,”
And his lips find yours again — it’s a lazy morning kiss, soft and slow, but not bereft of any of the passion from the night before. His fingers slide down your body, as he pulls you impossibly closer.
“My preferred method of payment wouldn’t have us leaving this room until tomorrow morning,” his lips curl in a smirk, “but I’ll collect my charge tonight — how about I make us breakfast?”
“You can make breakfast?” You raise an eyebrow.
“I know how to scramble an egg,” he shrugs, and you snort only for him to pout, and you smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek, before your thumb runs down his lips.
“How about we make breakfast together?”
“Was that really your first time making tamagoyaki?” you raise an eyebrow, as you pick up a piece of the rolled omelet between your chopsticks.
“Promise,” and you bite it — it was perfect — the texture, the taste, the seasoning. And you stare at him, an eyebrow raised.
“Either you’re lying or you really are good at everything,” you mutter, and he grins, as he takes a bite of his food — a sweeter tamagoyaki he had made for himself, far too smug for his own good.
“I think I proved that last night, Princess,” and you nearly choke on your food. And you chew thoughtfully — you two hadn’t even breached what last night meant yet. You had simply been dancing around it, or at least you had. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up — or rather, you picked up another piece of tamagoyaki up, you didn’t know how to, “what’s going on in that head of yours?”
And your eyes snap up, “What do you mean?”
He tilts his head, “You’re not hard to read — you keep thinking about something,” and his lips curl, “last night?” Your hesitation gives you away — and he only smiles wider, “should I refresh your memory?” And your cheeks are burning, and he chuckles, “come on, sweetheart, let’s just talk,”
You bite your lip — you needed to do this, you couldn’t run away from how you felt, not again — your fingers fidgeting with your chopsticks, before you place them down on your bowl, “What did last night mean?”
And his lips curl, but this smile he has is softer, “What do you think sweetheart? Do you think I’m really the—“ And his phone rings, and he picks up his phone, eyes flickering to the caller, and you wave him off, “you can take the call,”
He sighs, “One second,” he gets up to speak, and he hangs up a few minutes later, “text me a location,”
“Who was that?” And he’s shaking his head, a sigh on his lips, his hand on the back of his neck.
“The ever breathing and ever irritating geezers want me to meet them to speak about something involving the clan,” he meets your gaze, a flicker of an emotion in his eyes — a drop of water that disappears into the sea as quickly as it formed, “and it’s a good opportunity for me to discuss something I have been wanting to speak with them about,”
“Something?” and his lips quirk in a small smile.
“I’ll be back soon enough to explain, sweetheart,” he walks over to you, “will you wait here for me? Think I’ll be able to come back faster if I know you’re here waiting for me,”
And you can’t help the small flutter your treacherous heart gives, “The great Satoru Gojo will rush for me?”
“Oh, he would rush day and night if it meant he could come home to you,” and his fingers find your cheek, drawn like a magnet — why was it you could never look away from him? Even in a crowd, your eyes always found his gaze.
And you’d go to him — like a moth to a flame, “I think I’d prefer just Satoru,” you lean into his touch, your hand over his, “I do owe him after all,”
“You do,” he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before he’s pulling away, a smile on his lips, “consider that a deposit.”
You didn’t know what to do with yourself.
Alone in Satoru’s place — you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He had left right after breakfast, and he told you where the TV was, books, and told you could order anything or use anything you needed. But, this place was so him — each place you went, there was just another reminder of him that seemed trail after you, but at the same time, without him, it was like a shell of a place — no soul present.
And you supposed the soul wasn’t present.
You ended up back in the bedroom, crawling back under the covers. Fuck, they even smelled of him — you squeezed your eyes shut.
You really didn’t know what you were doing — did you?
You laid on your back. What were you supposed to make of what happened last night and this morning for that matter? Was this real now? A real relationship with Satoru — you turned over on your stomach, pulling the covers over your head — you could barely imagine it.
And your phone goes off, as you reach for it blindly on the nightstand. But it wasn’t the white haired sorcerer you hoped it was — your eyebrows knit together — at least you didn’t think it was. A text from a number you don’t recognize — and a picture to top it off from the preview.
You nearly deleted it — only to spot a familiar mop of white in the picture.
Your blood runs cold at the sight. Satoru? He was at a restaurant with — a woman? You didn’t recognize her, but his hand held hers, picture taken mid laugh. Your cheeks burn — no, no — there had to be an explanation.
A text now — Want to see what your boyfriend does in his spare time? Is he done using you now?
There’s only one person who’d text like that.
Naoya, how fuck did you even get this picture? You stare at the photo — have you fallen so far in your clan that you have the time to stalk Satoru now?
He replied, it’s not my fault that they are dining in a Zenin owned business.
Another picture — Satoru and her were hugging, his arm around her waist, far too close to be friendly.
You don’t think — you call him. It rings and rings, but no answer — the cut to voicemail makes your heart sink.
Another text — even if you don’t believe me, do you think this will be the last of your problems? When you’re Satoru Gojo, anyone close to you will have a target on their back — if only to use your blood to paint one on his head.
You knew you couldn’t trust this. You knew there was an explanation. You knew Satoru wouldn’t do this to you.
But even still, you wished you could tell your heart that.
“What is this?” Satoru was led to a table at the restaurant the old geezers had chosen — but there were no wrinkly old cranks in sight. Instead, there was a woman.
“Are you Satoru Gojo?” And he raises an eyebrow, hands sliding into his pockets.
“The one and only, now I don’t suppose the old fools of the Gojo clan turned into a woman — so who are you?” She swirls the glass in her hand, before downing the liquid in one go.
“Figures they had to lie to get you here — seems like we’ve been set up,” she gestures to the chair in front of her, “I’m Airi,” and he takes a reluctant seat, “I was told this was a meeting for us to meet for a potential engagement,” and he scoffs, he should have figured it was something like this, “but judging by the look on your face, you didn’t know that,”
“I was expecting to meet
I suppose we’re on the same page,”
He tilts his head, “Really?”
“Gojo, you may be a catch, but to me, you’re nothing more than a potential knife to my neck,” she places her glass down, leaning back in her chair, “and plus, I have someone I’m interested in,” and her eyes slide down, “and judging by the bite mark on your neck, you do too,”
He pays it no mind, a laugh leaving his lips at the thought of you waiting for him at his apartment, “I do,” and he sighs, pushing his chair out, before getting to his feet. “and I have to get back to her,”
She follows suit pushing out her own chair, rising, a waiter walking by, and she trips. It’s a reflex, he catches her by the wrist and by the waist, steadying her.
“Sorry,” she pulls away immediately, looking back for the waiter, before biting her tongue, “fucking waiter tripped me,” the two of them glance around, but see no one, “I’ll have to talk to my grandfather’s advisors about this. No one trips the granddaughter of Naobito Zenin,” she mutters, and Satoru’s eyes snap to her.
“You’re a Zenin?” And it clicks, the wedding, “who arranged this meeting?”
She tilts her head, “My father, but he heard about this from my cousin, Naoya—“
He checks his phone — and he sees a missed call from you.
Fuck. It was a set-up — in both ways.
“I have to go,” and he can only hope you wouldn’t do the same to him when he came back.
Satoru calls you, but you don’t pick up. You can’t bring yourself to stare back at the photo he had set as his contact photo — the picture Yuta had taken of him clutching at his phone with your picture on his screen.
You needed to talk to him in person.
And it’s not long before he’s back home — practically teleporting at your feet.
You swear, stumbling and he grabs you, tugging you close, “Got you,” he smiles, tugging off his blindfold for you to see his eyes — the startling blue that you still couldn’t navigate without drowning in its depths, “does that mean I can keep you?” and you want to pull away, you want to run, but you can’t help but melt into his touch, your fingers gently clutching at the front of his shirt.
“That depends on whether I’m the only person you’ve said that to,” and you look up at him, his brow furrowed, “and held like this,”
“The meeting today, it was supposed to be with the elders — I was going to discuss our relationship again but—“ you show him the pictures on your phone, and his brow knit together, “how did you—“ and he doesn’t finish his sentence before he realizes, “it was a set-up,”
“I know,” and relief washes over features for a moment, but your eyes can’t meet his, your lips a thin line.
And he glances at the photo again, seeing the one where he’s holding Airi, “She tripped, sweetheart, trust me—“ his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “I don’t want to hold anyone but you,”
“I know Naoya and the Gojo clan probably set this up,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, “but—” you pull away from him, every step away from him a fissure in the foundation of this bridge built, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,”
And he’s blinking, “Why?”
“I’m not good enough,” you’re shaking your head, stepping back as he steps forward, “I hurt you by leaving, and I was this close to doing it again—”
“But you didn’t—”
“And your clan doesn’t want us together, and I don’t know, I feel even if we’re together,” the words that leave your lips break your heart and his, we’ll only hurt each other in the end,”
“Why do you always push me away when we get close?”
“No I don’t—”
“You don’t think the sorcerer that’s an expert at pushing others away — wouldn’t know if he’s getting pushed away?”
“This isn’t working out,” you cut him off, as the slice cuts through thin air — but it’s not your head that goes rolling — it’s his heart, “we should stop — I think your clan has been convinced,”
He’s silent for a moment, before he replies, “well, I haven’t been convinced,”
You scoff, his hands by his side, as his quiet footsteps approach you, “convinced of what?”
“Convinced that,” he stops in front of you, “you don’t feel the same way I do,” Your breath catches, as his fingers find your cheek, “all these years, sweetheart, and you didn’t know?”
“But,” you can’t process this, it doesn’t make sense, “but Suguru—“
“Was important to me yes,” he murmurs, “but it’s been years, and it doesn’t mean I can’t have deep feelings for someone else — especially when I’ve had them for over a decade,”
“You—“ was this real? As he stood before you, in his living room low lights, sunlight streaming in from his windows, “what?”
He laughs, “Didn’t know it was possible to render you speechless, sweetheart — guess there’s a first time for everything,” he steps over your missteps with the same ease he does everything, “I really do have to spell everything out for you, don’t I?” The back of his fingers ghost over your cheek, “I’m in love with you—“
“No,” you’re shaking your head, and his face falls, “Satoru, we can’t—“
“But—“
“Your clan doesn’t approve of me, they won’t stop trying to break us up, and I could put you in danger,” you murmur, “they could use me against you — just like Suguru did,” you couldn’t bear the thought of that, “and is that worth it? Worth it for something that may not be real?” You ask the question you’re afraid of asking him — of asking yourself — “was it ever real?”
And he’s still trying to reach for you, despite it all — he knows it’s dangerous to be around him, he knows anyone close to him is in danger — and that’s why he was okay when you left. If only you’d be safe — but he knew that if he always played it safe, he would never be happy, “It’s real to me,”
“It’s not to me,” you turn towards the door, “I’m sorry.”
And this time he doesn’t stop you.
It’s for the best.
That’s what you tell yourself. The same thing you say when you’re leaving his place. The same thing you say the next morning you wake up with only a pain in your chest and a dull ache in your head. The same thing when you accept a long mission overseas.
It was for the best.
Then why — then why did you think of him? Each and every day, every minute, every second. But it was for the best. He was safer without you, it was easier without you, it was better — better and yet each day seemed to drag when you couldn’t talk to him. And your notes were filled with unsent texts to him — and your mind was filled with nothing but memories.
And you couldn’t touch memories nor could you talk to them.
Several months later, you’re sitting in a plane, watching the animation of the plane fly back towards Tokyo. You had been checking in with Yaga several times a month, but you hadn’t heard a thing from Satoru.
Or rather, Gojo. Not that you expected to — not after what you did.
And soon enough, you’re arriving home — heading inside your home to find a bunch of your mail had fallen out of your mailbox, knocked out of the rickety box from the storm the night before. You pick up the drenched mail between two fingers that was stuck to the sides of your walls, as you fumble with your keys to open the door. Your suitcase and mail fall to the fall as you close the door behind you, sighing.
Fuck. You were home.
You dragged your suitcase inside, picking up the mail off the floor. You collapsed on your couch, tossing the wet envelopes onto the table — when a name catches your eye.
Gojo?
You pick up an envelope — the frilly envelope doing nothing to protect the contents inside — you barely can make out any of the text, except the faint inked kanji of his name.
You gingerly open the envelope, peeling out the insides — and your heart drops.
Is this an invitation? The faint text was blurred and smudged from the rain — the contents all but faded and you could only make out three things — ““marriage,” today’s date, and bits and pieces of what you thought was an address.
Satoru was…getting married?
It felt like logic had fled your mind and panic took its place — as you looked up the parts of the address that you were able to decipher. And you found it — it was a popular venue not far from here.
You didn’t think — you grabbed your keys and drove.
You couldn’t let him get married, no, no — you had made a mistake when you left. You thought he was better off, you thought it was for the best — but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be when your chest hurt like this — felt as if your heart was splitting in two with a sword stuck between your ribs. It couldn’t be because you pushed him away because you were scared — scared of getting hurt again, scared of hurting him, scared of being with the only person you ever had loved.
Basically, you pulled up to the venue, you were an idiot.
You hadn’t changed, you hadn’t showered off your who knows how long of a flight, and now you were on the steps of a wedding venue that Satoru was getting married at. You froze before the doors.
You couldn’t do this. He didn’t deserve to have his day ruined by you — not when you had ruined enough. If he had found someone else to spend his life with — whether it was arranged or not, he deserved to be happy.
Even if it wasn’t with you.
So you step down — walking off a distance to watch when the couple emerged — which judging by how dark it was and how staff were already almost done setting up — would be any minute now.
So you wait.
And finally when the doors swing open, you steel yourself — knowing it would do nothing, nothing to shield you from the pain of seeing—and your eyes find the groom.
That wasn’t Satoru.
He certainly had the white hair, but he did not have his blue eyes — he had a lovely bride regardless, who looked at him the way you had always looked at Satoru. Was that the look you had hidden away for so many years? And why were you still hiding?
And your eyes find Satoru almost instantly — as fast as his eyes find you seemingly, as your name escapes his lips — as he parts through the crowd to your side. He’s wearing the other suit he had tried on — the white suit that had been your second favorite — his white locks parted and combed to the side, but still impossibly unkempt as they always were.
“You got my invitation?” you blink, tilting your head.
“But you—what?” and his brow furrows.
“Don’t tell me you lost your ability to read and speak while overseas, princess,” and a small chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head, wringing your hands.
“Satoru, the invitation was wet because of the rain, I thought—” your voice wavers, glancing away as your cheeks burn, “I thought you were getting married.”
He raises an eyebrow, lips curling, “And you were about to burst in and object?”
You roll your eyes, but even so you can’t meet his gaze, “Satoru—”
His smile only grows wider, “What were you going to say? A passionate speech about how you’re still—” And you’re tugging him close by the collar, and his breath catches, your name leaving his lips.
“I’m in love with you, Satoru,” your voice is steady as you speak, your hand sliding to his cheek, “I always have been — I was just afraid to admit it, I didn’t want to hurt you — whether it was by my own hand or not,” and his brow furrows, but you continue, “but I’m not scared anymore — because it hurts more to be nothing than something with you—”
And his lips find yours. It’s everything you want — because it's him, he’s everything you’d ever wanted, and everything you’d ever want. You want the way his arm slides around your waist to pull you closer, you want the way his hand cups your cheek, you want the way his lips smile against yours, and you’d want his past, present, and future. And you’d do anything to keep it.
“Promise you’ll never leave like that again?” he murmurs, his arm tightening around your waist as he says the words, his forehead pressed against yours, “I already have abandonment issues,” and you chuckle, your fingers finding his cheek.
“I promise,” you murmur, “I’m sorry I left — both times I left, and there won’t ever be a third,”
And he smiles, “You proposing to me, sweetheart? I’m not one to rush into things, gotta take me out on a proper date first,”
“How about tonight?” you find his lips again, the taste of sugar on his lips — undoubtedly from indulging in a slice or several of wedding cake.
“So soon?” he hums,and his gaze softens, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “someone’s eager,” and your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his, as you would a million times more,
“Well, you don’t know until you try.”
✧ a/n: ahhh another celebration fic done!! this one was lowkey a struggle towards the end so i hope this turned out okay. it's beyond me understanding if it did or not lmao. i hope you guys enjoy ahhh -- gotta probably put up a poll to decide the next celebration fic this weekend :) (it's only because i'm horribly indecisive).
✧ taglist: @yunjinabla, @weluvsza, @yamaguccitadashi, @gojobbg, @soulofoz, @hfdkhjghjkghfj, @forest-fruits-jam, @cerene-dipity, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @reaperxdeath, @octopishisahybridanimal, @hanlay, @whereflowerswenttodie, @tsukimefuku, @numbing3scapism, @arcswonderland, @kirashuu, @fushitoru, @spider-fan72, @jayathelostdragon, @sunflowmaryam, @satorusmochis, @catsgomurp, @simply-a-s1mp, @kentocalls, @weluvsza, @lucy-xv0202, @mazzd4, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo x you#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo fluff
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
Government Hooker - T.F.
Synopsis. With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, popstar! reader, bodyguard! Toji, unprotected, brat-taming, spanking, choking, rough oral (male + female receiving), slight enemies-to-lovers, jealousy (Toji’s side), daddy kink, semi-public sex, manager! Nanami, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, stalking threats, TW. knife (brief), swearing.
Word count. 10.8k
A/N. WHEWWWWWWWWW need some buff bodyguard Toji in my life. Slightly inspired by The Bodyguard. Set in the Brooklyn Babyverse.
It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.
Pop Princess’ World Tour in Jeopardy After Stalking Threats
Dark Times for Pop Royalty: Will She Return for This Year’s Grammy Performance?
Is It Over For The International Sensation?
“Nanami, for the millionth time, do I look like I need a babysitter?” you squint at the headlines flashing across your phone screen, resisting the urge to fling it at the nearest wall.
Sitting right in the middle of your whirlwind dressing room, you breathe in the heady air, thick with hairspray and anticipation for the upcoming shoot. Normally, you’d preen at the stylists swarming around you - but right now, their fussing only makes it all the more difficult to drive your manager dangerously close to an aneurysm.
As expected, Nanami drones out the same rehearsed response you’ve memorized word-for-word at this point. “My apologies, but with the severity of these threats, we can’t-”
“Afford to take any chances, I know I know.” Still, heart sinking, you scoff, “I understand, but 24/7 surveillance is insane. Can’t I have any-”
Bang!
To your chagrin - and perhaps Nanami’s mercy - the door flies open with a force that rattles its hinges.
As the bustling activity in the dressing room freezes, your eyes immediately snap to the hulking figure at the door. Expression steely and vigilant, he strides in with a presence that demands attention. You can’t help but raise a brow at his audacity - and the unreal rippling of his muscles beneath that skin-tight t-shirt.
“Sorry to interrupt, but that blue-haired freak Mojito at the front desk told me to come here.” a low rumble sweeps the room.
Ah, this must be the one. Gesturing your stylists away, you square your shoulders - ready for a fight. “And who might you be”
“Name’s Fushiguro Toji, your new ‘babysitter’, princess.” he declares, voice gruff and unwavering over Nanami’s tired hum of “Bodyguard, he means bodyguard”.
You narrow your eyes, studying the pure disinterest on his face. Great, just what you needed - you didn’t claw your way to the top to be scared and controlled by some loser stalker. Tilting your head defiantly, “Hmm, you don’t look like much of a bodyguard.”
Toji’s lips twitch into a sardonic smirk, gaze meeting yours with a hint of challenge, “Mhm, and you don’t act like much of a princess.”
You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. Everyone holding their breath, eyes locked on you as an agonizing beat of silence passes, half the room on the verge of fainting.
One. Two.
A startled laugh bursts from your lips. Shattering the tension in that dressing room as swiftly as the mirror in your stylist’s hand would’ve had you remained quiet a second longer.
The audacity of this man. No one’s ever spoken to you like that before.
Toji’s grin widens at your unexpected reaction, that sinful little scar on his lips stretching in amusement. Some small, strange part of him satisfied at passing your invisible test.
“Well, look at that, didn’t expect ya to have a sense of humor.” he comments, tone positively dripping with sarcasm, as if toying with you.
Plastering on that painfully saccharine sweet smile usually saved for nosy interviewers, you mockingly bat your lashes. “And I didn’t expect to have a babysitter breathing down my neck.”
“Oh don’t expect me to babysit, princess. I don’t get paid nearly enough for that. According to that hardass manager of yours, my job is to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.”
With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turn back to your make-up artist, clearly done with this tedious conversation. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I have a knack for losing unwanted company.”
And if there’s one thing you’ve come to learn with Toji Fushiguro, it’s that you do not have a knack for losing unwanted company. Especially not him.
Wherever you went, Toji was there first - it didn’t matter how fast you escaped, or how many hats and masks you put on. He was everywhere.
He was there when you slipped away to swap sunglasses with a passing stranger, convinced you’d outsmarted your looming bodyguard. But your triumphant laugh caught in your throat as you heard that familiar chuckle behind you - whirling around to find him sporting your ill-fitting shades with an amused glint in his eyes.
He was there during a chaotic fashion show, where you blended seamlessly amongst the flurry backstage, hoping to escape Toji’s watchful gaze. Heart pounding, making it all the way to the elevator. You’d barely let out a breath of relief before large hands intercept the closing doors. Towering figure stepping inside with a knowing grin, “Going somewhere, princess?”
Hell, he was even there when you hatched a plan to ditch him on the tarmac of the bustling airport. Making a dash for your private plane, and settling into your plush seat with smug satisfaction. Ah, at least you’ll have a few hours of peace until Tokyo without-
“Damn, first class is nice. Must be nice to be pretty and rich.” a low whistle causes you to groan inwardly (and outwardly).
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you mutter under your breath, at the man seated right beside you. At this point, you half expected him to be keeping guard outside as you shower.
Toji was always there. Steadfast as ever, firm chest always blocking whatever escape plan you’ve concocted. In all your years in the spotlight, you’ve never felt so frustrated. The dawning realization that there was no escape matching your slowly slipping sanity as you kick off the first stop of your world tour - Tokyo.
It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.
It’s in Tokyo that everything changes.
Electricity crackling in the air, deafening roars of your name in your ears - you stand center stage. This was where you belonged - where you felt alive.
Pouring your soul into your words, stage lights dance across your skin, as frantic as the adrenaline in your veins. The crowd before you was a living, breathing entity, swept away with energy and excitement.
The music swells to a crescendo as your voice carries across the arena, limelight following you spellbound.
In the intoxicating performance, you don’t notice a pair of widened green eyes doing the same, goosebumps rising along his skin. Gaze fixed on you with an intensity that rivaled the spotlight itself. A silent reverie.
As the final notes of your song echoed through the arena you felt a rush of euphoria wash over you. Lights dimming, you draw a long breath, savoring the crackling energy onstage. A high that left you craving for more.
With a grateful smile, you bow deeply, screams and applause reverberating in your ears like thunder.
The cheers continue to ring in your ears as you’re whisked away, backstage buzzing with excitement and anticipation over the special guests for the VIP event. Enveloped by your team, you navigate through the labyrinthine corridors of the arena.
You catch Toji’s eye from where he flanked your right, your brow raising ever-so-slightly as if silently asking, “C’mon, didn’t I kill it out there?”
But before you can decipher the fleeting expression on his face, the moment is shattered by a sudden commotion up front.
“Hey, over here! Is it true there's a stalker after you? Is it to boost album sales?”
“Can you confirm the rumors that you're cozying up with Satoru from Tokyo Special Grades? The fans want answers!”
“Hey! How do you respond to critics who call you a has-been? Come on, speak up!”
You’re barely given a second to breathe before the paparazzi descend upon you like vultures. Bodies jostling urgently as rapidfire questions and incessant flashes make you see stars behind your eyes.
Trying to block out the swarm of questions, you close your eyes amidst the dizzying chaos, trying to find some semblance of stability.
And stability finds its way in the strong arm that wraps protectively around you, pressing you close against a sculpted chest.
Toji.
“Don’ worry, princess, I’ll get you outta here.” hot breath brushing against your ear, sending shivers creeping down your spine.
Pulled impossible close to his muscled frame, his steady heartbeat grounds you - while yours stutters as Toji’s voice cuts through the clamor like a knife. “Back off, vultures. Show some respect or I’ll make sure ya regret it.”
Steely gaze almost provoking - as if anyone would dare challenge the imposing, almost frightening presence in the middle of the room. The paparazzi, momentarily stunned, falter in their pursuit, allowing Toji to carve a path through the chaos.
Hands still tight around you, as you’re hastily escorted away from the chaos, you steal a glance at Toji’s profile, illuminated by the harsh flashes of the cameras. Finding some intrusive little part of you that thrills at the raw intensity, cheeks flaring in response.
He’s so warm.
You could almost cry as those gaudy VIP doors swing open, swiftly ushering you to safety. They slam shut, sealing off the cacophony outside. In the soft lounge music wafting through the air, you’re left with the nagging awareness of Toji’s body heated against yours.
Embarrassment floods through you like a tidal wave as you register the way you’re still clinging on to him. Abruptly pushing away, you take a larger step back than was probably appropriate.
In the dimly lit room, you couldn’t make out exactly what was twinkling in Toji’s eyes as they flicker to you. But what you could see was that amused grin curling his lips as you uncharacteristically stumble over your words, “Thank you- Uh, for the way I-”
“Princess~!” Words choke in your throat as a flash of white and blue barrels into you, sending you reeling backward. Playful laughter ringing through the air.
“S-Satoru?” you stammer, caught off guard. Before you’ve fully recovered, he’s pulling you into a bruising hug, nearly knocking you off your feet.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” Satoru purrs, voice velvety as he leans in. “You absolutely killed it out there tonight.”
“Oh my gosh, Satoru! I haven’t seen you in forever.” A laugh escapes your lips, though the lingering warmth from Toji’s proximity still prickles at the edges of your consciousness. “What are you even doing here?”
Satoru chuckles, gaze lingering on you, “Couldn’t miss the biggest concert in Tokyo since ours, duh.” His energy was infectious, and you find yourself smiling along. “Thank you Satoru.”
As Satoru continues to chatter animatedly about the concert, you distinctly realize that Toji has slipped into the background. Where was he? You find your eyes darting around the room in search of his familiar presence, slowly noticing the lack of Satoru’s bandmates in the process.
Your curiosity piqued, you couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, where are the rest of Tokyo Special Grades? I thought you guys were inseparable”
He shrugs it off casually, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially “Rehearsal. Don’t let ‘em know I’m here.”
As you titter at his antics, he gives you a playful nudge, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So…since the band’s away, how about you and me grab a drink together?.”
Something heavy pools in your stomach as those familiar words ring in your ears, hanging in the air - you knew all too well what he meant.
Skin still tingling with the lingering heat of Toji’s touch, your eyes sweep the room for him one last time. Some strange part of your heart pangs when you find that those piercing green eyes, always studying you so intently, are nowhere to be found.
“Lead the way, Satoru.”
---
The world was rocking, as were Satoru’s fingers on you. Softly tracing along your collarbone, touch searing as he pushes you against the wall of your hotel room.
Shivers run down your spine, all the way to your heated core. Breaths mingling, a desperate hunger ignites in the air as your fingers just barely graze against the buttons of his overpriced button-up.
Tension reaching its peak, fingers hazily fumbling with those tedious buttons-
Bang!
You both startle as the door swings open, breaking the heady atmosphere inside. Dazed, you whirl your head towards the intruder standing at the door - Toji. Seems he had a penchant for dramatic entrances.
Toji stands in the doorway, his gaze dark and unreadable. Without a word, he strides into the room, narrowed eyes flickering between you and Satoru.
“What the hell is going on here?” Toji’s voice is low and dangerous, cutting through the tense silence hanging in the air.
Satoru tries to play it cool, though you catch his easy smirk faltering slightly, “Oh? The bodyguard, right? What brings you here, my man?”
Ignoring the question - and Satoru altogether - Toji turns to you, eyes never leaving yours. “24/7 means 24/7. As your bodyguard, I can’t permit some stranger to get too close.” he asserts.
Mind still burning with lust, you feel red-hot irritation simmering beneath your skin. Fists clenching at the tone that leaves no room for argument.
“I don’t recall signing up for a warden.” you snap, sharp and defiant.
Toji’s expression remains impassive, but there’s a glint of determination in his eyes. “I’m not here to argue, princess. My job here is just to keep you safe, princess.”
You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief - this was ridiculous. “Uh, newsflash, Toji. I can take care of myself just fine.”
“You little brat-”
Before the argument can escalate further, Satoru cuts in, his voice uncharacteristically calm and conciliatory. “Hey, it's okay, man. I’ll just leave,” he says, stepping away from you and raising his hands in surrender.
You shoot Satoru a look of frustration, torn between the desire for independence and for someone to fucking make you cum, and the unsettling feeling of vulnerability that Toji’s presence somehow seems to evoke. As the door slams shut - not before a playful hum of “Call me, princess~!” - a deafening silence envelopes the room.
The room that now feels too small. Too hot. Thighs still quivering in anticipation.
Shit.
Mind racing, you don’t catch the way Toji’s gaze softens slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, princess. But I can’t take any chances, I’m here to protect you.”
“Enough with this ‘princess’ crap.” Running a hand through your hair, you let out an exasperated sigh, trying desperately to quell the storm of emotions swirling uncomfortably inside you. “And protect me from what? A harmless hookup?”
“From whoever is sending those threats,” Toji growls. “Until we catch them, you’re not allowed to be alone with anyone.”
Frustration reaching a boiling point, you storm up to him. “Fine, then you can stay here and watch me 25/8 for all I care. But, what are you going to do about that?” each word punctuated by a hard poke to his sculpted chest, laced with defiance - but also something raw and primal.
Green eyes darkening with intensity, you watch his jaw clench in restraint. He takes a step impossibly close, the air crackling with something you couldn’t name.
“You don’t get to play games with me, princess,” he warns, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
But - as always - you refuse to back down. Heart racing, mind hazy, you stand close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. A hand reaching out to grasp his large ones, manicured nails digging into the heated skin. In one, fluid motion, you place his hand in between your skirt, heated core soaking through your thin panties.
“I’m not playing games, Toji.”
Before you can react, your back hits the wall. Surface cool on your heated skin. A brick-hard body is against yours, you could almost sink into him at how close he was pressed.
Heat rushing to your cheeks, slick gushing to your cunt, your eyes lock with Toji’s darkened ones. He murmurs, words low and making your pussy jump in anticipation, “Didn’t expect you to be so filthy, princess.”
You lean in, lips mere inches away from his, whispering seductively. “Oh you have no idea.”
You didn’t expect those to be the words that make him snap - then again, you didn’t expect him to snap so easily either.
Toji’s eyes widen slightly, his jaw dropping open as he processes your words. He stares at you darkly for a moment, gaze traveling over your flushed cheeks, your devilish grin, and finally settling on your heaving chest.
Toji pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other roughly tearing your skirt off your waist. Flimsy cloth hitting the carpeted floor.
“Hey! Those are Dolce and-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence before his lips capture yours. Words catching in your throat as his tongue plunges unforgivingly into your mouth.
Hands groping and teasing every inch of skin they could find. Kneading your breasts through your shirt, biting down hard on your bottom lip.
A desperate whine that you definitely would’ve been embarrassed about had you been in the right state of mind leaves your lips as something achingly hard grazes your core. Shit, you had an inkling but he was going to split you apart. Mindlessly wondering whether you’ll have to cancel the photoshoot tomorrow. Hips bucking for more more more-
“Patience, princess.” he murmurs, hotly against your lips. Thick fingers slipping beneath your panties - ripping them off. You gasp as the cold air hits your cunt, thighs quivering at the neat fingernail grazing your swollen folds. “You need to be taught a lesson first.”
You’re not in the mood for patience. But whatever retort gets stuck on the tip of your tongue as a long finger circles your throbbing clit. Tight, urgent little circles that inch you closer and closer to insanity. “F-faster-”
“You’ll take what I give, my lil’ slut.”
“I don’t have to listen to you.”
Ah, but alas - thank god for Toji Fushiguro being a merciful man. At least for the moment.
Pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, dropping to his knees with urgency of a madman. Gaze fiery fiery with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine - you were in for it.
Licking his lips, tongue catching on that small scar by the corner, he dives nose-deep into your needy pussy. Bed mere meters away, Toji takes you right against the wall.
His hungry gaze devours you just as greedily as the mouth on your cunt. “Ah! Hah- Oh, Toji!” you gasp, arching into his hurried yet expert tongue. Harsh, purposeful movements that send electric shocks straight to your core.
“Not Toji, princess.” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst.
Something hot and sticky coils at your stomach - maybe at the way his tongue was crooking just right to tease your dripping entrance, bullying its way past your swollen folds. Or maybe at the way the realization has your slick beading out of your pulsing pussy.
“D-daddy?” you whimper, almost-experimentally.
And apparently it was the right answer, as Toji lets out a guttural groan into your snug cunt. Nose catching against your abused clit, rubbing hurried little circles. Tongue stretching out your snug walls, pooling your juices, unforgivingly dipping in and out in and out in and-
Speeding up now, his tongue has you losing your mind in ways you didn’t even know were possible. “Hngh- faster. Fuck me like you want it, daddy.” you whine, hips grinding further into his mouth..
And he lets you. In your lust-addled mind you barely have time to think about this strange act of mercy - only thinking of how close you were. So close. So fucking close. Mere moments away from shattering completely. Mind filled with only Toji and his tongue and Toji-
“Didn’t think I’d be so nice to ya, did you, princess?”
Orgasm slipping through your fingers, your crash from euphoria matches that of your heart.
Ah, Toji could cream his pants at the way your face fell so adorably as he pulled away. Delicate strings of spit and slick still connecting him to your slutty pussy.
“Toji?” you mewl, bruised lips falling into a pretty pout that made him want to throw caution to the find and stuff you full of his cock right now. But no, he had to teach his lil’ princess a thing or two about not getting everything she wants.
“Patience, princess.” With a grin, Toji warns, voice husky and sending shivers down your spine and making you grind your hips against his lips. Before you can whine in disappointment, a sharp smack! cuts through the heady air. The sound hits you before the realization that Toji hit you.
A sharp slap against your ass, the impact shocking you briefly before arousal takes over. You yelp at the sting, eyes widening in surprise.
“Wha-”
“Count to ten, then I’ll let you cum. You need to learn a thing or two about listening, brat.”
You stare at him defiantly, your heart pounding in your chest. A silent staredown that only makes heat pool more and more desperately at your core. Deafening need, slick dripping down your legs pathetically.
“O-one.” you whisper, voice strained with frustration and barely audible.
He watches you like a predator stalking his prey, eyes never leaving your face. Smack!
His hand connects with your ass again, a low hum of appreciation at the mewl leaving your kiss-bitten lips at the pain and filthy pleasure. Your ass stinging as much as your dripping cunt.
“...two.”
Apparently approving of your obedience, he dives back in with a low growl. Burning his face between your thighs, because fuck oxygen - breathing couldn’t compare to how sweet you were on his tongue.
Lapping up your sensitive folds, scar rough against them, teasing. Edging your climax and your sanity like the merciless bastard he was. Smack!
“Hah- ah! Two- Oh, jus’ like that-” Broken, raw moans escape your lips as he continues his torture. Ah, he loved this view. The people’s princess, so teary and falling apart because of him.
In the obscenity of it all, thick fingers stuff themselves in your cunt. The lack of preparation makes you squeeze around Toji’s tongue as they pump into your sloppy hole relentlessly. In and out in and out-
Smack!
“Th-three- hngh-”
Purposefully missing that one spot Toji knew would have you seeing stars. You haven’t earned that yet.
Blood rushes straight to his cock as you throw your head back, letting out a strangled sob. “Daddy, let me cum. Wanna cum on your tongue. Ah-” Oh, you clever minx, knew exactly what made his leaking cock throb with need. For that you get two sharp smacks on each cheek.
“F-four. Five.” you’re in tears at this point. Delicate little streaks down your cheeks to where Toji had his face buried in your cunt.
“Tha’s right, princess.” Toji praises, voice thick with desire and sending vibrations that make your walls clench. “Tell me how badly you need it.”
Body convulsing uncontrollably around his hot tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge - only to reel you back again. Denying you. Chipping away at your sanity bit by bit. A hand reaches to grab a fistful of his silky black locks, tugging needily - and you get punished accordingly.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
“E-eight! Hngh- please.”
“Please!” you moan, voice raw with need and desperation. Finally breaking for him - being pushed this far with anyone before. “Please, let me cum. Please please wanna cum-.” Close. You were so close that it hurt.
Ever the merciful man, he forgives this little transgression. Only continuing to cup your sore cheeks possessively, hands mapping the expanse of your heated skin.
“Please, Daddy.” you choke, a broken whisper. Now exhausted, knees weakening, it’s all you can do to not collapse on the floor, Toji’s strong hold on your hip to control you being the only thing holding you up.
Several things happen at once. You barely even feel the final two, sharp slaps - too far gone to register anything other than the rough thumb pressing on your sensitive clit. Hard.
And then you’re cumming.
Body convulsing and bowing into him, crying out raw moans of Toji’s name as you cream around his tongue. Your vision blurs at the edges, grip searing on Toji’s hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling him impossibly closer to ride out your high on his pretty face.
White-hot pleasure courses through your entire body, thighs quivering delicately around his face as you chase peak after peak.
As the stars behind your eyes disappear into nothingness, you’re left limp and boneless, held up against the wall with a single, muscled hand.
Toji - ever the gentleman, supports you with a steady arm before you slip down the wall, valiant knees finally giving out.
Blinking your vision back, you catch a glimpse of his achingly hard erection. Straining painfully against his trousers, a dark patch right where his thick head was. And despite your severely fucked out state, your mouth still waters.
Obviously catching your line of sight, he adjusts his uncomfortably tight pants. Steering your still-lustfully delirious self to the bed. “You were such a good girl f’me, princess. Let’s stay that way, hm?”
You blink up at him, confusion clouding your mind. Did he just compliment you? You must be mistaken.
But as you look into his eyes, you see a genuine twinkle of fondness mixed in with the desire that makes your skin burn. A heady combination. One that makes your mind spin, even as you’re carefully placed on the soft bed. Even as he swiftly closes the door with a low whisper of “Rest now, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” leaving no room for argument.
Sinking into the soft mattress, a strange surge of euphoria rushes through you as you realize two things:
Nothing would ever be the same.
It was going to be your personal challenge to make Toji Fushiguro crack.
Heart racing, feet thumping tersely against the plush carpet, for perhaps the first time in years, Fushiguro Toji is taken aback. The heavenly sight of you falling apart underneath him searing into his brain. Something coiling uncomfortably in his stomach, rushing all the way to his throbbing dick. But, right now, the only thing he’s thinking of being to fucking find somewhere to fuck his fist to the memory.
---
Your third night in Tokyo was a whirlwind of lights and camera flashes. And yet, in the midst of it all you still escaped - this time with Toji - claiming “security talks”. Pulling him into an abandoned green room, your glossy lips capture his with searing passion. Pulling away teasingly, breathless, only once you were sure you’d kissed him silly and achingly hard. And promptly skipping away to bother your make-up artist.
Ah, yet the stubborn bastard still didn’t crack.
It’s in Melbourne where you learned that Toji was much more than just a bodyguard. Finally bothering him enough to join you out rather than shadow you for the first time. Dragging him to a tiny karaoke booth tucked away in a dimly lit corner of town, belting out your favorite tunes to him while he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. And if you caught a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, well, neither of you said anything.
Your glittering heels were placed teasingly in his lap, chattering away as he drove you two back, your favorite pastime as of late. A silent dare, almost goading. His steely gaze trained on the bustling road and that one annoying blue car trying to swerve him.
“So, Toji, in your military stint ever tried to sneak away incognito but wear a disguise so bad you end up on the front page?”
He chuckles, eyes flickering down at your feet resting comfortably on him. “Can’t say I have, but I once mistook a high-ranking officer for a recruit. Had him doing push-ups before I realized my mistake.”
You burst into laughter, sound echoing in the car. Feet brushing against him right there - just a little accident, right?
But it takes until Paris for you two to break.
In the chic confines of your favorite studio in Nanterre, the scent of freshly brewed coffee heavy in the air, you find yourself chattering away on call with Gojo Satoru. His voice crackling through the speaker amidst the glow of studio lights.
“That beat you sent is pure magic, Satoru. It’s perfect!” you hum, excitement bubbling in your voice as you bob your head to the soft music playing in the background.
Satoru’s response is immediate, enthusiasm matching yours, “See, what did I tell ya. Can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with. You sure I get no sneak peaks for this secret lil’ project of yours?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Thought so, but anyway, how’s the City of Love been treating you, darling?” he teases.
You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, “Please, Satoru. You know I’m too busy dodging Toji for any of that.”
Satoru chuckles knowingly on the other end of the line, “Ah yes. From what happened last time, I imagine he’s been a welcome distraction, huh? Hey, is his dick really as big as his BDE is?”
“Oh fuck off.” you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. “And for that, I’m leaving.”
Swiftly ending the call, you cut off Satoru’s protests. Slight embarrassment coursing through your veins at how apparently obvious you two had been. A strange pang of longing flickers in your chest as you realize you haven’t seen Toji all day - Nanami mentioned something about a security briefing for your closely upcoming Grammy performance.
You sigh at the irony of the situation - just when you thought you got that freedom you’d been yearning for so long, you find yourself wanting for that musclehead presence even more.
Shaking your head, you turn back to your mixing console, ready to throw yourself into the music once more. Yet before you could, your phone buzzes with a new notification. A quick glance reveals that familiar contact name and a series of messages that have your cheeks flaring once more.
Blind rat #4 🧿🧿:
You better not block me for this but is this secret project for that bodyguard? You whipped WHORE~~
LMAO JKJK IK you don’t write songs about other people.
Unless…
As that block button was tapped, it’s said that Satoru’s piercing shriek echoed across in all 23 wards of Tokyo - making the people fear an oncoming Godzilla attack.
“Damn Satoru.” you grumble, tossing your phone onto the leather sofa in the corner. “Always saying stupid thi-”
But as you turn around, your breath catches in your throat. There, standing in the doorway, is Toji. His presence filling the space, commanding attention with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
“Toji?” you breathe, surprise mingling with a rush of conflicting emotions. “I didn’t expect the briefing to end so soon-”
“What’s this about that brat Satoru, princess?” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly.
He raises his head to meet your gaze, and a jolt of electricity runs through your body. Oh, those eyes. Your skin feels heated in the crackling air. “Nothing.” you reply - almost suspiciously quickly - the words tumbling out in a rush, “Just Satoru being...well, Satoru.”
Toji’s lips twitch in a semblance of a smile, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes among that carnal look. “I see,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you. You have half the mind to step back - but why would you ever.
“Y’know, I didn’t think you still talk with that white-haired clown.” his minty breath fans your face, darkened eyes searching yours. And you can see the question forming in them before he even asks. “You still plan on fuckin’ him when you go back to Tokyo?”
And usually you’d bristle. Usually, that hardened part of you that never takes shit would rear her head and give Toji an earful. Usually. But right now, a dangerous idea was taking root in your head.
Heat rushing to your core at the look in his eyes that said he wanted to devour you alive, you simply tilt your head coyly.
“So what?” A smirk playing on your lips, “Gonna do something about it, daddy? Or are you just gonna leave me all hot and bothered like you have-”
Your back hits the leather sofa before you even realize what is happening.
Bouncing at the sheer force of his throw, you let out a yelp of surprise. Skirt riding up, legs splaying out so sinfully for him.
The cushion dips as he looms closer, approaching you unhurriedly like a predatory closing in on its prey. A dangerous little smirk playing on your lips, you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. A carnal part of you relishing in the way his eyes can’t seem to decide between your soaked panties and the way you bite your lips so coyly.
“If you’re that desperate, then you’re gonna get it, my lil’ slut”
He’s on top of you now, tongue hot against your neck, leaving heated, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. You yelp as sharp teeth dig into the soft skin. Hands exploring every inch of you, desperate for more - and you’re no better.
Sharp nails digging into that sinfully tight t-shirt, all but tearing it to shreds. Your mouth waters as it hits the floor, Toji’s chiseled body on full display. Your eyes greedily take in every curve and dip, hands reaching out to grope the toned skin. Pulling. Teasing. Not enough time in the world to savor the Adonis that was Toji Fushiguro.
His hands were pulling up your shirt haphazardly. Bunching your panties with two fingers, pulling down down down till your cunt was bare and spread open so shamefully for him. “Shit, so wet n’ ready. This for me or that brat, huh?” he grunts cruelly, lowering himself beside you to murmur in your ear.
“Now, on your knees, princess. Be a good lil’ slut for me and don’t make me wait.” breath hot against your ears, making you shudder so sinfully. It made him want to eat you alive.
You consider disobeying him, just to face his delicious punishment. But that predatory look in his eyes has you immediately dropping to the ground in front of him.
Your hungry gaze takes in the heavenly sight before you. Legs spread, eyes half-lidded, pants pulled down just enough so that his heavy, leaking cock bobbing enticingly in the air.
Eyes widening, your cunt clenches in both fear and anticipation. Shit, maybe this was why he was holding back.
He was big. Ridiculously big, and rock-hard. Furiously red with thick veins running down the side, glistening with precum.
“C’mon now, if you’re gonna act like such a slut then learn to take it like one, princess.” Saliva pools on your tongue, warm as it hits Toji’s thick tip, achingly hard. A carnal part of you relishes in the low hiss that leaves him.
Your tongue snakes out, unable to hold yourself back any longer. Swiping at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. The sinfully salty taste explodes on your tongue, sending shocks of pleasure right to your cunt.
You feel his intense gaze on you as your mouth wraps around his thick head, inching down slowly. Stretching your lips obscenely, filling you up in ways you never thought were possible.
Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pulses in your throat. It was overwhelming and everything you wanted to be doing right now.
Ah, but you should’ve known by now. Should’ve realized as your teary eyes look up to meet the dangerous glint in his.
With a feral groan, his hips thrust forward. You were too slow.
Hardening impossibly at the way you choke and gag around him, tears springing to your eyes. Using you in a way that was so debauched. “Hah- Fuck. love it when you sing, princess, but you look better choking on my cock.”
Your nose was buried in his pubic hair now, wet with saliva and precum. His heady, masculine scent filling your senses. Toji’s thrusts were jerky, desperate.
Grip searing on your scalp, Toji uses it as leverage as he fucks your face till his tip hits your poor, abused throat. Moving you up and down on his cock with mindless need, hips rutting with reckless abandon.
Yet, you wanted more. Needed more. More more more. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, splitting you open, making you come harder than you ever thought possible.
And you’re guessing it showed on your dazed eyes. Because a broken, dangerous laugh leaves him. His grip on your hair intensifies, pulling your head back roughly until your eyes water. “More? You want fucking more? Then prove it.”
Toji’s thrusts increase in speed, his raspy grunts becoming louder and louder as he rams his cock deeper into your mouth, your pussy throbbing in response.
You moan around his erection, unable to form coherent sentences due to his length stretching your throat.
Without hesitation, you reach up and grab his balls, massaging them firmly as you suck him deeper. Pressing right in between that one spot you knew would make him see stars. Pressing tight little circles. Over and over-
An appreciative groan leaving him, Toji’s thrusts become erratic. Movements growing frantic. “Fuck, Fuck, princess, you're going to be the death of me,” he curses, his voice strained.
You rub your thighs together desperately, relaxing your throat more, refusing to let go. Desperate to taste him, to experience the blissful agony of his seed painting your mouth. But when has Toji ever let you have your way? Never, that’s when.
Instead, he yanks your head back, pulling you off his cock with a rough, almost cruel motion. Your lips pop free, leaving his sensitive head exposed to the cool air. Gasping for breath, your chest heaves as you try to regain your composure.
Before you can even register what's happening, Toji pulls you into him, forcing you on your hands and knees. Large hands grasp your waist, holding you firmly in place. “Face down, ass up. You’re going to take it like a good little slut.”
Delicious goosebumps erupt down your spine. Licking a long, languid stripe down your back along them as you position yourself before him, Toji couldn’t help but huff out a dangerous laugh at your sinful gasp.
Mouth watering at your glistening cunt, clenching so pathetically around nothing, Toji pools your juices on two of his fingers. Promptly pushing them into his mouth with a lewd pop! groaning at his favorite taste. “Next time, I’m gonna eat out your pretty lil’ cunt while you suck on my cock, princess.”
“Please, daddy. Anything.”
Fingers circling your wet entrance, your words were music to Toji’s ears. Music that mingles with your needy, disappointed whine as he abruptly pulls away. But that doesn’t last too long - with low hiss, he buries his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt with almost no preparation.
You keen at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.
Toji was hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump sending white-hot pleasure down your spine.
“Ah- are- are you all the way in, daddy?” he hears you whimper, voice tinged with helpless desperation. Huffing out a laugh, Toji’s greedy gaze catches on the obscene sight of you sucking him up so sinfully below. “Not even close, princess.”
Pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts that have your hot cunt enveloping him deeper and deeper. Cock hardening impossibly at the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he rams into you. If you wanted it so bad, you were going to get all of it. A hoarse groan leaves him as his heavy balls meet your twitching folds, fat tip kissing your cervix - finally bottoming out.
Now, Toji knows he’s big - takes pride in it, in fact. But he’s never been more proud of the fact than right now, hungry gaze taking up the way your eyes widen in shock, snug walls clenching down with the struggle to accommodate him.
“You alright, princess?” he taunts, voice thick with satisfaction as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain. “Can’t your slutty lil’ pussy handle my cock?” Tell me, he as big as me?
And, of course, you snap back - because you’re mouthy even when you’re whining around his thick cock. Ah, next time he’s gotta make you choke on it for longer.
“Fuck you, daddy.” your response is a feral growl, hips desperately trying to fuck back into his. “If you’re not all talk then fuck me like you want to already.”
Smack!
A sharp slap stinging your cheek, you groan in response as absolutely raw, carnal fucking need courses through Toji’s veins. Intoxicating him. Oh, he was going to ruin you. Grinning cruelly, he utters “Then take it. And don’t fucking complain.”
With that, he begins to move. Not easing in, ramming into you with animalistic efficiency. Your ass stinging as each thrust has his hips meeting yours brutally. Toji’s pretty sure his hips were out of control at this point, high off your teary cries of pain and pleasure. That cluttered studio heady with sex and pure, animalistic desperation.”S’good- ah! S’too much-”
Smack!
There’s no going back now. Toji fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits, and you love every painful second of it.
Vision blurring at the edges, you reach out a hand to grab the armrest for stability. Body jerking with each movement, his bruising grip on your hips the only thing keeping you from being fucked off the sofa.
“Who’s fucking ruining you like this?”
“You! Jus’ like that. Fucking ruin me, daddy.” Legs shaking uncontrollably, arching impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock, you whine each time his length slides in and out of your swollen folds. “Harder…please, harder.” you plead, fucked out.
For perhaps the first time, he obliges, increasing his speed mindlessly. God, you were sure both of you were about to explode any second now.
Fucked out of your mind, you barely register the muscled front pressing into you, abs rippling against your back. Large hands snake from your hips, leaving deep, purple marks for you to remember him by.
Smack!
Another handprint on your ass, as you frantically move your hips to meet Toji’s unforgiving cadence. Sensing your urgency, one of his hands finds itself on your throbbing clit, drawing methodical, harsh circles on it. Pressing just enough to have you seeing stars being your eyes. And the other - digging into your neck.
Your frantic moans choke in your throat, feeling fucking delirious off both the change in angle and the hand around your throat. Eyes flashing at the lack of air and the blood roaring in your ears - and Toji.
“Open your mouth, princess.” he grows, voice dangerously close to your ears, cock still driving into yours with brutal precision. The intensity of the moment - electric.
Mindlessly, you comply, tongue lolling out so lewdly. That’s when he does it - without warning, he spits into your open mouth. Once. Twice. Three times.
Steady stream of saliva slightly missing your face - on purpose, you absentmindedly realize - as it dribbles over your kiss-bitten lips and down the side of your face. A marking.
“No one else gets to fuck you like this, princess.”
Hot on your tongue, sliding down to your throat. He tasted of such sin, it made your cunt clamp down hard.
“Now, what do good girls say?” he grits out, through clenched teeth. The absolute insanity in his voice matching the frenzy coiling inside of you.
“Thank you, daddy.”
You reach around to capture his lips with yours, nails digging into his neck hard enough to draw blood - a marking of your own. White-hot ropes of pleasure making you gasp into his lips - tender where his cock was unforgiving.
In the lewd haze of the moment you’re dimly aware of Toji’s body shuddering above you, throbbing cock twitching deeply in your pussy.
“Oh, fuck! M-hah- M’cumming, better take every drop like my good lil’ slut. Fuck.”
You flinch as he groans ragged profanities into your mouth. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name. Thick, hot ropes that paint your walls white. Two large arms wrap bruisingly tight around your waist, veins popping out as he crushes you impossibly close to him. Toji’s hips not giving up their torture on your abused, awaiting cunt, pumping his seed deeper and deeper.
Full. You feel so full. And so, so complete.
You can feel such an obscene mix of your slick and his cum mapping down your legs every time his hips slam into yours. Dripping onto the cushion, pooling at the sofa in a way so sloppy, you knew you’d have to scour online later for a replacement.
Stomach now feeling uncomfortably inflated and hot, vision blurry, you collapse onto the cushion. The last of your strength leaving you with the orgasm that you’re sure fried your brain. You mewl at both the sensitivity and the sudden emptiness as Toji pulls out with a wet pop!
A rush of cum gushes out of you, drenching both you and the cushion below. Limp and boneless beneath him, you let out a sigh at the heat of his release seeping into your skin.
A soft silence fills the room like a lullaby. Everything feels so heavy. So dizzying and so warm. You barely register the strong hands lifting you gently towards the direction of the bathroom. The only thing on your mind being Toji and what a privilege it was to fall asleep in someone’s arms. You wouldn’t really mind this every night…
And in the dim lighting of that heady studio, fucked to sleep and covered in sweat and his cum, Toji thinks you’ve never looked so beautiful.
His heart lurches as he realizes - in all of Paris, the one sight he wants to look at is you. His pretty popstar.
---
“For the last time. I don’t do celebrities, especially not spoiled pretty popstars.”
Undeterred, the blond man leans forward in his chair, his expression indiscernible behind those glasses. “We’re told you’re the best of the best, even from ex-military. And if money’s the issue then I’ll double- no, triple whatever you’re making right now.”
Jaw tightening, skepticism dripped from his words. “All this for some celebrity drama?”
“Fushiguro, we’re talking big people, and even bigger money. And a girl’s life in genuine danger on top of it all,” a hint of desperation creeping into words that cut through the tense air.
“Genuine danger, huh?”
Toji runs a hand through his hair, questioning what the fuck he got himself into by opening the door for this human definition of a stick up one’s ass. Mind racing, eyes darting around the room, they catch yours - twinkling on the glossy cover of some magazine thrown haphazardly on the table.
Traitorously, something prickly and uncomfortable settles in his stomach as the words ring in his ears.
Genuine danger.
Heaving out a sigh, he narrows his eyes at the man currently studying his reaction.
“A year. That’s it. No more, no less. I don’t care if that prima donna princess of yours begs on her knees otherwise.”
But right now, your twinkling gaze set on him, lips curved into a blinding smile as you waltz through Los Angeles International Airport - as much as you could with your entourage - some small, raw part of him thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this for a long, long time.
LAX was probably one of your favorite airports. Not because of its size or architecture, but because of the thrumming energy of the opportunity to come. Namely, your Grammy performance.
Eyes slightly heavy, yeah, you were cutting it close - to Nanami’s ever-graying hair at the stress. But hey - at least no paparazzi tipped off for your unexpected arrival.
You just couldn’t resist the temptation to push your departure off for a day. Taking the extra time to wander along the Seine with Toji, talking about everything from your new dance number for next month’s Madrid show to why Nanami was a masochist for staying in this industry, all the way to Toji’s military stories that even Hollywood couldn’t dream up.
The setting sun casting a soft glow on both of your uncanny disguises - your choice of course. A newfound understanding crackling between you two.
And right now, his presence steadfast behind yours as you weave through the bustling terminal, you feel a rush of excitement at finally performing that little project you’d been working on.
More specifically what Toji’s reaction to it would be. Would he love it? Would he hate it? Would he realize just what that inconspicuous voice memo you bothered him into was actually for?
But then came the real test: would he realize just who it was for?
The thought made you smirk inwardly. Imagine Toji’s face when he puts two and two together.
Turning around, you catch Toji’s eye, a mirthful glint dancing in yours. “So, Toji, ready to witness greatness at the Grammys?” you quip, tone playful as you bump shoulders with him. Of course, the man barely budges.
He raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “As long as I don't have to wear a tuxedo, princess.”
“Aww, and here I was thinking we could match.” you whine. Though a chuckle leaves your lips, “And that reminds me…” you trail off as your voice drops to a conspicuous whisper.
Delighting at the playful sigh that leaves his lips as Toji leans down, allowing you to whisper words meant for only him. “You better reward me after my performance, y’know. I remember someone saying something about ‘eating me out till I cry’”
“You won’t be getting any reward if you continue acting like such a slut, princess.” warm breath tickling your ear as he murmurs.
“If the shoe fits.” you bat your lashes, mockingly innocent.
“If the shoe fits then please get into the car. The driver’s here and the team are on their way.” Nanami’s no-nonsense voice rings out. Already sounding dangerously close to an impending stroke.
“Yes, mother.” you quip, stifling your laughter as you step outside. It’s a short walk to your destination, the cool morning breeze greeting you as you head for your waiting car, just stuck behind some slightly-oddly parked blue car.
Ah, that’s LA for you, you chuckle inwardly, walking towards it - that strangely familiar blue car. The one you’ve seen a few too many times these past few weeks in the corner of your vision.
Strange.
Steps slightly speeding up, a cold sweat trickles down your spine. Unease prickling at the back of your mind, something tells you you’re being watched. And not in the way of paparazzi snapping a stray picture.
Subconsciously, you take a half-glance inside the car - time freezes. Heart immediately lurching into your throat at the sight.
There.
The door swings open.
A flash of blue hair, one foot out of that dreaded blue car - is him. You don’t know how you knew it was him. You don’t know how you knew he was there. The only thing being your eyes locked on that glinting knife in his hand. Winking mockingly at you in the morning sun.
Gray eyes locked on yours, whirling with chilling maniacal intensity. The cool morning breeze feels icy against your skin as a primal fear claws at your insides once you realize the imminent danger.
Toji’s trained instincts kick into high gear, eyes locked with his. Positioning himself between you and the assailant, his hand reaches for the weapon concealed beneath his suit jacket. Only for them to stutter in midair as he realizes they’re still safely stored in his checked luggage. Unreachable.
Shit. Clever bastard.
Nanami moves with a swift grace, eyes scanning the surroundings for any nearby law enforcement.
Mahito’s lips curl into a malevolent smirk as he realizes the vulnerability, grip tightening on his knife as he takes a menacing step forward. The air so tense you found it hard to breathe.
“You.” the words ring venomously, panic surging within you. “You think you’re so high and mighty, huh?”
“Step back before you do something you regret, you freak.” Toji’s voice is steady, body poised for action. Eyes locked on every minute tremor of the knife in his hands.
His eyes wide and bloodshot, staring right into Toji - almost as if trying to look at you through him. “Little princess~” he taunts in an eerie sing-song voice. “Why did you leave me here all alone, I was lonely, y’know~ And this gorilla never left you alone, ah what a pain to follow you around. But I did it- of course, I did it for my princess.”
Another step forward.
No one engaged with Mahito’s delirious rambles. Nanami’s hand was firm on your shoulder, whispering in your ear to get away. Now.
But your mind was stuck on the words that cut through you like a knife - the knife that he was now slicing through the air in jagged, deranged motions. “She can’t leave. She belongs here with me.”
Before anyone can react, Mahito throws himself forward with startling speed. Glinting blade deadly through the air. You stagger backward, the world spinning in a dizzying blur of fear and desperation.
Toji springs into action with lightning speed, body lunging expertly. Hands deflecting the blade with a swift motion. Knife flashing mere millimeters away from his skin.
Yet Mahito continues struggling relentlessly. Each movement calculated and cold. Hand slashing at Toji as he ducks and weaves away, attempting to divert the attack away from you.
The grip on your shoulder tightens, “Let’s get away now. While he’s distracted.”
You’re being pulled away before you know it.
Movements sluggish in the air thick with tension and fear. Your body is frozen, ice running through your veins. Nanami’s urgent hold on your shoulder moving you away.
But your eyes remain locked on Toji.
On the way he swiftly tries to find an opening amidst the blur of movement, knife slashing away as if it were a game. You were fighting to look back now, body twisting against the one moving you away. Struggling to follow Toji’s powerful kick to Mahito’s midsection. The impact knocking the wind out of him, knife faltering. Yet rage still surging.
Hand coming down down down. Merciless metal meeting skin. Red-hot crimson flashing behind your eyes and staining the ground below Toji as he’s slashed viciously.
It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.
It’s in Los Angeles that you think you might lose him.
The sickening sound of metal against flesh echoing amidst the blood-curdling scream you don’t realize you let out.
The sound making Mahito falter for the briefest millisecond, a flicker of hesitation flitting across his twisted features.
And it’s all the opening Toji needs.
Launching himself at the man, colliding with a bone-jarring impact that has both bodies crashing to the ground.
A deadly struggle, and despite Mahito’s fierce grappling - fueled by pure madness - he’s no match for Toji’s punishing blows. Every strike clear and calculated, pinning his flailing hands to the ground.
The screech of metal against gravel and distant footsteps ring in your ears, as Toji wrestles the knife from his hands. Glinting metal skidding away.
For a fleeting moment, the world seems to hold its breath.
“You’re supposed to be with me.” Mahito's voice pierces through the din, voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m the one who’s been there for you ever since you stepped foot in that godforsaken agency. Me. It’s me.” he snarls. Eyes cutting into yours.
Takedown tightening, Toji pins his body tighter against the ground. “You don’t have the right to talk to her, you blue-haired freak. Be grateful we’re in broad daylight and I can’t rip you limb from limb for her.”
You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Toji’s strained yet still steady voice rings in your ears - in tune with the voices you’re now realizing were surrounding you. As uniform-clad figures rush into your circle of vision, you distinctly realize with a jolt that it’s over.
Knees weakening in relief, you feel them hit the gravel. It’s all over. You feel light-headed - absolutely delirious. Vision blurring with tears and all you can see is red red red.
Blood roaring in your ears, you miss Mahito’s shrieks as he’s restrained and escorted away. The only thing registering in your mind being the warm hand under your arm, pulling you up gently as if you were something so utterly precious.
Toji.
“Are you okay, princess? Need me to loosen another one of that bastard’s teeth?” he rumbles slowly, slightly breathless. As you cling onto the words like a lifeline, a fresh wave of tears prick your eyes at his uncharacteristically careful tone.
“Are you okay?” you repeat, words heavy with remorse as you blink at the sight of that stark red against his t-shirt. A deep gash running along his side that left Toji vulnerable in ways you knew he would never openly admit.
Seeing your shaken state, he lets out a sigh. Pulling you flush against his chest, careful to avoid his injury. “I’ll be fine princess.” he murmurs, quiet words strained and meant for only you, amidst the chaos in the background. You lean into his touch, reveling in the feeling of him being solid and whole and here. With you.
You think you could stay like that forever.
Ah, but one can’t get everything they want.
Nanami’s voice cuts through the fragile peace with his usual calm authority, “I've spoken with the authorities,” you whirl around to meet his exhausted gaze. “They’ve assured me that Mahito will be taken into custody, and measures are being put in place to prevent any future incidents.”
Eyes flitting between you and Toji, he continues, voice taking on a much softer tone. “There’s no need for you to attend the Grammys after all that happened, I understand and will contact them if you wish to stay here.” And with that, Nanami walks away to a nearby police officer, presumably to give a statement - but you knew better, grateful for the moment of privacy he’d given you two.
Right. The Grammys.
Part of you is relieved at the prospect of not having to pretend that everything is fine in front of the flashing cameras and millions of scrutinizing eyes. And the other part, well, you glance up at Toji.
Wide eyes meeting those green ones. Unspoken questions swirling between you two like a whirlwind. Is it really over? What does that mean for us? Will you stay?
Please stay.
“I don’t want to go,” you confess quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to stay here with you, make sure you’re okay.”
Toji’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth flickering in his usually steely eyes as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. “My princess worries about me, hm? I’ll be fine.” he reassures, yet words weak from the pain. “Go out there and kill it.”
And in the delicate tension of it all you find it in yourself to arch your eyebrow skeptically, “Fine? You’re bleeding out, Toji. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘fine’ to me.”
“I’ve had worse, I promise. Worst case scenario I track that freak down and break his arm.”
You let out a watery laugh as Toji leans down, hot breath fanning your face. His lips brush against yours in a tender kiss. A silent reassurance. But just as quickly as it began, he pulls back with a playful bite to your lower lip.
“Now go. Blow the overpriced silk pants off of all those overrated snobs. Trust me.”
You almost bristle at his words, but that twinkle of fondness in his eyes made all your inhibitions melt away - involuntarily, of course. Throat tight, you give an affirmative nod.
Now, Toji always did delight in catching you off guard. But right now, ignoring the fussing EMTs, watching you be hastily ushered away by your team - the words tumble out before he can stop them.
“Oi, princess.” he calls out, voice carrying over the chaos. “I love ya.”
And as he watched you trip over nothing but thin air, a lightheaded chuckle leaves him - maybe it was the bloodloss, probably it was that adorable look on your face. “Smooth, princess.” he laughs.
As you regain your composure and flip him off, promptly being whisked away by Nanami - who looks two steps into his grave already - Toji can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell within him. “Tha’s my girl,” he mutters to himself, a rare gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
---
“Ladies and gentlemen, music aficionados around the world. It is my pleasure to announce our next performance, a star who needs no introduction. Get ready to witness the talent, the charisma, and the sheer audacity of the one, the only-.”
Cameras flashing. Cheers roaring, The anticipation electric as your name echoes through the auditorium, the audience’s excitement reaching a fever pitch as you take to the stage.
“Buckle up, darlings, because this is ‘Government Hooker’!”
---
“They don’t call you pop royalty for nothing, huh? You're going to take over the charts with that one!”
“Girl, who was that sexyass voice in that song? Drop me his number if you aren’t already with him.”
“Stunning as usual, huh?”
The whirlwind of congratulations and praise envelop you back at the Grammys afterparty. Your hand throbs from being clutched so tightly, and you can’t help but smile at the adrenaline and euphoria thrumming through your veins, washing away most of what happened earlier today. Yeah, you killed it.
But as you navigate through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and posing for photos, a nagging part of your mind keeps returning to Toji. Red, red to match your gown. He should’ve been here with you tonight.
Nodding and smiling along at the compliments, you find yourself drifting away from the bustling center of the party. Constantly checking your phone for any updates other than Nanami’s “He’s alive.” text from a few hours ago.
Ah, there it is.
Finally reaching the exit, goosebumps erupt along your skin as you step out into the chilly night air. You’re momentarily blinded by the barrage of camera flashes from the waiting paparazzi outside. Their shouts merging into an indistinguishable cacophony.
Yet, you push forward, determined to reach your awaiting car.
Just as you approach the curb, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulls up beside you, tinted windows shielding the figure inside. God, you gotta remember to give Nanami a raise.
Swiftly sliding in, “Nanami you wouldn’t believe-”
“I’d hope I don’t look anything like that walking resignation letter.”
Your eyes widen in disbelief as you turn towards the figure seated beside you, and there he is. Toji.
All signature smirk and twinkling eyes despite the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso.
A gasp leaves as your eyes catch on them, a million thoughts running through your head at once. “Wait, what are you even doing here- You’re hurt, are you even okay- Should we call the ambulance? Those look like-”
“Woah woah, slow down princess. I’m clearly alive, hm? Why, shouldn’t your muse be there to personally pick you up?” he chuckles. “Besides, you killed it out there. That shit was playing was all that every radio was playing for the last hour.”
You can’t help but laugh at his teasing tone, relief flooding through you at the sound of his voice. “Well, you are the exception.” Reaching over and gently cupping his cheek, that small scar was rough against your thumb.
Leaning in, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you take in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the way his hand rests protectively on your thigh.
“Thank you.” you whisper, breath hot against his lips. And though you don’t specify for what - both of you know. Both of you understand. Your lips meet his in a lingering kiss, he tastes of mint and the anticipation of something new and freeing.
Pulling away slightly, his gaze meets yours with a rare little vulnerability. “Always, princess.” A raw second of silence.
One. Two. Before a smug smirk curls his lips, hand squeezing your thigh. “Now, I remember someone wanting to be eaten out till she cried as a reward?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? Right here, right now?”
“Think we’ll make the front page, princess?”
“I know so.”
It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.
It’s right now, giggling amidst the chaos of flashing cameras and forgotten afterparties, that you think you just might love him.
A/N. Actually frothing at the mouth I want him so bad y’all. Also, reader isn’t Lady Gaga, I just think the song fit.
Reblogs so, so appreciated.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fic#toji#toji fushiguro#tonywrites#gojo x reader#gojo smut
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU
✧･. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me!
“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle.
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72 types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer.
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types.
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.”
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop.
—
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in.
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself.
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.”
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles.
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening.
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.”
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car.
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car.
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.”
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop.
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...”
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.”
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.
“Y/n!” You mom gasps.
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better.
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad.
“Sweetheart...”
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.”
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket.
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?”
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport.
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior.
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.”
—
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.”
“Kay, thanks.” You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72.
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’ Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies.
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’
“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’
—
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents.
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different.
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile.
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces. You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile. Suguru has different plans.
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster. Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t.
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you.
“What?” You ask.
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.”
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it.
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say.
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare.
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost.
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling.
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—”
“I don’t care.”
“Please—”
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him.
—
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72.
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened.
‘Oh wow.’
‘I know.’
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring.
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care.
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box.
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.”
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh.
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight.
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.”
‘And what is that?’
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight.
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please...
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’
You nod.
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand.
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day...
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt.
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder.
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming.
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out.
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water.
“N-no!”
—
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress.
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously.
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie.
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad.
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back.
Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks.
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him.
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.
“No babydoll—”
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed.
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase.
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.” You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him.
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother.
“I know it’s a lot of information.”
“It is.”
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—”
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.
“Suguru—”
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face.
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.” You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair.
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you.
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.”
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.”
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders.
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks.
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips.
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man.
“You okay babydoll?”
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.”
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.”
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt.
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch.
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.” he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark.
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you.
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy.
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.
“T-that was—”
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.”
“Same.” You smile before wincing.
“What’s wrong babydoll.”
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble.
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly.
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.” He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto smut#jujutsu geto#geto scenarios#geto x y/n#geto x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
vent post lol
#Love how my sister is like wow ur so autistic haha#until the second I get upset bc a plan changes or a routine breaks#or she asks me to stop everything I’m doing to accommodate her#and then she’s like what’s your problem? What’s wrong with you??#Frustrated that I can’t explain that I finished my plan of cleaning for four hours with an hour and a half left#so that I can finally practice piano before going to move furniture w my other sister#without sounding like I’m selfish w a martyr complex.#I know what she’ll say to it anyway which is that it isn’t her fault#so why am I mad at her#But I’m not! I’m not! I’m just upset. And I’m doing#literally everything she asked but she’s still asking what my problem is.#love how it’s wow ur such an autistic nerd#until I take smth too literally so they all make fun of me for not obviously makinf the correct inference#or need a schedule#or get pissy when I have everything set up and I just earned this time with hours of work for them#work that tbh I should’ve had more help with#and yeah yeah I don’t do everything and I do try to stay away from that mindset#but it also doesn’t change the fact that I cleaned 85% of the house by myself for smth that the whole family is going to be at#and also mowed the lawn and took care of the animals and put away the groceries#boy. I’ll get over it I guess#like I said I’m not mad at her I get why she asked and it’s more important for her to write an essay than for me to practice#it’s just upsetting. it’s just upsetting.
0 notes
Text
I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight
What Are “What If” Videos?
These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.
Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.
They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.
In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.
In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.
Project Copy-Knight
Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.
And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.
It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.
I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:
On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.
The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.
Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.
I Need Your Help
I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.
So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.
------
See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/
4K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
joshpatmore-blog
josh patmore
warehouse13pod
Podcast 13 Blog
demigodrauhl
♥ The End? No, Beginning♥
nyxiswrites1200
𝑵𝒚𝒙𝒊𝒔 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔
dmwasi
Dm Wasi