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sutorus · 7 months

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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea.

PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader

WC: 5.1k whoops!

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol

A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!

you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class.

nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests.

it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago.

in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew.

sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way.

besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study.

toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats.

it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention.

you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met.

but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.

you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do.

with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin.

“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”

he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”

you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“

“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”

“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn.

without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”

an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.

you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa.

“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”

“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you.

you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.

“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”

that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager.

“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”

“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around.

toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat.

“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him.

you can feel your face flush.

“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything.

instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.

his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features.

he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with.

you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too.

you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you.

he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.

you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever.

so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation.

“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”

“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath.

“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”

toji scoffs.

“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”

you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”

toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”

oh, if he only knew.

“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”

toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused.

“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”

you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“

“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”

you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later.

“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“

you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.

you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.

he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol.

you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression.

his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes.

soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.

it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to.

“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”

“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”

toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.

your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.

toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.

“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”

a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.

he noticed.

he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight.

“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff.

he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.

god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants.

you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.

his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.

he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.

your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it.

toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life.

it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.

you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible.

you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip.

toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.

you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva.

“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”

you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him.

“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”

you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy.

toji’s having none of it.

he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat.

“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.”

you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.

toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs.

he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him.

he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.

“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.”

you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.

toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again.

you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth.

toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs.

you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.

toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants.

it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory.

it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.

he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him.

“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years.

you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of.

he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”

you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together.

toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours.

“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”

you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth.

you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.

when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you.

“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”

he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him.

you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself.

his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck.

“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.

you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him.

the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.

it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad.

your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer.

you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.

“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”

“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“

“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.

“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“

“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit.

you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him.

he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust.

“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”

“ahh, toji—“

“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”

“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer.

“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip.

“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”

“d—daddy?”

toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”

it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you.

he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill.

he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—

toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now.

you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you.

“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”

toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?”

“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.”

“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house.

there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice.

he grunts, speeding up his movements.

“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”

you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.

toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it.

“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”

you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.

toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words.

“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“

“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”

you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast.

“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”

he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck.

you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you.

once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass.

toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa.

“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”

you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you.

fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it.

toji finally addresses you.

“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”

you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”

he smirks.

“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”

A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months

Note

UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.

1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.

2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.

So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.

Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.

He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.

Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.

Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.

I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.

He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.

I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.

OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.

Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world

PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox

Original post

#aita #am i the asshole #aita update #the saga of proposal anon

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jjunieworld · 23 days

Text

LATHER ˒˒ 최수빈

to help raise money for charity you and your friends make your way over to the rich neighborhood to handwash cars in your best skimpy bathing suits and clothing.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi soobin x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 soyeon from gidle, chaewon from le sserafim, and karina from aespa

genre﹙📄﹚⸝⸝⸝ smut, rich playboy!soobin (like very rich), a lot of sexual innuendos, blonde!soobin

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ unprotected sex + pull-out method (be safe!!), kinda bratty!reader, mean dom!soobin, degradation kink, name calling (slut, whore, good girl), dacryphilia, blowjob, face fucking, cum swallowing, slight overstimulation (f. rec)

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ remember everyone, every body is a bikini body can i get an amen?!!?! :D think of this as the start of my hot girl summer writing era lmaoo（ゝ。∂）this was really pushing my wc of drabbles… lol sorry, what can i say! i hope you enjoy!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

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you huffed loudly as you tried to pull down the smallest shorts you’ve ever worn. when they didn’t budge, you slumped into the chair at the stand you and your friends were currently setting up. at least you weren’t that hot with your bikini top and jean shorts that barely covered your ass in the summer sun. for charity, you thought, it’s all for charity.

“alright, i think everything is good,” soyeon said, as her eyes scanned the stand. you, soyeon, chaewon, and karina were on the sidewalk in some rich neighborhood to handwash cars for this charity program you’re all volunteering for.

karina got up from the grass where she was filling water balloons and placing them in a bucket, “water balloons are done! are we ready to get started?” there was a piece of paper on the bucket that read ‘$20 TO GET THESE GIRLS SOAKED!’ on it. before soyeon could reply, chaewon walked up to you three.

“i already got a couple offers—they’re paying big money to see us drenched and washing their cars,” chaewon said as she sat on the plastic chair next to you. soyeon scoffed a little and rolled her eyes as she looked around to the various large and elaborate houses. there were already some men waiting on their porches or flat out in their yards with a chair and a beer.

one man in particular had his eyes on you this whole time. he was one of the ones sitting in his yard—sunglasses low on his nose bridge as he sipped from whatever beer he had. his blonde hair and white button up shirt made him stand out in contrast to the green grass behind him. you gave him a small and sweet smile while trying to make it seem like you didn’t notice his persistent staring. a smirk grew on his face and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. men are so easy, you thought.

the whole idea to even do this car washing service came from soyeon, surprisingly. in her own words, “let’s take advantage of shitty rich men for charity money!” it wasn’t a bad idea—you even suggested that you continue the car washing service in other neighborhoods too.

soyeon grabbed the megaphone from the table and said into it, “all right, gentlemen! who’s ready to get wet?! starting prices are on the sign above me and remember, it costs extra if you want something special! let’s raise some money for charity!” the rest of you all started whooping and cheering as all the men came up to you four like moths to a flame.

you were in the process of taking a lot of twenty dollar bills and passing out water balloons whenever the man from the yard who had been eying you finally started to approach. you had to tear your eyes away from him when a water balloon hit your chest, soaking your bikini top in the process. turning to the culprit with a shocked screech, chaewon smiled at you.

chaewon was completely drenched and sudsy from the car her and soyeon just washed. she held an open water bottle in her hand and you knew exactly what she was about to do with it. “chaewon!” you laughed as you looked at the water dripping off of you. you peeled some of the green balloon off that stuck to you.

“the guy who’s been eyefucking you is coming over, be ready,” she said lowly as she poured the water over your shoulders. karina smirked at you as she took over handling the water balloons. chaewon walked back to the table and you turned to greet the man.

his eyes trailed up and down your—now soaked—body, especially the red bikini top that covered your boobs. he took a water balloon from karina, pressing the twenty dollars into her open hand, and made his way to you. “need any more help getting wet?” he asked you with a sly grin.

now that he was up close, he was really attractive. he also didn’t look that much older than you, which surprised you slightly. you gave him an innocent smile, he was probably some billionaire’s son. “for charity? of course i am, if you’re offering!” you exclaimed as you held out your arms and prepped yourself to be hit with the water balloon.

instead of throwing the balloon he latched his finger underneath the strap of your bikini top. “what if i want a special offer?” he leaned into you and said lowly near the shell of your ear. your faces were inches away from each other as he looked you in your eyes and awaited your answer. the strap of your bikini top snapped back down onto your shoulder as he let go of it.

you could feel heat spread across your body, especially towards the pit of your belly. now, you weren’t really one for a casual—or not so casual—hookup with a stranger, but you were willing to make an exception for a good cause. besides, he was just so alluring. if you weren’t already so wet, you’d bet your panties would be soaked right now.

you looked at him through hooded lids and said lowly, “you’re gonna have to make a generous donation to charity if you want to fuck me, stranger.” his smirk turned into a slick smile.

“name your price and i’ll double it,” he replied, “and it’s soobin.” you licked your lips in thought and his eyes followed the motion. how much could you squeeze from him before he retracted his offer? just how badly did he want to fuck you? you debated for a moment on the price.

“one million dollars!” you settled on, raising a brow at soobin as you lifted your chin. soobin broke out into a playful laugh and you watched his reaction. he began nodding, like it meant nothing to him.

“two million it is!” he replied and the two of you made your way over to the table where the credit card reader was. soyeon’s eyes nearly fell out as she looked at the amount soobin transferred, and yours almost did too when you leaned over to look at the screen. instead of transferring over two million dollars, he transferred over four million.

soobin turned to you and smiled, “for the pretty girl in front of me.” you thanked him with wide eyes. you turned to soyeon and she mirrored your expression as she mouthed, “four million?!”

you turned back to soobin, “i hope you don’t mind waiting for a few moments. i have to wash this car quickly.” soobin shook his head and crossed his arms. “take all the time you need,” he replied.

smiling, you told him you’d be right back. as you were walking away, you heard soyeon cheekily say, “you can set up a chair and watch her if you so desire.” you helped karina grab the soap and brushes and the two of you made your way over to one of the cars waiting to be washed. when the two of you finished, you were completely drenched from head to toe and lathered in soap.

soobin had taken up soyeon’s offer and watched you the entire time. he came up to you with a towel in his hand that he outstretched towards you. you thanked him and dried yourself off as best as you could and tried to get most of the soap off. soobin trailed the tips of his fingers along your jaw, “ready?”

his fingers lifted up your chin so that you looked at him. suddenly flustered as the reality of what you were about to do hit you, all you could manage to do was nod in reply. soobin smiled and took your hand as he led you back to his house. you looked over your shoulder at karina, who was now standing with chaewon as the two of them made kissy faces at you and laughed at how your cheeks heated further from it.

the inside of his house was just as nice as the outside, but you barely got to look around before lips were pressing kisses to your neck. soobin wasted no time with you as he backed you up towards the living room and pushed you down onto the couch. his eyes were dark and full of lust and it made him look like a completely different person than the one you knew just a few seconds ago.

“take your clothes off,” he demanded as he unbuttoned his shorts. he pulled them down, revealing his bulging erection, as you crossed your legs and leaned forward slightly. “why don’t you take them off for me?” you challenged.

the corner of soobin’s mouth lifted as he took a step towards you. his tall figure hovered over yours as he hooked his fingers under your bikini straps and pulled them down. goosebumps raised along your skin where he touched and a shiver ran up your spin when he started to untie your bikini top at your back. once it was untied, he tossed it to the side onto the couch.

you shivered slightly as a cool chill swept over your now exposed breasts, making your nipples perk up. soobin rubbed his thumbs over them as he grabbed your breasts. “so beautiful…” he muttered to himself. his fingers trailed down your stomach and stopped just above the hem of your jean shorts. he looked up at you briefly, darkly, and you hooked your thumbs onto the fabric and pulled it down along with your panties until you were now completely naked under him.

soobin’s eyes raised to connect with yours, “now, are you gonna suck my cock or do i have pay more money, you fucking whore?” you reached for the band of his boxers but he slapped your hands away.

soobin swiped his thumb across your lips, “open.” you did as you were told, mouth open wide with your tongue hanging out as you waited.

“good girl,” soobin smiled. he pulled down his boxers, hard cock slapping against his stomach. you faltered, closing your mouth as you saw just how big he was. soobin pumped himself a couple times before looking at you with a raised brow.

you shook your head a little, ready to speak about how you definitely weren’t fitting him in your mouth before soobin roughly grabbed your chin. “didn’t i say open?” he asked you before pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. you whimpered into the brief kiss before he pulled away and brought your lips to the tip of his cock.

your mouth opened wider willingly for soobin as you began to swallow him inch by inch. tears pricked in your eyes and you looked up at him when you were about halfway down his cock. soobin’s head was thrown back as small whines left his lips. his hands were entangled in your wet hair, aiding you.

when you stopped, already feeling him at the back of your throat, he looked down at you and moved your head down further. “you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” soobin asked you and you nodded weakly, tears streaming down your cheeks. “so fucking take it,” he added.

soobin began thrusting into your throat, grunting in pleasure as you moved up and down him. soon, his mouth hung open as warm cum spilled down your throat with his release. soobin pulled you off him, thumb catching his cum that spilled out and pushing it back into your mouth. “swallow,” he demanded, “all of it.” your brows furrowed at the salty taste and you swallowed thickly, whimpering at the pain of your bruised throat.

“such a slut…” he trailed when you opened your mouth to show how you swallowed all of his cum. your hips rolled against the couch, needing any bit of friction you can get. “soobin, please…” you whined hoarsely. you needed to feel him inside you. you need to feel how much he stretched out your aching pussy.

“turn around. bend over the top of the couch,” soobin told you. you turned and got up onto the couch, spreading your legs and bending so your ass was in the air for him. his hand smoothed over the curves of your body as he spread you apart.

“already so wet and i haven’t even touched you… you want me to stick my cock inside you, huh, you slut? fill you up?” soobin asked you as he mockingly rubbed his tip against your wet entrance. you bit your bottom lip and nodded, hips pushing back onto him as you stared at him desperately.

“please,” you whined again, “want you to fill me up…” soobin roughly pushed into you and you let out a loud gasp from the suddenness. he pounded into you rigorously, big hands gripping onto your hips as he pulled you towards him to match his pace.

you cried out as your thighs began to tremble. “s-soobin… gonna cum!” you whimpered, biting down hard to try and silence your moans but to no avail.

“yeah? you like that?” soobin hissed between moans as he fucked into you harder, “you like me fucking you like this, whore? you wanna cum around my cock like a good girl?” you nodded desperately and buried your face into your arms as you cried out again from his tip hitting your cervix. the rope in you snapped and your warm cum leaked down soobin’s cock as he continued fucking you, leaving a creamy white ring around his base.

wet sounds filled his living room as you gripped onto the cushion of his couch, “t-too much!” tears wet your cheeks as you looked back at him with furrowed brows.

soobin laughed humorlessly, but it was staggered. he breathed heavily as he pulled you up from the couch, “take it like the slut that you are.” you felt him twitch and he quickly pulled out of you. whining at the sudden loss, soobin flipped you around and cursed lowly before he began pumping his cum covered cock rapidly over your boobs.

his cum shot out onto them, painting them a pretty white as soobin whimpered. he took your chin again and brought his lips to yours roughly as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer as the kiss deepened.

once both of your lungs were on fire, soobin pulled away a little and you could feel the smile on his lips. he pressed another quick kiss to your lips, “i bet your charity will be very pleased with my donation.”

soobin pulled away fully and you shied away from his stare with heated cheeks. the two of you got cleaned up and made your way back out to your charity event. it was dusk now and it seemed like the girls were just about to start wrapping everything up. “the prodigal daughter returns!” soyeon exclaimed, causing the others to laugh.

you hid your face in your hands as you helped them clean up. the four of you ended up raising almost seven million dollars for your charity that day, and your friends made sure to thank “mr. four million.”

taglist: @my313 @naomiarai @lunathewritingcat @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @yeonjunsfox @jeonghaniehaee

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miinatozakiii · 3 months

Text

tutor perks

park jihyo x fem!reader ; fluff, smut ; pt. 2

synopsis: the kid you’re tutoring has a really sweet, charming hot aunt.

warnings: alcohol ; not proofread so many spelling and grammatical errors (probably) ; mmm smut ; smut; and smut ; praise ; overstimulation ; almost fucking in the fancy bathroom ; reader ruined by jihyo ; men mentioned yuck!! ; food ; jihyo is like seven years older than reader ; mmm anything else i’ve missed ; physics mentioned 😵‍💫

a/n: i need her so bad like

(um ALSO i wrote half of this on my phone (that era was...))

you’re assigned to tutor a high school student, some junior boy named matthew park that’s falling behind in a couple of subjects. the lady at the front office had provided you directions to the library, but still, it took you a few wrong turns and another ask to actually get there.

walking in, you notice the lively yet quiet ambiance filling the room. there are groups of students studying together, giggling and pushing each other around as they do so. another group seems to be much more focused than the others, all furrowing their brows while examining whatever paper is on the table.

you scan the room and look for a guy who should be alone, and to the right, you spot just that.

he’s hunched over a little and his eyes are glued to the phone in his right hand while he spins a pencil with the other hand. the guy has on a green crewneck sweater and the headphones he wears squish some of his dark hair, which is parted messily in the middle. you tap on his desk subtly—he looks up with raised brows and takes off his headphones.

you shoot a friendly smile and begin to speak, “hi, are you—“

“matthew, yeah.” he interrupts, “matt is fine.”

his voice is pretty low, and something about his energy and mannerisms tell you that he’s some type of athlete. he runs a hand through his hair as you sit down next to him and fixes his posture. at least he has some manners, unlike the type of athletes you had to deal with a few years ago.

“i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” you greet, sticking out your hand—which matt takes—and shaking his bigger, rougher one.

you clear your throat and look at the slightly creased notes on the table accompanied by the spiral notebook and green folder. setting down your own bag on the floor, you ask, “so, what is it that you’re struggling with the most?”

matt glances at the entrance for a brief moment then looks down at the work in front of him and clenches his jaw, crossing his arms.

“physics and precalculus.” he simply says, his voice seeming small and ashamed. you glance over towards where he was before, catching a group of five teenagers—all seemingly athletic from the apparel they wear—and start to catch onto his sudden bashful demeanor.

“alright, i can help you with that.” you assure, “i’ll try to make this quick and do the best i can to help, just let me know what you want me to explain.”

matt nods, picking up the pencil and huffing.

after tutoring math and reliving your high school physics trauma, you’re headed out the entrance of the library and trying to find your way to the main doors.

“wait!” a voice calls out, “y/n, was it?”

turning around, you stand a few feet away from matt, whose headphones are resting around his neck comfortably. he rubs his neck and then pinches the bridge of his nose before shutting his eyes tightly.

you tilt your head, wondering what this boy needs; was it some extra notes or help?

“yes?”

“i um,” he begins, tensing his jaw and shaking his head. “i don’t know if this is appropriate to ask you since you’re a tutor—and i swear i’m not hitting on you!” he catches himself, groaning after he speaks. “i just, don’t want to be seen getting tutored, it’s embarrassing because i’m… i’m not doing well academically right now.”

“matt, it’s okay, don’t feel—”

“stop,” he says bluntly. “look, you were probably in my place a couple of years ago or something, i don’t know. just, i don’t like being seen like this because i used to be better, but my professors and everything…”

“i get that, we can work it out! i was actually really good at physics and i know how bad it can be, i was there and precalculus is pretty simple to me.”

“yes and thank you, i just wanted to ask if we could change locations. somewhere that’s not where i go to school.”

“where were you thinking matt?” you ask, quirking a brow and ignoring the little buzz from your phone that’s in your pocket.

he sighs and repeats, “before i ask; i’m not hitting on you, i swear to god.”

“matt if you’re insisting some type of café i’m fine with that, people study there all the-“

“no, i’d be recognized there too.” he mumbles. “can you just come over to my house? i’ll even have my aunt texting you to say it’s okay, i don’t know if you need that confirmation or whatever, i mean, i’m a minor and i get that it might be iffy.”

“oh, i see.” you mutter in response. “i mean, we can do that, just have your aunt text me, yeah?”

“okay.” he responds, “can we do this thursday? i have a physics test on friday.”

“that’s fine, i’ll do my best to help you out matt.”

he smiles gratefully. “thank you y/n.”

once you’re out of your car after parking near the curb across the street, you get a real good view of matt’s house and damn, the place is nice.

it’s pretty big and modern, but not too modern that it’s uncomfortable, it just stands out.

you walk down the little pathway towards the door, which is illuminated by dimmed, warm lights, and tilt your neck to the side to crack it before knocking. a few moments later, you hear the locks click as they turn and the door opens, matt opens it and he’s wearing some white t-shirt, which is paired with black sweatpants.

“thank you for coming, and again, i swear i’m not hitting on you.”

“matt, it would be very illegal for me to do anything like that with you. i get it, seriously.”

“just making sure.” he says, “come in, my aunt is coming home soon.”

his aunt had sent you a text asking if you were his tutor, and she had thanked you for offering such assistance to her nephew. the lady—his aunt—seemed sweet. her tone via text and the amusing emojis she used had given you this image of some woman in her 40s or 50s, probably baking cookies and thanking you with a warm hug for helping her dear relative. you’ll meet her later; hopefully, she does end up giving you cookies.

matt leads you to the dining area and as you make your way there, the aroma of vanilla fills the air. maybe it was the cookies that were waiting for you, or you’re just really hungry and craving something sweet.

“i have the things i need to study, he gave us this study guide and i have some questions regarding the velocity equations.” he explains, but stops himself in his tracks and mutters an “ah,” before asking, “did you want anything to drink?”

“no, no.” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “let’s get started, shall we?”

the rhythmic ticking of the clock echoed through the room as you continued to guide matt through the complexities of his physics homework. frustrated groans and muttered curses painted a vivid picture of the challenges he was enduring—in this case, one of the most dreadful subjects ever—and you found yourself helping him whenever you could.

as the sounds of the front door unlocking reached your ears, both you and matt instinctively turned towards the entrance. matt, eager to get a small break from the terrible page of paper in front of him, leapt up to open the door just as it swung ajar.

"hey, auntie," he greeted, the familial connection evident in his tone.

“hi matt, there are some groceries i need you to take in, would you mind helping me out?”

“no not at all,” he says, then excuses himself to go help out with the groceries.

the figure that emerged into the room drew your attention like a magnetic force. matt's aunt strode in with an air of authority that commanded immediate respect. your jaw tensed as you observed her approach, an almost instinctive reaction to the oddly powerful aura exuded from her. how crazy it was for a woman who’s just appeared to have you sit up in your seat.

she was not what you expected—a far cry from the stereotypical image you had of aunts in their 40s or 50s, definitely not as old as you had assumed. instead, she carried an ageless poise, appearing young but undeniably mature. dressed in a black blazer that teased the line between formal and casual, ending provocatively above her knees, she was a vision that held your gaze captive.

however, it wasn't just the flawless outfit that ensnared your attention. it was the remarkable contours of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones that had your jaw dropping just barely as you were in your trance. her steps echoed with a strange power, and even in her approach, you couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation just by existing within her proximity.

as matt’s aunt neared, her gaze locked onto yours—a gaze that felt both deathly and tremendously allurin — then, she smiled, a shift in demeanor that caught you off guard. the stern, professional aura melted away, replaced by a wonderfully cute smile that seemed to rival her intimidating presence.

you—caught in a momentary trance—couldn't help but reciprocate with a dorky smile, your hand instinctively moving to fix your hair, as if trying to match the sudden change in atmosphere. what a mess you were for someone’s aunt you’ve just laid your eyes on.

"ah, you're y/n, matt's tutor, am i correct?" she inquired, her voice sent a ripple of warmth through the room. the cadence of her words held a subtle allure, a tone that rang with confidence and undeniable charm. her voice was a little on the deeper end, but regardless it was hot and you could for sure get used to it.

you managed to nod, finding your voice despite the sudden whirlwind of emotions. "yes, that's me. nice to meet you, miss park."

“no need to be so formal hon.” she chuckles, pleased. “you can call me jihyo.” she assures with a smile. jihyo stretches out her hand and you take it, her hands are soft and smaller than yours, and her nails well manicured. “you have nice hands y/n.”

that is such a crazy statement coming from someone’s beautiful, striking aunt who you’ve met for the first time ever and just now. your cheeks flush and you laugh shyly before responding, “thank you, your hands are um, they’re nice too.”

after realizing that you’ve been holding this woman’s hand for too long, you pull away and run a hand through your hair again. jihyo smiles at you before walking over to the desk and examining the paper, she sighs and raises her brows.

“ah, physics, i was never good at that when i was in high school.”

“yes it’s something a lot of people struggled with in high school, i was lucky to be able to do well in that class.” you shrug, and jihyo looks at you impressed.

“i see, you must be smart huh? and how old are you sweetheart?”

your knees almost give up on you after this crazy hot woman just called you sweetheart, yet you manage to respond to her without stuttering or sounding like a fool. “i’m 20.”

“ah, pretty young huh. you’re in college?”

“yeah. education major, actually.”

“how cute.” she responds amusingly, “well, thank you again for teaching my nephew. i’ll be upstairs, just send a text or shout if he’s a hassle. thanks hon.”

jihyo shoots you a grateful smile before patting you on the shoulder; you might just die right then and there. you gulp lightly and manage to choke out a response, “y-yeah, no problem.” which makes the older woman giggle softly before leaving.

you have got to get a grip.

the woman you’ve interacted with for no more than three minutes surely left a mark with her first impression. now you’re putting more effort into your appearance than you did for that date you had three weeks ago with the girl sarah set you up with.

you slip into a white graphic baby tee that effortlessly molds around your figure, the perfect balance of snug and comfortable. the tee you were gifted is paired with your beloved thrifted boyfriend jeans, their wash perfectly complements your top and if you were to stretch just a little bit, jihyo would get a glimpse of the line that runs down your tummy. a hint of effortlessness fills the air as you tie up the upper half of your hair, allowing loose strands to gently caress your shoulders and frame your face. light and natural makeup enhances your best features, purposefully done to emphasize your appeal with a touch of ease.

when you reach the front door of matt’s house, you brush a strand of hair out and pat down the black cardigan you have on before knocking on it three times. the familiar teenage boy opens it up and greets you with a smile, inviting you in.

everything goes as usual: you situate yourself in a different room this time and matt hands you his assignments. you take your time to give them a good look, and then ask him what he needs help with. this time he needs help with precalculus, and thankfully, you’re pretty good at that too.

you watch him work on the assignments for a bit and start to get thirsty, and then you realize you’ve forgotten your water bottle on the counter in your small apartment.

“ah i forgot my bottle… could i get some water?” you ask him, and he nods without looking away from the paper.

“yeah, the kitchen is down the hall to the right. there’s bottles in the fridge. could you grab me a coke zero?”

“yeah, thanks, i’ll be quick. just work on these for the time being.” he hums in response to you and continues to write down various messy scribbles while solving some type of math problem he’s been assigned.

you do as he says: walk down the hall and to the right to enter the familiar kitchen you were near last time and you’re met with the familiar older woman that had you all flustered before. she’s standing by the stove and cooking something up and it smells great. awkwardly, you walk over to the fridge and she turns after catching you in her peripheral.

she smiles immediately upon meeting your presence.

“y/n! hi honey, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo greets, “i’ve been wanting to see you again.”

“you have?” your cheeks flush immediately, and you manage to recompose yourself, clearing your throat before responding,, “it’s nice to see you too..”

jihyo looks you up and down, eyes pausing for two seconds on the baby tee hugging your figure before meeting your eyes again. her look does things that she wants her hands doing, but that’s for her to know.

“did you need anything sweetheart?” she asks, raising a brow. her question doesn’t process through your head until a few moments after. you were too busy admiring her from head to toe, taking in her features, the casual outfit she has on—eyes enjoying the view of her cleavage that slightly shows in that black tank top she wears.

you clear your throat again.

“oh i was just getting some drinks for matt and i.” you respond, quickly darting your eyes away from her chest.

the older woman giggles amusingly, “take whatever you’d like from there.”

“thank you miss— i mean, jihyo. it’s fine really, just thirsty and matt wants a coke zero, haha.”

“alright~” she says, dragging her response teasingly. “just let me know, ‘kay?”

“yeah, thanks.” you smile sheepishly and nod, then grab the drinks you almost forgot about before walking away.

jihyo looks you up and down as you step into the hall, smirking a bit before going back to cook the dinner she’d been preparing.

when you get back to the room where you had been tutoring, you spot matt, who is still writing down some equation down on his paper. he looks up once he hears you, then smiles after seeing the coca-cola in your hand.

“here’s your drink.” you smile.

“thanks.”

“it’s no problem, your aunt told me to grab as much as i’d like. is she always so… sweet?”

“i mean, i guess so. she’s pretty laid back with my friends as long as we don’t do too much.” matt opens the can and shakes his head as a small laugh slips out. “she’s definitely more generous with you, i can tell. she asked me about you actually.”

“she what?” your eyes widen and your head turns. “what did she ask?”

“nothing too important, just when you’d be over again.” matt shrugs, then his adam’s apple moves up and down whilst his neck muscles tense and relax as he gulps down the carbonated drink. “damn this is fizzy—” he says, then coughs. “fuck.”

matt leaves you with an awareness of jihyo’s curiousity towards your own self, and now you’re trying to focus on tutoring the kid whilst thinking of his aunt.

“good job matt, i can see you’re already getting much better. the concepts and formulas seem to be clicking, yeah?” you praise, he nods. matt stretches his arms out and you roll your shoulders back to release some tension.

after helping him tidy up, you make sure everything is back in your own tote bag that you had brought. matt turns towards the entrance to the room and his eyebrows raise a bit, then you turn and see the same woman. your jaw tenses—lips part slightly too.

jihyo walks in and the sway of her hips isn’t unnoticeable. she looks at the two of you, eyes lingering on you longer than her own nephew, then beams. “matt, help me set up dinner will you?”

“mhm, gotchu. what’s for dinner by the way?”

“steak and pasta, go mix up the pasta would you?”

“yes aunt hyo.” matt complies, then shoots you a grateful grin before standing up with an exaggerated, tired sigh. he walks past jihyo, leaving the two of you alone.

your heart beats embarrassingly fast once matt is gone, it thumps so hard in your chest that you’re afraid that jihyo may hear.

“done for the day?” jihyo questions, walking over to you.

you gulp. “yeah, just finished actually.”

“i see, you must be hungry.” then jihyo locks eyes with you, and you genuinely think it might be something more—or maybe you’re delusional—who knows. “stay for dinner.”

okay maybe it’s something more, or you’re just a desperate, lovesick gay college student that’s borderline head over heels.

“oh it’s fine, really.” you say it with uncertainty, waving your hands in the air with an awkward smile. “i don’t want to trouble you.”

“it’d be anything but a trouble y/n.” jihyo counters, “if anything the trouble would be letting a pretty lady like you out my house with an empty stomach.”

jihyo places her hand on your shoulder, then squeezes it lightly. her eyes have you paralyzed in place, drilling into your pupils and then finding their attention on your lips. jihyo is slightly shorter than you, yet you feel so helpless under than her. an amused smirk plays on her lips and you find yourself clutching your tote bag strap a little tighter.

“…then i’ll take your offer, thank you.” you nod awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush.

jihyo nods, feeling accomplished, then pulls her hand off your shoulder. “i’ll have matt know there’s going to be an extra plate then. come on sweetheart.”

now you’re sat at the dining table with jihyo across. she’s grinning and her eyes keep wandering all over you, but most of the time they’re focused on your face.

matt hands you a plate with steak and alfredo pasta, then some utensils. he places a cup of water down on a coaster and pushes it towards you, then hands his aunt a glass of white wine.

matt takes a bite of the meal and sighs, pleased with how it satisfies his hunger. jihyo laughs at him whilst he goes on to devour the plate. you follow after him and twirl some of the noodle against your spoon, then stab a piece of steak with your fork. the bite you take is filled with some saltiness, though it’s deliciously savory—just how you like it.

jihyo smiles. “good?”

“it’s great, thank you again jihyo.”

“anytime, i fancy your company.” she responds before taking a bite herself.

there’s a question brewing in your mind, but you’re second-guessing yourself because it seems a bit rude, well, maybe. jihyo swallows the steak and reaches for her glass again.

“so it’s just you and matt?” you ask, avoiding eye contact.

matt turns and raises a brow, then shrugs it off. jihyo simply nods her head.

“just me and the troublemaker.” she jokes, which earns an eye roll from matt. “he moved here a few years ago, the school over here is excellent for him. great academics, extracurriculars, sports teams…”

“i see. good for him then.”

“what about you?” jihyo questions. you look up at her in the middle of chewing down your pasta, rushing to get a response out.

“sorry, what?”

“just you? no boyfriend or… significant other?”

surprisingly, you don’t choke on your food. “oh no, not at the moment.”

“that’s a shame, and a surprise.” she takes another bite of steak and chews on it in the right side of her cheek, puffing it out a little. “i wonder why no one has made a move, i would’ve if there were a beauty like you around.”

matt pauses, his brows furrow and he looks at his aunt with some slight concern. “auntie?”

“i’m only teasing silly, just complimenting,” jihyo says, laughing to ease the tension in the air (though, it doesn’t work. your heart starts racing again and the meal gets harder to finish). “it’s better than whatever you’ve said over the phone to those—”

matt coughs, then shakes his head. “okay okay, we get it.” he rolls his eyes (again) and shrinks into his seat, making jihyo giggle. you laugh as well and matt scoffs as he pokes at the steak on his plate.

there’s a sudden buzz that makes the table vibrate slightly. your phone sits next to your glass of water, and you reach for it hastily. due to your clumsy handling, the water topples over, spilling all over shirt—your chest.

“shit—” you curse and stand up quickly.

“matt, grab some napkins for y/n.” jihyo orders, quickly walking over to your side of the table. she grabs the napkins from her nephew and hands them to you, then urges you to follow her. she turns to matt and quickly says, “clean up the table, i’ll go help y/n out with her clothes.”

matt hums in response and you follow jihyo, feeling embarassed from the small scene you’ve made.

“i’m really sorry, and really, i could’ve cleaned up on my own—”

“it’s fine y/n, don’t worry about it.” jihyo assures, leading you to the large master bedroom.

there’s a king-sized bed in the middle, dimmed lights, and the room screams luxury. jihyo leads you over to the closet and grabs a small towel, then starts to pat down at your chest, making your cheeks burn.

her hands find their way over to your shoulder to stabilize you, and then she’s shaking her head after trying to dry the spillage on your shirt. “this won’t do, let me get you a shirt. you can take off yours and leave it on the hanger over there.” she says, pointing to the hook.

“t-thank you.” mentally, you facepalm yourself for sounding so nervous.

“your cheeks are red,” jihyo giggles. she places her hand on your shoulder, then drags it down to your chest briefly before pulling away. “it’s alright honey, it happens. i’ll get you that shirt.”

a few minutes later she enters the abnormally large closet again and hands you a gray sweatshirt with some college logo on it.

“thank you jihyo, i’ll give this back to you when i—”

“it’s fine, just keep it for pajamas or anything like that. it’s just some old shirt from when i graduated a while ago.” jihyo says. you pray that you look calm and collected, trying to mask your flustered-self with a smile. “i’ll let you change, just come out when you’re done sugar.”

“yeah, thanks—and sorry.”

jihyo shakes her head and waves off your apology with her hand.

you’re back downstairs in a few minutes—minutes of jihyo (not so) subtly checking you out in her old clothes.

matt asks if you’re okay, you answer with a nod and a smile.

“my roommate keeps calling me, i should get going.” is muttered followed by an unnecessary peek into your tote bag, shuffling through to make sure you have everything. “thank you again for everything.”

jihyo leads you to the door and sends matt up to get ready for school. she flattens out her own clothes, runs a hand through her hair, then watches you slip on your shoes from the front door.

“you should stay for dinner more often y/n, i enjoyed it.”

you chuckle awkwardly, then push a strand of hair back. “i enjoyed it too, though i’m sorry for spilling water everywhere.”

“that’s quite alright, you could always make up for it by staying over. i like your company.”

looking down at the ground, you smile bashfully and respond, “i’ll consider it. thank you again.”

“drive safe pretty.” jihyo says, waving goodbye and shutting the door.

sarah sits on the opposite end of the couch and watches you closely.

youre hugging your knees to your chest and smiling, making your roommate turn her head in confusion. “why’d you drag me to the couch.”

“i need to tell you about today. about everything.”

“make it quick, i have a lecture tomorrow morning for psych.” she sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the couch.

“so i’ve been tutoring that kid you know, the high school kid.” you start, and sarah nods as she hums. “yeah so basically i tutor him that one day at his school or whatever, then, he asks me to tutor him at his house.”

“so he… wants you?”

“no, absolutely not. plus, that’s like, a case.” you say with a shake of your hand, dismissing hee assumption. “but, speaking of age differences, i went to his house — his aunts house — and i was tutoring him and whatnot. then i hear someone knock on the door and he says it’s his aunt, so im unfazed or whatever because it’s probably this middle aged lady or whatever.”

“right, so…?”

“so i was fucking wrong.” you explain, sitting up now. “the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on walks in. she’s dressed in work clothes or something, all black, and she looks good.”

“oh, so you’re gay.” sarah scoffs amusingly, quirking a brow. “am i supposed to be… surprised?”

“can you just shut the fuck up and listen to me fully for once, please.”

sarah rolls her eyes. “fine.”

“okay so she calls me hon, then she says my hands are sweet — and keep in mind, this is the first time i’ve talked to her in person. then she calls me sweetheart?”

“she’s being nice i think, considering she’s probably older than you. maybe you’re just gay, delusional, and haven’t gotten laid since… months ago?”

“just because you and your girlfriend do it every time i’m out does not mean you have to shove it down my throat.” you scoff, “anyways, yeah no i thought that too, but then her nephew — the kid in tutoring — he tells me that she’s more generous with me and asks about me. i don’t think that’s being nice.”

“that might just be curiosity and being nice, y/n.”

“no hear me out okay,” sarah giggles as she watches you talk all animatedly with your hands moving after every couple of words. “she invited me for dinner — literally wanted me to stay, like insisted — then said i was too pretty to not be taken? and then she was saying that if ‘there were a beauty like you around, i would’ve made a move.’”

sarah’s eyes widen, then her mouth opens slightly in shock. she leans closer to you, now fully invested knowing that this isn’t just another stretch of your interactions with women.

“holy shit?”

“i know.” you say, feeling your cheeks flush just from thinking about it. “and then you called and i spilled water and whatnot, she brought me to her room and—“

“you guys fucked?”

“no!” you immediately say, a little too loud for that matter. “no, no.” you reassure, “though, i’m going to be honest i kind of wish—but that’s besides the point. she helped me out and patted down my tits — well my shirt but who cares, same thing — and then gave me her old sweatshirt. im literally wearing it right now and i remember her checking me out as soon as i changed into them.”

“oh my god?”

“yeah, and then you called again for me to come back or whatever and she told me to stay for dinner more often. now i’m here and that’s the end of the story.”

sarah simply stares at you with wide eyes, her hand covering her slightly opened mouth. you place your hands on your face snd grown, feeling the heat of your cheeks on the skin of your hand.

“i cant believe someone’s aunt wants you.”

“i know!”

“are you going to… sleep with her?” sarah asks, tilting her head.

you find yourself lost in thought, often drifting into a world where she consumes your every waking moment - both at work and during classes. in these vivid daydreams, your thoughts sometimes stray to a more innocent realm. you envision the possibility of going on a simple date with her, where you can unravel the layers of her personality and just get to know her on a deeper level. because jihyo’s the type of woman that you want to sit down and get to know, that’s for sure.

but to be honest, most of the time your mind wanders to far more… provocative scenarios. your imagination conjures up images of her completely unveiled, with a tantalizing desire to feel her hands caressing your every contour, leaving you to completely submit to her; to be ruined by jihyo personally. these fantasies consume you, their allure impossible to resist.

“well, i don’t know.” you answer, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i still have to tutor her nephew.”

“hmm… then focus on that and then sleeping with his aunt.” sarah suggests, giggling lightly before her phone buzzes. she looks at the screen and sees a text from her girlfriend, then smiles immediately. “speaking of sleeping with people, my girlfriend is picking me up. i’ll be out for the night.”

you groan, still wanting sarah to listen to you while losing your mind and leave her own comments here and there. it’s almost impossible to get her away from her girlfriend. you’re so jealous and sarah loves to poke at you for being single and insatiable.

“you’re unbelievable.”

sarah shrugs, getting up with a cheeky grin. she snickers, “and you need to get laid. good luck with your little milf situation.”

“she’s not his mom!”

“same difference.”

—

the next time you tutor matt, you never get to talk or see jihyo. matt explains that she’s out for the night, something related to a business trip that he seems to not really care about.

but you care, and you need to know when she’s back. unfortunately, tutoring comes first and the last thing you want to do is make it obvious that you have a crush on the aunt of the kid you’re tutoring.

(matt has a little hunch; he notices the stares the both of you give each other when you two think no one is looking. matt is looking and definitely suspicious of how nervous you get around her and how generous his aunt is to you. though, he doesn’t have time to dive deeper in that since another physics test is clouding his brain for the time being.)

you run into jihyo the day after that session with matt, but not as his house.

there’s a place near the campus that’s now you and your friends’ signature study and hangout spot. it’s this cozy café and restaurant that the five of you have spent countless hours at either conversing and laughing for hours or losing your mind over whatever classes you guys take. this time, you’re all getting brunch together and debating something small.

you excuse yourself and get in line to grab a drink since you only purchased a panini, thinking that would satisfy you. you were wrong. so, you stand in line for a bit, not really minding your surroundings while you tap through various instagram stories and scroll mindlessly. a minute later, you feel a tap on your shoulder while you’re halfway through a video your friend had posted. when you turn around you’re met with the face that has you lost in a momentary trance.

“ah y/n, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo says.

“oh, jihyo.” you respond, trying to hide your surprise and sudden nervousness. “it’s nice to see you too.”

oh for sure it’s nice to see her. sunglasses sit on the top of her head, loose strands fall over her face, and the dress she’s wearing under her long coat looks divine. your eyes scan her whole body for a short moment, and then you’re clearing your throat as she starts to speak again.

“are you here alone?” she asks you, looking you up in down in the process.

“oh i’m with friends actually, they’re over by the window—“ you point to the group of four laughing together, all invested in the conversation at hand as the afternoon light brightens their smiles. “—we were just getting together and eating brunch.” you explain.

“i see…” jihyo mumbles, looking over to your friends. she sounds a bit dissapointed, but you could be wrong about that.

“what are you doing here? i mean, i don’t mean that in a rude way it’s just—“

jihyo smiles again, putting her hand on your shoulder as she laughs. “oh honey,” one of many things she calls you that makes your breath go short, “it’s fine, i get what you mean.” she trails down to your bicep, her skin warm on yours. “i was going to grab a drink before work, this is one of my favorite cafes.”

“what a coincidence, it’s one of mine too.”

jihyo subtly acknowledges your presence, her gaze gracefully trailing along your figure, delicately fixating on the tantalizing hint of skin peeking through your attire. her probing eyes pause there momentarily, capturing every nuance of the tempting groove down your tummy, accentuated by your low-rise jeans and revealing crop top. the ensemble effortlessly enhances your allure, inducing an irresistible appeal that’s impossible to ignore. as her gaze eventually retreats, it effortlessly returns to meet your own.

“i suppose we have lots in common.” jihyo notes.

“yeah,” you breath out, “i guess so.”

“next in line please!” one of the the cashiers yells out, snapping you out of your daze. you apologize to him and then smile at jihyo before walking over and shuffling for the wallet in your shoulder bag.

after getting your pistachio latte, you walk back to your friends and they beam at you. setting your bag down, you listen in on the conversation.

“—and so, as i was saying, he kept making me pay for everything on the first date.” mai scoffs, crossing her arms. she’s a friend from your intro to education, lively and always has something to say. this time, it seems to be quite interesting. “look, i am a 50-50 girl and whatnot, but he asked me out and expects me to pay? i felt like there was a whole beard on my face and my balls dropped or something after paying for him. yeah, never again.”

you laugh loudly, covering your mouth upon hearing the entertaining story.

again – similar to just a few minutes ago – there’s a tap on your shoulder. your friends look at the woman behind you before you can, and once you set your look on her; your heart starts to beat again, a blush settling on your cheeks.

“hey pretty, i was about to leave for work.” jihyo says with a smile, “can we talk for a bit? alone.”

to your left, another one of your friends raises his eyebrows subtly. just with that small gesture alone, he manages ask without speaking: who’s this woman and why is she calling you pretty? though, you can’t answer him just yet. there’s no way you’d embarrass yourself in front of jihyo.

you clear your throat and stutter just barely in your response. “hey, hi. um, yeah, sure. excuse me guys, i um, need to talk with her.”

after sending an apologetic smile and earning various cheeky smiles, you nod at jihyo and find a spot near the window to talk to her. alone. she brushes a strand of hair out of your face and leans back to sit upright in her seat; you try to stay calm

“i just wanted to ask for a favor, i completely forgot about it until i got a notification from my calendar.”

“oh, what is it?”

she looks out the window and sips on her iced drink, then turns back to meet your eyes. “well, i have a work dinner thing, a lot of… men will be there for the most part. i was wondering if you’d accompany me? i’m afraid i’d grow tired of their dull efforts to impress me, but it’s completely fine if you can’t make it.” jihyo says, although her tone near the end suggests that she’d be pretty disappointed with an answer other than yes. “i know it’s a big ask, but i’ve grown quite fond of you. is that ridiculous?”

quickly, you dismiss her by waving your hands a bit frantically and shaking your head. you assure her, “it’s not ridiculous at all!” unintentionally, the volume of your voice spikes. “i’m actually um, really flattered that you feel that way, seriously. it also wouldn’t be any trouble – the dinner thing – id, um, i would love to accompany you.”

jihyo finds herself blushing, surprisingly. she sips on the drink before setting it down on the marble counter side, then places her elbows on the table and her eyes smile, then her nose scrunches a bit.

“right, that’s wonderful.” she says, “come over to my place tomorrow at 5:30 then?” you gulp upon hearing her words – practically an order with that tone and raise of her brow – then nod. she smiles and places her hand on your shoulder again, this time terribly close to the crook of your neck, her thumb brushing against your throat. “good, see you then.”

“yeah,” you respond, not wanting to leave yet; your friends are waiting for you and jihyo has to go to work, so you begin to stand. “i’ll see you… my friends um, they’re—”

“oh, yes, sorry for dragging you away—”

“no!” you shake your hands again, cringing at how loud your voice grew (again). “they’re fine with it and i don’t want you to be late for work. we weren’t doing anything important anyway, just catching up.”

she giggles and stands up to face you, eyes angled up slightly since she’s an inch or two shorter. she takes her hand off her skin and it feels specifically frigid in that area now that the warmth radiating off her fingers isn’t there, you almost shiver.

“right, thanks hon. i’ll see you tomorrow yeah? shoot me a text when you get there, you have my number.”

you nod and she hands her work bag on her shoulder, then starts to walk away – but not before winking at you. you smile, feeling your heart do a flip.

when you return to your table, your friends are already eyeing you mischievously. mai has her straw sitting on her teeth, giving you that look. your jaw tightens and you smile at them before awkwardly sitting back in the previously empty seat, mentally preparing yourself in those two silent seconds before they all start bombarding you with questions and relentless teasing.

you arrived at jihyo’s house ten minutes early, a little earlier than you’d expected since the traffic wasn’t as bad. you walk down the small path leading to the steps, then up those three steps and onto the doormat. before you can even knock, the door opens and matt nearly bumps into you.

he apologizes immediately, then looks at you with scrunched brows.

“were we supposed to tutor today?” he asks, scratching his head with a finger. “if we were, sorry but i’ve got plans.” he says, nudging his head forward, making you turn around to see a honda civic parked on the street across. the windows are rolled down, revealing another guy that looks around his age in the drivers seat, another in the passengers side that you can barely see, and two girls in the back.

“oh, no. jihyo called me over actually, not for you.”

matt raises his brows, then his body relaxes. “oh.”

“yeah, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“no it’s… fine.” he assures, looking at you skeptically. “have fun with… my aunt? um, whatever you two are… doing. i’m staying at a friends house tonight so…”

“yeah, have fun.” you respond awkwardly, looking up at him as he observes you for a few seconds longer. the makeup on your face is slightly heavier than usual – not that it’s a bad thing, in fact he wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the nice dress you were wearing. quite odd, he figures, but it’s not his business. he shrugs his shoulders and forgets about it, waving at you before he leaves, running over to the black honda civic that’s playing music at a volume so loud that you can hear it from the door.

you forget about the whole encounter for a moment, instead redirecting your attention to the opened door in front of you. stepping inside, you get a whiff of the familiar lavender scent that fills the house, then close the door behind you. the house is silent until you send jihyo a text, and she responds a few seconds later by yelling from upstairs.

“y/n! come upstairs darling!”

you freeze in place, suddenly feeling intimidated for no reason. nonetheless, you walk on over to the stairs, then up to jihyo’s room.

as you enter the room, her image captivates your attention in the mirror. the black dress she has on a pulls you towards her, reciprocating the intense attraction you both feel. the attraction that’s most definitely there, but jihyo’s a tease and you’re cautious. she likes that she has you wrapped around her finger. it’s amusing how easily flustered you get around her.

the sight of her is nothing short of exquisite, and your gaze fixates on the enticing curve of her hips, igniting a subtle pulse in between your legs hunger that has you subconsciously nibbling on your lip. glancing further upwards, you indulge in the sight of her exposed shoulders, showcased gracefully in the mirror's reflection. they exude a provoking attraction, tempting you to succumb to your countless daydreams. you want to explore the softness of her skin, want to leave indelible marks on her delicate collarbones.

in the midst of your blatant stare, her eyes lock with yours through the mirror, catching you in the act of unabashedly admiring her. she laughs, then she turns around to face you, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.

“like what you see?” she teases you, making your cheeks burn.

you clear your throat and pretend to busy yourself by looking into your bag, but manage to respond politely, “i um—sorry. matt let me in, he just left.”

she starts to step towards you, and you feel yourself gulp unintentionally.

“mhm, he told me about the sleepover.” she says, then stands inches away from you. using her pointer and thumb, she tilts your chin up and away from the bag hung on your shoulder, intensely gazing at you for a moment before speaking again. “you look remarkable.”

your breath hitches as you look at her, eyes drilling into yours while you try to stay calm. “t-thank you.”

she eyes you for a while longer before nodding, then smiles at you like she didn’t just eye fuck you.

“let’s get going, there’s good parking if we arrive early. less of a hassle for us.”

all you can do is hum and follow her, afraid of embarrassing yourself from how flustered and inaudible you are.

the car ride consisted of you trying to not stare at her sharp, defined features the whole time. it was very difficult to not glance here and there, a few times you had your eyes glued on her godly cheekbones and sometimes you even eyed the way her bones would pop out when she turned the wheel.

during the car ride, you found it increasingly challenging to avert your gaze from her captivating, exquisitely sculpted features. the temptation to steal a glimpse here and there proved irresistible, as her godly cheekbones held your attention.

at times, you couldn't help but be captivated by the protrusion of her bones as she maneuvered the steering wheel. after eyeing it for too long, jihyo caught you in her peripheral and turned to face you – the light was red anyway – then smiled cheekily. she moved her hand towards your thigh, placing it dangerously close to the dampening area in between your legs.

“you alright lovely? you seem a little tense.” jihyo asks, rubbing your thigh with her thumb just barely. “something on your mind?”

you fought back a low whimper before you respond, “i’m fine, thanks.” you try, voice small as she adds more pressure to your skin. you try your best to remain calm and composed, but god it’s so hard when she’s touching you there and like that. “it’s not important, i was just daydreaming.”

(your daydreaming will be increasingly explicit from now on.)

the light turns green and jihyo puts her hand back on the wheel as she turns away from you, redirecting her attention on the road. your jaw tenses and you shift in the seat a little, thighs closing and rubbing together.

jihyo pretends not to notice and fights back a smirk.

the two of you would enter the restaurant together with jihyo linking your arms and smiling at you like she didn’t just make you ten times hornier than you already are daily.

as you enter, you are immediately mesmerized by the extraordinary interior. the lighting casts an enchanting, almost mystical ambiance, wrapping the space in an intimate aura. the arrangement of tables is meticulously planned, each one positioned with precision and attention to detail. the sheer beauty of the place is breathtaking, leaving you in awe. it’s evident that reservations at this place come with a hefty price tag, most definitely surpassing the cost of more than half of your apartment's monthly rent; maybe almost as much as what you and sarah pay together.

jihyo leans in closer to your ear, lips brushing against your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine. “come lovely, let’s find our seats.” she says, then walks you over with her to the man with slicked back hair and an impossibly perfect posture. he gives you the table number and holds his arm out in the direction of it, then jihyo thanks him with that weirdly arousing voice she has and tugs on your arm lightly.

there are other men that are scattered around the dining area, they all notice jihyo as soon as she steps in – who wouldn’t?

she’s stone faced as she walks with you and towards the table, her stern expression unfazed by the stares from men that aren’t accompanied by their respective lovers. though, maybe those with their own lover took a small glimpse.

you feel a little small, most eyes are on jihyo though a good amount also land on you. it seems that the two of you have taken the attention of the majority, which freaks you much as much as it flatters you. jihyo seems to notice the attention on you too, then subtly brings you closer to her.

jihyo sits down first and flattens out her outfit before she fixes her hair, then pats down the seat next to her. you sit down and she brings your chair a little closer before leaning towards your ear and speaking again.

“thank you for coming, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to the table this quickly if it weren’t for you.”

you hum, then ask, “why is that?”

“the men here are shameless, they hit on me dinner after dinner.” jihyo sighs, then lowers her voice when she says, “i guess they were too distracted by you. you’re a sight worth skipping dinner for.”

you gulp, laughing off her suggestive compliment before boldly responding, “i think most would much rather… indulge in you. i get their standpoint, though.”

as you begin to fix the delicate fabric of your dress, a subtle flicker of surprise dances within jihyo's widened eyes. with her grip on her handbag growing tighter, her gaze shifts towards you, a newfound intensity in her look. you turn to look right back in her eyes, almost challenging her with this new confidence of yours. it’s in this moment that the unspoken connection seems to deepen, the tension drawing you two closer. the allure she now feels towards you, layered with a hint of curiosity and urge to undress you, is palpable yet carefully restrained.

three more men greet jihyo formally and she smiles forcefully at them before they take their seats and indulge in their own conversation. the menus are handed once everyone settles in and everyone glances at the options. the selection intimidates you; half the dishes incorporate foreign words that you had never heard of.

jihyo places her hand on your thigh again, this time higher than before. she looks at you with those drilling brown eyes and squeezes a bit.

“know what you’d like?”

your breath shakes reluctantly, but you respond with a leveled tone. “yeah, the chicken chasseur.” there’s a ninety percent chance you butchered that pronunciation, half of the reason was because you never really paid attention in your french three class your junior year of high school, and the other half was because jihyo’s fingers started tracing patterns into the flesh of your thigh.

“right, the chasseur,” she says teasingly, pronouncing it correctly. “that’s one of my favorites.”

“i see, i’ll definitely like it then.”

“mhm.”

the waiter comes by – the same guy with the slicked back hair – he introduces himself in a deep, formal tone. it catches you off guard that his name is so simple: michael. he takes all of your orders, then collects each menu. as soon as he leaves, one of the men at the table attempt to strike up some small talk with jihyo, and she responds with blunt, uninterested answers. the men are left intimidated and out of luck, then try to succeed in initiating a meaningful conversation with you.

“what was your name dear?” one says, his features implying that he’s not too far off from how old your parents are.

hesitantly, you respond with a polite “y/n,” before smiling respectfully. he narrows his eyes and smirks before glancing down, it leaves you uneasy. jihyo clears her throat and sends daggers at him with her glare.

“how are you and your wife, samuel?” she questions, quirking a brow before your waiter arrives with a bottle of white and red wine. the man who’d bee blatantly chekcing out your chest area grimaces, then fakes a smile.

“we’re doing fine.” he says a little sternly, then halts his attempts at socializing with you.

you send jihyo a thankful glance, she responds with a grin before swirling the white wine in her glass and giving a sip, then sips.

“this is good, have some dear.” she says, urging you with a tilt of her head to try some of the identical wine in your own glass. “do you like wine?”

“kind of, i mean, i never really indulge...” your response gives you a quick flashback of the various cheap selections of alcoholic drinks you’ve downed at house parties you’d attend here and there. you grab your glass and copy what jihyo does – you don’t really know how to sip on wine without it looking like you can’t even afford three sips – then raise your brows in surprise once you get a taste. it's sharp and fruity, much richer than the past drinks you’ve had.

“good?” jihyo says amusingly, observing your expression.

“it’s wonderful.”

she grins at you, then gances around the table hastily. two of the men continue to glance over even as they talk withe ach other, it seems that you two just can’t escape the attention. the appetizers arrive a minute later and the two of you indulge, unable to create any small talk or anything like that with your company. jihyo decides she’s craving a different type of appetizer as soon as she sees you wipe your lip subtly.

“come with me to the restroom, the main courses won’t be out for a little while.” jihyo insists, then looks around at the men busy with their bread, butter, and various other appetizers that sound too complicated for how they look. “besides, i'd rather be alone with you than surrounded by them for the time being.”

once again, a tremor of anticipation seeps through you, your breath quivers with a mix of nerves and eagerness. jihyo just get’s bolder by the second.

although it’s a simple trip to the restroom – a countless number of times you and your friends have scurried off to the comofrting ‘sanctuary’ of the girls’ room for meaningless conversations and minuscule touches of makeup – yet, with jihyo accompanying you now instead of your stupid best friends, your mind is propelled into an intricate labyrinth of scenarios, infused with explicit scenarios that jihyo stars in.

jihyo gracefully positions herself before the strangely exquisite mirror, which is not only unreasonably large and fancy, but it also manages to delicately enhance her plump lips after applying a fresh coat of lipstick. as she caresses her captivating pout, you become mesmerized by the subtle dance of her lips, gently gliding against each other like silk. she releases her pursed lips with a faint “pop” sound before she looks at you through the mirror.

“daydreaming again?” jihyo asks. you shake your head and walk over to the sink next to her before fixing your hair for no apparent reason. a smirk tugs at her lip sbefore she turns so that her back is facing you. “zip up my dress for me? seems to have gone loose.”

without a word, you move your hands over to deftly maneurver the zipper along the length of her dress. the entire tableau unfolds so quickly, though there’s an unexpected intamacy that lingers in the air, seeming slightly out of place but it’s also undeniably enticing. your hold your breath unknowingly.

“you know y/n,” jihyo starts, your hands still on the zipper. “you’re so easy to rile up, it’s cute.”

��what?” you respond with disbelief, pretending that her statement isn’t the turth. she turns around and tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she draws her attention down to your lips – now parted – then brings a thumb to graze the bottom lip.

“c’mon baby, think i didn’t notice how you were in the car?” she chuckles, now moving her fingers down to your chin and moving and pushing down on your chin to tilt your head down just barely. “staring at my chest and all of me so clearly in my own house... darling, do you think i’m a fool?”

you gulp, her eyes peering into yours and waiting for an answer. you’re absolutely dumbfounded, cheeks burning violently.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to--”

“oh honey, i'm not against it.” she assures, smiling at you and bringer her hand down to play with the dainty necklace around you rneck. “if anything, i want you just as much as you seem to crave me.”

“i--”

she cuts you off, pressing a chaste peck to your lips. when she pulls away, you subconciously lean forward to catch her lips again, whining lowly. jihyo giggles softly before putting her thumb against your lips, adding pressure to halt your eagerness.

“gosh, you’re adorable.” jihyo says, “i could just ruin your pretty little self right here.”

“jihyo, please”

she laughs, pleased, raising her brows and smirking at this new, desperate y/n she’s brought to the surface.

“tell me how much you want me and i'll let you have more, can you do that?”

your cheeks are on fire and so are your ears. jihyo pulls away further so she can fully see your face, stroking her knuckles down the curve of your cheek. you swallow shallowly before opening your mouth to speak, but hesitate.

“c’mon baby, use your words for me. you can do that, can’t you?”

“yes, yeah,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice stable. jihyo smiles, then presses a haste kiss to your jaw. your breath out shakily, bringing a hand to jihyo’s forearm.

this has to be a dream, there’s no way matt’s aunt is this close to you – and like this. jihyo's pressing kisses down your jawline and neck, nibbling softly and eliciting sharp breaths. everything feels unreal, it’s so unexpected and you don’t know what to do while she brings a knee in between your legs.

“i’m going to stop if you don’t tell me what you want pretty girl.”

you sigh, almost moaning at the way her voice bounces off your skin.

“someone’s going to walk in...” you mumble, placing your hand on her waist.

“isn’t that part of the thrill?” jihyo asks, “tell me what you want.”

“kiss me, please jihyo.”

“that all?”

of course it’s not all, you want to be pushed to the point of tears and incoherent sobs – but not here, not now. you can only groan at the untimely situation, wanting jihyo to take your time with you someplace less unorthodox.

“when we go back... i want you to... do more.” you mumble shyly, watching jihyo move away from your neck so that she’s inches away from your face. her lips curl up into a mischievous smile as she twirls your hair.

“i’ll take it easy on you for now,” jihyo chuckles, “come here.”

without hesitation you lean forward, messily and eagerly meeting jihyo’s lips again. the two of you get used to everything and ease into each other’s contact, jihyo leading the way. she tugs on your bottom lip gently and you gasp, which gives her the chance to slide her tongue in and explore your mouth.

you’ve madeout with girls countless times, but it’s always been messy, rushed, and the only thing you could taste and smell was cheap aochol. your past experiences have been nothing like what’s happening right now.

you can taste the hints of fruit and slight vanilla in that expensive white wine from earlier, it’s even better when you get to taste it off of jihyo. she tastes divine. she’s so precise and skilled with her tongue and lips, immediately adjusting to the pace of the moment and ultimately leaving your knees weak. jihyo's fucking skilled, she knows what she’s doing and everything feels so goddamn euphoric.

she pushes you against the marble of the sink area and you moan into her mouth when she squeezes your ass, making her smirk against your lips cheekily. you’re like a puppet in her control, and she knows just the right movements and subtle touches to get you going.

jihyo pulls away suddenly and you whine, trying to pull her back. she holds you in place firmly, lingering near your lips and chuckling against them.

“why-- why did you stop?” you ask desperately, pathetically pinching the fabric of her dress tighter.

“pretty girl, you’ve forgotten where we are haven’t you? the main course might be out.”

“but jihyo--”

“listen,” she says sternly, sending a shiver down your spine. a soft smile is displayed, which soothes your nerves after witnessing it. jihyo tucks your hair behind her ear. “let’s make a deal, how about that?”

“okay,”

“if you can...” she starts, twirling the hair on the nape of your neck. “...be good for me and stay patient, then i'll reward you when we get back to the house. can you be good for me pretty?”

a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to respond. you try your best to do so anyway.

“mhm, i can.”

“good. i'd love to ruin you right here, don’t get me wrong, but there’s other guests that expect me to be present.”

fuck those other guests, you need to take her right here and right now. she can’t just rile you up like this, give you the best makeout session of your life and then end it so abruptly. regardless, she possesses an innate power - she's jihyo. you're completely enthralled and under her control anyway, whether you know it or not.

she lets out a cold, menacing chuckle and flashes you a provocative grin. she delicately reshapes your disheveled hair and then tends to her own cascade flowing down. you can feel the lingering presnce of her own lips on yours -- slightly swollen and vividly tinted -- and although jihyo remains unfazed by the evidence of her artistry, it's clear she revels in your visible discomposure. if others were to connect the dots, she couldn't care less; if anything, she welcomes it. she's evil, and all you want is more of her.

so you’ll have to behave for the time being, because who knows what she’s capable of.

“ah, you’re back park. the food got here ten minutes ago.” samuel says, raising a brow in suspicion.

the men’s plates are already half eaten, and then there’s two plates that are left untouched on the table. jihyo eyes you, raising her brow before elegantly reaching for her utensils.

she clears her throat and lies, “lady troubles.” which earns a flush on each of the men’s faces, and a brief apology from samuel.

the remainder of the dinner becomes utterly unbearable. it’s not just the men engaging in dumb, uninteresting conversations -- which require you to perform an artificial smile, direct focus, and provide meaningless responses - but underneath the table, jihyo teases you. her delicate hand grazes your thigh intermittently. the whole thing is excruciating, causing an overwhelming surge of sexual frustration that genuinely throbs between your legs. the only thing you crave right now is her touch again; you don’t know how many more times you can utter “oh how interesting,” before exploding completely.

an hour passes and it’s finally time for jihyo to bid her farewells, finally.

the farewells’ had to take at least ten minutes, since jihyo’s pretty high up there in whatever she does. you never really knew, but it wasn’t your place to ask.

jihyo unlocks her black porsche, which is remarkably eye-catching, though not as much as the driver. you get in the passenger's side and she’s already inside turning the engine on, one hand on the stick. she backs up smoothly, then gets out of the parking lot quickly.

the car ride is almost silent for three-quarters, the only thing that pokes at the tension is jihyo’s hand on your thigh. she's driving one handed, it’s a common skill – you drive one handed here and there – but when jihyo does it, your thighs try to ease whatever is going on in between.

“did you enjoy the meal?” jihyo asks, eyes on the road.

“yeah, it was great.”

“mhm,” she hums, then squeezes your flesh a bit. “how was the dessert? did it suit your tastes?”

you let out a shallow breath, “yeah.”

“good.” jihyo says, then smiles to herself. “we’re almost home.”

you can only hum in response, growing impatient.

jihyo clicks a button and the garage door opens, then drives in slowly. she has to be doing this on purpose, just to test you. you’re going to endure the aching, because at the end of the rainbow there’s always gold, and you’re her good girl.

when you enter the house, it’s completely dark, then jihyo turns on the light and you have to fight the urge to kiss her again.

“come,” she orders, turning to walk towards the stairs to the second floor. she's swaying her hips a little on purpose, she must be – or you’re just horny, or both.

finally, after what seemed like centuries, you make it to her room. she closes the door behind you as you walk in.

“sit down on the bed for me.” you do as you’re told wihtout hesitation, sitting down on the soft mattress of the king sized bed. the sheets are perfectly set on the bed, so are the blankets and pillows, but something tells you that it won’t be like that by the end of this night. “good girl.”

she glides towards you, delicately raising your chin and fixing her gaze upon you, like an artist admiring a masterpiece. she revels in the sight of your flushed cheeks, the gentle parting of your lips, and the slight up turn of your brows, all traits that make this vulnerable rendition of you enticingly irresistible. her eyes grow dark, consumed by a yearning that she has now ardently realized; this is what she’s been wanting ever since she first laid eyes on you.

“clothes off for me sweetheart.” immediately, you start to slip yourself out of the dress. jihyo decides to be generous, helping you out a bit since she’s quite eager herself.

now, you find yourself perched delicately on the edge of her bed, goosebumps on your skin even as warmth envelops you. you’re nearly exposed, clad only in delicate undergarments that hold jihyo's gaze captive. a sigh escapes her lips, swiftly followed by a mischievous smirk, a telltale sign of her satisfaction.

jihyo's going to have the meal of her life, nothing she had for dinner that night would ever compare to you. she hasn’t even gotten a taste of your arousal yet, but she already knows.

“you’re beautiful,” she mutters before closing the distance, kissing you on the lips. you sink into all of it: the hand on your cheek, the knee shifting in between your legs, and simply her touch.

she maneuvers your body onto the bed, positioning herself on top, ensnaring your legs with her own. with an air of urgency, she kisses you harshly, whisking away the very essence of oxygen from your lungs. she pulls away to see you all hot and heavy, watching the desperate rise and fall of your chest while your eyes meet hers in a gaze brimming with insatiable lust.

“up,” she mutters, to which to respond by propping yourself on your elbows. she skillfully works away at the clasp of your bra, unclipping it and throwing the garment some place off the bed. “god, you’re so beautiful, you know?” jihyo says before fastening her lips on your neck, sucking violently.

as your voice becomes stifled, attempting to form words proves worthless under jihyo's intimate touch. she delicately explores your body, her lips grazing your neck, causing shivers to cascade down your spine. the symphony of your helpless moans resonates wonderfully, she just wants every ounce of pleasure you can offer, greedy for all of you.

“f-fuck, oh my god...” you groan helplessly, squirming under jihyo as her mouth starts to tend to your tits. your hand lands in her hair, gripping tightly as her tongue swirls around your perked up bud. her tongue was great in your mouht, but holy shit it’s ten times better when pushing you near your climax. she hasn’t even touched the ache in between in your legs and you feel like you could cum right then and there.

jihyo gets up and looks down on you like a predator would with its prey, eyeing your vulnerable, exposed body that she’s ravenous for. there are marks along your neck and chest, jihyo’s artwork looking better than anything a museum could hold.

she still has her dress on, though it swiftly finds the floor in a few moments. your gaze becomes fixed upon her, witnessing a new prize the further the dress drops down. in the wake of this unveiling, she stands before you, clad only in undergarments—pricey, hot looking ones. your eyes fixate upon her chest and the sight of her tits leaves you wide eyed. the alluring contours of her abdomen draw your attention next, effortlessly accentuating her absolutely unreal, fit body. she leans back slightly and her ass catches your attention, rendering you speechless. everything about her is divine and you find yourself completely engulfed in desire.

all of this is so unreal and you figure it has to be one of those dreams that gets cut off by the alarm for your morning classes; but no, this is real, it’s especially real as jihyo slides her hand down from the top of your chest to just above your waist. her fingers tease the fabric covering your cunt, tantalizingly grazing it.

“want me inside baby?” jihyo asks, subtly sticking her fingers under the edges of the fabric. you nod desperately, which makes jihyo laugh. “gosh you’re so wet honey, need me that badly?” she teases, and you can only respond with a weak hum.

she slides off your panties quickly, you whimper pathetically in response her skin encounters wetness.

her fingers glide slowly along your folds, easily moving up and down with how aroused you are. she brings her fingers back to her lips, getting a faint taste as your back subconciously arches against the mattress.

“want me inside?”

“please.”

“beg harder.” jihyo chuckles, moving her fingers back to your pussy and teasing you carelessly as she lightly slides up and down the damp folds.“i won’t let you get it that easy. if you want something i want to hear you say it, sugar.”

you whine, breathing out through your parted lips.

“please, i need your fingers inside jihyo,” you sigh, voice all nasally and airy. “i want you to fuck me how you want, just make me cum please, you can have your way with me i don’t care. fuck, i'm all yours.”

“perfect.” she says, then harshly pushes two fingers into your dripping cunt. your head shoots back into the pillow it’s on and your fingers grip the sheets tightly, the curse you cry out practically echoes throughout the room.

she pounds into you with those slender fingers, maneuvering skillfully inside and out, curving at the right spots and leaving you breathless. tears form at the corners of your eyes, her other hand holds you down, pushing down on the middle of your torso to keep you from squirming so much.

the amount of pressure she adds to your clit occasionally renders you weak, you’re a moaning, squirming hot mess and jihyo has never been this turned on in years.

an indescribable sound escapes your lips, a melodic symphony of affirmation and inclination. jihyo's fingers plunge in and out, in and out – delving deeper into the depths of your core with each intoxicating thrust. she retreats momentarily before venturing even further, introducing a third digit into the hypnotic rhythm.

i'm fucked.

there was this sensation of being utterly reinvigorated, inside and out, in the most euphoric way that only your moans could describe. you've never been fucked this good, seriously, you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this turned on and goddamn submissive. it's insane how quick and easy jihyo managed to do it.

the knot in your stomach seems tighter and you’re about to find out just how goddamn well it feels to come undone because of park fucking jihyo. matt's aunt.

“f-fuck i'm, hnnh i'm so close--” you whimper, voice dying down in your throat, “p-please,”

“god you’re so beautiful,” jihyo says right before hitting your clit with her palm as she pushes into you. then, with a stronger arch and near sob, you tighten around her fingers and grip the sheets tightly, clinging on for dear life as you reach your high.

jihyo pulls her fingers out and massages your clit lightly, still stimulating you as you recover. your legs are shaking, still, and your ribs are exposed as you lay there and breathe heavily.

“be a good girl for me, y/n, you can do that. you will.” jihyo says before slamming into you again with three digits, making you gasp from surprise and pleasure. you've barely had time to recover, and yet jihyo is torturing you yet again.

it feels like your pussy is being torn to shreds, you can hear the “squelch” and clap with every point of contact.

you try to say something – exactly what, jihyo doesn’t know or minds because she’s too infatueted with every jolt and twitch of your body – and then you let out another loud cry that sounds something like “fuck,” before your body goes limp, twitching every now and then.

she pulls her hand out – dampened with your clear arousal – and gets a taste of her middle and pointer finger. she drags her fingertips up along your torso -- sending a shiver down your spine – then brings her damp fingers to your mouth.

“open.”

without hesitation, you comply, tasting your own arousal off her skin by swirling your tongue messily. your eyes lock with hers before you suck, going down to the base of where her fingers connect and sliding up until you get all of your arousal off.

“good girl.”

she slides down your body, now she’s facing your cunt directly. you shiver in anticipation, a little scared but for the most part turned on one hundred times more than ever. she presses a sweet kiss to your pussy – quite different from how ruthless she was earlier – before she indulges, making you press the back of your hand against your forehead.

god her tongue, it’s like it’s made to leave girls like you fighting for air. she holds your thighs, pressing her fingers into your flesh as she absolutely devours you. it's not too long before you feel that same knot in your stomach, and this time to leave you screaming she simply flattens her tongue against your sensitivity and sucks on your clit harshly.

there's tears on your cheeks now, and more start to trail down as jihyo starts to fuck you dumb again. whatever is leaving your mouth is incoherent, practically gibberish as you squirm around. she forcefully spreads your thighs apart – which says a lot about her stretngth considering how you’re getting fucked into oblivion – keeping oyu in place even as you start to turn your body and roll onto your side desperately.

“you taste so, mmh, good.” jihyo mumbles, “fuck, this is better than the dessert we had.”

you can barely comprehend what she’s saying because your minds so goddamn foggy and you’re literally sobbing from how overwhelming everything is. but it feels so good, if she stopped you’d be crying for a different reason rather than pleasure.

jihyo feels your thighs shake beside her head, then feels a hand on her head gripping her hair tightly and pushing down against your cunt before the trembling stops. the cry you let out stops before it leaves your mouth, so you cum with an airy, choked out sob.

jihyo's gaze fixates upon your pulsing, swollen cunt – dripping with your sweet arousal. she rises to her knees, gracefully straddling you, drawing her attention to the rise and fall of your chest. your disheveled hair frames your features, adorned with a rosy flush and the remnants of tears. a soft smile dances upon her lips, a testament to the mess she’s made.

jihyo falls down to your tummy, scattering feathery kisses. she ascends to your chest, your neck, and at last, your lips. you kiss her sloppily, weakly reaching to cup her cheek while she traps your top lip between both of hers. she pulls away and fixes up your hair, then rubs her thumb along your tear stained skin.

“you did so good for me baby,” she assures, watching you sniffle. “are you alright?”

“yeah.” you mumble weakly, smiling softly at her. “i just, need to relax.” you chuckle softly before jihyo pecks your lips again.

“i’ll help you clean up, stay here pretty.” jihyo says, rubbing your rib with her thumb softly.

the two of you wake up an hour before lunch the next morning. jihyo rubs your thigh with her hand, massaging it to reduce the soreness. she insists that you two get up since matt is coming over in a few hours and it takes a while for you to get down the stairs without falling – jihyo did a great job, your legs are wobbly and aching– but nonetheless you make it downstairs to the kitchen.

jihyo lets you set your head on your cross arms over the counter since you’re so drowsy, she laughs and presses a kiss before fetching ingredients for lunch. you watch her with tired eyes; her muscles flex and tense as she assembles the ingredients for the sandwiches, leaving you stupidly mesmerized.

you get up and stretch your arms out, then walk over to the older woman. a short giggle leaves your lips as you wrap your hands around jihyo’s waist, she laughs wholeheartedly.

“did you need something?”

you kiss her head and linger before responding, “no, you just looked good from the back.”

“i have to cook lunch, matt is coming home in an hour.” jihyo says, turning to face you, lips inches away from yours.

as you carefully adjust the stovetop temperature to a low, your gaze lands on jihyo, prompting a mischievous smile to play upon your lips. your hands rest on her waist, you turn her body to face you, drawing her nearer with a subtle bite of your lip. jihyo rolls her eyes, a familiar exchange between you both, before your lips meet, you smile into it as you always do.

jihyo guides you towards the kitchen island, never relenting on the heat of her kisses. an involuntary groan escapes your lips as she playfully bites your lower lip, igniting subtle throbbing sensations in you. her lips, feather-light, wander along your jawline, slowly tracing the curves of your face like a breeze meeting petals of a flower.

mindful of your pleasure, you tilt your head back, granting her unrestricted access. her tongue traces your sensitive skin, a captivating and sensuous touch that sends shivers down your spine. jihyo has this power of leaving you breathless in seconds. in the moments between kisses, delightful giggles escape jihyo's lips.

“you’re such a--” another kiss to your jaw, “--tease.” jihyo says unbelievably.

“and you’re the one who’s ah- enjoying this.”

jihyo squeezes your ass gently before kissing your lips again, backing you into the marble of the counter and placing her hands on the edge as she smiles into you.

lost in pleasure and eagerness, the two of oyu fail to hear the sound of the door being unlocked, opened, and then closed. jihyo's hand slides just barely under your shirt, tickling your ribcage with the brush of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer, turning your head a little more to get a better taste, to get more of jihyo.

“um, y/n?” a voice interrupts the two of you, and it’s too familiar.

it unfolds like a movie scene; you and jihyo turn to find matt standing there, gripping a backpack strap tightly, his visage a mix of appalled and perplexed. in a rush of apprehension, both of you instinctively release each other, striving to create as much distance as possible while smoothing down stray strands of hair and meticulously adjusting wrinkled garments.

“matt,” jihyo says, trying to recompose herself—but the blush on her cheeks doesn’t die down whatsoever. “you’re home early. i thought you were coming back at 1?”

“yeah...” he says awkwardly, embarassed and flushed as he tries to avoid any eye contact. “i was just going to say hi and um, work on homework.”

“alright, i was just making dinner with--” jihyo clears her throat, “y/n.”

matt looks between the two of you, narrowing his eyes and sighing.

“how long have you two been... doing this?”

you and jihyo exchange a look before you decide to speak up this time, “let’s all sit down at the table and talk about this, how about that?”

now, you’re trying to form the words to explain that you’ve fucked some kid's aunt the night before, and jihyo’s trying to do properly conjure up a sentence that explains the marks on your neck.

#twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice #twice jihyo #jihyo x reader #jihyo imagines #park jihyo #twice smut

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satorusugurugurl · 1 month

Text

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,882

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls

A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client!

“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.” Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

“Thank fuck.”

“It was just weird.”

“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?”

Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”

“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.

What the fuck was this life?

Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door.

You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.

It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly.

The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.

By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.

“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”

”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”

“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”

God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.

His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence.

The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.

”Of course.”

“Why did you become an escort?”

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.

”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.”

“For sex?!”

“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?”

You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”

“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”

Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.

“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow

“Y/N, could I ask you something?”

“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat.

“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”

Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him.

Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.

“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.”

Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest.

“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.”

“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.”

Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.

“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”

“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”

“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.”

Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.”

“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.”

The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.

The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.

But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him.

“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”

“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”

“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.”

His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend!

It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”

The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you.

“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm.

“Right! Right, sorry!”

You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”

“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?”

“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.”

“Then kiss her like you mean it!!”

You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.

“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!”

“Mina!”

“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!”

Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you. He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.

While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile.

“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.”

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him.

While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.

“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.

When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.

He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.

”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.

”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”

”Okay.”

His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.

His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns.

Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.

Holy shit, what was wrong with you!?

Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.

You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?

Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half.

“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.

”I’m in your head?”

Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.

”Toji—!”

“Shut up, we need to talk.”

(TBC)

Taglist:

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira

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squishycheekanon · 4 months

Note

If you’re getting into JJK I’m gonna call it, if you write Sukuna you’re gonna get a lot of people asking for more-

Itadori/Sukuna x reader

Sukuna was on my list 100%

Warnings: 18+, smut.

“Itadori fuck!” You screeched your back arching, tits pressing against his chest in way that has him groaning at the feel of it. Your sensitive nipples grazing against his skin sets your body on fire, it’s just right. Like the way he’s pounding in and out of you, leaving no time for you to even control your breathing.

“S-So good!” Itadori gasps almost whines as he fucks you, hovering over your body thrusting in and out so deliciously. His breath is hot and it tickles your ear as he pants into your neck.

“Please! Harder! Fuck me harder!” You begged, eyes fluttering close and head falling deeper into the pillows. You wanted it so badly, already creaming on his cock you needed that little bit extra for your orgasm to hit you.

He began to speed up, fucking you harder, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. He was no longer whining and moaning, he was grunting and almost growling in your ear. It took everything within you to try and focus on the changes, no only his sounds but he was gripping your wrists on either sides of your head, tighter now. Rougher.

You really did try and focus on it until he changed the angle he was fucking you at and suddenly your body went limp all you could do was lie there and let him fuck you, “Fuck I can’t!” You whimpered into the air.

“You asked for it. You’re gonna fucking take it.” That made you freeze up, Itadori doesn’t speak to you like that.

“Itadori?” He stopped thrusting at the sound of worry lacing your wavering voice. He pulled back out of where his face was hidden in your neck and the sight of him made your body tense, inhaling sharply.

His face was darker somehow, a smirk on his lips, one you’d never seen on your boyfriend before. And marks. Black symbols and lines across his chin, cheeks, forehead and nose. You instantly knew. “S-Sukuna?”

He chuckles letting go of one of your wrists and sliding his hand to grip your neck, “Hello sweetheart.” He squeezes your neck and you moan, the sound has a dirty grin forming on his face, his hips beginning to move once more.

“So fuckin’ naughty, aren’t you?” Sukuna panted, struggling not to close his eyes from how tightly you were clenching around his length. “Filthy little girl, likes to be choked hah? Likes to have her man’s fingers around her throat while he fucks her? Hmm?”

“Itadori could never fuck you this good.” He could feel you whine against his hand, and it made him feral. Unlocking a primal urge within Sukuna he didn’t even know he had, with you looking so small underneath him, so innocent, so submissive. Fuck he was going to to ruin you.

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seiwas · 8 months

Text

₊˚⊹。so this is what it means to be in love | gojo satoru

wc: 8.9k

summary: gojo finds out what it really means to be in love.

contains: f!reader in mind, friends to lovers (prev. slowburn), suggestive scenes, might be mature/mildly explicit? (i only mention ‘butt’ once though…), ‘being in love’ as a journey, almost like a falls in love first (you) vs. falls in love harder (gojo), they fight, they swear, character death/s mentioned, shibuya onwards spoilers, lots and lots and lots of love

a/n: this is better read after the other parts in the collection but can work as a stand alone too!, there’s a jump between this and tell me about love (show me how) so gojo would have developed a lot in the relationship since then!

collection masterlist: conversations on love +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave <- you are here + (extended scene) too good to be mine -> 3.5a. this feeling inside of me—

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!)

Gojo catches onto love slowly.

He takes the hand you leave open just for him, and closes the space between your palms, reducing infinity.

Maybe he’s felt it all this time without knowing; after all, love looks a lot less profound as friends in your early 20’s.

But being in it—being in love? That’s uncharted territory.

Gojo’s been to a lot of places, has travelled back and forth from point-to-point endlessly. He’s survived battles, a war, near-death, and cursed spirits reincarnate; he’s got eyes—two bright blue and an extra four hidden, ones that see beyond human comprehension. Unearthing this simple truth shouldn’t shake him, shouldn’t even faze him. If anything, he should have seen it coming—

Except, he doesn’t.

It sneaks up on him, bit by bit, until he finds that being in love means getting to experience you all over again, just differently.

It starts with the little things.

Gojo has known you for so long (a decade and a few years more), but has only recently begun to notice everything: how your baby hairs stick out in the humidity of summer, the way you purse your lips in thought before finally deciding on a drink to order. You play with your fingernails subconsciously, out of habit, the soft taps on your nail beds an accompaniment of anxious conversations you’ve had since you were 23.

He knows you always blink twice before focusing on him, and it’s a mystery whether this is a recent development or something he’s just never noticed, but if you’re trying to enchant him by the flutter of your eyelashes, he wants to let you know that it’s working—except, he knows that you aren’t, because you’re just like that: a daydream without even trying.

These aren’t new things; he’s sure he’s probably encountered them all before, but lately they’ve evolved into cute things, and there’s no hiding the slight curve of his lips every time he spots them.

The sun is beaming brighter this summer, the ocean a faraway blur from the beach towel you set up under the shade. Going to the beach is never your go-to when you think of an extremely hot afternoon, but Yuuji’s been eyeing a weekend getaway since sorcerer work’s lessened significantly.

‘It’s a good effort,’ Gojo convinces you, ‘to get everyone together again.’

And it is—you see it now: Yuuji and Megumi preparing to fling Yuuta into the water while Nobara and Maki race along the shoreline. Toge stays close to Panda but he watches fondly, eyes crinkling every now and then, happy.

When you blink, the image of them softens—a captured memory in the heat haze.

The only older ones here are you and Gojo; Shoko’s always disliked the stickiness of sunblock on her skin, and Ijichi’s new position has made him constantly busy. Somewhere in the distance, you can maybe envision Nanami. He wouldn’t come if you or Gojo asked, but if it were Yuuji—

You rub at your eye, resting your chin on your hand as you will your tear ducts to please, don’t cry.

Yuuji's been smiling a lot more lately, an observation you note from the way his ears are perked up every time you look his way. It’ll never be the same as it used to be but it’s relieving to know that he can exist living as himself now. Just Yuuji.

You hug your knees tighter to your chest, wrapping your arms around it. Your place under the coconut tree provides ample enough shade but your back still burns from Gojo haphazardly slathering sunscreen on it after hearing an ice cream stand from miles away.

The mind is a weird place to be at times like this—split into bittersweet reminiscing and telling yourself to just take this moment and breathe, to live in it. You think about Megumi, and how you hurt for him, always will, for all that he’s lost despite every attempt to avoid it.

You should have been there for Tsumiki, you could have been there for both of them.

Your guilt never leaves you even on days that shine as vividly as this, but perhaps that’s the silver lining—that they’re still with you, always. You can carry pieces of them to these places, and scatter them to the wind, to the sand, to the sea, and maybe to the ice cream stand Gojo’s waiting in line of, surrounded entirely by kids. They all rise to half his size, but if you squint, you think the bounce in his step makes him blend right in.

A chuckle escapes you.

You could sort through your memories and land on one where he looks just like this—freakishly large limbs towering over a tiny, excited Tsumiki. Back then, an ice cream stop after school consisted of your pseudo-family of four, with Megumi on your hand and Tsumiki on his leg, both gripping tightly to combat a chilly 10°C.

Things are different now, evidently. Megumi’s outgrown it, and Tsumiki is no longer here. But Gojo has stayed the same, and it’s comforting to know that he will continue to be this Satoru, your Satoru, even when some things are gone.

You don’t realize you’ve spaced out until he waves the ice cream cone while walking towards you.

Gojo is a sight in trunks the color of his eyes, with seahorses and starfishes in an alternating pattern of peachy-pink against cerulean blue.

You could have sworn you asked for your own cone, but he plops down beside you holding only one. For the both of you. The side-eye you give him is almost criminal, if not deadly, but your lips twitch from the smile you’re hiding (terribly).

He raises an eyebrow and you break character, shaking your head while laughing.

“Did you eat the other one on the way here?” you tease, craning your neck to lick at the bottom scoop (vanilla-strawberry-vanilla, Gojo’s signature order).

Your tongue lands dangerously close to his fingers, and he feels it, but his eyes only land on you—your lips, how they part for your tongue to glide smoothly on his–both of your–dessert. You look every bit of an angel in the soft, pale hues of your bikini, but Gojo’s thoughts are anything but saintly.

He blushes furiously, the tips of his ears and nose bright red as he turns away from you quickly.

“I’m fulfilling your dream of sharing an ice cream cone with me.” he tilts his chin up, proud, smirking slightly. He jokes about it knowing full well that this is his dream come true, just by the look of you.

You stay quiet, rolling your eyes but never meanly, no. You only ever do it fondly—he knows, being on the receiving end of it one too many times.

The beach towel scrunches when you scoot closer, looping your arm around his as you both rest your elbows on your knees. Gojo holds the cone between you two, tipping it towards you when it’s your turn to lick.

He shouldn’t stare, shouldn’t hyperfixate, but it’s so cute how you get the tiniest bit of ice cream on the tip of your nose—as if it belongs there, soft and sweet just like the rest of you.

You look up to find Gojo gazing at you, eyes glimmering like sunlight on the ocean, and a tiny smile that only widens when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, scrunching your nose in an effort to stop yourself from grinning.

When Gojo looks at you this way, as if you are his favorite place rediscovered, your heart thumps furiously against your ribcage.

“What…” you drawl, your smile impossible to hide in the lilt of your voice.

Gojo thinks he can count every eyelash, every speck of sand dotting your face, and stil not be bored of you. He can’t stop beaming.

Is this what it means to be in love with you?

“Nothing.” he replies, almost giggling, a little bashful but with every inch of sincerity. You know that smile, the only one that holds every ounce of Satoru. Gojo smiles big and wide to everyone else, but this small one you know, is reserved just for you.

He leans in, lips coming closer to brush against the tip of your nose. Your eyes fall shut, instinctively, and the pink dot is wiped clean, a hint of strawberry dancing on his palate. He’s done this more times than he can count, has gotten this near to know that close will never be close enough, but you still jolt a bit—PDA has never been your thing.

When he pulls away, you continue to stare at each other, locked in a gaze until the ice cream begins to drip down his fingers and onto the beach towel. It misses his trunks by a hair and you both laugh at how he belatedly tries to escape it even though it’s already there.

It’s indescribable, this moment, seeing you in slow motion, laughing as bright as the sun—the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. It takes every bit of him to look away so he can wipe his hands clean from the dripping dessert.

You hand him a packet of wipes and beckon him to sit in front of you after. Squeezed onto the palm of your hand is a copious amount of sunscreen you plan to slather all over him. A touch-up, if you will.

Gojo has sensitive skin, pale as bond paper and burns just as quickly. The high points of his face are already reddening, warm to the touch when you dab at them with sunscreen.

You’re so near, so close, sitting cross-legged in front of him with your knees touching his. The tip of your tongue sticks out just slightly as you focus on his skin.

Even though he knows, he still wonders what your lips would taste like, SPF chapstick and crumbly bits from the wafer cone. He wonders what your eyelashes would feel like, fluttering over his own.

The light casts a halo around you and he thinks it’s fitting for all that you do. You pamper him like this, slather love all over his chest and back, massage it in so it dissolves into him—and he feels it so deep that he tastes it.

How can your love be so sweet? He thinks, sighing as your fingers work sunscreen up his neck from his collarbone. You always apply his skincare like this: upwards, gently—‘no tugging, please!’—something about keeping his baby face even when he’s old.

“You should join them,” you mumble, rubbing more product onto the nape of his neck. You’re leaning over his shoulder, neck brushed against his cheek.

Gojo hums, watching everyone from a distance. It’s been a while since he’s had a day like this.

“But maybe after 30 minutes, so the sunblock doesn’t wash off. You’re already burning.” you note, coming back to sit.

Of course, he’s already burning. How can he not when the sun is right in front of him?

You join everyone for a game of beach volleyball in the sunset of the afternoon. You’re transported back to high school, the last time you did this—you and Satoru against Shoko and Suguru, with Haibara keeping score.

From the way Gojo’s eyes are glossed over, you can tell he’s thinking about it too, the memory having seared itself into your brains forever, it seems.

Being paired together should feel familiar—the same, but it doesn’t—isn’t, because Gojo can’t concentrate, sneaking glances to notice all the little things about you that he never used to. Your skin shines from the combination of sweat and sunscreen, and when you crash into him it’s both sticky and slippery. He should really ask for a time-out before you blind him completely.

You look unfairly good in your bikini, too good he can barely hear you calling for him; between the ocean and his blood rushing, any other sound is drowned out into nothing.

Maki and Yuuji absolutely demolish the both of you, reaching 15 first in the final set. Gojo blames the loss on you of course, even though he’s missed every pass you’ve sent his way and netted 60% of his spikes.

And maybe it technically is your fault—you and your (very distracting) little things. But it’s entirely on him that he’s fallen for it, fallen for you as much as this.

Gojo thinks of love differently when he sees a picture of himself and all it does is remind him of you.

There’s a photo tucked safely in his wallet (saved and set as his homescreen too). Shoko snorts when she walks in on him printing it, all six-foot-three of him hunched over the small inkjet printer in the faculty room.

“It’s all digital now, Satoru,” she scoffs, taking a puff on her cigarette.

Gojo doesn’t say anything even though he knows it’s true, too focused on watching the printer push out the two-by-three inch image he’s about to cut into.

Print photos aren’t as important anymore when cloud storage spaces are just as–if not more–accessible, but Gojo is admittedly sentimental despite every front he puts up to hide it.

He’s kept every single gift you’ve given him and camouflaged it as decoration in his office, and the family drawing 10-year-old Tsumiki made is still folded between the pages of a self-help book Yaga had given him when he first decided to teach.

When every moment is experienced so vividly, seen through a muddle of infinite energies, there are those he wishes could stay still—ones that take up space to remind him: ‘this is real, it happened, and here is proof that it did’.

He already has one of all of you, fresh-faced and barely pushing the peaks of youth at 16. A tangle of arms wrapped around each other—one of his gripping tightly on Suguru, and the other hanging loosely over you. Utahime is crouched in front, holding the hand you’ve placed on her shoulder while pulling Shoko into a semi-squish-semi-hug (because out of the four of you, Shoko is her favorite—completely valid; if given the choice, she’d be your favorite too). Nanami and Haibara stay close to Suguru, squatting low to balance the photo, and Haibara is smiling, the ever cheery grin Suguru loves to dote on, while Nanami is Nanami—sharp features and a serious gaze that you all know he’ll grow into someday, handsome with age.

For the longest time, Gojo has kept that photo hidden, locked away in the drawer of his bedside table as if keeping it there means the memory will stay guarded forever—untouched, unspoiled, unruined.

It would have stayed there if you didn’t stumble upon it while looking for his painkillers during another one of his skull-crushing migraines.

You approach him with the image hesitantly, eyes damp and glossy. Years have faded the colors ever so slightly, but the corners remain crisp from being stowed away neatly. You say sorry, that you shouldn’t have looked through his things, but you remember the moment it was taken so fondly: a visit to the Kyoto campus on a one-day break to train with other students.

Gojo has many theories about time and the multitude of spaces it takes—like how a person can exist at different points in time, disparate at each instance, and still take up the same big chunk of space. The opposite can be true too, that someone can live finitely (just once) and occupy spaces in every place you look: the face of a passerby down the road, a sign at the corner of the street, or even a photograph that immortalizes people you once knew.

He only shares when you ask, aware that he tends to be a bit of a nerd about it whenever it’s brought up, but you don't mind. You like listening to it all, no matter how insightful or confusing they are for you to make sense—a version of him not many get to witness. His explanations are comprehensible for the most part, except—

When Gojo tells you that he’s kept the image in his drawer, hidden, because exposing it to the space-time that exists now will erase every reminder that it ever happened, you hug him tightly.

Your sniffles are heard from the way his head is tucked into the crook of your neck, your fingers gripping strands of his hair in empathy.

He considers your near-tears as a sign that the memory is long gone, decayed into the brittling tragedy of reality. But you smile, the corners of your lips bittersweet as you express disbelief that he’s kept it all this time.

You tell him delicately that some precious things are meant to be celebrated, put out to be remembered—to be experienced.

And it becomes clearer to him then, by the look in your eyes and remembrance soft-spoken, that what good is a photo unseen?

What good is a love unwitnessed?

When you gift him a frame a year after finding the photo, he hangs it by the wall next to his office door. The image is painful to look at, always has been (even when it was hidden in his drawer)—during Suguru’s defection, and death anniversaries especially.

The recent one for Nanami was heavy; the first time he’s ever been able to process grief fully.

Gojo can argue that it grows more difficult every time he catches a glimpse of it from his desk, but you have a way of honoring pain that doesn’t make it sting as bad—that turns it into a reminder of a love that was once there, of feelings that hurt as evidence that someone cared.

Now, he wants another photo printed, one of just the two of you. Not because it hurts, but because he wants this precious thing to be remembered and seen—for this love to be witnessed too.

It’s self-timered, snapped under the shade of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. The picture is far from perfect: your eyes bright and mouth open mid-fear of his phone falling off the bridge railing.

You may look a teensy bit funny, but Gojo will always find it cute. Anyone can see it, at how he looks at you in that moment—like you are every bit worthy of the distance travelled and seasons waited. He gazes at you fondly, eyes holding clear skies and pink lips curling into a small smile.

It’s cheesy, but if you ask him what he thinks about this year’s flowers, he’ll tell you none of them (not even any of them combined) could compare to you. The cherry blossoms could be gone and he’d still see them everywhere (in the softness of your lips, the fullness of your cheeks, the radiance you emit when you are truly, solely content and happy).

He remembers that afternoon well: the spring breeze that jolts his phone sideways, his hand resting on your lower back, unseen in the image. There’s no real reason for visiting the blossoms on this day of all days, but Gojo doesn’t believe in coincidences, and he’s counted down exactly to a year since you both had your first kiss.

It’s so silly, because he’s never thought of things like this before. He knows you probably don’t think much of it either considering that neither of you have made anything official yet since.

And he feels a little stupid for that, honestly.

You have a drawer of his clothes for the nights he stays over (more often than not), and even though you go on these little trips that are so obviously dates, you both still just tell everyone you’re ‘hanging out’.

He’s not fooling anyone here, not when he looks at you then with the feeling of his chest expanding, stretching to accommodate the overflows of his affection since learning the ways to love you—tenderness caught in little pixels of eternity.

When Gojo goes through all 179 photos from that afternoon, he filters out the ones to delete and picks this one out especially—favorites and resizes it to fit his home screen and his wallet too.

There’s something about the look on his face that reminds him of every time he’s caught the same one on you.

He slides the photo into the little sleeve behind his credit card, catching himself smiling—this must be because of you, he thinks, and the bits and pieces of yourself that have somehow become part of him slowly, sneaking into him unknowingly.

If this is what it means to be in love, with you, then he’s fucked.

Don’t you know that he’s insatiable? These traces of you will only make him want the whole of you.

You find the photo while he rushes to the restaurant restroom. On ‘hang out’s like this, you insist on splitting the bill, but Gojo has always been stubborn and you’ve learned that you can never argue.

He hands you his wallet to pay with his card, and when you slide it out, the photo falls. It’s face down on the floor when you pick it up, fully expecting it to be a photocard of some idol you know Gojo follows.

But it isn’t, and your smile widens.

When Gojo comes back, you’re looking up at him affectionately, biting your lips as if to stop yourself from speaking—the same way he always does.

It’s funny because, slotted between your two fingers is the photo he’s kind of flustered you found, but he has no time to be embarrassed when he sees a little bit of himself in the way you’re staring at him right now.

“So, Yuuji asked if we were together.”

You quirk an eyebrow, looking up at Gojo from the pile of laundry you’ve begun folding on your bed. He emerges from the bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel.

Over the past year, Gojo has spent his weekends off with you, sleeping over and traipsing around your room in his pajama set as if he’s lived here just as long as you.

You snort as you fold, amused that this is even a question to begin with. Yuuji’s always been known for being exceptionally dense, but you didn’t think it was this bad. Gojo was especially touchy with you during that beach trip, and you’re sure Megumi and Nobara have caught up to let him know by now, somehow.

“What made him ask?”

“I think he wants to take you away.” Gojo teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he throws the towel on the chair across your vanity.

You roll your eyes, still sweetly, indulging him, “Sure.”

It’s now a running joke that Gojo’s threatened about Yuuji stealing you; you’ve always had a soft spot for bright eyes and even brighter souls and Yuuji is as close to that as anyone can get.

It’s not like that though, it could never be; Yuuji is just like your Megumi—the two boys you want to protect and care for in hopes of treating them better than their lives have ever.

Gojo feels the same, you know, otherwise he wouldn’t have guided them as much as he has (despite his... questionable ways). Still, your hands have always been gentler, kinder—and though shorter, have always outstretched much farther than his.

You have a way of inching yourself into people’s lives that just fits. He’s experienced it first-hand, can’t even dare to imagine what his life would be like if you didn’t.

He walks across the room to you, bed dipping as he steadies a knee before draping his entire body over your shoulders.

Now that you think about it, it makes sense that Yuuji’s confused, because Gojo has always been extremely touchy to everyone, just never when the feelings mattered, with you. Kiss him once, though, and it snowballs into an avalanche of firsts. And what he’s about to do right now, he thinks, might just trigger another one to form all together.

“As if I’d let him.” he mumbles right by your ear, chin tucked by the crook of your neck. It tickles when he speaks, his nose poking at your cheeks.

“Who put you in charge?” you scoff jokingly, unfazed.

He moves away from you in disbelief, mouth open as he stares at you mindlessly folding.

To be fair, he can’t fault you. You aren’t technically official even though you have kind-of-been for a little over a year. There’s no particular reason, just that you haven’t talked about it—part because you wanted him to approach it whenever he was ready, and also, because it just never seemed like a priority.

You laugh as he stares at you, stunned into silence, the pout on his face borrowed from all the versions of yours.

There’s no point of contention because you’ve only ever loved Gojo since you were 17.

“Kidding,” you kiss his cheek as an apology.

“Don’t even joke about that.” he huffs, you’re starting to take after him a little too much.

“You’re mine.” he murmurs after, arms wrapped around your waist and legs stretched out wide to encase you.

He says it as if it is the simplest truth.

Your heartbeat quickens, too loud and pounding; this is the first time you’ve ever heard this from him, and a part of you thinks this is just another one of those flirty side-comments he makes on a whim.

“You tell him that?” you hope he can’t hear your voice shake as he nuzzles your neck, your fingers trembling on the pair of socks you have yet to roll.

He hums, hugging you tighter. He waits for you to finish folding before letting you lean against him, offering his fingers for you to fiddle with. They’re cold, long and slender, veiny just by a bit, and he always gives them to you like they’re yours, you like to think.

There’s an inhale, a breath of hesitation, before he exhales.

“Something like it.”

You don’t say anything, only nod, and it’s nerve-wracking. He’s so nervous even though he knows he doesn’t have to be because it’s just you. And there’s no need to doubt what you’re feeling. But—

“You are though,” he pauses, “right?”

He has to be sure. This is a testament to you more than himself that he’s learned to ask instead of bulldozing you like he does with everyone else. Who else will he pick that up from but you?

There’s hesitation you hear that you think shouldn’t be there anymore; the fact that you’ve given so much of yourself to this man and he still thinks you’re unsure—

“‘Cause I’m yours.” he speaks, clearly, definitively, before you can even answer. And you know—you’ve known ever since that party years ago. A simple admittance: ‘I’m taken’.

You turn around to face him, eyes shimmering.

Can he see? You’re meant for him only.

All you’ve ever wanted was to love him; everything else he’s done up until this point is already more than you could ever imagine. The labels can only do so much to capture the gravity of what you are to one another: years of history unpacked into a mishmash of feelings overlapping—it’s a lot.

You sit cross legged in front of him, your knees touching his. He’s biting his lips again, an anxious habit you want to kiss away.

Gojo has proven far too much of himself already that he’s serious with you—your kind-of-confession, that confrontation, and the days after, all the ways you’ve both learned to love each other.

You cup his cheeks.

A single word cannot possibly define what he is to you.

“I mean, o-only if you want me to be.” he adds on, blue eyes darting back and forth.

Gojo runs his mouth almost all the time and you’ve never heard him stutter once in his life. Except now.

He’s endearing like this—a version of him you are slowly discovering.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” you finally say, and it’s a relief.

He feels good, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pull you closer, hugging you tighter as you both smile.

He kisses you once, twice, maybe a million times all over, travelling across your eyelids, the center of your forehead, down to the corners of your mouth before landing a real one right on your lips.

Gojo always looks pretty but he looks prettiest like this, worry-free, with love in his eyes and nothing but pure happiness in the way he holds you.

He won’t tell you that Yuuji asked about your anniversary, not if you were together.

At least now he has an answer.

Gojo stares at you like he wants to say something, a thank you maybe, but he bites his lips instead. No words will ever amount to this feeling, he thinks, of his chest expanding and heart hammering. So he kisses you with all of it, trailing soft smacks of his lips down your neck, tickling. The tips of his hair are still wet from his shower, leaving droplets on your skin as he nips.

You laugh—sprinkled in love.

“S-stop!” you push him away, “Satoru,” giggling, “tickles!”

“We have to consummate it now.” he whispers, grabbing you by the waist to place you on his lap, squeezing your sides while nibbling at your neck playfully.

You roll your eyes at his antics, “It’s not–” you laugh out loud when he pinches your hips, “–marriage, Satoru.”

Oh, if only you knew, he thinks.

The image you’ve planted in his head is dangerous when he’s this drunk on love right now.

More decades, more years spent with you? In another life, or maybe even in this one, if time permits, he wouldn’t mind making that come true.

It’s crazy how much things can change—for all his life, he’s ruled out the possibility of love ever taking root in his ribcage.

You’ve managed to make it feel so easy, so good, even when he was shit-terrified not knowing how to love you like he should.

Now, he thinks, how could he ever miss out on love this way? A love this good, with you?

For all of Gojo’s life, he’s never had to be anyone else—always the strongest, the only one. He’s never had to change anything about himself, because what’s there to improve when you’re already the best?

In a way, this is why it works with you. You’ve taken him as he is, all the good and ugly and never asked for anything more than what he can give.

But being this in love with you—it’s foreign. There are pieces within him shifting, all on their own without him knowing.

How he wants to be better, for you. To be good enough to deserve all of it, and give back more of it too.

Gojo doesn’t realize how much love has changed him until he feels it uprooting every insecurity he never even knew existed, pulling it all up to the surface.

When things are going great, it’s hard to imagine them ever going the other way.

“You don’t mean that.” you mumble, voice trembling.

Gojo stares at you, at your lips quivering and the fists clenched to your sides. There are tears collecting in pools by your eyes, and if there’s anything else he hates in this world, it’s seeing you cry.

So why?

Why couldn’t he just shut up?

“Please tell me you don’t mean that,” you take a step closer, gripping the edge of his jacket, “Satoru.” your voice cracks, begging.

It’s an out-of-body experience when Gojo registers that he’s fucked up, and he sees himself now, bird’s-eye-view, and thinks this is the worst thing he could do to you after all you’ve been through.

“I need some time to think,” he says, finally, the only words coming out of his mouth—but he can’t hear himself speaking.

He should have said sorry, taken it all back, he thinks, not make it worse by leaving.

He heads for the door, heart crunching under each footstep away from you.

Is this what being in love’s supposed to do? Break his heart while yours is bleeding?

You’re too good for Gojo, in every sense of the word—and he knows it.

You are far too kind, far too generous, far too patient with him. You give him more love than he deserves, definitely, and admittedly enough, with how he is, you have been settling for the bare minimum but that’s on him, not on you.

He had no right speaking to you the way he did, hurting you with accusations born from insecurities he’s never before had to deal with.

He knows it.

Who accuses you of ‘meddling’ as if everything out of you doesn’t come from the goodness of your heart? Of provoking you with ‘chasing the bare minimum’ as if he isn’t aware that that’s all he’s given you to work with?

Utahime was right in telling you to be careful with him, and he doesn’t blame her for it. He would have done the same.

He should have told you there was something brewing inside of him already—should have talked to you instead of bursting from all the things people have been saying lately.

Gojo hasn’t spoken to you in three days and the feeling this compares to is worse than anything else he’s ever had to face.

He knocks on your door at night, a little past dinner and too early for bedtime. They echo loudly within the walls of your apartment, and you drag yourself up despite your obvious look of heartbreak.

Gojo hears your footsteps and everything moves entirely too slowly; the lock, taking far too long to turn, the gap between the door and the door frame widening incrementally. Even your face comes into view as if in stop motion, frame-by-frame, gradually.

His hands are in his pockets, lips bitten to bleed. He’s pretty sure he isn’t breathing when he takes you in—puffy eyes and a sweater that belongs to him.

(Is it sick of him to say that he still finds you beautiful this way? Even when you look every bit the part of heartache?)

Gojo didn’t have a plan coming here, didn’t have a list of things to say, just the feeling that he needed to talk to you, see you, even just be around you today.

When your eyes meet, it’s quiet. You stare into him for one–two–three– (Can you tell that they’re watery? Can you see they’re puffed up too?) and then open the door wider to let him in. You head straight to the kitchen, never once looking back while dragging your feet.

He stands outside a few seconds more, waiting for you to take it back—but you don’t, so he walks in and closes the door.

He’s been in your apartment plenty of times before, has practically lived in it by how often he stays over. But this is the first time he’s felt wholly out of place, not knowing where to put himself, just standing in the space between your kitchen counter and the living room awkwardly.

You push a glass of water towards him and he can’t stop staring at it—at you, at your fingers that he wants nothing more now but to hold.

Even with all his faults, all his wrongs, you open your arms for him to walk into, allow him in as if he didn’t just hurt you.

And he wants to cry, at the fact that this place still feels like home, at how it’ll always feel that way wherever you go.

How are you still treating him so kindly? Still taking care of him? A glass of water is one too many for someone like him.

You turn away from him to pour yourself your own then he speaks—

“You should be angry with me.” Gojo says softly, but you hear it.

You pause, tilting the pitcher back upright.

“Why aren’t you angry at me?” he says, a little louder this time, more desperate, more pleading.

Why are you never angry at me? he wants to ask.

You turn around to face him, putting the pitcher down.

Under your kitchen lights, his eyes shine like sunlight on the ocean, waves lapping on the shore. You think it might be a trick of the light, but his lips tremble when he closes them, as if he can’t speak any more.

It’s just as you’ve said, there’s no point being angry with him when your heart can never take it.

You always give Gojo the benefit of the doubt, and though he’s hurt you—though this might be the most painful thing he’s told you yet, you know that he’s been under immense pressure lately. Stressed beyond belief from negotiating with the government on policies for jujutsu society.

It’s not an excuse, you know, but Gojo always has his reasons. He'll tell you eventually, you believe that much.

You give him a sad smile, struggling to stop your tears from spilling. His fists are clenched too tightly, nails digging in hard enough to bleed. He hasn’t moved since coming in, so you push yourself off the kitchen sink towards him.

You take his hands first, unfurl each finger pressed upon his palm and rub gently. He cries quietly for a love so pure that only you would attempt to ease his hurt despite the pain he’s dealt you.

You tiptoe second, pulling the sleeves of your (his) sweater before reaching up to wipe his eyes—beautiful and blue just like you’ve always known, droplets of the ocean at your fingertips.

“Be mad,” he whispers, “please.” squeezing his eyes tightly.

It hurts more when you aren’t, he thinks.

His hand comes up to grip your wrist, bringing it down to cup his cheek. You stroke your thumb across his skin, soothing, loving, and that’s all it takes for him to pull you in. He hugs you tight, arms wrapped around you, clutching.

He wouldn’t deserve you. In any life.

Gojo’s never cried this much before, head pressed to your neck as you rub circles along his back, shushing him softly. You start sniffling too, small at first until it turns into soft hiccups when you finally cry.

Your grip on him tightens.

“‘M sorry.” he mumbles, lips moving against your neck.

“‘S–” you hiccup, “–okay.”

“Stop saying that when it’s not,” he presses against you, nuzzling your neck, “I hurt you.”

“Then don’t–” another hiccup, “–call yourself–” hic, “–bare minimum.” you cry harder.

Gojo knows your heart and the tears that leak out of your eyes; he knows they hold pain for more than just yourself but every single person in your life. You, crying now, is evidence of that truth—shedding tears for him not just because of him when he thinks he’s the bare minimum.

This must be what it means to be truly, deeply loved, he thinks, to have someone know what you mean without even having to speak it—to know your heart, and all the good and bad parts of it.

“I don’t think I’m good enough to you,” he admits, pulling himself away from you.

When he sees your face, wet, with your nose and eyes puffed up from crying, he decides that he hates it more than anything else. Makes it sick to his stomach, even.

He cradles your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your tears. A whole hand of his could cover your face entirely, but he always, without fail, holds you delicately.

“That’s not–” hic, “–true.” you gather your breathing, holding him by the wrists as he presses his forehead against yours. “Only I get to decide that. Not anyone, not you.”

You kiss his lips, a small peck before nudging his nose with yours. You soothe each other this way—in the quiet, swaying to your own tune.

“You’re good to me plenty, Satoru.” you whisper, once both of you have settled.

He opens his eyes to look at you, smiling sadly as he cradles your face, “I didn’t mean it.”

Whatever he told you that day, taking it all out on you.

“I know.” you mumble, nodding.

You always do.

Gojo has always loved you, in some type of way—as friends, colleagues, a-little-bit-more-but-less-than what you are today.

But how he feels right now? It’s kind of ridiculous, borderline out-of-hand, and it’s driving him insane.

It’s such a simple, ordinary thing for you to do: you rush up to him, phone in hand and scroll to some video you found online. You’re so excited, a bounce in your step as if he’s the first and only person you want to show this to. Your eyes shine bright with a megawatt smile to match, and you’re talking so, so fast, completely lit up like fireworks in the making.

He knows you think that he’s listening but, he couldn’t care less about it honestly. Sorry. Not when the words go in one ear and out the other, because all that registers is how adorable you are, giddy and everything.

He makes a joke—completely unrelated, but you find it so funny. Then you’re laughing, full on smacking his arm, doubled over, arms hugging your stomach, guffawing. Your feet are kicking the air as you sink deeper into your couch. Gojo’s standing in front of you, post-enactment of some impression he made, and he’s frozen in place but warm all over.

Seeing you laugh like this, smile like this, being so pretty when you’re happy, the pounding in his chest goes crazy.

This isn’t the first time he’s made you laugh; he does it all the time. You almost always roll your eyes and chuckle, sometimes giggle with your eyes squinting and laugh lines creasing. But it might be the first time it’s like this: with you so bright, more than the sun and every other star in the sky.

And he thinks, this is all he could ever want—to make you happy for the rest of his life.

There’s too much of this feeling inside of him, clawing at his throat, itching to get out. He’s filled with it, has been filled with it for so long that it’s starting to overflow and if he doesn’t say this now he might just—

“I’m so in love with you.”

Gojo breathes it out, as if finally releasing it after all this time. You don’t think he processes it because he just stands there, in the middle of your living room, staring at you.

Your laughter dies with maybe a little part of you too (in a good way).

He looks so sweet, so sincere, and you see his heart, so big, so honest and pure. You get flashbacks of every Satoru you have ever known, at 15, 17, 23, to now.

It’s not like either of you don’t know; it’s plain as day, how you feel about each other—and you would have been fine going on without ever having to hear him speak of love this way.

But hearing it now, it’s far better than anything you could have imagined.

You stare at him. He stares at you.

He’s shocked too.

You don’t want to embarrass him, especially if he didn’t mean to say it, so you chuckle, moving on to break the quiet.

“I can unhear it if you want,” you offer shyly, genuinely.

Gojo looks at you, confused, before a pout makes its way onto his face. You sit up on your couch, playing with your fingers as you look up at him.

Sure, he practically blurted it out, maybe in the heat of the moment, or something, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And he’s realizing that the only thing he really wants from this—

“Though…” you continue, biting your lips, “I think I’m pretty in love with you too.”

The little laugh you make has him, completely.

The grin that breaks on his face is infectious. Gojo, who is normally so pale, is now pink all over—red by his ears and down his neck. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that can be found in yours too.

This moment right here feels like first loves—teens first saying ‘I love you’.

“You think?” he asks incredulously, joking, “So you’re not sure?” he walks closer to you.

You laugh, candy for his cravings, and take his hand to kiss each knuckle before guiding it to your cheek. He runs a thumb across your skin, affection on his fingertips. His index finger hooks itself under your chin, tilting it to rest on his stomach as you look up at him.

A kiss to your forehead, tenderly, gently.

The best part about being in love?

He gets to be in it with you.

Gojo can’t sleep.

It’s not anything new—4 hours on average, maybe 6 on a good night. He doesn’t remember a time when sleep ever came easily.

Sleeping with you, beside you, has helped, but it’s never solved the problem. You’ve gotten him to a full 8 hours before, but never consecutively, and he’s starting to think that if you can’t do it, nothing ever will.

Your sleeping positions change every night, but they always come out as some variation of hugging. Gojo firmly believes that he might as well sleep alone if you aren’t touching.

Tonight, you’re spooning, arm slung over his waist and palm right on his chest, fingers interlaced with his. Your legs stay tangled together with soft puffs of air blowing at the back of his neck.

He opens his eyes and checks the clock by his bedside. 3:24 a.m.

He sighs deeply, carefully maneuvering his body to slip away from you. You used to wake up the first few times this happened, worried about an emergency or some kind of accident. Being a sorcerer trains you for things like that.

You’ve always known Gojo had bad sleep, just not the severity of it.

You don’t wake up to it as much as you used to, having grown accustomed to it after more nights together, but on the off-chance that you do, Gojo always kisses your forehead gently as if to tell you that it’s okay, you can go back to sleep.

You don’t wake up now, thankfully, so he grabs his phone and heads for the kitchen. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest tonight, far heavier than others he’s woken up from. He pours himself a glass of water before hopping on the kitchen counter, ready to sort through the bowl of candy sitting on the island.

The date today is October 31. Halloween. It’s been a few years since Shibuya but he still feels like he’s suffocating.

In the train station. In the box.

In front of Suguru—or Kenjaku, both, whatever.

He’s gone to therapy, just like you wanted, for the both of you, and grieving has been an interesting concept to wrap his head around since.

But no matter how much he trains his mind to deal with it, his body will always remember the feeling.

He snaps out of it when he hears your footsteps padding on the floorboards. Your figure emerges from the hallway, bed hair and eyes still sleepy, squinting.

“Satoru?” you rub at your eyes, his sleep shirt entirely too long as the sleeves extend past your fingertips. The extra fabric swings in the air. “You okay?” you whisper, approaching him.

Waking you up is the last thing he could ever want right now, but it’s hard when you’re also the only one he can talk about this with. When you know what it’s like to grieve everyone too.

He has every intention of brushing it off, of telling you to go to sleep, but one look at you—one look at him and it’s like you just know. He doesn’t even need to explain.

It isn’t hard to piece together, knowing what today is and seeing him choked up the way he is. You tell Gojo it’s your intuition, but he has a tell, and maybe you’re the only one who knows it.

His eyes—they’ve always given him away. There’s the Satoru you know, then a Satoru that’s far removed, gone away. You can spot it though, the moment it loses its sparkle, the moment it turns from blue to gray.

He feels a little selfish sharing this with you; he’s not the only one who’s lost people. You have too.

You stand in front of him and offer a sad smile, outstretching your arms as an invite, as if to tell him: you can stay here for as long as you’d like.

He moves into your space slowly, hopping off the kitchen island to slump against you.

He doesn’t hug you yet, not immediately, hands still shaky at the memory. You rub his back, hooking your chin on his shoulder as he bends down to rest his head by your cheek.

You take his hand delicately, bringing them to your lips so you can kiss every fingertip gently. When you finish, he wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whisper, like a hushed secret.

And he wants to, but also, there isn’t anything else to say that you don’t know already. You were there the first few times he had therapy, and when he felt comfortable enough to go alone, he told you all about it anyway right after.

If there’s a secret to fighting the Gojo Satoru with guaranteed victory, they’d only have to get to you—he’d be gone, entirely. You know too much of him, own too many parts of him already.

He chuckles dryly, vibrating by your neck. A step back and he’s leaning against the counter, bringing you closer by the hip, thumb stroking. He tucks away strands of your hair behind your ear, flattening down the bird’s nest that it is from your sleep.

“Nothing you haven’t heard before, pretty.”

Gojo’s been more tender lately, especially in the night when his piercing eyes turn soft, gazing.

You pout, the same one since you were 16. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it, the way he calls you such sweet, honeyed things; you’ve only recently begun to call him ‘baby’ and that alone has been enough to make your head spin.

Still, he wouldn’t be your Satoru if he didn’t surprise you. With how he is now, it’s hard to imagine a time when this was all so difficult for him, when even the slightest bit of your hands touching was challenging.

It’s hard to imagine that both of you are here now, living in the same space, by the kitchen at night, with the contents of your hearts memorized—the sorrow, the pain, the joy, all the love, every single one.

He kisses your nose, and that’s comfort alone.

This is his reality now, with you, and it’s safe.

It’s good.

“Do you want to make waffles?” he hears you mumble, running your hands over his chest, soothing.

The clock reads 3:56 a.m. Early breakfast doesn’t sound so bad, could also be a midnight snack.

(But he knows what you’re doing).

You don’t tell him to try to go back to sleep, never forcing anything you know he can’t do. Instead, you offer yourself to stay up with him, keep him company. Whatever he needs.

(And he loves that about you).

Gojo will forever argue that you might have fallen first, but he’s definitely fallen harder.

He could map out every single location he’s laid his love on—your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your nose, and your lips, the same ones he’s kissed and nipped, bitten until he gets his fill.

Your neck and chest—a canvas for his desires. He glides a finger across your collarbone before lightly tapping on it thrice.

There’s the little dip at the base of your spine, and your thighs—

Oh, he could get lost in them.

He knows.

He has. Many times.

There’s an animal inside of him that only answers to you.

When you kiss his neck and grip his back, soft moans by his ear—short and sweet. He’s a gone man, wholly devoted to you, and you only.

You breathe his name out, “Satoru,” raspily, and he sinks into you—everything, all that he has spilling in the depths of you.

How can he possibly contain all this love?

It’s scary how so much of him already belongs to you, all these years—how you’ve been carrying pieces of him, all versions of him throughout every birthday, every moment you’ve touched his life and have it irrevocably changed.

“Are you happy?” he mumbles by your ear, voice deep and lazy.

It’s the morning, sunlight barely peeking through your curtains. Gojo hugs you from behind, arms caging you as he traces little hearts on your sides.

“Right now?” you whisper back, chuckling, “That’s not fair.”

He nips at your ear, a small bite, before you turn to face him.

He supposes you’re right, it isn’t fair to ask that now; both your bodies are sore, well-exhausted, and littered with conversations on love.

Gojo is pretty in the mornings just like he is all the time, his hair lending well to sunlight as much as it does to the moonlight. And his eyes—they shine a different shade during the day compared to the night.

You though, you’re an entirely different creature of your own: a goddess in bedsheets and pillows, wrapped in immaculate white.

You giggle when you face him, nose-to-nose, and he pulls you in tighter, grips you by the butt to slot you in right where you belong.

Are you happy with me?

He wonders, and you can read it—his eyes his greatest tell. You kiss him tenderly, lips moving gently against his. Then you smile, sincerely, before whispering—

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!) thank you notes: to @stellamancer for being there since the very start!! col wouldn’t even exist without you!! you’re every much part of the creation of this as i am :'), to @crysugu for being so ever supportive, cheering me on all the time!! and for loving col reader as much as i do!! and to you reading this and everyone else who has loved this collection so far!! of course!! a credit to all the writers whose works have inspired the way i view and write gojo: to @seravphs for teen dad!gojo and cruel summer influences, i draw so much of the way i understand these characters and their dynamics from you and your beautiful way of writing them and i hope my interpretation gives justice to that!!, to @augustinewrites for keeping up with the fushigojos, this series and the way you write them, with so much love, has always pushed for me to view gojo that way!! you’ve inspired so much of my understanding that gojo does believe in love and that when he falls in it, he falls in it hard!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru #shotorus.writes #col #algorithm pls love me

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daycourtofficial · 5 months

Text

Capture the Mate

Summary: Azriel has to leave on a mission for a few days, but he asks Cassian to help look after his pregnant mate while he’s gone. Someone ambushes you and Cassian, taking you as prisoner.

Author’s note: this was requested by this lovely anon!!

“You look massive today.”

You snort at Cassian as you walked in, your giant belly making sitting down a bit difficult.

“And you look extra stupid today,” you retort, “guess we’re both glowing.”

Cassian laughs, going back to his cereal. You were in the last few months of your pregnancy and you were ready to meet your baby. You loved being pregnant, you loved how hot sex with your mate was because of it, you loved cradling your bump and the way your mates hands always find your bump.

But you didn’t love Cassian’s comments comparing you to a whale, the back pain, the inability to get comfortable, and your mate’s overprotectiveness being dialed up by a factor of a thousand.

Azriel was going on fewer missions these days due to your pregnancy, opting to delegate most of them to his most trusted spies. There are occasionally some missions he has to do himself, not happy about leaving you, practically throwing temper tantrums in the lead up to being gone. When he comes home it’s as if he’s been off at war for decades, checking every inch of you, asking you about every detail of your time in his absence (even down to what you ate exactly - he thinks you don’t eat enough vegetables in his absence).

This is the fifth mission during your pregnancy he’s gone on, and each time he can’t bear to leave you without someone who can protect you. Whenever Azriel has to go, he ensures one of his brothers or Feyre will be present with you at all times. Whenever he’s gone, you just stay in your old room at the House of Wind or at Feyre and Rhys’s new house.

At first it sounded a bit like needing a babysitter, but now it’s more like just staying at someone’s house for a sleepover. Feyre and Nesta always tried to help you have fun, spending the days you’re with them doing the things you love. Cassian loves you being there because he likes to have eating competitions with you, and Rhys likes it because he spoils you rotten.

Before Azriel left, he spent probably an hour saying goodbye to you and the babe. He’d kiss you, then move down to talk to the babe. “Stay in there until I return,” he’ll whisper. “Be nice to your mom while I’m gone, okay? Let her sleep, I won’t be here to rub her back when you kick her in the kidneys.”

This time he actually tears up a bit at leaving the two of you. He looks at you, grabbing your face in his hands, “I shouldn’t be too long, sweetheart. Be safe, I love you.”

“Any plans for the day, Cass?”

“Mmm not really, I already had training, so my day is free to be spent with you, my favorite sister.”

You smile. “You say that to both me and Feyre,” you reply, rolling your eyes fondly.

Cassian lifts his spoon to finish off the last of his cereal. “It changes day by day - today you’re the favorite.”

You had asked Cassian if you two could go back to your home with Azriel, you had some chores to do and you also wanted to work on setting up the nursery.

Looking around the nursery you take in what needs to be done. A month out from the baby’s arrival and your mate still hasn’t set up the crib. But if you set it up without him he’d give you a big lecture about how he was going to do it and how you could get yourself hurt doing it, so you’ll just leave it be.

You have a dresser set up and a wardrobe that practically rivals your own, so you decide to spend the day folding and putting away baby clothes.

Cassian graciously offered to clean the dishes that were in the sink, along with sweeping and mopping your downstairs floors.

After telling him he didn’t have to do that, he responded, “well I don’t want dirty floors for Cassian Jr. here when he starts crawling, and I don’t want you mopping because if you slip you might hurt Cassian Jr.” He finished his statement by reaching out to rub your belly.

You rolled your eyes at him, as he smiles at your belly. “Cassian, aren’t Jr’s supposed to be named after their father or mother? Last I checked, this wasn’t your baby.”

He strokes his thumb over your bump, hoping to feel a kick from within, “we could convince Az it’s mine. I think it’d be hilarious.”

You snort, “he’d kill you in a heartbeat.”

Cassian sighs, “I suppose. Maybe the next one can be Cassian Jr.” He wiggles his eyebrows as he tries to look at you suggestively.

You fling your arms, bringing on of your hands to your forehead dramatically, “Oh Cassian your powers of seduction are too strong, I’m irresistibly drawn to you! I must flee, to keep myself from pouncing on you.”

Laughter from the both of you echoing through the house as you attempt to scuttle away but it becomes more of a waddle as you climb the stairs to your nursery.

An hour or two had passed and you made a remarkable dent in the amount of clothing your baby had. The vast amount of clothes are mostly Rhys’s fault, no one alive loves buying clothes more than that male, but your mate was also quite fond of picking up clothes on the rare occasions he left your side.

He loved watching how happy you got, realizing just how much he was thinking of you and the babe while gone.

You decide to go check on Cassian, not having heard much of anything from downstairs since you’ve been in the nursery. You waddle down the stairs, holding the railing for support. You get to the last step, and you see Cassian in your living room, face down, wings splayed out, blood gushing from his head onto your rug.

You yell for him as you run to him, sitting next to him, checking for a pulse. He’s still alive, but he has a considerable amount of blood.

You press on his head wound, trying to cradle his head in your lap to apply pressure to the wound. He’s starting to wake a little, you can feel his hands squeezing on your thighs.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, and a cool metal graces the skin of your neck.

“Here’s the pretty little thing we were looking for.”

When Cassian came to, his head was pounding. He sat up on the floor of your living room, trying to assess the situation. He was mopping the floor of your kitchen when something struck the back of his head.

He never got a good look at the assailant, the blow leaving him stuck on the floor. He was, however, able to crawl into your living room in an effort to reach you.

You.

You had cradled his head, you had come down here.

Cassian bolts up, causing him to go a little dizzy from the blood loss. He gets up, darting up your stairs.

“Sunshine? Are you here?”

He ran into the nursery, checking all the spots you could be hiding in there - the wardrobe, the closet, amongst the bags and boxes littering the floor.

His panic was starting to rise. “Sunshine, are you here? It’s me, Cassian.” The desperation was leaking through his voice, “please be here, it’s okay to come out.”

He combed through your shared bedroom with Azriel, checked every bathroom, Azriel’s study, your spare room, your library, the kitchen.

He combed through his memories, knowing Azriel kept hidden nooks everywhere. When the two of you moved in together, he remembered Azriel made several small pockets in this house so you could hide if anything were to happen.

You came to training, but you were no warrior. You couldn’t hurt anyone, and Azriel knew you’d have a hard time attacking anyone. He knew that Azriel drilled into you if anything were to happen to hide immediately.

The library.

It’s Cassian’s last hope. Of course Azriel had stuck a hidden panic room in the library. Cassian bound into the room, trying to remember what book it was that opened the secret entrance.

Combing the spines, he’s trying to remember. It was green, something that stands out a little, but not too much. Something someone who knew Azriel would know that this is off.

A book of Prythian maps. Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian had all of Prythian memorized, there was no need for it.

He slides the book from its spot, watching the case move, exposing the empty tiny room.

Cassian wasted no time jumping off your balcony, flying like a bat of hell to Rhys and Feyre’s house, screaming mentally, hoping Rhys would pick up on it.

He lands on their balcony, bursting into Rhys’s study, interrupting the intimate moment between them. Feyre was perched on his lap, feeding him grapes, Cassian’s entrance causing her to drop the bowl, the ceramic shattering on the ground, a dozen or so grapes spilling across the floor.

“Cassian!” Feyre yells in shock. She didn’t even know anyone else could burst into Rhys’s office.

Rhys stands up, immediately knowing something was wrong. “Where is she, Cass?”

Cassian points to his head, allowing Rhys to see everything. Your rug he stared at after the blow to his head, hearing your distress, him going in and out, feeling your hands press against his wound, him waking up alone, his frantic search of your house.

Feyre gasps, having also seen all of it.

“Bring Azriel home now.”

Your captors had thrown a bag over your head, not allowing you to see anything as they took you away from your home, away from Cassian bleeding on your rug.

They left Cassian, probably as a message that they could take him down if they wanted, but that he wasn’t who they wanted.

Your only hope is that Cassian wakes up soon enough and alerts Rhys and Feyre about what happened, and they could get into contact with your mate.

You were filled with a mix of emotions, between fear, concern, and anger. Afraid for your life, what your captors will do to you, concern for your unborn baby, and anger for Azriel.

Azriel closes off the bond between you two during missions, a decision you both agreed to. However, the second he is available, he opens it, letting you know how he is. Your biggest hope now is just sending him how you’re feeling, hoping he’ll feel that you’re alive whenever he reopens the connection.

They had picked you up and flown you somewhere, so they’re most likely Illyrian.

They land, not nearly as gracefully as your mate or his brothers, emitting a soft ‘oof’ from your lips.

They carry you for at least ten minutes, through what you assume is decently packed area.

Are you in one of the camps?

You knew relations between Rhys and the Illyrians were bad, but would they really kidnap the spymaster’s mate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you realize they’ve brought you into a building and have set you down in a chair, shackling you to it.

You haven’t spoken a word, barely eliciting a sound, just like your mate would do. You’re not sure if it’s what you should do, but the thought of what he would do holds you together.

You have to be strong, for yourself, for Azriel, for the baby.

They pull the bag off your head, your pupils dilating due to the sudden change in light. Four Illyrian warriors stood before you, 11 siphons glowing throughout the room.

“Hello, beautiful.”

The one who had been carrying you and taken you from your home approached you, caressing your face. You kept a stoic, neutral expression, not letting anything slip.

Just like Azriel would.

Your only response is the eye contact you refuse to break with him.

“That piece of shit struck gold when the cauldron bonded you to him,” practically spitting out the last word.

“Your little shadowsinger won’t stop snooping around our camps, won’t stop telling his precious little high lord everything he sees. They’ve been meddling in the way we deal with our women, the way we govern ourselves. We thought it was time to uh explain to them why they should just stay in their precious little city and leave us alone.”

The second the words left Cassian’s lips, Rhys was trying to reach Azriel telepathically. Within seconds of Cassian’s words, darkness was clouding the room, creating an impenetrable black, the only light shining being several blue siphons glowing with rage.

Cassian recounted the whole thing to the darkness, knowing his brother was somewhere in there. Once he got to the part of the story where you were gone, the room exploded even further, making Azriel’s siphons impossible to see now.

A few shadows whiz by Cassian, he’s assuming to double check you aren’t in their home. The rage Azriel feels is coming off in waves, when he remembers the bond is still closed.

He closes his eyes, sending a silent prayer to the mother. Please, please, please.

The bond opens, your warmth filling his chest. He can feel the initial fear you felt at being taken, but he can also feel your constant reassurance that you and the baby are okay.

Azriel feels his eyes prickle with tears as he chokes out, “they’re alive.” His brothers reach out to hug him or soothe him, but he steps back, his male instincts kicking in.

“I can feel it,” he says, holding a hand up, “the protectiveness is ramping up. I want to kill any male in sight.”

Rhys and Cassian start protesting, telling Azriel they want to come with him, but he stops them again.

“Give me a five minute head start. Then I’ll give you my location.”

Your silence was an interesting strategy, one your captors did not like one bit, their irritation with you growing by the minute.

“Maybe we should rough her up then drop her back on their door step. Pretty loud and clear message, don’t you think?” He circles around your chair, sizing you up like prey.

“We could show her how women are supposed to be treated by us,” one in the corner shouts.

The one circling you spits at your feet before he says, “those half-breed bastards have gone soft, they forget what it means to be Illyrian.”

In a flash he steps forward, his hand slapping you across the face.

Azriel used the bond to find you. He kept tugging, the bond offering him a direction to go. He kept winnowing into the direction of the tug, when he began realizing where the bond was likely taking him. He growled with anger, unable to believe they could be so stupid as to take his mate.

He disappeared into his shadows, sending a few to find out exactly where you were. Once they returned, sans the two that wanted to stay with you, they whisked him away to the room you were being kept in.

The big one who had struck you earlier was mid-strike when the shadowsinger materialized out of the shadows in front of you, his hand catching the brute’s wrist.

“Lay another hand on my mate and your hands will become trophies I hang on the wall.”

You can feel his shadows enveloping you in a soothing wave, checking you head to toe for injuries, but only finding the stinging cheek and the pain from the shackles.

The twirl through your hair, eventually skating over your swollen belly, where they settle and stay.

Your mate’s shadows were very attentive of the baby in your belly, as if your unborn babe were calling to them, too. They reacted to everything the babe did, every kick, every movement, as if telling your babe, “we are here, little master.”

The anger radiating off of Azriel was palpable, but his demeanor was terrifying. A feralness to him you’ve never seen before.

“Whose idea was this?”

Nobody in the room speaks, the assailants just gaping at your mate.

“Speak.”

One of them points to the leader, the one whose wrist was still in Azriel’s hand.

Azriel looks into the male’s eyes, piercing through his soul, as he flicks his arm, breaking the male’s arm.

He screams, shocked at the swiftness of the break. Azriel takes the moment of surprise to pull the first assailant’s head into his knee, bashing his head into his kneecap, throwing him on the ground.

He looks to the next closest one, tilting his head, deciding how he wants to play this. He decides to leave truth-teller sheathed at his side, opting instead to use his bare hands.

“I wanted to savor this, however I don’t want to keep my mate waiting,” he states, coming up to the next closest one and swiftly wrapping his hands around his head, twisting until a sickening crack echoes through the room.

One of them lunges for Azriel, fists raised to fight him. Azriel moves to the side, causing the running assailant to run into the wall behind the shadowsinger. Azriel grabs him by the back of his neck, pulling his arm back, and with all of his force, pushing his head into the wall. Over. And over. And over. His blood splattering the wall, an actual crack in the wall forming from where his head kept hitting it.

He releases his hold, allowing his body to fall to the floor. Azriel turns and looks at the last one, the one that had pointed to whose idea this was, as some of his shadows finally break free from you. “Now,” he says, as they begin pooling at the last captor’s feet, “I’ll deal with you later.”

The shadows at his feet begin pulling the male into the pool of darkness, assumingly to be questioned further about their failed plans.

Azriel undoes the shackles keeping you in place, hoisting you into his arms, the belly making it a bit more difficult.

The second he reopened the bond to find you, he began sending you a constant stream of love down it, trying to convey to you that he was on his way to you.

Being gathered in his arms, the bond was humming a sweet melody, a soft duet that can only be heard when you’re together.

He pulls back, grabbing your face in his hands. “I have never felt fear quite like I did when Rhys made me come back. I knew something was wrong, I was hoping that the babe had just come early.”

He puts his left hand on your belly, the babe inside kicking the exact spot his hand is in. Your mate laughs.

You look at him, seeing the fear and adrenaline in his eyes as he continues, “but when I got back and Cassian said they left him behind and took you, I thought ‘okay, if they’re gone, I have nothing left to live for.’”

“But then, I opened the bond, and I felt you, and I-“ he chokes up a bit, continuing, “I almost started crying. You were alive, and you were okay.”

He pulls your head in, kissing the top of your head several times.

“You’re both okay.”

You reached up, stroking his cheek, “we’re okay.”

He smiles, and you laugh, “I guess this means you’re never leaving my side again, huh?”

He laughs, a tear falling down his face as he does so. “Oh no, sweetheart. You thought I was overbearing before, just wait. You won’t remember what personal space was soon enough.”

You laugh, “at least tell me you aren’t upset with Cassian. He’s a sweet guard dog.”

He smiles at you, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “They ambushed him, I could never be upset with him over that. Now come on, let’s go see my brother before he gives himself a heart attack with worry over you.”

“He is quite fond of me, isn’t he?” You ask, his arm going around you, preparing to embark through the shadows to go back home.

“He told me he prayed every night that we would be mates,” he says, the shadows beginning to engulf the two of you.

“Why?” You ask, wrapping your arms around him.

Azriel looks into your eyes as he says, “he told me he never thought anyone was good enough for me until he met you.”

#azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel angst

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sweatervest-obsessed · 2 months

Text

Touch Me Baby

pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader

wc: 21.7k

cw: mad flirting, swearing, use of the f slur once, shattering glass, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, brief mentions of suicide, mentions of cheating, men being weird and implications of harassment, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, p in v, oral (f recieving), minor praise kink, edging, teasing, multiple orgasms, wrap it before you tap it kids

a/n: set in modern times with phones and everything! i've never written anything this long before, and I really hope you guys like it!!

“You literally look so fucking hot oh my god.”

You rolled your eyes and checked yourself out in the mirror, smirking slightly. “I can feel you objectifying me Birdy.”

Robin rolled her eyes and collapsed on to your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I just think it’s unfair that you aren’t so emotionally and deeply in love with me.”

“Hey.” You peered over your shoulder, “I told you that I’d be your lesbian lover the second you needed one.”

She sighed and sat up on her elbows. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to do me out of pity. I want you to love me.”

You walked over and kissed her head. “ I do love you.”

“Yeah Yeah. As a friend.” She teased as you laughed and moved over to your vanity.

“Just because you’re not my type doesn't mean I don’t think you’re showstoppingly gorgeous.”

“Are you trying to get into my pants Y/l/n?” Robin teased.

“You wish Buckley.”

Robin let out the most over-dramatic sigh and collapsed on your bed again, giggling after a moment.

You laughed at her antics and checked out your makeup, your earrings, and your rings in the mirror next to your door. “Is this cute enough?”

“Did I not just say how hot—”

You and Robin had lived together for about three years now. You had become fast friends freshman year and then roommates for the last three years of your college experience. The apartment you shared was perfect because it had two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the price didn’t rise once in your entire time living in NYC. The best perk of them all was having a home phone. It was reminiscent of your childhood and you both handed out your home phone number to everyone, enjoying the messages you received from anyone and everyone.

It rang and immediately went to voicemail, as Robin had set it on vacation mode the second you moved in meaning every single phone call went directly to voicemail so you could both hear who it was. A man’s voice rang out through your shared apartment.

“Hey it’s Steve, I just landed and I’m on my way to your place, I think it’s only a twenty-minute drive but I wanted to alert the household I was on my way.”

You looked over at Robin, slightly uneasy. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting him.”

Robin shrugged and her smile was a bit brighter. Her two best friends were about to meet, and maybe even hit it off and they could be a friend group—but Robin was getting ahead of herself.

“You’re going to like him. The same level of snark, but definitely a softie under it all. And he’s my best friend, so I wouldn’t be friends with him if he sucked.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just call him your best friend in front of me and say that, I know he’s one of your best friends, which is why I’m worried. What if he thinks I’m a huge bitch or something, or like…I don’t know.”

“He’ll love you.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Well. We have twenty minutes to fix up the house so that he doesn’t think we’re complete and total slobs or anything.”

The two of you spent the next seventeen minutes unfolding your futon couch bed, frantically shoving trash in trash bins, and stuffing the dishwasher with dishes. You definitely weren’t slobs by any means, but sometimes it was easier to leave wine glasses or bottles on the coffee table, or just toss your bra onto the chair since you didn’t want to wear one anymore or…

“Which candle?”

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the extra pillows from your room. “Does it matter?” You yelled back to Robin.

“I don’t know!”

“Well, he’s your home best friend. So whatever you think would suit the straight man you’re friends with.” You walked out and placed the two pillows on the pull-out bed.

“Okay, I’m going with Midnight Citrus because it’s my favorite and he can suck it up.”

“Whatever you say, girl….”

Both of your heads turned when you heard the knock on the door. Robin literally shrieked as she barreled towards the door and you swear you could hear Steve laugh through it.

Robin definitely knocked something over on her way over and you spent the next thirty seconds picking up the bowl and its contents from off the floor.

You had seen pictures of Steve before. There were plenty around the house of the two of them by themselves or with other friends from their hometown, so you knew Steve was an attractive man, but something about seeing him in person was a whole different beast.

And there were no pictures in the apartment to prep you for the fact that he had these thin wire-framed glasses. You could have sworn he sucked the literal breath out of you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Steve smiled that same lopsided smile you had seen on the walls and you probably would have dragged him back to your bedroom right then and there if Robin wasn’t standing right there and staring at you with the most hopeful look on her face you had seen since her breakup during sophomore year.

“It’s uh, it’s so good to finally meet you too. Heard so much about you.” You smiled at him and kept your hands awkwardly in your back pockets.

Steve nodded. “Same here. She actually doesn’t shut up about you.”

“I could say the same thing.”

“Okay, no need to be rude.” Robin huffed and haphazardly tossed Steve’s bags onto the couch.

You and Steve shared a quick look, both of you trying not to laugh.

“Ready to go Stevie boy? I know you just landed but it’s a Friday and I want to go out.”

He nodded. “I remember the text you sent me like last week as a reminder Robs. I just have to change.”

“The bathroom is the second door on the right.” You smiled at him and watched as he grabbed things.

You looked over at Robin. “Where exactly do you want to go out?”

Steve passed by you and you caught a hint of the cologne he had put on this morning. He closed the door and you had to blink a few times. “Sorry, where did you say?”

“I was thinking we could just go to the Cubbyhole…”

“Robin, we are not taking him to Cubbyhole and ruining our reputation there.”

“It’s literally not that big of a deal.”

“Babe, we are not bringing your straight man friend to a lesbian bar.”

“Fine then—”

“And definitely not Henrietta’s either.” You cut her off.

Robin crossed her arms. “ Well, then where do YOU want to take him? Because I’m not going to—”

“Girl, please. It’s like you have no faith in me. Who showed you both of those bars in the first place?”

“Fine then.”

You smiled at your victory and watched as Robin walked over to the little whiteboard you had in the hallway. Robin erased the bottom half of the words but kept the tally up top. “So where are we going tonight?”

“Are you okay with more of a just ‘sitting and drinking’ bar instead of clubbing tonight? Or at least we start at a bar and then move on to clubs?”

Robin’s face twisted, but then she conceded. “Ugh, fine.”

“Why don’t we start at Nothing Really Matters?”

“Which one is that?”

Steve popped out of the bathroom right as Robin asked that question, causing you to stutter a bit in your answer.

Steve was wearing these blue jeans that fit his thighs his ass him so well, and some clearly well-loved white Nike sneakers. But what got you was the shirt combo he was wearing. A tight black tee, covered by a short-sleeved patterned button-up, that was unbuttoned and just tight enough to fuck you up.

Plus, you were sure you saw a silver chain around his neck, which made you wonder what it would look like when if he was above you.

“I-I…um. It’s the one in.” You bit the inside of your cheek and looked back at Robin. “The one in the 50th Street subway station.”

Robin raised her eyebrow at you, but you just shook your head, deciding to ignore what just happened and barrel through.

“A bar in a subway station?”

You smiled over at Steve. “It’s not as gross as it sounds. I swear. It’s one of my favorite little spots that not a lot of people know about so there’s almost always seating and they have really good drinks there too. Besides, it’s in the station so if Robin wants to abandon us for some clubbing then the train is right there.”

He nodded and put his stuff away, while you looked back over at Robin who was making a face at you.

“What?”

She huffed and went into the kitchen.

When you just stared at her, confused, she aggressively made a small wave for you to follow her. You sighed and obliged, managing to walk directly into Steve’s chest because you weren’t paying attention.

“Shit! Sorry.” Your hands were against his chest while he had one of his hands on your waist.

“N-no it’s fine.” He gave you a sheepish smile and quickly pulled his hand off your waist, but your skin was covered in goosebumps from how close you two were.

You quickly hurried into the kitchen where Robin was impatient tapping her foot. “Seriously?”

“W-what?” you smoothed down the front of your top, trying not to look up at her.

“You know what.”

“Birdy I–”

“No, save it. I don’t want to fight. I just want to know why you’re so against going clubbing tonight when that was the original plan.”

If you were to tell Robin the truth, it would be because you weren’t sure you wouldn’t end the night with her best friend in your bed, kissing him like the world was ending, doing things that would have her kicking you out of the apartment and her life.

Or maybe it’s because you want to spend the entire night just talking to Steve and listening to his voice and learning every single thing about him. After all, you were utterly entranced.

“I just, I worked all day, and now that we’re actually going out…I don’t know if I have the energy to go all out.” This wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the full truth. You had worked twelve hours today, and even before Steve had arrived, you had been dreading going out anyway.

Robin’s face twisted a little bit. “It’s Steve's first time visiting me in the city and I wanted to show him around and show him all the places that I get to have fun.”

“And for him to have a friend for when you inevitably win the bartender’s number tonight and go back with her to her place….”

Robin’s cheeks turned bright red and she huffed again. “What–no–okay so maybe a bit but–”

“Look, babe, if you want to go to the Cubbyhole, I am more than supportive of that, it’s just that it’s not what I’m in the mood for. You could always ask Steve to go with you. Or ask him what he wants. And if he’s okay with going out, we can all start at the bar, and then we can split up based on how we are all feeling. Steve literally just got off of a plane not even an hour ago.”

The two of you agreed on a plan and walked back into the living room, where Steve had been shifting his bags around, and had his phone open.

“Are we ready?” He stood up and smiled at the both of you.

You both nodded and smiled at one another. One of you was excited to start the night. And the other was dreading what would happen when Robin inevitably left you alone with her hot best friend from home.

_________________________________________________________________________

The three of you had managed to snag one of the tables up against the wall of the bar. Steve sat on one side, and you sat on the other, with Robin between you. It was the perfect setup for everyone since Robin was in between her two favorite people on the planet, and you got to look at Steve frequently because he was in your direct line of sight.

It was most definitely the alcohol, or maybe it wasn’t, but Steve was getting more attractive by the minute.

“I’ll go get us another round!” Robin excitedly grabbed all three glasses and ran back off to the bar to get more drinks. While you were so grateful that it was going so well, you couldn’t help but Steve was feeling the same way you were.

Were you such a bad friend if you were actually excited for Robin to leave the two of you alone together?

“So how did you meet Robin?”

You blinked a few times before looking over at Steve. It was dimly lit, but you were seated next to the lamp on the wall, so he was bathed in a red glow. He must have been some sort of Greek god or something because no one can look that good in any lighting at all times.

“She didn’t tell you already?”

Steve shook his head, smiling slightly.

You bit your cheek again and smiled. “Okay so. We met in our first year here, and I wanted to beat the shit out of her, oh my god, she like, never shut up. And while I love her for it now, it was causing some strained tensions between the two of us. So we were in the same class and got partnered for a project about Women’s history, specifically, authors who we deemed as important. And so I offered up Toni Morrison, who is probably my favorite author of all time, and Miss Indiana over there told me that her books were mediocre at best and wanted to do a project about Virginia Woolf. Then I called her gay, and she freaked out. Not in the aggressive way you’re thinking, but simply because I knew she was a queer woman, and it freaked her out that someone could tell. Like only a gay woman picks Virginia Woolf.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit, and you could tell he was unsure about the path this story was taking, but you continued on.

“She ended up letting me win the argument and we put together the most beautiful slideshow on god’s green earth. I mean, seriously to this day, I think about the transitions. A good PowerPoint can make or break a class—anyway. After that, Robin didn’t speak to me for the rest of the week.”

“Which is valid because I thought she was going to fucking hate crime me since my experience with people knowing I’m gay is either Steve or getting called a fag so…” Robin placed the drinks down in front of the respective people and sat down on her stool.

“Until…” You took a sip of your drink, cutting her off so you could finish the story.”We attended the same party that Friday night at Vickie’s house—I’m assuming you know all about Vickie and the mess that was—anyway. We were at Vickie's place and I went into the kitchen where some girls were making fun of Birdy and calling her some really awful shit because she was from Cowland, and so I called them all a bunch of cunts and then defended my homegirl because women support women, especially queer women. Then she kissed me, and—she’s actually not that bad of a kisser if I’m being so honest with you—and then we’ve been best friends since.”

“I’m a phenomenal kisser, excuse you.”

You smiled and nudged her with your elbow. “Sure thing Birdie. You’re nowhere near the bottom of my list though. I think Malcolm is—remember him?”

Robin burst into laughter. Steve looked between the two of you, extremely confused by the entire situation—it was written all over his face.

“He used to—” You couldn’t breathe because of how hard you were laughing. The sentence was virtually unfinishable. “He-He would…” You tried to take a few breaths. “He would, uh, spray cologne in his mouth instead of using a mint because he thought that’s what it was for—”

You and Robin collapsed against one another, back into your fits of laughter. This had Steve cracking up, not just at the fact that this man was stupid, but because you and Robin’s laughs were contagious.

“She didn’t figure it out until the fourth date.” Robin blurts out, causing you to wipe away the tears in your eyes and shove her slightly.

“Shut UP. I only kissed him like twice before then and it was just pecks.”

You caught a glance of Steve out of the corner of your eye, and he was looking right at you. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment and the two of you stopped time for a moment. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirked up into a smile before he broke eye contact and looked back at Robin.

“Wood in the mouth takes a whole new meaning—”

“Oh please. Don’t even start with that—”

“I’m just saying your choices in partners–”

“At least I didn’t date a married woman–”

“WHAT.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Steve. “She didn’t tell you?”

Robin started hitting your arm. “No. I. did. Not!”

You laughed and used one of your hands to shove hers away from you. “It was like a three-month relationship but she realized–”

Robin shifted tactics and clamped a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t finish the sentence. After a moment she made a gagging sound and quickly pulled her hand away. “Did you just fucking lick my hand?”

You winked at her and looked back at Steve. “She knew this woman’s wife too. A month into dating Robs found out. Rough semester.”

“Oh my god. Robin. Who are you? What else have you done that I don’t know about?”

“That’s it. If you’re going to tell him all of my wrongdoings, I’m out.” Robin downed her drink and stood up. She kissed your cheek and grabbed her purse off of the chair she was sitting on.

“Remember to wear protection there kid.”

She rolled her eyes at you and turned towards Steve. “I know I—”

“Robs, seriously, it’s okay. Go have fun. I have been traveling all day. And I don’t mind talking to Y/n—”

“Unlike someone here, I’m not going to abandon you, Steve, don’t worry.”

Steve’s hand rested over his heart. “You’re too kind.”

Robin scoffed but was smiling the whole time. “Don’t wait up. Mom, Dad, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, she left you and Steve sitting in the bar.

“So Steve, what else do you want to know about our girl??”

The two of you spent the next three hours sitting at the bar, ordering drink after drink. Eventually, you and Steve were knee to knee, your head on his shoulder when you laughed too hard, trading stories about Robin. Nice didn’t even begin to describe the way his cologne smells when you would rest your head on his shoulder, giggling about something he said. Or the way his hand felt when it rested on your thigh as the two of you talked and talked and talked.

Or when the two of you couldn’t stop giggling on the subway as you told him about the time Robin threw up on someone on the subway after you both had been drinking all day during last year’s Saint Patrick’s Day.

Or when you stumbled slightly on the street, clinging to Steve as he clung to you. Enjoying the sound of his voice as he whispered things into your ear.

Or as your back was up against the wall next to your door, you watched Steve’s hands use the key and unlock your door, except both of you forgot the fact that the bolt was also locked, meaning Steve slammed his face right into the door since it wasn’t moving. You clamped your hand over your mouth, dying of laughter, watching as Steve tried not to laugh at the door himself, instead smiling brightly at you, with his head against the door.

Or when you both stood in the hallway of your apartment, neither one of you wanting the night to end, toeing the line. Eyes pretending they weren’t staring at lips. Hands fluttering around, almost grabbing one another. An inch away from more than just friends.

______________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, you awoke to an empty apartment and a text from Robin saying that the two of them decided to “hit the town”.

You took your time. Decidedly talking yourself out of everything that had happened last night, especially when Robin had left you and Steve alone. It was dumb of you to even think about potentially betraying Robin’s trust like that. She didn’t bring Steve here to add him to your collection of failed lovers—and even if she did, you had a sinking feeling that Robin would choose Steve.

It’s not to say that she didn’t love you, adore you, and wish nothing but the best for you, but you wish to never even put her in that position.

So instead, you decided to take your mind off of everything by spending the afternoon in one of your favorite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shops that was only a few minutes walk away from your place.

You had managed to snag your favorite seat: a comfortable chair next to the window, and a plug. The plug was the best part since it meant you rarely had to get up and could just charge your devices without having to leave the spot you were in for potentially hours. And today was one of those days. The collection of mugs on the table grew as the hours of the day went on. By the time hour four had rolled around, there were about five mugs and two plates.

That’s when the world did that thing again, when it decided to start ruining your day. First, your laptop was overheating more than usual, which was just plain irritating. Then, they had run out of the panini you were going to get for lunch. The final straw, however, was when one of your exes came waltzing up to the table.

“Y/n, it’s been so long. How are ya?”

You tried not to let a full resting bitch face take over, but to any observer, you were not happy to see the man in front of you. “Malcolm. Hey. I’m good.”

“I’m doing great too. Mind if I sit? I just can’t believe I ran into you here.”

Your breath hitched and that little voice in your head screamed panic!

“Um—actually, well, I come here all the time and you know that…Second, this seat's taken.”

“Well I’ve been here for about five minutes now and no one has taken that seat–”

“You’ve been watching me for five minutes? That’s fucking creepy Malcolm.” You tapped your finger against your keyboard nervously, eyes darting around, hoping someone would catch on to how uncomfortable this was for you.

“Please. That chair isn’t for anyone now is it?”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

It’s still unsure if you audibly let out a sigh of relief seeing Steve approach the table, and take the seat next to you.

Malcolm crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Look bud, I don’t know if you’re trying to play the hero card here by swooping in to try and save some damsel in distress you don’t know just to get her number, but you can right fuck off.”

Steve turned and looked at you. “Is he bugging you, Y/n? Because I’ll fucking kick his ass…”

You smiled and placed your hand on top of Steve’s thigh under the table, where Malcolm couldn’t see. You gave it a squeeze, hoping to god he understood how grateful you were at the moment for him. “Steve, this is Malcolm…you remember…from the other night.”

“Shut the fuck up—this is cologne guy?”

You nodded. Throughout the rollercoaster of being approached by an ex who was kind of threatening you, inside your favorite coffee shop, while you were alone, your heart rate shot up. Your heart was pounding. But when Steve put his hand on top of yours, you thought your heart rate would skyrocket.

And then the weirdest thing happened, it didn’t. Steve started rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, and your heart rate went down. If this was on purpose, you might never know, but this simple gesture from someone you have known for mere hours had your breathing even out and your heart rate slide back down to within reason.

Wasn’t it written somewhere that love makes your heart beat out of your chest?

That love makes your soul bleed and your eyes weep. Love is supposed to make you crazy and worship the other person till the ends of the earth. It’s supposed to be overwhelming and make you feel like you could burst just from how much love you hold within yourself. It was a disease, unable to be cured—a madness. It’s all-consuming, unforgiving, a fire that cannot be tamed. Something you willingly killed yourself for. Ended it all because the idea of losing it was a fate worse than death

What you’re feeling couldn’t be love then. That��s what you had decided. You weren’t going batshit crazy over the idea of risking your life for him or losing your mind over the thought that he might not love you back. It was just a plain and simple joy: sitting next to him, his hands on yours.

Your heartbeat had found its way back to normal, and your mind began to refocus on the confrontation in front of you.

By the time your vision refocused after the thirty seconds you managed to blackout, Malcolm was glaring at Steve but starting to walk away. Whatever Steve said, worked, and you looked over at him, confused. " I think I must have blacked out or something because how the hell did you get him to..."

Steve shrugged. "If you missed it, you missed it."

"You're joking right?"

Steve shrugged and smiled. His hand was still on yours, but you completely forgot about it—

"What are you working on?"

—Til now.

You begrudgingly took your hand away from his and brought it up to the keyboard of your laptop, clicking it awake so he could see what you had been working on. The two of you spent the next hour sitting and talking about your courses, which were all a bunch of nonsense anyway since you were a second-semester senior with barely anything to do.

"You're taking a metal-welding class for credit?"

You smirked and nodded. "When I tell you college is a joke, I truly mean it. I kind of love it though. Robin, however, dislikes being outlesbianed by someone who is not a lesbian. But I think I'm getting pretty good at it too."

_____________________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, you and Steve found yourselves as the last two in the coffee shop, still talking about anything and everything you possibly could—wherever the conversation led you.

When it was time to get kicked out, Steve helped pack up your things, and you both started the short walk back to the apartment where you ended up raiding the "delinquent Cabinet" as it had been affectionately named and properly labeled.

By the time Robin got home from her shift, you and Steve had demolished a joint, several shooters, half a bottle of prosecco, and half a bottle of vodka. The conversation had never stopped, with the two of you always finding some way to stay touching to one another. You couldn't deny that the feeling of Steve calmed you down immensely, and the courage you were feeling from the past few hours helped with the want to have your hands on him.

But when Robin walked into your apartment, you and Steve sobered up a tiny bit, deciding to leave some space between you both. You missed the way his hand felt on your calf, absentmindedly massaging it as the two of you talked about the difference between weed from Indiana and weed from a major city.

“Hey you two…”

“Birdy!” You exclaimed. Your eyes were fading away from the red of smoking, but your smile was lazy and your body felt heavy, but not in a bad way.

“Ah, I see we broke into your stash?”

You smirked slightly, and nodded. “Well if Mr. Harrington is going to smoke good weed, no offense to your friend back home, then he needs the best.”

“Eddie sells good weed.” Steve defended his friend from home but it just made you giggle.

“Steve, that joint you gave me tasted like the equivalent of watered down vodka. It’s good, but it’s not the best. You can’t deny that mine was waaaaayyyyyyy better. Besides, it came from a pretty girl so it’s automatically better than Eddie’s.”

Steve’s cheeks blushed slightly as he looked over at Robin. “How was work?”

Robin’s eyes shifted between the two of you on the couch, but then settled on Steve. “How much did she have?”

“Don’t wanna know Birdy!” Your voice sang out across the room.

Steve shrugged. “Work?”

She huffed and hung up her coat, admitting defeat on getting information out of a crossed-you. Robin kicked off her shoes and grabbed one of the bottles off of the counter–the one that was still half full–and joined the two of you on the couch. Robin managed to fit herself perfectly between you and Steve, causing you to frown slightly, but say nothing.

“I almost punched an old lady but nothing new.” Robin took a long swing from the bottle of wine.

“Was it that cunt Mrs. Defejeki?”

“Woah, language.”

“What are you five?” You rolled your eyes at Steve’s comment and picked up the remainder of the joint out of the ashtray, trading the weed for the rest of the bottle of wine. You and Robin shared basically everything. There were always a few exceptions, but still. If you started a bowl, Robin would finish it. If Robin did a shot, you did a shot. And while you were both built differently, the mix of shit the two of you ingested managed to get the both of you to about the same place.

Robin just relit the joint in her mouth, nodding at you. “You’d think she’d go somewhere else to buy eggs if she always has something fucking stupid to say about our eggs. Ma’am, no offense, but you’re in a fucking city. If you want fresh eggs, get a friend with a coop on a roof or some weird shit.” She took a long drag, eyes rolling back and her eyelids closing.

You nodded. “Or just…leave the fucking city.”

This caused both you and Robin to burst into a fit of giggles, causing the latter to cough a little bit since she was still inhaling.

You felt Steve’s eyes on you the whole time, but it only made you warm and fuzzy inside…or maybe that the combination of shit you put in your body. But either way, his eyes were gorgeous. You couldn’t help looking back at him, trying to locate every single color that reflected off of his eyes in the dim lighting. It didn’t help that his eyes were redder than yours, but he was still just as stunning to you.

Robin leaned in front of you, blocking your view of the gorgeous specimen across from you on the couch, and placed the filter back in the ashtray. “Now what kiddos.” She placed a hand on your thigh and looked over at you, a smile on her face.

“Did you wanna go out? Because I’m a little decapitated at the moment.”

This caused Steve and Robin to burst at the seams. You furrowed your eyebrows as Steve and Robin kept laughing at you. Everytime they managed to calm down a bit, they would look at one another and burst out laughing again.

“What!” You grumbled, shoving your foot against Robin’s thigh, trying to get her to pay attention to you again. “Whattttttt.”

“It’s—” She giggled. “Not decapitated–HA–Incapt—” She couldn’t speak, she giggled so much. “Fucxk Steve.” She heaved out. “How the fuck do you say it?”

Steve, who was not much better than Robin at the moment, was wiping literal tears from his eyes.

“Incoorperat—fuck—wait.” He giggled again, and you were sure a flame just washed over your body, leaving you with goosebumps. “In—Cah—Pass–ih–tay–ted.”

He slowly sounded out the word like he was in the middle of an eighth grade spelling bee.

You slapped Robin's arm. “I literally said that!!”

Robin and Steve burst into another fit of laughter.

The group of you continued to giggle, and talk over one another. All of you filled to the brim with smiles and laughter and stories to tell.

At some point you had changed into your pajamas, most likely when Robin had decided to call her night and go to bed. You, on the other hand, had changed into your pajamas, and gone back out into the kitchen to clean up the mess you had made during the night’s festivities. Steve, who was still awake, offered to help you, like the gentlemen you were learning he was.

The two of you cleaned the kitchen, talking about your childhoods, comparing the worlds you grew up in–their likeness, their differences.

And somehow 11 pm turned into Midnight. And then Midnight became 2 am. And then 2 am had become 6 in the morning.

You had spent the entire night, sitting on your couch, talking to Steve Harrington.

Since it was early enough in the morning, you invited Steve to come and sit on the fire escape with you, and watch the sunrise.

It really sucked visually when there was no sun to watch rise since the sky was overcast and gray, but that didn’t stop you from enjoying Steve’s company.

The two of you sat in silence with one another. You and Robin had always joked about how much you hated domesticity, the thought of just existing with someone else for the rest of your life was definitely a thought that scared you. Especially doing things as simple as laundry or the dishes, eating your meals together, or sitting on the fire escape and watching the sunrise together. But this moment, with Steve, made your heart ache. You never wanted this moment to end. It was a new drug you didn’t know you needed. And now that you had it, how were you supposed to give it up?

“I really appreciated last night–tonight—the past several hours.”

You looked away from the street, and over at Steve. “I-...I really enjoyed it too.”

He smiled softly at you, and you have no idea what came over you, maybe it was bravery. But you reached over and brushed some of the hair in his face, behind his ear. It was intimate, maybe too intimate for people who were supposed to be friends by proxy of Robin Buckley and nothing else.

You could feel Steve’s breath hitch and for a singular moment you regretted everything. You regretted staring at him in the bar. You regretted getting coffee with him. You regretted telling him about your thesis. You regretted sitting next to him during your movie night. You regretted the movie night. You regretted staying up and talking to him for hours on end, wasting away the night until he knew almost every single thing about you. You regretted suggesting coffee on your fire escape when you realized it was six in the morning. You regretted brushing his hair out of the way.

But most importantly, you regretted not putting your coffee cup down when you did because the hot liquid spilled all over your lap when you quickly retracted your hand and stood up.

“Shit–Fuck. Sorry.” You watched as the liquid covered your bare legs and as the mug clattered across the fire escape, and off the edge, shattering on the ground below.

“Shit–are you okay?”

You were shaking your head. The coffee was fucking hot, that was for sure. And that was at least your excuse for the tears that sprang to your eyes. Especially since you really liked that mug too. Steve put his mug down and crawled through your window. “Where are your towels??”

Your hands covered your face as you vaguely mumbled something adjacent to ‘the closet’. Steve had no idea which closet you meant, so he grabbed the dish rag hanging off of the stovetop and made his way back across the living room and through the window.

“Are you okay?” He handed you the towel and you wiped off the burning hot liquid. Luckily, you barely had enough coffee to kill you, so your legs were just a bit red from the quick extreme change in temperature.

Robin, who had heard the commotion ran out of her room in a tired stupor and looked around, panicking. “Is everything okay?”

Steve looked back into the apartment at Robin. “She–uh, she spilled her coffee and the mug went over the railing and she’s not burnt or anything but—yeah.”

Robin furrowed her brows and made her way over to the window. “Sweetheart, why are you up this early? It’s not even seven am.”

You shook your head, and that’s when the thunder started. You aggressively sighed and made your way back through the window into the apartment, following Steve who had done just that moments prior.

“I'm going to go take a shower.” You quickly made your way to your room before Steve or Robin could say anything.

You grabbed your lotion and a hair towel from your closet, alongside your robe, and headed into the bathroom. Once you closed and locked the door, you looked down at your legs. The red was starting to fade away, thank God, and there was no sign of bubbling so at least your embarrassing blunder wasn’t going to give you physical injury—only emotional.

Steve and Robin’s hushed whispers carried down the hall but you had no idea what the two of them were talking about, only that it was probably about you. You decided to ignore it and splash some water on your face.

God, how fucking embarrassing was that? You weren’t one to get flustered by men, or women, or really anyone, but this? What the fuck was that? Spilling hot coffee all over your lap?

And Steve had sprung right into action, could he be any more perfect? My god you were fucked.

It was at that moment that you realized you left your phone on the kitchen counter. It’s not that you couldn’t shower without music, but you preferred not to. So now you have to contemplate the dilemma of going out and facing your best friend and her best friend who were definitely talking about you, while you were only in a robe, or do you just suffer in silence.

When you heard the front door slam shut, you had your answer. Assuming that both of them had decided to go out to breakfast and give you some space, you shoved your clothes into the hamper in the closet in the bathroom and opened the door.

And there was Steve, with his hand up, as if he was about to knock. “Hey—sorry.”

“Oh–” You took a step back, and only looked at his face for a moment, a little too embarrassed to really make eye contact with him.

“Sorry, it’s just—I–uh, Robin went to get us some breakfast from this place…She wanted me to let you know, and you had been in there a while without the water running so I–uh–wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

You looked up at him and almost swooned at the sincerity in his eyes. Could this man be any more perfect? Did he want to talk to you? You had only been in the bathroom for like, five minutes without turning on the water?

“I’m fine Steve, thank you for asking. I wanted to…um…apologize for earlier when I–”

Steve shook his head. ��You don’t have to apologize, seriously–”

“No I so do, I literally made a move on my best friend’s best friend, and almost completely unwarranted too–”

You were cut off by the feeling of Steve’s lips on yours.

It was like heaven was on earth, and every single one of those thoughts came back to your mind. Steve’s lips—having coffee in the mornings with him. His eyes—getting dressed up and going out to lunch and running errands with him. His smile—making dinner with him and doing the dishes afterward. His hair—the sight of his head between your legs—

He pulled away the second he realized you weren’t kissing back and started to follow down the same path of panic you had just been on. “Shit—I read that so wrong–fuck, I didn’t—”

You pulled yourself out of whatever stupor you were in, grabbed Steve Harrington by the back of his neck and shoved his face into yours—lips crashing against the others. His hand flew around your waist and pulled you up against his body.

He tasted like mint chapstick, something you weren’t sure you were expecting, but it just added to how attractive he was.

Steve slowly walked you backwards, until the back of your thighs hit the counter. Steve all but picked you up while you hopped backward onto the counter. He was once again your knight in shining armor when he held you in place, saving you from toppling over into the sink. You laughed against his lips, causing him to smile and pull away for a moment. “You’re clumsy aren’t you.”

You watched as his chest rose and fell, just as quickly as yours. You pulled him into another first kiss, wanting to feel his lips again. “You have no idea.” You mumbled, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Steve moved his lips away, starting to kiss up your jaw, preening at every little gasp and inhale and sound you made. He squeezed your hips and moved your waist slightly, giving you the hint you needed to start grinding on him. His teeth grazed your ear and you let out a moan, rolling your body up against his.

Steve let out a breath against your neck making your skin break out into goosebumps. Your right hand was clutching the kitchen countertop, while your left hand had made its way up his chest and on the back of his neck. Your fingers wove into his hair, yanking on it slightly as he continued to kiss lightly down your neck.

Something you never thought would happen today was hearing Steve Harrington moan. It was one of the hottest sounds you had ever heard in your life, causing you to pull on his hair again just so you could hear it again.

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me here.” He groaned against your neck and pulled you directly against him.

“So do something about it.” You sighed out gripping the counter tightly.

You felt him smirk against your skin and pull away from you, much to your dismay, which you made known by your groan. "Steve please."

"Say it again Princess."

Your eyes met his as you bit your lips. "Please."

A wave of something came over your entire body at the look Steve gave you when spoke.

"Anything you want, pretty girl."

Something else you had never thought would happen today was the sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you on your bathroom floor between your legs.

You had basically prepped for this moment since you were completely naked under the robe you were wearing, but the thought of a shower was now far from your mind. Steve kissed your thigh, causing you to suck in a breath, and grip the countertop impossibly harder.

He slowly kissed up your thigh, moving your legs so that they were over his shoulders.

You moaned out his name, causing him to falter for only a moment. He groaned against your skin and squeezed your thigh with his hand. “Fuck me gorgeous.”

You licked your lips, unable to lift your head from the way it was resting on the mirror.

"Sweetheart, eyes on me."

You moaned and inhaled, looking down at the man between your legs. His eyes were already on yours, as he slid both of his hands up, pulling you directly against his mouth.

The feeling of his lips against your cunt made you let out the most strangled sound, trying your best to contain anything above a whisper.

You could have cummed at the way he was looking at you, but just rocked your hips against his mouth, hoping for a bit more of the feeling of him.

“Come on pretty girl.” He licked up your cunt, causing your body to involuntarily jolt a little bit. “I know you can make prettier sounds than that. I wanna hear them. I want the neighbors to know who’s fucking you like this–”

There was a knock on the front door, slightly frantic, but not panicked.

“Hey, guys? I accidentally locked the door, can you come get it for me?”

You let out a little gasp, your breath stuttering as you teetered on the edge of the counter and on an orgasm. Steve pulled away and kissed your thigh quickly. You leaned your head back against the mirror and just gripped the counter, coming to terms with the fact that your best friend just cock blocked you, and that Steve was no longer between your legs, eating you out like a starved man.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He cooed, standing up and kissing you quickly. “I know I know.”

You whined when he pulled away, the taste of you on his lips was not one that either of you would forget for at least the rest of the day, probably your lives.

“I’m gonna turn on the shower and then go let her in—.”

Your phone pinged with a text from Robin as Steve turned the shower on for you. You squeezed your legs together, trying to get any sort of release from the pent-up orgasm just sitting in your gut.

“You wouldn’t do anything without me, pretty girl, would you.”

“I could hurt you, Steve Harrington.” You muttered but nodded to his statement.

He smirked slightly but then closed the door behind him and you heard him make his way to the door, to let Robin into the apartment.

It wasn’t even 8 am and you hadn’t slept and the day was getting longer by the minute.

_____________________________________________________________________

After that morning, you had somehow managed to miss Steve at every turn, causing your frustration to build throughout the day, especially since he was leaving the next night.

And then, because of your classes, you managed to not see Steve at all for the rest of the trip, except for the few minutes where the two of you crossed paths, with Robin.

The last time you were face to face with Steve Harrington alone for more than a few seconds was when he was tongue-fucking you on your bathroom counter. And it was pissing you off.

But one day, a few days after Steve had flown home, your phone pinged. And when you saw that one Steve Harrington had started following you on instagram, you followed him back embarrassingly fast.

The only thing that was more embarrassing then that was how quickly he dmed you after.

And suddenly you were attached to your phone: Constantly checking it to see if he texted you, smiling at your screen whenever his photo popped up, giggling at his cheesy jokes out loud. Your demeanor had completely changed. Instead of the consistent snark and attitude, you had a more pleasant and approachable demeanor. You would wake up early in the mornings and make breakfast for Robin before she was even out of bed. At the clubs, you would dance and drink with people, but never danced with them for more than one song, and didn’t take anyone home either. Sometimes you would even opt to sit there on your phone, texting Steve.

But after three weeks of being on the outside of whoever was making you feel this way, Robin had enough. She was going to find out who this mystery person was, and how the hell they managed to make you act like this.

“Who the fuck have you been texting?”

You looked up from your phone, immediately clicking it off. “What are you talking about?”

Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve been on your phone nonstop for the past two weeks, smiling at it like some sort of lovestruck idiot, so who is it? Who are you smitten for?”

“Pshh–I’m not—I think you’re losing it, or something.”

“Is it a girl?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“So what’s his name then huh?”

You looked away from her, staying silent.

“You can’t pretend like you haven’t been smiling at your phone, or that you haven’t been drifting off into space…You’re literally doing it right now?”

You blinked the images of Steve out of your mind and shook your head.

“You’re delusional—” Just as you looked over at Robin, she was on top of you, having launched herself across the room in an attempt to get your phone from your hands. Unfortunately, Robin launched herself at you with such force that the two of you toppled over and she managed to grab your phone, snatching it from your hands.

Right before she could slither out of your grasp, you grabbed her ankle and yanked her back towards your body. “Robin give me my PHONE.”

This was an unfortunate situation for many reasons. The first was that Robin escaped your grasp and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The second was that your phone unlocked with her face so it was relatively easy for her to snoop. The third reason happened so painfully slowly. You heard her laughter die off and silence take over. She had discovered who you had been texting.

And you just stood across from the bathroom door, leaning against the wall and bouncing your leg, eyes wide, heart beating loudly, as you could feel Robin looking through everything you had been saying to Steve.

She had been your best friend for years so she knew how you texted when you flirted, and to make matters worse, she knew how her other best friend texted when he was flirting too.

Suddenly the door opened quickly and Robin handed you your phone back.

“Birdy—”

She shook her head. “I’m going to go for a walk.” Her voice shook a little bit and all you could do was stand there, knowing better than to try and prod her. “I’m not—I just need to think and then we can talk about it.” She muttered.

You watched as Robin grabbed her coat, her purse, and her airpods before you watched the door slam shut.

The next thirty-seven minutes were filled with silence and a lot of panic cleaning. Suddenly your bed had new sheets in it, you had taken out the trash, the dishes had been done, you swept the kitchen—and even lit that midnight citrus candle Robin loved so much.

Ever since becoming friends, you and Robin simply didn’t fight. The two of you got along so well that it felt like you were made for each other sometimes. But right now? Now was not one of those times. Instead, you paced around in literal circles because the guilt of non stop texting Steve was eating you alive.

But it’s not like you did anything wrong either. The two of you had only been texting and nothing more. Sure it was almost every second you possibly could and he did take up all available space in your head, especially since the two of you never got around to round two of your bathroom scene—let alone finishing the first session.

You were not dating Steve Harrington. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t do anything else without Robin’s knowledge and consent of the issue in the first place.

You looked up when the door closed, making eye contact with your girl. In her hand, she had a brown paper bag and a drink carrier carrying her favorite drink in it, alongside yours. You smiled at her, hesitantly because she really could have thrown the drink in your face and you would have accepted it. But instead, Robin gestured towards the balcony and you nodded, grabbing some napkins and opening the window so she could step out onto the fire escape.

Once you both were through, you each sat in your respective spots, delegating the drinks and the pastries she had picked up on her way home from whatever path she had taken herself on. The two of you did this in complete silence. At first, it was nerve-wracking, but the peaceful knowledge of the fact that you both could move in sync with one another felt good.

You both sat and watched the people pass by, taking sips of your drinks, and taking small bites out of each of the pastries. You weren’t going to speak first—that much was obvious.

After a moment, Robin sighed and looked at you. “You like him a lot.”

Not a question, just a fact.

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Hmm.” Robin’s mouth twisted, but not into anything malicious. She looked down at her hands. “I wish you told me you liked him sooner, because he clearly—uh, he clearly likes you back.”

Your cheeks tinged with pink, and your hands rubbed at your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that there was a blush on your face.

“I wasn’t going to do anything about it unless I talked to you first Birdy—”

“I know.”

“And neither was he—”

“I know.”

“And honestly Robin, I really do like him, and I was pretty sure he liked me back. I mean we spent an entire night out here talking and talking—I’ve never talked to anyone this much in my entire life. And he thinks I’m funny and actually answers my texts and I—I just….”

“I know.”

You looked over at her. Your mind swimming with thoughts of Steve and Robin. It was bringing you to the verge of tears since no matter how big a crush on someone was, you would never let it come between you and Robin’s friendship.

Robin took your hand in hers and shook her head. “It’s okay. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Yeah–I mean. I had to think about it and at first, I was really mad, like pissed, because I thought you two had been seeing each other behind my back—which obviously I know you weren’t—and then I realized how fucking smitten you’ve been since he was here. I mean your attention was basically in Indiana.” The two giggled a little bit, a tear breaking free from your eye as Robin continued. “But you weren’t. You were still my best friend and you didn’t even do anything because you cared about me? And I’m not exactly thrilled that Dingus has won your heart over me, but I also wouldn’t not recommend him, if that makes any sense.”

You nodded. “Birdy I–”

She squeezed your hand. “Really. It’s okay. I’m honestly just mad about the fact that he’s answering your texts. He’s the fucking worst at texting everyone else so it must mean he really likes you. I’m extremely jealous…”

You laughed again, just enjoying Robin’s goodness.

“Besides, I feel like it gives me the upper hand for a question I’ve been wanting to ask. Wanna go to Cowland with me in a few weeks? The kids have been dying to meet you and they’re graduating from high school and I was going to go back anyways but since I know you probably want to see Steve again–”

“Robin. I’ve been bugging you to take me to Cowland for literal years. I’d be so down to go, not just because Harrington is there.”

The two of you shared a hug, arms wrapped lovingly around the other, squeezing almost all the air out of each other’s lungs.

_____________________________________________________________________

Finally, the semester had ended, and it was time for Robin to go home and visit her kids. You and Robin had both walked across the stage, receiving your diplomas in your respective fields, both of you with Magna Cum Laude cords around your necks, plus a few others. Steve couldn’t make it up to the city that weekend, which was a little upsetting to Robin at first, but all was understood.

The two of you had signed a lease for another two years, deciding that you both wanted to stay in New York City, and you both wanted to live with each other. This was really exciting for both of you, but was causing a serious amount of guilt for your best friend.

"Robin, it's not bad news. I know I'm biased, but it's incredible news that you have a job, and you have a place to live. and Yes—-don't cut me off—Yes, it's sad because it's officially going to be your permanent home, but that's, like, that's what growing up is."

"When the fuck did you get so...so....wise?"

You shrugged and looked over at her with a smile.

Since Robin didn't have a license, the two of you patiently waited at the airport for Steve to arrive. He had no idea you were suddenly in the great state of Indiana. You had never been before, and Robin had told you not to get your hopes up—but part of you was excited to see where your best friend grew up, where she was before this chapter of your lives.

You hadn't told Steve that you were in state, at the request of Robin, since she had some sort of plan in her mind. You knew that the first step was gauging Steve's reaction to seeing you at the airport with her, which made no sense to you, but you kept your mouth shut since this was her home turf.

A maroon BMW pulled up in front of the two of you, and you could say you were surprised by Steve's car of choice, but you would be lying. It's not that he read as a rich person, but Robin had one time told you his parents were loaded and you had laughed her off. Seeing how nice this car was, you wish you could take it back.

Steve pulled up to the two of you and rolled the window down. "Do you actually need help with the luggage or can you—" The second he saw you, he lost track of his sentence. Eyes roaming over your face, your body. Why did it feel good to be looked at like that?

"You're here."

You gave him a nervous smile. "That is true, yes."

The corner of Steve's mouth tugged up into a smile, and the two of you continued to look at one another, enjoying the fact that you were finally in each other's company again for the first time in over a month.

Robin snapped a finger in front of your face. "Good grief you two, let's get moving. I'm not standing out here in the sun all day because we stunned Steve into silence with your presence—-and to be fair, if you surprised me, I would be shocked into silence too by how excited I would be— pop the trunk Steven— to see you, but this is not the time. I want to get on the road as quickly as possible."

Steve snapped out of the trance between you both and popped the trunk of the car. He quickly got out of the car and moved around it to grab the luggage from you, and Robin, to put into the trunk.

"You suck ass, Harrington. You'll get out of the car for her, but was gonna make me put my bags in the back myself."

Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, almost like an exasperated mother. "Robs, seriously. You know I would have gotten out to help you."

"I'm sure you would have Steve. I'm sure."

"You're not even in Hawkins and you're being a pain in my ass."

The two of them continued to squabble, making their way into the front of the car while you slid into the back. It was the sort of friendly banter that you could get used to.

And you did because, after about ten minutes into the drive, you had completely zoned out and watched as the roads turned into fields. You had never seen such flat land before, it was... bizarre. The world felt like it was supposed to have things reaching towards the sky—trees, skyscrapers, mountains—but not here. It was tall grass and nothingness. But it wasn't a bad feeling, just different—something almost serene about the vastness of it all.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to be grounded, but you couldn't speak to that since you had literally run away to the city to live in the sky and aim for the stars.

Your introspection about the human condition of reaching for the stars was interrupted by Robin.

"Right Y/n?"

"Mhm."

"Were you even listening?" Steve huffed.

"To be so honest, I have no fucking idea what you said birdy. Not one clue."

Robin groaned and turned around in her seat to look at you. "How long have you been tuned out; I don't know how much of this I can restate."

"Basically since we left the city."

Robin groaned again: way louder, and with a lot more dramatics. "I'm not explaining this again. You agreed with me regardless, so it's the truth."

Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror and smiled at you. It was one of those smiles that could make a girl trip over her own feet, and it was directed at you, making your insides melt. Steve had clearly been out in the sun since he was a little tanner than you last remember, and he had a small swatch of freckles across his nose and cheeks. It was adorable.

"Oh! Oh! We're almost there!" Robin exclaimed, and you broke your eyes away from Steve's to look at the old sign she was pointing to.

Hawkins - 5 Miles

"Five minutes til you enter a literal hellscape."

Robin swatted Steve's arm and smiled back at you. "It's not that bad I swear. Like sure, it's a bit of a Cowland, that much is true, but—-"

"You don't have to justify Cowland to me Birdy. The only thing you have to justify is the fact that we have been on the road for almost an hour and I have yet to see a single cow. Now that's just ridiculous."

Robin smiled at you and turned back around, facing the front again. She reached over and snatched Steve's phone (something you realized was a habit with everyone) and opened his Spotify, scrolling until she found the right song. She cranked the volume up and rolled the windows down, screaming along the words to Everybody Wants to Rule the World. How fitting.

You rolled your window down and enjoyed the feeling of the wind on your face. While you had never been to Indiana before, or most of the middle of the country, something you definitely loved was how fresh the air was. No buildings or mass amounts of cars were polluting the air—just the grass and trees.

Steve looked in the rearview mirror at you again, and you looked up, feeling his gaze on you. You could see the glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. The pure joy that you were here. And you knew it was going to be a good two weeks here in Hawkins.

That was until it rained for three days straight, and you and Robin were basically stuck inside her room with nowhere to go. Robin's parents were kind enough to lend you their cars when they got home from work since Robin didn't drive and you didn't have a car, but that meant that if either of you wanted to go anywhere during the day, you had to bike or walk and neither of which, in the rain, was really ideal. You could always wait for Steve to get off of work, but by then you'd have Robin's parent's car so you were stuck.

But on the fourth day, you woke up to the smell of petrichor and a shining sun peering through the curtains. This was perfect because of you and Robin's strict itinerary.

Friday Day: Exploring the town/Lovers Lake

Friday Evening: Graduation

Friday Night: Grad Party

When Robin told you that you were spending your day at Lover's Lake, you thought she was actually going to murder you since there were no real places named that, but when the two of you were picked up by Steve to head to the lake, you found out it was, in fact, a real place.

It was actually kind of pretty, considering it was surrounded by woods. You were calmed by the sense of height within the area from the trees, but the actual visage of the lake was beautiful, and the sun reflecting off of that made it feel a bit more magical.

You were decked out in that same hoodie from the other day, as well as your favorite pair of shorts, both of which were covering up your favorite bathing suit. Swimming was enjoyable, but you weren't sure if today was a swimming type of day or a lounging in the sun type of day.

Either way, it was a 'try-not-to-stare-at-Steve-Harrington' day.

Your chauffeur started to help two other guys around his age, set up a picnic blanket, secure an umbrella into the sand, and set up the speaker for the music.

Nancy, the girl you had yet to be properly introduced to, got out of the car she drove here in with one of the boys, and walked over to you, a bright smile on her face.

"Hi! I'm Nancy, it's so nice to finally meet you. Robin hasn't shut up about you since you first met at college."

Your face lit up and you tried to cover up the smirk on your face. "Since we first met? Damn Birdy, I had no idea..."

"Thanks, Nance, now she's not going to shut up about it for fucking weeks," Robin mumbled, slinking off to go grab more things from Steve's car.

"It's really nice to meet you, Nancy. I've heard a lot about you too." You smiled and shook her hand—it felt a little serious for a meeting, but you got the sense that was just how Nancy was.

"Did Robin add your songs to the playlist? It gets really varied at times, but it's the only way we figured out to let each person be happy with the music if we all put fifteen songs on there, and then hit shuffle."

You shook your head, really confused about what this girl was saying to you. Nancy handed you her phone and scrolled through the playlist, showing you everyone's music picks, and explaining it in further detail. When you finally understood, you paused. "So can I add anything? No questions asked?"

Nancy nodded, smirking at the slight twinkle in your eyes. You added yourself to the playlist and handed her back her phone. "I'll add them before we start the playlist so that way they're in there fair and square."

Nancy nodded and then looked over at the boys. "So! You've met Robin, and obviously Steve, has Robin introduced you to anyone else yet?"

You shook your head 'No' and Nancy took your hand and dragged you off into the sand towards the gaggle of boys all staring at the umbrella since it was not as sturdy as they thought it would be.

After a single gust of wind, it had knocked right over.

"Nance there's no need to man-handle y/n—-"

Nancy rolled her eyes and stopped short of the group. "Go get some rocks Steve, and pile it around the base, I'm pretty sure we went over this last summer..."

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure it ended up not working in the long run there Wheeler." The long-haired guy crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow.

"Do they always give you this much lip even when they're wrong?" You half-whispered to Nancy, causing the two of you to try and cover your laughs.

"Y/n! You're supposed to be on my side here." Steve threw his hands up in the air before they landed on his hips.

"You look like a mom." You blurted out, causing yourself and the rest of the young adults to laugh together. Except for Steve, who was fake fuming, but really just at a loss. He really didn't think he looked like a mother but if a girl he had hung out with for no more than three days thinks so, then he might as well be fucked.

"Where did Robin find you?"

You looked across the group to the guy with longer hair, a tight tee with some sort of skull on it, and black bathing suit shorts. He was attractive, that was sure enough, but he definitely wasn't the pretty boy Harrington wanted to take a bite out of. Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Take a wild guess."

"Touché. So. More importantly, what are you adding to the playlist."

You shrugged. "You'll find out. I'm guessing you're Eddie."

"In the flesh." He did one of those bows that was reminiscent of a movie from your childhood—it was really fucking nerdy.

"And so you must be Jonathan." Your tone shifted, slightly nicer, less of a bite to it. It stumped Steve, watching you clearly figure out and adapt yourself to the person you were talking to, but never being one to actually hurt the other person, just tease lightly.

Jonathan nodded, his arm was already around Nancy's shoulder, and he gave you a small 'Hey".

Robin shouted over at the group for help with all three of the coolers, and you watched Jonathan and Nancy go over to help her with them. You helped Eddie and Steve set the umbrella again (this time properly), and moved on to setting up your towel and bag.

Steve placed his towel on the other side of yours and sat down on the ground next to you. Eddie had moved on to setting up his area around the picnic table, reorganizing coolers, and setting up the various snacks for the group throughout the day.

"So..."

You turned and looked over at Steve, who was looking right at you, a brightness in his eyes that the sun couldn't match. It looked right, like it was supposed to always be there.

"So..." You responded, smiling back at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

You sighed and leaned back on your hands, looking out over the water. "Robin thought that it would be a good...test of character, I think is how she put it. She, uh, got a hold of my phone a few weeks ago, and made the connection about why I had been so..."

Steve bit his lip. "So...?"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not gonna tell you if you're going to be a jerk about it."

Steve held his hands up, "I swear I won't be."

"Fine." You huffed and looked down at your legs. "Why I was so...attached to my phone, and blushing all the time, and why I kept smiling when I would get a text....and yeah."

You saw as Steve's face flashed with a wave of emotions, all of which managed to stay just below the surface. One of these days you would have to just stare at his face all day so you could learn very little mannerism, every little quick about this man.

"You, uh, smile every time I text you?"

You pursed your lips but then nodded. "Yeah. I—uh, I do."

"Hm." Steve nodded and looked out over the lake.

"Yeah."

You looked over at Steve just as he looked at you, causing both of you to smile again. Just as Steve was about to say something, you heard Robin call across the beach.

"Babe!"

You huffed slightly, the smile on your face becoming a little fake before turning and looking over at your best friend. "Yeah, babe?"

"Add your fucking music so I can hit shuffle."

"Aye Aye Captain." You gave her a mock salute and pulled out your phone, turning back towards Steve.

"Am I seriously going to get judged for what I put on?"

"We actually have a no complaints rule, since a certain someone would always bitch when his music never came on."

Your face lit up with amusement and nodded, before looking down at the playlist and scrolling through the songs already on there to see what had been added already.

"You really like the seventies and eighties, huh Harrington."

He shrugged and smiled. "I think I could have easily been an eighties heartthrob."

You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm slightly. "Yeah okay, sure."

Steve feigned a gasp. "You don't think I could've been!"

This caused you to laugh but continued to sort through your music, choosing the fifteen songs you felt like you wanted to hear most today.

"I'm sure you could have Steve. I'm sure."

Steve clutched his heart and fell backward. "You're killin' me here princess!"

You hit his thigh, not hard, but just enough to get your point across. "Don't call me that, unless you're going to commit to finishing the job because you owe me...big time." Your eyebrows were raised expectantly, but your voice was low so only Steve could hear you.

Steve smirked, and his eyes went a little dark for a moment before the sun returned them to their caramel color. "Trust me, now that you're here..."

"Good." You smiled and laid back on your towel, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your face and thighs, and enjoying the company of the smirking man next to you.

And you both stayed like this for the next hour, only getting up when food was offered. Steve eventually left your side, deciding to go for a swim. You opted out but enjoyed the view.

“He’s something else…”

You turned and looked at Robin sitting next to you, nodding in agreement.

“He really likes you.”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” Teasing her.

Robin shook her head and smiled. “I don’t have to. I mean, I've known him for years, but he’s never been like this about any girl, not even Nance.”

“Steve and Nancy dated?”

“They were the couple in high school. Did not end well, but the two of them are still good friends, surprisingly.”

You mouthed a soft ‘oh’.

“But…I’m being dead serious Y/n, he’s never been so…chill, peaceful…I don't know—”

“Sure.” Nancy chimed in and sat down on the opposite side of you.

“What?”

“He’s just so…sure about you. Like yeah, he can be a cocky asswipe, but he’s always freaking out about whether or not something is right, or going the way he thinks it’s supposed to.”

Robin nodded along while you tried to breathe evenly again. Not that you didn’t get those feelings from Steve, you absolutely did, but hearing about it from both Nancy and Robin at the same time was a bit overwhelming.

“He just, He’s so calm.”

“We’re not even dating.” You sighed, crossing your arms and looking out at the man in the water. He caught you looking at him, and winked at you, sending you a smile along with it. You waved slightly at him, returning the smile.

“He hasn’t asked you yet?”

“Nancy, it’s the twenty-first century, girls can ask guys out too.”

You rolled your eyes at Robin and shook your head. “No, not yet. We’ve only actually spent about fifteen hours in each other’s presence, with one of those being the hour drive down from Indianapolis…”

“Holy shit, and he’s that….wow.” Nancy leaned back on her hands, looking out over the water.

Plus we didn’t want to start dating behind Robin’s backs and have her hate us forever and ever. But you kept that thought to yourself.

The man in question decided that he had enough of the staring from the group of girls sitting on the beach, and waded his way over to you three, before walking out of the lake. “Can I help you three?”

Steve was literally dripping hotness off of his body. The sun backlit him, creating this holy look about him, and the water droplets slowly made their way down his chest and abs and down towards—You snapped your eyes back up to his face, where he was watching every single movement of your eyes, smirking slightly. It was fairly pornographic and would have you dragging Steve over to the car and fucking him senseless, but you’d settle for eye-fucking him instead since Robin was directly next to you, and so was Nancy.

“Just questioning Robin’s girl here.”

Steve’s eyes stayed trained on you and he raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, then why were all of you staring out at me huh?”

“Well, Harrington if you must know...”

“–I must Robin.”

“I’m just learning things. That’s all.” You tilted your head slightly, almost teasing him slightly. Your gaze was already enough to make anyone blush, but Steve Harrington wasn’t anybody. However, he immediately lost the shine of confidence at the thought of you, Robin, and Nancy talking about him.

“Learning what…exactly?”

You, alongside the other two girls, just shrugged, causing Steve to eye all three of you up and down, and head over to where Eddie was cooking up some lunch for you.

Sighing, you fully laid all the way down again and closed your eyes. “I think I’m just going to lie in the sun for a while and internalize every little thing the two of you just said to me.”

You didn’t hear as the two girls got up and left you alone. You also didn’t hear as someone else took his place next to you. You just drifted off into a light sleep, enjoying the warmth the sun was providing you so that you could just breathe for a moment and figure out everything that was going on inside your head.

First off, you liked Steve. And Steve liked you back. This was obvious before the girls told you, but the confirmation was a plus.

Second, Steve hadn’t mentioned ever going on another date, ever. You hadn’t even gone on a first one if you remembered correctly.

Third, You were unsure if Steve Harrington wanted to actually date you, or even kiss you. Sure, you rode his face like you were in one of those bull games in the rodeo bar, and he clearly seemed to enjoy it. But the only time he actually mentioned getting physical with you was either while it was happening, or if you brought it up first. Was he actually interested in you, or just being a gentleman?

This shit was fucking hard, that’s for sure.

“Hey.”

You hummed, letting Steve know you heard him.

“They’re going on a walk through the woods, wanna join?”

You shook your head, not wanting to get up from your spot on the towel.

Steve was silent for the next few moments. You assumed that he was staying on the beach with you since the others grabbed a couple things and started walking off into the woods.

“You’re not going?”

“Nope.”

You opened one eye and looked over at the boy next to you. He was looking right at you–a small smile flashed across his face. He was nervous. “I-I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah…Steve, it is.”

“Good.” He hummed and smiled at you.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Hawkins decided on having a Friday Night Graduation, and while at first, you were hesitant, you realized you’d rather have a graduation at sunset than have to wake up at the crack of dawn to watch kids you didn’t know walk across a stage.

You had gotten slightly dressed up, wearing a summery dress that didn’t leave you overheating, but was one step above casual. Sitting in between Steve and Robin was definitely something to behold considering they wouldn’t stop whispering to you, pointing out their kids.

The Salutatorian was one of theirs—a Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, as you found out. His speech was beautiful and even made you tear up a bit, which meant nothing since the group you were sitting with was all crying alongside you.

Eventually, the graduates walked, and you watched your friends stand up and down, screaming and cheering for their kids each time one of them walked across the stage. You had learned all of them using a Quizlet, trying to make sure you didn’t mess up any names. So far, you had learned that Dustin Henderson was Steve’s favorite, with Max Mayfield being a close second. (from what you had heard, Max could easily be your favorite). Max was dating Lucas Sinclair, who was on the basketball team, which you found out Steve had been coaching for the past few years. Then, there was Will Byers, Jonathan’s brother, and Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s brother. Mike was dating Elle Hopper, who was best friends with Max. But Elle’s Dad was getting married to Will’s Mom…

You repeated this little thing over and over in your head, trying to wrap your brain around what could have possibly connected all of these older teens to Robin since she and Steve didn’t even talk until high school, and Steve only dated Nancy in junior year and—Honestly, it was weird, considering you really couldn’t imagine twenty-three-year-olds hanging out with eighteen-year-olds, but you lost all your doubt when you saw how connected this group was—whatever had happened between them, bonded them for life.

Eventually, the caps got tossed, the principal said a few words, and they were all dismissed. The small group of you waited off to the side, knowing that they were going to all talk to their parents first. Steve stood next to you, and placed a hand on your waist, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. “Tired yet?”

You laughed softly and shook your head, keeping your head straight ahead because if you turned, you were going to kiss him right on his stupid lips.

“No, but I am ready to start drinking again.”

This caused Steve to laugh slightly and straighten up, but his hand stayed on the small of your back until a gaggle of kids in green and white grad robes came running at you all.

You took a step back watching as hugs and congratulations were thrown out at all of them. It was heartwarming, truly, to see such a family in action. You swore you saw, out of the corner of your eye, Steve and Dustin having a lightsaber battle at one point.

Robin took your hand and dragged you over to the curly-headed one. “Y/n, this is Dustin, Dustin, Y/n. The Roommate.”

All hell broke loose when Robin announced your title. The children’s heads all snapped towards you and they started to crowd you, which wouldn’t have been as intimidating if you had met them all before, or if they were shorter than you, which a bunch of them were not.

“You’re her Roommate?” “We’ve heard so much about you.” “Oh my god, we finally got to meet you?” “You’re a lot prettier in person.” “Where did you get that dress, it’s stunning.” “You came to watch us walk across a stage? That’s definitely a choice…” “I wouldn’t go to Indiana if I lived in a cool place like the city ” “It’s literally so nice to finally meet you.” “You’re like really pretty.” “How did you meet Robin?”

“Alright Alright! Let the woman breathe my god.” Steve yelled out to the group, as he took notice of your wide eyes. It’s not that you were nervous about meeting them, it’s just that the wave of questions was a tad bit overwhelming and unexpected.

“Alright.” Steve sighed and looked at you. “Ready?”

You furrowed your brows. “For?”

“Well.” Steve started to point to each child as if he was giving you a speedrun introduction. “That’s Dustin, That’s Max and Lucas. Will, Mike, And that’s Elle. Am I missing anyone?”

The group managed to give Steve a full unison moment of attitude.

“You still look like such a mom Harrington.” You laughed a bit when he put his hands back on his hips.

“God I knew I’d like you,” Max spoke up, causing you to smile at her.

“It’s really nice to meet all of you!”

They all responded back, at the same time, and then scattered. Whatever initial excitement was there had finally dispersed, meaning you weren’t the center of attention, and you could breathe again. Well, except for one kid, that came up to you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Robin doesn’t shut up about you when she’s home.”

“Good things I hope?”

Dustin nodded, and suspiciously eyed how close you and Steve were standing. “All good things. But I’m surprised at the fact that you came to Indiana.”

You shrugged. “Robin asked, so I came. Pretty easy decision. Best friends and all that.”

“So, are you going to be at Steve’s later?”

“What’s with the interrogation Henderson.” Steve raised his eyebrows.

“I’m just asking her questions! She’s new! I can’t just..let her into the group—”

Steve scoffed, “As if you are the final decision maker in that?”

“Uh, yeah. I am.”

“Sorry Dipshit. The older half really like her, so she’s in.”

“The rest of us have to vet her and you know it. Sure, Robin wouldn’t be friends with her if she sucked, but the rest of us don’t know her—”

Dustin eyed you up and down again. “I’ll allow it, but I still need further proof.”

“Don’t be a dick, Dustin.” Max cut in. “She’s pretty, she clearly can put up with Steve’s shit since she’s willing to stand next to him this long. Why can’t there be another girl in the group?”

Dustin’s mouth floundered for a moment before he settled on his answer. “It’s not that I don’t like her. I just….”

“Dustin.” You smiled at him. “I’m not asking to infiltrate. I get it. This is clearly a tightly bonded family, and I’m not trying to just waltz in here and take a spot. But let me give you my qualifications and you can mull it over, yeah?”

This amused Steve. Somehow, you had managed to entertain Dustin, and still manage to deescalate whatever the kid was thinking about. Dustin agreed to your terms and waited to hear what you had to say.

“First off, unlike Robin, I have a license. I don’t own a car but I live in like the major city of major cities, so I don’t exactly need one. But I can drive. Second. I am not a current permanent addition to the group, at least presence-wise. I am like a fun aunt who will let you stay in the city with her when you want to get out of Hawkins, and I only show up at family functions to spice it up a bit. Third, I have traveled to several different countries in the past two years, which means I can and will bring you back goodies from other countries. Fourth, I know how to party correctly, which means I am at a good time, and I will provide references if you need them. Fifth, and finally. I am over twenty-one, which means, I can and will buy you things that you can’t buy yet. This includes weed from a major city where it is in fact better than the stuff you get here.”

Dustin was taking all of this in, slightly bewildered by the fact that you literally just listed out your qualifications.

“Oh. And a sixth one, thrown in for free, I can commit to a bit Henderson.” You winked at him before walking over to where Robin had been talking to Will about something.

You felt Steve’s eyes on you but didn’t turn around, instead basking in the glory of dropping your over qualifications to win Dustin Henderson’s approval. You integrated yourself into her conversation with Will, enjoying the setting sun in the background. Tonight was going to be a good one, especially since you had decided that tonight was the night you wanted to talk to Steve about whatever was going on between the two of you, especially after everything that happened this morning.

______________________________________________________________________________

The kids managed to convince Steve to let them throw a graduation party at his apartment. Now this usually wouldn’t be such a big deal, but considering that they all could drink and party now, the space almost felt a bit too small. Especially since they invited some of their other friends that you had not yet met. Which is how you ended up sitting on the arm of the couch, watching all of the kids interact with each other.

“Hey.”

You looked over and smiled once you realized who it was. “Hey.”

“Wanna, uh–go into the kitchen with me for a second?”

You nodded and got up, following him past the decently sized group of people, and into the kitchen. It was not a spacious kitchen by any means, but there was a noticeably smaller amount of people, so it felt a million times better. You could breathe.

Luckily for you, you had been drinking since before noon, and it was well on its way to being one am. The true sign of a lady is how well she day drinks. You were on the balance of buzzed and tipsy, toeing the line with perfect grace. This gave you the confidence to feel a bit better about the fact that you were someone who was extremely touchy, which Steve clearly didn’t mind. Your hand had made its way to his chest, and you were gently tracing shapes.

“What’s up, Steve.”

“I–uh.”

You watched as his eyes flitted up to where the rest of the group was in his living room. He was silent for a few moments, which gave you time to really look over his face, and enjoy just how gorgeous he was. The curve of his lips. The slightly blush he always carried on his cheeks. The hazelnut color of his eyes. All while you were patiently waiting for him to sort through the words in his head.

“I’m really glad you came to Hawkins.”

“Me too.” You smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes once or twice for a bit of flirtatious emphasis.

“Because I had a really really good time in the city with you.”

You nodded, prompting him to continue talking.

This caused Steve’s smile to grow, with what you were sure were tints of blush across his cheeks.

“And I—well, I don’t exactly know what to do beyond this because you live in the city and I live here. And Robin might actually kill me if I ask you out, or if she found out the other things we started to get up to.” Steve was talking as quietly as he could, not keen on Robin finding out the compromising positions you had been in when Steve was in New York. “I know she has probably already said something to you but…I don't know. How do you feel about it because–”

For the first time in over a month, you were able to actually kiss him, instead of just dreaming about his lips, his mint chapstick, the way his hands felt around your waist. You had placed your beverage down on the counter and cupped his cheeks with your hands, basically pulling his lips to yours.

That warmth from before came crawling up your spine and filled your body with light. Fuck, you wanted to feel this for as long as you possibly could. Enjoying Steve.

But eventually, your proverbial luck would run out, since Robin cleared her throat from the doorway. She wasn’t exactly staring at either of you, but you couldn’t see her face since you covered your mouth with one of your hands, and wrapped the other arm around your stomach, looking away from her, losing all contact with Steve. Steve had quickly pulled one of his hands away, the other one still on your waist. You weren’t sure if Robin could see that one since your body was blocking it. Steve’s thumb ran up and down your hip, trying to calm you down.

He could feel your heartbeat racing. How embarrassing was that?

Even the calming sensation of Steve’s thumb rubbing up and down on your hip simply could not bring your heart rate down to a nice even 120/80. You’re pretty sure your Apple watch just pinged you about an increased heart rate.

The only worse thing was that Robin had just walked in on you kissing her best friend.

Her two supposed best friends kissed each other.

“I–uh–I was going to ask you where Y/n went…but um, I can see you’re both a bit busy…” The sound of your name made you wince.

Robin’s voice was strained, and she was trying to keep whatever emotions she was feeling at bay. Technically she had said this was fine, but she had never had to witness it or deal with it, in person before.

“Robin–”

“No, guys, seriously stop.” Robin took a breath. You could tell this was a bit weird for her, but she managed a brave face for the moment. “We talked about it. I’m okay with it. It’s just…It’s going to take me a second to get used to actually seeing it. Honestly, I just—I really wasn’t expecting to find you guys making out in the kitchen

“Are you sure?” You finally turned your head and looked at her, more nervous about how she would react to this than anything else in your life.

Robin smiled at you and nodded. “Really, actually, I’m fine. I am. I just, I’m going to go, um…I’ll be out back with Eddie if you need me.” She quickly left the room, leaving you and Steve alone again, to let out the breath both of you were holding.

“I thought that was going to head in a way worse direction if I’m being so honest with you.” You muttered, squeezing Steve’s arm.

“You’re telling me. I almost fucking melted when she first came in.”

This caused you to let out a brief laugh.

Steve sighed and rubbed his thumb up and down on your hip again. “I think she needs time getting used to it. We all do.”

After another moment of staring at one another, the feeling of contentment made your heart swell, shoving some bravery forward and out your mouth.

“I like you a lot, Steve.”

He smiled. “M-Me too.”

“Oh, so you agree? You like you a lot? That’s just what a girl wants to hear, damn.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No no, I meant I Like you a lot, not that I like me a lot—actually—”

“Steve.” You cut him off, smiling at him. “I was teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Steve couldn’t fight the smile growing on his face harder if he tried. You watched it slowly reach across his eyes and he shook his head. “I mean it though–a lot. I don’t think that even covers it.”

You placed your hand on his arm and squeezed it. “Don’t flatter me too much or my ego will inflate like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters—”

“WHO JUST SAID GHOSTBUSTERS.”

Dustin popped into the kitchen, looking around for the culprit. His eyes landed on you two and his eyebrows raised. “Robin’s friend Steve? Really? That’s the girl you’ve been–”

“Dustin. Enough.” Steve tensed up, cutting off the younger kid.

“No no no.” You moved out of Steve’s arms and towards Dustin. “Please, Dustin. Tell me more, the girl Steve, what exactly.”

“Dustin I swear to god—”

You looked over your shoulder at Steve and winked at him, before placing a hand on Dustin’s arm in a very similar way to how you had just touched Steve’s arm. Now, you weren’t a manipulative person by any means. But men were easy to get information out of if you just knew how.

You felt Steve’s eyes burning into you, watching your every move.

“Dustin, do you have a girlfriend?”

He looked at you weirdly but nodded. “Yeah. What does Suzie have to do with this?”

“How do you feel about her?”

Dustin’s shoulders detensed, and he tilted his head slightly. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just tell me about her.”

Dustin, who basically never talked about Suzie anymore since he didn’t want to annoy the group, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. “Well! She’s the perfect woman. Smart, kind, snarky, bossy, gorgeous—hotter than anyone ever—sorry. But she means the world to me—.”

You nodded along, listening to everything he had to say about Suzie, even popping in with clarifying questions, or asking how they met.

“Wow, that’s a long time to be dating someone so young.”

Dustin nodded and shrugged. “When you know you know.”

Steve was just watching you, completely fascinated. There were things Dustin was telling you that he had never even heard before. But he knew you were up to something, he just couldn’t figure out what you were doing.

You nodded and cast a quick glance back to Steve, who met your eyes. “That’s true.”

Steve almost blushed at the way you looked at him when you said that, making your eyes soften for a moment. When you know you know.

“Why did you want to know about Suzie?”

“I saw you texting her earlier. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here for your graduation…”

Dustin shrugged. “She’s coming up next week for about a month so I’d rather have her for a whole month than just a weekend. Besides, we’re both going to the same college so…I’d rather focus on what we do have than not, you know.”

“You are very wise for a high school graduate Dustin.”

Dustin shrugged. “Well, I’ve been saying that for years but now I have the degree to back it up….Alright, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ve accepted your application into the group here.”

“Oh thank you, I was a bit worried there.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Please, you passed the second I heard the word Ghostbusters come outta your mouth.”

This made you smile. “Dustin, one last question, and then I’ll let you go back to your friends—”

“Actually, I’d much rather be in here since you seem a lot cooler than half of the people in there.”

“I appreciate that Dustin thank you. But, my question is. Does Steve look at his phone like that? The way you were describing Suzie…”

Dustin scoffed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen him so glued to a screen before–”

“Dustin...”

You shushed Steve. “Let the man continue Harington, God.”

Dustin preened up a little bit at the sound of being called a man, making him continue. “He’s like…I’ve actually never seen him like this before. He’s always checking his phone but he’s smiling at it and laughing at things…oh…You’re good.”

You squeezed his arm before letting go. “Dustin, I need you to know that I am actually very interested in your relationship with this girl and I do hope I get to hear more about Suzie, I really do. I also appreciated the information you just gave me.”

“You’re the phone huh.”

“You’re a Genius Henderson.” Steve glared at him, definitely trying to conceal the embarrassment he was feeling.

“So Dustin, tell me more about the way he’s been acting.”

“Henderson if you don’t leave the kitchen right now–”

Dustin took a step away from you. “I like you, a lot, y/n. But I think I’ve done enough damage for Stevie over there, so I’ll leave you alone.”

You nodded and gave him a little wave as he took off back into the living room. You turned around on the spot, facing Harrington, who was all but embarrassed at Dustin exposing him.

“You smile at your phone when I text you huh?”

“Oh shut up, you knew that already.”

“It’s nice to get confirmation.” Your hands clasped behind your back, and Steve took the opportunity to walk over to you and place a hand under your chin.

Your breath? Left the fucking building, maybe even the whole state of Indiana.

“Confirmation that I liked you?”

He was lifting your chin up with just one knuckle, just enough that your head tilted up to look at him.

“I feel like what we did in the bathroom was confirmation enough.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “And if not, then kissing you a few minutes ago should’ve been.”

You hummed, eyes closing, expecting his lips over yours.

“You just like to tease me, huh.”

“Steve.” You whined softly, leaning forward a bit, trying to capture his lips in yours. But he just shifted back slightly, not letting your lips do anything more than ghost over yours.

“I like to tease too, ya know.” He muttered, his other hand sliding back onto your waist, pulling your body against his.

You hummed, waiting for him to make his move, giving up the little control you had moments before since the prize was a kiss.

But no kiss came. Steve Harrington dropped his hands from your waist and chin, and stepped back, grabbing his beer off of the counter and winking at you. “If it’s a game you want sweetheart, I can play it too.”

You groaned and watched as he backed out of the room, leaving you once again up against a counter and completely wound up.

A few hours later, you had found yourself rolling a joint for the older group, basically giving Eddie a masterclass in the art. He was extremely doubtful about the fact that your weed would be better than his, but when he took his first hit, Eddie Munson coughed.

The small group of you—Jonathan, Robin, Eddie, and Steve—all stared at him with wide eyes. You gently took the joint from his hand took a hit from it, and offered it to your right to Steve, who took a smaller hit than you. Since he had smoked with you before, he didn’t cough, much to Eddie’s dismay.

Jonathan gratefully took it next, muttering something about Cali Weed, which you didn’t fully catch. Eddie turned to you, eyes extremely red. “Jesus Christ Y/n. What the fuck is that?”

You exhaled slowly, impressing everyone, but Robin, with the amount of smoke in your lungs. “I say this with so much love in my heart Eddie—It’s good weed.”

Eddie went to scoff but started coughing again, causing you to smile a bit. You felt the first hit in your face, always. No matter how many times, your face was always the first. It felt slightly buzzy, like a current was pulsing through your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You leaned against Steve, watching as the joint made its rounds.

“Nancy, not a big smoker?”

Jonathan shook his head, exhaling the smoke over his shoulder to not blow it all in your face. “Can hold her liquor better than any of us though.”

“I buy it.” You smiled, resting your head against Steve’s shoulder.

Robin stuck her tongue out at you from across the circle before taking the joint and taking her own hit.

“So Y/n.”

You hummed and darted your eyes towards Eddie.

“You told Henderson that you’ve been to many different countries, like where?”

“I don't think that would make sense even if I wasn’t slightly high and slightly intoxicated.” You laughed and shook your head. ”But, uh, I don’t know. I’ve been a lot of places. Do you want me to just start listing them until you find one you like? Like those little Rolodex things old ladies have?”

Eddie nodded, taking the joint from Robin and taking another hit, this time not coughing.

You sighed and yawned a little bit, taking the joint when it was offered to you. Instead of taking a puff, you passed it on.

“Alright so, uh, let's see. I’ve been to about twenty states, and that includes Alaska. I’ve been to Canada a bunch. I have been to the Caribbean, so a bunch of those bad boys. Where else…”

“Serbia.” Robin listed for you, causing you to nod against Steve’s shoulder.

“Serbia, Croatia, Montenegro, all three of which are gorgeous by the way. Which then takes me to Europe so uh those countries, plus obviously England, and Ireland, both Republic of and Northern. Then, let's see, France…”

“France was a good one for you.”

You nodded. “Paris was good for me in many ways.” You made suggestive eyebrows at Robin who then burst into laughter.

“Then tell us about it.”

For some reason, you were starting to feel as if Eddie wasn’t your biggest fan. Now normally, if a man didn’t like you, you couldn’t find even a singular fuck to give, but this was bugging you. Maybe because he was so close with Robin.

“Well.” your gaze hardened a bit as you looked at him. “I think I managed to spend a total of sixteen hours in the Louvre during my entire week in Paris. I spent another day seeing the rest of the Musees that I wanted to see, and then I did the rest of the touristy things the rest of the time.”

“What about the Nightlife?”

“What about it?”

“Tell us about it.”

“Eddie…” Steve warned, feeling you tense up as Eddie continued to poke and prod at you. His words weren’t sharp, they weren’t knives. But they felt like tiny little shoves across your chest.

“Steve, it’s fine.” You muttered.

“If you must know, France has good nightlife, but if you want to party, you go to Spain. If you want exclusive yet fun clubs, you go to Berlin. Anyone who’s traveled outside the continental US could tell you that.” Your jaw set, but the smile on your face was a bit devilish. “But Eddie, dear, what I get up to in foreign cities in terms of my sexuality is between me, my phone, Robin Buckley, and the whiteboard in our apartment.”

Steve gasped. “That’s what those tally marks are.”

Robin shook her head but then paused. “Well no, not...kinda I guess. But not exactly what you're thinking.”

“I slept on your couch. You dirty dirty women.” He grumbled, removing his hand from your thigh, except it was just to lean back a bit, not to move you away from him.

“We’re both extremely competitive when it comes down to the basics. Besides, Robin was the one who started it, she said that she used to tally how many swings and misses you would take at your old job.”

Steve hung his head and laughed, causing the rest of the group to laugh alongside him. “Did she tell you what that job even was?”

“Oh Scoops? Absolutely. We cut up that stupid fucking costume one year for her Halloween costume.”

“That was you!?!”

You nodded and took a sip out of the drink you had brought out. “I’m also a costume designer.” You hummed. “Multi-hyphenate.”

That joke was meant for Jonathan since it caused him to cough on the air in his lungs. “Resume building 101.”

You mock cheers’d to that and rested back against Steve’s side, his hand moving back to your thigh.

Eventually, it was just you, Robin, Eddie, and Steve left, sitting on the porch, enjoying the view of the stars. You had forgotten how stunning they could be since you had basically lived within the city for the past few years, not really going out to places where you could see the sky. It was just marvelous to you.

Robin and Eddie stood up to go, meaning you also had to go. But Robin just kissed your head and whispered in your ear before you could stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded, smiling at her and taking her hand in yours. “I love you, Robin Buckley. Marry me.”

This caused Robin to burst out in laughter, and she nodded at you. “It’s a date babe.” She said her goodbyes to Steve and left with Eddie who was your ride home.

The two of you sat together, with you listening as Steve told you about someone, the constellations that he knew, with you lying on his lap, while he pointed out the stars.

“And that one is Orion’s belt. It’s probably the easiest to spot since it’s literally just three stars in a row.” He whispered, not wanting to break the silence the two of you had created.

You hummed. “That’s the hunter right?”

Steve shrugged. “You probably know better than I do.”

You managed to sit up and face him, lips seconds away from him. “And what would make you say that?”

He shrugged again, no longer looking up at the stars in the sky, but rather at the stars in your eyes.

Your eyes flitted to his lips quickly, silently asking for permission, which he answered by placing them against yours. Your body exploded like the sun, radiating the peace you had felt all those months ago at the cafe, and then again in the kitchen. Neither of you moved, just sitting together like two lovers would, slowly kissing one another under the universe.

Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulled away, enjoying the sound you let out as he did so. You tilted your head slightly, leaning forward to capture his lips again in yours, but he dodged your lips and kissed your neck instead. His lips found under your ear and kissed there. “Wanna head inside.” He muttered.

You hummed a positive response, unsure of how the two of you managed to make it inside and towards his bedroom. All you could focus on was the feeling on his lips, on yours, on your neck. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your hips, brushing up your thighs, tugging on your hair.

But you found yourself backed up against his bedroom door. His body pressed into yours, kissing your neck. “Fuck me, pretty girl.”

If that’s what he wanted you to do then who were you to deny him that much? Your head lulled to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you just moaned in response. Your legs were on the ground, but the only thing really keeping you up against the door was Steve’s knee, which had made its place between your thighs.

Steve’s lips quickly found that sweet spot right above your collarbone and he gently sucked on it, causing your hips to roll forwards and your eyes to roll backward. You inhaled and arched your back the more he sucked on it, nipping it to add some color to his mark.

Steve felt as your hand snaked its way around his waist, your fingers cool against his skin. You tugged on his shirt, making him pull away slightly and rip his shirt off of his body.

Both of your hands went to his chest, so you could run your fingers across it, feeling as much of him as you could.

“Steve?” You muttered as he continued to kiss across your neck.

He paused and looked up at you.

“If you don’t do something in the next minute I’m locking you out of your room and fucking myself.”

He chuckled, pupils dilating at the thought of you touching yourself. But he shook the thoughts away and pulled you in for a kiss. “As you wish, Pretty girl.”

You hummed at his words, removing your shirt when he tapped on your back and pulled away from you for a moment.

For some power beyond man, you wore a really cute bra today. It wasn’t lingerie, but it made Steve drool all the same, causing him to groan at the sight. He didn’t stop there though, slowly pulling off your shorts and underwear causing him to kneel down in front of you. You sucked in a breath.

The sight of Steve Harrington kneeling before you to eat you out was becoming your new favorite view.

He took one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, kissing up your thigh, slowly, looking up at you the whole time.

He was looking for any kind of hesitation but instead, all he received was a “Fuck, Steve, please.”

Steve smirked at you before licking up your thigh and gently nipping at it, causing your head to tilt against his bedroom door.

Steve took his time eating you out. He teased you relentlessly, eliciting every single sound from you he could possibly discover, muttering how much of a “pretty girl” you were into your “pretty little pussy”.

His lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked over so gently. Your hips shifted forward, back on the edge of an orgasm, waiting not-so-patiently for him to make you cum all over his face.

“Come on baby girl let me taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.”

“P-Please Steve.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, one had in his hair, the other shoved against the door frame for support.

The heat in your gut was winding up tighter and tighter, causing you to roll your hips, riding his face. Every time your body shuddered, you’d hit Steve’s nose just right against your clit, making you gasp a little bit.

You moaned his name out, finding yourself closer and closer to the edge as he became more and more relentless fucking you with his tongue and with his words.

He curled his tongue in the right spot, causing your body to snap.

Not a single sound left your mouth as you cum on his tongue, back arching against the door, leg shaking as Steve held you up as you came. You felt his tongue working you through, and you could have sworn he moaned at the first taste of you.

Eventually, Steve slowly pulled away, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs. Your high was slowly coming back down and you muttered out a ‘holy fuck’, which caused Steve to nip at your thigh. Still sensitive, you let out a moan in response before yanking on Steve’s hair gently.

He chuckled, the breath from his lips causing you to squirm a bit. What a sight you must have been: almost completely naked, covered in hickeys and marks, with a man wrapped in between your legs, up against his bedroom door.

Steve slowly let your leg down, before kissing his way back up, enjoying every little sharp intake of breath, and every little moan that got caught in your throat. He made his way to your lips and it was dirty how much you enjoyed kissing him while he still had you all over his lips. It was obscene.

“How ya doing pretty girl.” He muttered, arms wrapped around your waist, lips on yours.

You were blissed out. Every time you thought about what you just experienced, your hips twitched a little bit, and all you could do was use your hands to shove Steve’s lips further into yours. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, and you happily obliged, opening up a bit more so he could taste all of you.

When he pulled away so you could breathe, he went back to kissing your neck. “I’ve been dreaming about your taste for fucking months.”

You swore you could orgasm a second time at that sentence alone.

Steve’s fingers melted into your skin, and you were sure that there were permanent sun spots where his hand was, forever indicating where his hands should always be.

You gently pulled on his hair once again, gaining his attention. “Steve.” You muttered, rubbing your thumb up and down on his neck.

He nodded and reached over, opening the door to his room.

The two of you slowly made your way to his bed, lips on lips, hands grabbing for skin, wanting more contact than what you had.

By the time you were on the bed, your skin had become a canvas and Steve was the artist, his lips leaving little marks scattered across your skin like constellations.

Steve pulled away for a moment, sitting back on his heels, causing you to sit up. You took over his task, slowly unbuckling his belt, looking up at him the entire time. Steve licked his lips and bit his bottom one at the sight of you.

You slowly pulled it out of the belt loops and then threw it somewhere in the room. Your fingers made their way up his thighs before they popped open the button of his jeans. You could see the strain on the jeans from how hard Steve was, pushing against the fabric.

He groaned as you unzipped them before leaning back on your hands, watching him take them off. You could have sworn you started to drool when you saw his cock.

His hands almost started you as he placed one beside your head, leaning down to kiss you.

You didn’t realize that he had been wearing his silver chain this entire time, until it brushed against your collarbone when his lips connected with yours. You felt as Steve slid his knee between your legs, and his other hand cupped your cheek.

“Steve I–” You muttered against his lips, but he cut you off by kissing you again.

After a moment, he pulled away, hovering above you. “What gorgeous.”

“Please.” You whispered, feeling antsy at the fact that you hadn’t felt him yet, that he was barely touching you.

He smiled slightly. “You have somewhere to be?” He joked, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You rolled your eyes. “What if I did.”

He kissed your collarbone. “By all means.”

The top of your chest, above the bra. “Leave then.”

You let out a shuddered breath at the feeling of his mouth above your chest and closed your eyes.

“No?” He licked up your neck and nipped at the bottom of your ear. “Come on baby girl, nothing more to say.”

“F-fuck.”

He chuckled and slid his hand down to the front of your bra, undoing it with one hand. “Opens from the front…someone was prepping.”

Your cheeks turned red and you shook your head. “N-no.”

He shrugged and took it off of you. “Doesn’t seem that way, sweetheart.”

Your nipples hardened at the cool air surrounding you both, and Steve put his hand on your waist, slowly sliding up your side until he could cup your tit in his hand, giving it a squeeze.

You moaned at the contact but kept your eyes on the scene in front of you. It would be criminal to not watch Steve take his sweet time with you.

He shifted again, making it so he was able to rest on top of you, and trace designs across your chest with his tongue. It flicked against one of your nipples which made your body jump up against his.

“Sensitive?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You muttered, one of your hands making its way to his shoulder and squeezing it tightly.

He rubbed his thumb over the other nipple, flicking it. His tongue went to work, finding out everything that made you feel good, that made you moan. Once Steve had worked you up, he switched his attention to your other tit, his lips kissing across the valley of your chest.

He was teasing you, watching every single movement of your body and while you wanted to shove him back down to clean up his mess, you couldn’t help it. You had never seen a sight so intoxicatingly hot. His chain dragged around with him, adding to the sensation of his mouth on your skin.

Somehow from barely moving, you felt like your body was on fire, it was too hot. You felt too good.

“Gonna take my sweet time with you, pretty girl.” He muttered, kissing back up your collarbone. “Gonna hear every single one of those pretty sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours. Yeah?”

All you could do was nod and close your eyes, trying not to orgasm right then and there.

He tsked and squeezed your waist. “I wanna hear it, baby. I want to hear you.”

“Yes–yes–please god yes.” Your answer poured out of you before you could even think about it. The only thing in your head was Steve Harrington. Steve’s hips, his ass, his arms, his chest, his lips, his hair, his chain, his stupid fucking smirk.

You felt him pull away for a moment, and you opened your eyes. He had gotten up and grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and tossing the wrapper somewhere. You watched as he slid it over his cock, which was already glistening with pre-cum, causing him to smirk.

“I make you excited or something, Harrington?”

He laughed as he made his way back over to the bed. “Something like that yeah.”

You leaned up slightly and captured his lips on your own, enjoying the moment of just his lips on yours.

He hummed and you felt him slowly guide himself to your entrance.

You’d never spent the whole night fucking someone, until now, and even then, you weren’t sure what you were doing was just fucking one another. Sure it started out like that, but it evolved into something more the second Steve Harrington took your hand in his and pushed into you for the first time, whispering everything he adored about you into your ear.

A sigh that could be categorized as relief left your mouth when he bottomed out, just letting the both of you get used to the feeling of one another.

He kissed your jaw before slowly pulling his hips back out.

You moaned into his ear as he started moving, your bodies moving in sync just like those cheesy books you had read told you.

Feeling good has never come so easy to you. The way Steve Harrington was kissing you, so tender, with sure care made you want to freeze the world so you could stay here forever, with him. Your moans match up to each thrust, each inhale from when he kisses the sensitive skin right above your collarbone.

The stars outside shined brighter for you, that’s what you would swear when telling your friends, that the universe quieted and the stars multiplied so you could see all of them as Steve made love to you, whispered how much he adored you, how he couldn’t wait to kiss you the moment he saw you at the airport. How he wanted to see what you tasted like the moment he first met you.

It was overwhelming, only breathing in Steve, bodies picking up the pace as you simultaneously leaned over the line, ready to snap.

You begged him, you needed him. His name falling from your lips with every single movement he made.

His hand slid down your body and slowly started toying with your clit. “Come on pretty, let me feel you. I want to feel you. You’ve been so good for me, so fucking hot baby, let me feel you.”

It snapped. The coil in your stomach snapped and you came, walls clenching down on him. Your mind went blank and your vision was filled with millions of stars that had floated in through the window and hung in Steve Harrington’s eyes.

The feeling of you caused him to quickly follow you, hips thrusting into you, making you both ride one another’s orgasms. The sound of his breath, his moans, caused another wave to crash down on you. Your back arched, jaw quivering as your chest lost all of its air. The weight of his body kept you grounded but your mind was in the clouds.

That calmness you had experienced before settled into your chest. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. There was no insatiable hunger, no need to go again (at the moment), nothing of the sort. Just a need to become inseparable, to become one whole again from two halves.

And you could tell Steve felt the same from the way he kissed your cheek and lifted his head to look at you. You both felt it. The feeling as if this was right as if you were supposed to be here with one another, as if it was written in the stars, or read through some tea leaves—you were supposed to be falling in love with Steve Harrington.

You leaned up ever so slightly, saying everything you possibly could with your lips against his, with no words being spoken. There was no need for them anyway because you just knew Steve felt the same.

______________________________________________________________________________

You spent the next week, doing your best to split your time between your best friend, and your something new. Robin was actually doing quite well adjusting to the two of you since it felt like this had always been normal.

The night before you and Robin were set to leave, Steve had taken you out by Lover’s Lake again, remembering how much you loved hearing about the stars. It was breathtaking. Truly the sky felt so vast and so big and you were standing underneath all of that with someone you truly cared about.

The night didn’t end there.

The two of you melted into one another in the backseat of Steve’s car. Skin on Skin. Stars collide in your eyes. Hands digging deeper than skin into souls.

Yet after all of that, you were still too terrified to ask the question that had been on your mind since last Friday.

What Now?

“I had been, uh, thinking.”

Steve’s thumb was rubbing against your hip, bringing your focus back to him.

“And, uh, we have to…”

You nodded.

“Steve I–”

Steve shook his head. “Let me get through this, yeah?” He whispered, almost like he was scared to even hear his own voice.

“I-I have been searching for a way out of Hawkins for a while now. I love my friends, but now that the kids have graduated and-and are moving away, I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

You brushed your hand against his cheek as a sign of comfort, not saying anything.

“I don’t want you to think I’m latching onto you because you could get me out of here. I need you to know that’s not—I have never felt more sure about anything—anyone in my entire life than I feel about you. It sounds fucking crazy to say out loud, but I swear your touch literally brings my heart rate down. Hearing your laugh is like a fucking drug and, and, I want to spend as long as I can staring into your eyes, memorizing every single centimeter of your body, watching you as you stare up at the stars. I w-want that. I want it so badly. It sounds delusional since we’ve barely spent a full week's worth of time together. But speaking it out into the universe has fucked me over so much in the past. Anytime I’d utter any true want out loud, it’d, uh, it’d disappear. But I can’t—I think I’d go batshit if I couldn’t kiss you every day. What–what I’m trying to say is that—”

You gently placed your lips on his lips, not having the words in the English language to describe the field of flowers blooming in your chest under the sunshine that was Steve Harrington.

Steve smiled and pulled away after a moment.

“You were gonna launch into the sky with the way your mouth was running.”

Steve nervously laughed and nodded, closing his eyes.

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m into you because you could be a way out of Hawkins. I need you to know that I’m seriously falling for you and I-I couldn’t be more in awe of you every time I look at you.��

Your eyes started to water and you shoved his chest. “Fuck Steve. That was…That was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.” You muttered, burying your face in his neck, to hide the fact that this man just made you so emotional using minimal words.

The two of you sat there, enjoying the company of one another, whispering sweet everythings in each other’s ears. It was everything to you. His hands on your body, his eyes locked onto yours. The thought of having to leave the next morning had you terrified since neither of you really had any idea how you were going to make this work, but you’d be fucking damned if you weren’t going to try. Steve was worth it to you. He was worth everything.

And suddenly, because of Steve Harrington, you started to believe that you were worth everything too.

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

Your work has been a great source of joy and relief to me (at last after a day of shitty circumstance i get to thrive in my free time with your witing) and i just want to thank you for that...💗💗💗

But i do also wanna request a jealous reader to james or remus, I'm genuinely curious as to how they'll handle that and what will they do to satiate reader

Thank you, sweetheart! Love you <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James looks especially sightly today, his brown skin gleaming in the sun and hair stuck slick to his forehead. He’s shirtless, which is always a treat, muscled abdomen sometimes distorted beneath the pool water and sometimes slipping above, inadvertently teasing, and his shoulders look especially strapping with Lily’s pale thighs seated atop them.

You really like Lily. You’re quite disappointed in yourself, actually, for the hot flash of malice that goes through you when she burrows her manicured fingers in your boyfriend’s hair, laughing about losing her balance. James moves his grip from her knees up to her thighs, promising he’s got her. Something foul and warmish curdles in your gut.

On the other side of the pool, Sirius and Remus advance like a totem pole with two wildly different faces, one menacing and the other reluctant. They’d asked if you wanted to play chicken, but getting pushed and shoved by Sirius isn’t your idea of a good time. You figured you’d be more content here, sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet kicking idly in the cool water, but now you can see how it does sort of look like a couples activity, Sirius atop Remus’ shoulders and Lily on James’. It’s no secret that James had pined after Lily for years. It was back in their school days, before you met him, but it’s been brought up a few times in a teasing way that’s made it clear to you that everyone knew how he felt about her. You wonder if Lily ever thinks about it. If she’s assured, consciously or not, that she could have him back at any time of her choosing. It’s not something you love to dwell upon.

The pairs are fairly evenly matched. Sirius fights dirty, splashing water up at Lily and trying to unhook one of her knees from around James’ shoulder, but Remus can’t be bothered to participate and looks like he’d be just as happy to be pushed over and call it done. Lily, meanwhile, isn’t as creative a fighter and is only shoving at Sirius’ shoulders, but James provides a strong base. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of her legs, calling up encouragements and occasionally freeing a hand to pinch upwards at Sirius’ side. Sirius shrieks and swears at this, claiming that it’s against the rules. Eventually, Remus gets tired of supporting his boyfriend’s weight and feigns a fall back into the water. Sirius squawks as he goes down, and Lily and James cheer and high-five before he helps her dismount with far more grace.

You clap and smile like a good girlfriend. James beams as he swims over to you. Sometimes looking at James’ smile at full capacity is a bit like looking at the sun, and you feel like you need some special glasses to gaze directly at it. This is one of those times.

He takes your calf in his big hand and leans his cool cheek on your warm knee and makes you feel like the most special girl in the world, and you can’t stop thinking that Lily probably knows this exact feeling.

You make extra sure to be nice to Lily on your way out later that evening, guilty and vexed with yourself for the way you’ve been thinking about her, and James waves a friendly goodbye to the group as you both step outside.

Instantly, his arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. James was prepared for the nighttime chill, pulling a sweatshirt out of his bag as soon as the sun set, whereas you’re in a tank top and shorts that have grown damp from your swimsuit. You lean into him gratefully.

“Did you have a good time today?” he asks.

“Mhm.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head a bit, looking down at your face. “You seemed a bit off.”

You shrug. You should’ve expected James would notice. “I guess I just wished I’d participated more.”

He makes a contemplative humming sound. “You don’t mean that you think people didn’t want you to participate, right? They love you, angel, you know that.”

“No, I…” You want to say I know, but you’re worried you’ll sound conceited. You never usually second-guess yourself like this around James. You sort of hate it. “I just didn’t realize that if I said no to playing chicken, Lily was going to be your partner instead.”

He’s quiet for a second. Something in your gut twists uneasily.

“I thought you liked Lily.”

“I do.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

You answer without thinking, because whatever you might be feeling right now, you are not a jealous person. You won’t be that kind of girlfriend. The breeze picks up, and goosebumps prickle down your arms, making you shiver.

“Are you cold?” James asks.

You know he’s going to want to give you his sweatshirt, and you really can’t be taking things from him right now. “I’m alright.”

“You know you’ve got nothing to worry about with Lily,” he tells you, thumb brushing softly over the skin of your bare shoulder. It should be reassuring, but suddenly you’re thinking about how this same hand looked so comfortable wrapped around Lily’s thigh. You step out from under his arm, crossing your arms as casually as you can against the chill.

“I’m not worried,” you reply.

James looks perplexed, and also a little dubious. The thought of him not believing you, even if you are lying, fills you with a burning indignation.

“I just don’t see why you had to be touching her so much,” you say. “You could’ve looked a bit less eager.”

He actually laughs at that, but the look on your face stops him quickly. “Sorry, but did you really think I looked eager?” he asks, a little smile still teasing the corners of his lips like you’re a child he has to talk down from a fit. “That’s just part of the game, sweetheart.”

The way he says it, sweetheart, suddenly feels less affectionate and more like a placation. Condescending. Heat builds behind your eyes, and you realize with horror that you feel like you might actually cry. You’ve never felt so distant from James. Not even when you’d first started dating.

You pick up your pace, staying ahead to keep him from seeing your face. “You didn’t have to touch her legs so much,” you huff.

“That’s just how it works!” he laughs, incredulous.

You roll your eyes, and James lengthens his stride to catch up to you.

“So let me get this straight,” he says. He sounds more serious than before, which you thought you’d wanted but now you’re not so sure. Your heart trembles. “You wanted me to throw the whole game to just avoid touching my friend’s legs?”

“She wasn’t always your friend,” you remind him.

“Yes, she was.”

You don’t know how to respond to that. From a factual standpoint, he’s not wrong, but you know that Lily was more than that in James’ head for quite some time. He can’t boil it down to something so simple.

The silence stretches out between you, ice-thin and just as cold. Then you shudder again, and James sets a hand on your shoulder. It’s only there for a second before he retracts it, as if unsure what he’s allowed. Your heart throbs.

“You are cold,” he says, and his tone is doting teetering on the brink of accusatory. He grabs the hem of his sweatshirt. “Here, have—”

“I don’t want your sweatshirt,” you say sharply.

James pauses. “Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

“Sweetheart, you’re cold.”

“So what?” You cross your arms harder, trying to hide your trembling under the guise of general agitation. “That’s not what we’re talking about.”

“What are we talking about?” he asks you. “How I let Lily sit on my shoulders as part of a game and now I’ll surely leave you for her?”

Even as a joke, it stings. “Would you?”

“Of course not!” His hands spread out in front of him, helpless. “What do you want me to do? Should I just never be friends with another girl again?”

“No, it’s not—it’s not that.” Your eyes burn. You’re frustrated with him for intentionally missing the point, and frustrated with yourself for needing his reassurance in the first place. “I just want to know that you’d pick her over me.”

“I have!”

“You didn’t pick, James.” Your breathing is starting to sound ragged. The words taste acidic in your mouth. “She picked for you.”

“Angel, that was ages ago.” James softens his voice, likely hearing the tears in yours. “I don’t see her that way anymore. She was right, we wouldn’t have worked together.”

“But how can you know that?” Your voice breaks just as a harsh shiver goes through you, and you wrap your arms more tightly around yourself.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You don’t have to turn around to hear that James has stopped walking behind you, his footsteps halting. Reluctantly, you slow in response but don’t turn around, waiting to see what he’s doing. “Come here.” When you don’t move, his voice hardens into a tone you don’t hear often. “Come here.”

You turn around, more curious than anything, and James has taken his sweatshirt off. He tugs it over your head before you can say anything.

“James!” you protest, squirming, but his hold is strong. He manages to wrestle your torso in and get one of your arms into a sleeve before he seems to decide that’s good enough and leaves you be.

“Quit being so stubborn,” he says, still in that same tone. You stop trying to get the sweatshirt off immediately, hands dropping to your sides. James has never been so stern with you before. You don’t quite know how to react. “You’re freezing, and your hair’s still wet. There’s no sense in suffering through it just because you want to have a row.”

“I don’t want to,” you tell him, but your words sound petulant even to your own ears.

“Then listen.” He takes your jaw in hand, setting his eyes on yours. “I do not want to be in a relationship with Lily. I thought I did once, but I don’t anymore.” He waits a second, making sure this sinks in, before his voice softens. “I’m going to be friends with girls. That’s just…that’s the way I’ve always been. But I’m with you because I’m happiest with you, and this isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me.”

You nod, suddenly flooded with self loathing. A tear skids down your face when you blink. “I’m sorry. It’s not about…I do trust you, I promise. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“Honey,” James murmurs. The tear lands on his index finger, and his face pinches like it stings. “Listen, if I saw some guy with his hands all over you, I’d—”

“In a bathing suit,” you add tearfully.

“With his hands all over you in a bathing suit,” he amends, “I’d probably be upset too. But you’ve got to tell me these things, you know? If you’d brought it up at the time, I could’ve told you I don’t feel that way about Lily and maybe you would’ve had a better afternoon.”

“I didn’t want to be the jealous girlfriend,” you admit. “I really do like Lily, I didn’t mean to accuse either of you of anything.”

“I think…I think some amount of jealousy has to be normal,” James says, brows bunched pensively even as his finger strokes at your cheek. “We’re each other’s, you know? It’s just letting it get in your head that’s the problem. If you’re thinking I’d pursue someone else while I’m with you, that doesn’t reflect very well on me.”

You shake your head, leaning away from James’ hand to wipe your nose. “I don’t really. I know you’d be—you’d at least be nice about it. You’d tell me.”

Pain etches itself into the indent between your boyfriend’s brows. He takes your face between both hands now, looking into your eyes determinedly. “I love you,” he says, bending to press a firm kiss between your brows. “Understand?”

You wrap your arms around his middle, pushing past his face to tuck your head under his chin. “I love you too.” Your voice is ardent if a bit wobbly, tears that feel more like a reaction to a past fright than anything else still moving sluggishly down your face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s forgiven, sweetheart.” James’ big palm comes to rest between your shaking shoulder blades, scrubbing up and down firmly. “Let’s get home, yeah?”

974 notes · View notes

satoruxx · 3 months

Text

SAUDADE.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 3.7k words

✧ SUMMARY: canon au, set after geto leaves so lots of unresolved feelings, alternate between past and present, megumi and tsumiki cameo, satoru has a raging crush on you but you're blind, suguru also had a raging crush on you but you were still blind, slight angst bc canon jjk events, lots of longing on suguru's end, you're confused af, satoru PINES for you and shoko is so tired of him, but overall very fluffy

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: will i ever publish the actual canon au? who knows. this fic is written in that same au but it's just a snippet of their lives. if you've read angel on my shoulder, just know that's an alternate ending of this au where reader dies lol. but this is very sweet bc you don't die !! you and satoru love each other lots but suck at showing it. happy valentine's day everyone <33

you glance at satoru's giddy smile, wariness creeping up your shoulders before turning to shoko. "what's wrong with him?" you ask, shifting slightly from where you're leaning against one of balconies of jujutsu high.

"who knows?" she sighs, eyes flickering up to glance at the snowy haired sorcerer just barely before they turn back to you. "ignore him."

"hey!" satoru huffs, walking closer to sling an arm around your shoulder—casual, like it's something he doesn't have to think about. you grumble under the extra weight, shooting him a glare, but he's too busy smiling like he's up to something.

"so…" he grins down at you, eyes shining and full of mischief. "know what day it is today?"

you blink at him, trying to scour your brain. "what's the date again?"

satoru gives you a blank stare, before sighing heavily. "god you're slow. it's february 14th, stupid."

"oh," you reply blankly, relaxing because it's nothing inherently important. "so valentine's day?"

satoru's smile comes back full force—cheeky and blinding. "exactly! and when i went shopping today guess what happened?"

"what happened?" shoko asks boredly, shaking her head when she makes eye contact with you.

"well," he drags out the word, crossing his arms like he's pleased with himself. "i was walking along after picking up some sweets because—"

"because you have an addiction," you supplement, and satoru pauses to glare down at you, reaching out to flick a long finger against your forehead.

"it's not an addiction! and don't interrupt me! anyways—"

you smother a smile that shoko mirrors.

"—i was walking and then these two girls came up to me all smiley. like they were giggling and shit, right?"

"uh huh."

"and they started going on and on about how i was the most handsome guy they've ever seen. and then they asked how come i was walking around by myself on valentine's day."

you blink, suddenly feeling a strange mix of interest and irritation.

"so i told them that it's not really my thing and that i didn't have anyone to celebrate with anyway. and then they said it was actually a crime that someone like me was single on valentine's day."

you have to suppress a roll of your eyes, though you're not sure why.

"so basically the moral of the story is that i'm extremely charming and super good-looking too! and that girls love me!"

he looks at you, eyes scrutinizing your expression as you glance at shoko, unimpressed.

"that's it? that's your crazy story?"

"well you guys always say i'm full of it when i call myself hot! now i have proof that it's a universal truth!"

"well we're not stupid—" shoko rolls her eyes, hugging her arms to push away the cold as she leans against the railing. "—we know you're freakishly hot. you're just obnoxious and we like teasing you."

"ugh." satoru rolls his eyes, huffing as he stretches his joints. "you guys are ridiculous. and—"

he pauses, an odd expression crossing his face as he blinks in thought. then he's turning to you with the most smug smirk you've ever seen on him. "wait. you think i'm hot?"

you frown, lips parting in mild confusion. "huh?"

"that's what shoko just said. that you think i'm freakishly hot."

your brows shoot up, an unfamiliar rush of heat crawling up your skin. "but she said both of us! like it's just something that's obvious. i mean as long as you have eyes anyone can see—"

"oh so it's obvious, is it?" satoru's expression is oddly giddy, a pink flush settling high on his cheekbones.

you gape at him, suddenly speechless. you don't remember satoru ever having the ability to make you speechless before.

you can't comprehend the stirring in your chest—uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

"you—" you scoff, reaching up to shove him away. "you're full of shit. doesn't change no matter how hot you are."

shoko has gone quiet, eyes darting between you and satoru with an uncharacteristic glint of curiosity. but satoru's gaze does not stray away from you, pearly whites on full display as he licks his lips. he doesn't say anything else, running his fingers through his hair.

"sure sure," satoru hums—pleased. "whatever you say."

you throw shoko an exasperated glare, and she shakes her head, though there is a shine of amusement in her eyes—like she knows something that you don't.

"i mean, they were right you know?" satoru ponders, leaning back against the railing. "why aren't we doing something fun today? we used to go out and buy a shit ton of chocolate back when—"

he stops, expression going sour, before disappearing all together. there is a clear absence, one that the three of you notice but try not to linger on.

("valentine's day?" suguru had asked years ago, glancing down at you with a smile. "you like it?"

"definitely not," you reply, cheeks warming as you fiddle with the sugared churros in your hand, unable to look at him. "what's so great about a day where couples spend a shit ton of money on each other to make the rest of us singles feel miserable?"

a muted chuckle, and when you look up suguru's eyes are shining with mirth. "i'm sure you wouldn't think that if you weren't single."

"i guess," you huff, glancing at the sidewalk. your face feels like it's on fire—but suguru has always had that effect on you. "not very likely to happen though."

the expression suguru throws you will linger in your mind until the day you die. "what do you mean?" he asks—incredulous, like you were speaking nonsense. he stops in his tracks, the busy streets bustling around him as you continue to walk.

you take a bite of your churro, glancing back at him with clear confusion. "huh? oh i just meant me dating someone is unlikely," you shrug, though suguru looks speechless, lips parted and eyes wide behind dark bangs.

"why on earth do you say that?" he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. he seems to visibly shake off his initial shock to continue walking, and you patiently wait for him to rejoin your side—he does.

"i don't know," you say, somewhat bashfully because you don't usually talk about these things with him. "do you really think there's room for things like that in our lives?"

"do you?" he counters, and you're too busy formulating your answer to notice that he's oddly interested, eyes continuously darting over your face.

"i mean, it'd be great if there was," you ponder, taking another quick bite. "it'd be nice to be able to settle down with someone even after all the crap we've gone through."

"right…" suguru seems to nod along with you, matching your steps even with his longer stride.

"but—" you stress. "considering that most of us are too traumatized or dead by that time, i don't have much faith."

you laugh at your own statement, but there isn't much amusement in it at all. putting it into words makes you truly realize how shitty your lives are even at such a young age.

your mind drifts to the cerulean eyed sorcerer who's currently off in a different city, being made to fight because he is god on earth in a seventeen year old body. it drifts to a brown haired girl who sits, secluded in a room as bodies are sent to her on a conveyor belt, her hands outstretched to feel blood and gore and horror day in and day out. then it drifts to the boy who is most like you, the one with the dark bangs who rationalizes this pain, this service you have devoted yourselves to with the need to do good for others—because there is no other explanation for why you have to go through this.

the same boy who takes your answer in critically, eyes heavy with an oddly somber sheen. he doesn't say anything, thinking hard, and you focus on eating your churro because you've never once found silence with suguru to be uncomfortable.

you are halfway finished when he breaks it.

"well…" suguru's voice is oddly high, a tick of nerves that doesn't usually infiltrate his calm tone. "if there was room for it, what would a good valentine's day look like for you?"

you laugh, loud and unfiltered, and suguru's skin flushes at the sound.

"i don't know!" your laughter dies down into hushed giggles. "i can't think of anything. besides this is stupid as hell!"

"indulge me," he says quietly, and when you turn to look up at him he's staring at you deeply—eyes hooded and smile gone. you suddenly feel oddly parched as heat crawls up your neck.

"um—" you swallow, the churro in your hand forgotten as you glance at the sidewalk again. "i-i'm not sure. i've really never thought that much about it."

"would you want flowers?" he asks. you suddenly become acutely aware that his voice has gone lower, throaty and deep in a way that sends chills up your spine.

you shake your head quietly, somehow nervous to look at him. "it makes me sad that they die off in a few days. better to keep them planted than cut them for a bouquet."

a quiet huff of laughter—fond and nostalgic. "that's on par for you. very in-character."

you lick your lips, tasting the sugar from the treat in your hand. "i guess…maybe i'd like chocolates?"

"chocolates?" suguru repeats, like he's surprised. you don't know why his reaction has you stumbling, but you shake your head quickly, appalled that you're even telling him this in the first place.

"i mean—it's not a big deal or anything! even just a small box of them would do! i don't really care anyway—"

"i would've guessed you'd like a plushie or something along those lines." he hums, a small smile stretching across his face. there's a dust of color blooming across his cheekbones, and you think he looks unfairly charming.

"that's good too!" you reply, too quickly, before catching yourself and ducking your head. "i mean…i don't know. plushies are really cute. i think they'd be a cute gift."

there's a beat of silence, and when you look up suguru is smiling at you like you've just put the stars in the sky for him. he hums to himself, eyes darting around the streets and looking much more at ease than he did a few minutes prior. you find yourself unable to look away.

"what would you want?" the words escape before you can stop them.

"me?" he asks, tilting his head in mild surprise.

"yeah. what would you want for valentine's day?"

suguru blanches, gaze darting over your facial features with shocking speed. it lingers on your eyes, before flickering downward, then shooting back up. you're trying to trace them but they're too fast, and he shuts them before you can process anything. he keeps his eyes closed as you curiously await his answer.

to this day you don't quite understand what he meant.

"anything i can get," he answers with a rueful smile, shaking his head at you fondly. his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. "anything at all.")

a familiar voice tickles your ear amongst the silence even now, and you rub your palms together. you can feel satoru's gaze on you, trailing over your expression—searching, analyzing.

you let him—used to it.

"that's enough of that for now. plus don't the two of you have to go check on the kids today?" shoko asks, eyeing the two of you pointedly. her voice has a strain to it, one that you can only pick up because you've known her so long. but you're grateful for the change in subject as you glance at satoru, who checks his phone.

"ah shit. they should be back from school by now but we were supposed to pick up some groceries beforehand," he mutters under his breath before looking down at you. "you wanna head over there first and i'll go get some stuff?"

"sure," you reply, patting shoko's shoulder in farewell. satoru steps closer, digging into his pockets before dropping the apartment keys into your palm. he pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose, eyes trailing over your face like he's searching for something, and yet you can't make out what.

a beat of silence.

"d-don't forget to get some of those cookies tsumiki said she liked last time." you drop the keys into your bag and shrug off the odd feeling of this conversation—something strange that you don't feel like looking into because you're scared of what you'll find out about yourself.

satoru's eyes go soft, a mixture of somber and affectionate, and he smiles easily. "you got it." he reaches out to ruffle your hair, licking his lips as he heads for the door. "see you later."

you watch him go, and think that you'd rather have him by your side. but you keep that to yourself—so used to sewing your mouth shut.

("which do you want?" you ask satoru, who peers at the shelves over your shoulder. his close proximity does nothing to you, but he seems oddly giddy when he glances at your side profile.

"hmm, the white chocolate," he answers, low and hushed, like it's meant only for you to hear. you can feel the energy radiating off of him—can feel it shake your very soul.

"okay," you reply, reaching up for the box, but satoru beats you to it. he stretches up, towering over you and you shoot him an playful glare. he had gotten a growth spurt over the holidays and wouldn't let you forget it.

"aw this is so sweet of you," he teases, excited and all too pleased. you roll your eyes, hiding a smile.

"you're the one who's been bugging us for valentine's day chocolate."

"like it wasn't a good idea," he counters with a grin. "even if we're all single we should still get chocolate."

you snort in amusement, before turning to call out across the aisle. "suguru which one should i get you?"

the dark haired male meets your gaze, and the warmth of it sends a tickle through your stomach. he shakes his head with a gentle smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "don't worry about it. you know i'm not big on sweets anyway."

you deflate—he smiles at you like he's happy you asked.

"you can give me his share," satoru interjects with a playful smirk, pressing his palm into your shoulder. you shake your head in exasperation.

"no way. i'm still going to get him something." your eyes dart across the shelves, before you reach up and pull down a box of unsweetened chocolates, tied with a red ribbon. "this should be good."

satoru eyes the box, and you glance at him. "suguru would like these right?"

"yeah," he shrugs, before crossing his arms. "as long as they aren't crazy sweet. he hates sweet stuff."

"okay good. then i'll get him these!" your smile stretches wide, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

"you're being awfully thoughtful today," satoru comments. you look at him quickly, quirking a brow.

"well i can't just get you one. you're not my only friend." you shoot back.

satoru grins. "guess that's true."

his arm takes its position around your shoulder as you head towards the counter.

"you were really particular about getting suguru something though. any special reason?" he pipes up, and you immediately go still, looking at him as you try to bite back an uncharacteristic surge of panic.

"of course not! i got something for everyone. i even got shoko the rum and raisin chocolates." you say quickly, fighting the urge to crumble under satoru's implications. "besides this was all your idea anyway!"

you dig into your wallet, pulling out exact change and smiling at the cashier, who puts all of your chocolates into a bag. you decide you'll gift them later, when you're in the comfort of the dorm.

"okay let's leave—" you pause when you turn around, breath catching.

because satoru is staring at you, an odd expression on his face. there's something behind his eyes—realization mixed with another emotion you can't quite place.

you're not sure if the expression excites you or scares you.)

you don't expect tsumiki to be so excited when you push open the door. she bounds out of her small bedroom, practically tripping over herself as she chants your name over excited giggles.

"hey kiddo, how was school?" you smile as she throws her arms around your waist. you pat her hair, making a mental note to take her for a haircut sometime soon.

"good! my friends gave me some chocolates today!" she's giddy as she says this, and you smile playfully.

"oh yeah? any boys?"

she immediately flusters at your quirked brow and teasing grin. "of course not!"

you laugh, patting her head again as you take a seat on the couch. "okay okay! where's your brother?"

you don't see the dark haired nine-year-old anywhere. normally he'd be doing his homework at the kitchen table—so much more diligent than you ever were at that age.

"he's in his room," tsumiki answers, and your eyes catch the sneaky bit of amusement in her face.

"doing what?" you ask curiously. she smothers a smile, shrugging.

"i'm not sure." she raises her voice to call out. "megumi! she's here!"

you can hear him grumbling down the hall, hear his little footsteps padding across the floor—affection swells within you.

you think back to the day satoru dragged you to meet him, and you internally remind yourself to thank him.

"hey gumi." you offer the kid a smile, though it falters when you notice the way his hands are hiding behind his back even as he mumbles a quiet greeting in return. "what's wrong?"

"i…" his voice catches, and you notice the heavy pink flush crawling up his neck and into his cheeks. "i just wanted to…"

he trails off again, and tsumiki nudges him discreetly. "just do it!" she whispers, not all that quietly. your eyes dart between them in confusion, and megumi tries to sink into his sweater's collar.

"megumi what's wrong? are you okay?" there's a note of concern you can't keep from your voice, and tsumiki gently pushes him closer to you. "did something happen?"

"no…" he mumbles, attempting to hide his face even more. "i just wanted to…give…"

you blink owlishly. "give…?"

megumi lets out an exasperated huff, brows pinching helplessly before thrusting his arms into your line of sight. "here!"

your lips part. in his little hands are a box of chocolates and a small stuffed bear.

"this is…" you trail off, taking them from his hands.

"he wanted to give you something for valentine's day! to show you how much he appreciates you!" tsumiki interjects, practically bouncing on her feet.

"no i didn't! it's just chocolates stop making it sound like such a big deal!" megumi immediately snaps, glaring at his sister. you can practically see his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you think you will never stop caring for this kid. there's a tickle of a distant memory—small fists clenched around a backpack and deep green eyes that stare up at you in childish apprehension.

those same green eyes now sneak glances at you, assessing your reaction, and you decide to put him out of his misery.

"this is so sweet megumi. thank you!" you smile at him gratefully, touched beyond recognition. your heart swells with affection once more.

megumi shoves his hands into his pockets, a stubborn pout on his face that makes the fat of his cheeks look that much more endearing. "whatever, it's not a big deal."

tsumiki shoots him a glare, before turning to you with a wide smile. "he says that but he was really excited to get you something!"

megumi gapes at her, eyes going wide in betrayal before they narrow. "shut up! besides it was gojo-san who gave me the idea!"

you blink, before smiling somewhat gingerly. though there is a strange sort of satisfaction in you when you hear those words—the mention of satoru's name. as detached as he tries to remain, you know all too well how much more there is to his character.

"i thought gojo-san would suggest flowers," tsumiki ponders, reaching out to squish the little bear before looking at you curiously. "aren't flowers a typical gift to get someone for valentine's day?"

you shrug, smiling carelessly. "i guess so. but i'm glad he didn't because i don't really like flowe—"

it hits you. echoes of a conversation that occurred many many winters ago. it washes over you, a refreshing tide that cools your skin and tickles your face.

of course, it made sense now that you thought about it. there were no secrets between satoru and suguru after all.

a chime cuts through the silence. you glance down at your phone to see a casual text from the snowy haired wonderboy who has been by your side since the beginning, and you can't help but smile.

i'll be home in a minute :P

a promise that has remained constant all these years.

so you type back.

hurry back. waiting for you.

you smile to yourself, heart thudding heavily against your ribcage. "hm."

tsumiki quirks a brow. "what?"

"nothing," you shake your head, wetting your lips as you reach down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. she smiles at you, stars in her eyes, and you think you'll remember that smile forever. "i was just thinking."

"about what?" megumi can't stop the curiosity from seeping into his voice as he peers at you. you grin, gently patting his head with the bear plushie and laughing when he swats you away.

"valentine's day," you answer, smiling at them as you stand up to head to the door. you already know who's about to knock. "i was just thinking that it's not too bad of a holiday."

978 notes · View notes

rosiesmuts · 8 months

Text

Dangerous Game

Twice Sana ft. Nayeon

Words: 4,400

A/N: Sana hella hot doe

Nayeon is sick and tired of Sana bragging about her blowjob skills yet again.

"And then," Sana says, waving her hands as she recounts her latest sexual conquest. "He came, like, everywhere. All over my face. My tits. My stomach. I swear I was just covered in cum."

"You're so fucking disgusting," Nayeon replies. "Seriously, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" Sana chirps. "It's not my fault guys just explode when I suck their dick."

Nayeon groans,"I'm really sick of hearing about how great you think you are at giving head. I bet I'm just as good as you are."

"I doubt it," Sana says, shrugging.

"Bet."

"Fine. Let's bet, loser has to do whatever the winner asks. But how are we gonna prove it?"

"I bet Oppa is game. He's waiting for me to come home. Technically he's the best person to judge."

"Are you crazy? I'm not gonna suck your boyfriend's cock."

"Aww, scared you'll lose?"

"Fine I'll do it, but don't get mad if he falls in love with me."

"I think I'll survive." Nayeon kept up a strong face, but as per usual, she got too caught up in winning an argument. She didn't actually think Sana would actually follow through on this, but sure enough, Sana followed her into the cab.

You hear the sound of your door creaking open. "Nayeon, is that you?"

"Yea! Sana's here too by the way!"

She must've had too much to drink and was crashing over again. A sigh escapes as you get up to greet the two crazy women.

"Here Sana, you left your pajamas last time, you can sleep in these."

"Oh what's the rush Oppa? Don't you want to have a little fun?" Sana teases you, running her finger up and down your chest.

"You're drunk Sana. Go to bed."

"Oh I'm not drunk at all Oppa. Nayeon brought me back here to suck your cock." She says in the most casual tone, like this was an everyday occurrence.

Your mind races. You can't deny that you've fantasized about Sana before. She's constantly talking about how she gives the best head in the world. But you've never taken her seriously, and you didn't want to ruin your relationship with Nayeon by actually testing the theory.

"What the fuck?" You yell at Nayeon.

"Look," Nayeon starts. "She's just been bragging so much about her fucking amazing skills. I told her to prove she was better than me, and who else would know besides you. It's the perfect solution."

You can't believe the words coming out of her mouth. This had to be a dream. But you know Nayeon is the type of girl who sticks her foot in her mouth. This is real. You can't hide the shock on your face.

"I thought she'd back down, but she's pretty set on doing it."

"Oppa, can I please suck your cock? Pretty please?" Sana pleads. Her eyes are begging.

"Um..." The decision doesn't seem difficult from her perspective, but your heart is pounding like it's a life or death situation.

Without a moment to respond, Sana is already leading you to the couch. In one swift move, she sinks onto her knees, making easy work of your sweatpants, sliding them off completely in a moment. The fabric pools at your ankles as Sana nuzzles her face into your underwear. She eagerly presses her cheek and chin into your groin. You've always appreciated her bubbly, round face, but it takes on an extra definition as it's cradled by your crotch.

She leans back for a moment and you can feel her fingers stroking your cock over your briefs, her eyes filled with childlike glee as they bounce around. Sana licks the front of your underwear and moans with delight as she gets a first taste.

Her slender hands hook into the waistband and gingerly slide it down, holding you steady by the shaft.

"Oppa, it's bigger than I thought." Sana giggles before planting an almost innocent kiss onto the head of your dick.

"What's wrong Sana, don't think you can handle it?" Nayeon scoffs as she plops onto the other end of the couch, her feet tucked into her black skirt.

Sana shoots Nayeon a glare, "Size isn't an issue my dear Nabongs. It's just I haven't really done anything yet and he's so hard already. I love how eager he's being for me."

She emphasizes her last word by rubbing her fingers up your thigh, ending at the base of your shaft, keeping it as straight as possible while her mouth hovers inches above.

"Just suck his cock, I'm not here to watch you talk," Nayeon commands.

"Now, now what's the rush Nayeon?" Sana teases while her hands reach under her shirt and into her bra, tossing them over her shoulder. You're left slack jawed, Sana's cute perky tits previously only a dream. But now they're here, in front of you. She's here, in front of you.

"What's wrong, Oppa?" she whispers "You're acting like you've never seen a pair of tits before." She teases, knowing they're bigger than Nayeon's.

"Do you wanna play with them? It's okay. Here." She pulls your hands towards her, allowing you to squeeze her soft tits.

Your gaze remains locked onto her breasts, unable to fully take in the surreal situation. One second they were out, in a teasing peek and next, you were grasping them like an overeager schoolboy.

"I thought this was about sucking cock Sana."

"Oh Oppa, she's so impatient," Sana whines, "doesn't she know a great blowjob isn't just about sucking cock. It's about the whole experience." Sana teases, placing your cock in-between her breasts, jiggling the skin, stroking you, providing sweet warmth as your tip peaks through with every movement.

"Fuck Sana..."

"Do you like that? Do you like my tits rubbing all over your big hard cock? It's okay if you do."

Nayeon is staring from the corner of your eye. "You're going to have to try harder than that to beat me," she sneers.

"See, he likes it. Isn't that right Oppa?" Sana ignores, bouncing her tits on your cock. "Doesn't that feel nice?" Sana beams at your disheveled face, pleased at your helpless reaction to her tits.

"Mmm, that's so hot, Oppa. It feels so warm sliding up and down." She interlocks her hands together, squeezing her tits together. Her tits aren't big enough to fully cover you, but it's just enough. Your cock presses into the valley of her cleavage as she starts fucking them against you, and a sight unlike any other. Sana has been teasing Nayeon this whole time but when she says those last few words, the sneer and confidence falls off her face, turning into an unadulterated gape.

Her tongue sticks out, licking the tip whenever it pops up from her squishy embrace. "Mmm, Oppa, I can taste you already." Sana kisses your slit with a hungry moan, letting some saliva drip down her chin and onto the space between her breast.

"Uggh. Can you fucking suck it already." You can hear the impatience in Nayeon's tone, finally losing all pretense and sincerity.

"This is just an appetizer," Sana interjects, stopping her jerking movements. A smirk on her lips and and naughty look emerges on her face.

"Oh my god Oppa, I can't believe how wet I am. Look." She slips a hand into her pants, and then takes it out, her fingers glistening with her juices. You look down, seeing your cock still poking up from between her tits, but also her fingers, coated with her juices.

"Here have a taste."Sana brings her index and middle finger to your mouth, gently pushing the liquid inside, tracing your lips as you gulp down her arousal.

She squeals in joy. "Oh Oppa, how naughty of you. Do you like the way I taste, hmm?" Her voice coos, watching your reactions. It's like you're drunk, entranced by the sight before you, stuck in a euphoric daze. Sana's so fucking sexy it makes you wonder if there is any woman alive that could top this.

"Come on Sana, quit fucking around." Nayeon sighs with annoyance.

"Silly, silly Nayeon, the key is making them beg. Don't you want Oppa begging for it?" Sana giggles.

"If there's not some cock sucking action I'm gonna declare myself as the winner."

"So impatient. Ok Oppa, let's give Nayeonie a show she won't forget." Sana gets back between your legs and takes a deep breath, inhaling your musk.

"Oh my god, Oppa, your scent is so intoxicating." Her hot breath is blowing against your cock. "I can't wait any longer. I need to taste you." She places a kiss on the tip, then another, then another, each time lingering a little longer than the last. The tip of her tongue slides along the sides of your cock as Sana explores with a curious excitement.

Nayeon scowls. "So your fucking blow job is going to be taking all day."

"He's just soooo hard." Sana caresses the throbbing appendage with admiration. Her right hand strokes your inner thigh in long soothing motions, the pads of her fingers tracing lines up and down your tense muscle.

It's slow, torturously slow. Light kisses and licks cover every surface of your cock, the feel of her tongue now a sensation rather than individual touches. Her tongue starts to flick against the underside of your tip, sending a shock through your body. You can feel the warmth of her breath, the pressure of her tongue. Her eye contact is unwavering, rubbing your thighs up and down with her soft hands.

You and Sana are now in your own world. A private space for the two of you, separated by both time and distance.

There's an excruciating pause. The room stills. There's no sounds, no movement. Her eyelashes flutter as she blinks. You're frozen. You can't breath, can't blink. It's an eternity.

The air moves with the slow grace of a dancer as she sucks you between her lips. Her eyes light up when the tip meets her tongue. Sana sighs, relaxing her shoulders. She lets herself get lost, transported by her desire. With the slow rhythm of a slow song, she slowly sinks lower, deeper.

Sana is worshiping your cock, treating it like it's the only one in the world. She's moaning and humming, sending vibrations through your shaft. As great as it feels, there's a special technique about her, knowing exactly how to keep you from cumming. As if she's been with you for years. She reaches for your hands, interlocking your fingers together, making this feel like a tender loving moment rather than just your run of the mill blowjob.

Her eyes remain fixated on yours, never even once breaking focus. It's one continuous moment until she pulls back for breath. A thick, translucent web stretches between the two of you. A dewy layer of spit is now surrounding your cock, dripping off the sides of her lips. You can feel the edges of her lips form a perfect ring as your cock passes between her lips. She is hypnotic, the speed is torture, but it's impossible to stop looking.

She lets you go, slowly inching up until she's next to your ear. "Oppa, can I tell you a secret?" She's whispering, like she's scared Nayeon will hear.

"Sure."

"I really love doing this, especially when it's a cock like yours. I can't wait to make you cum. I can't wait for you to explode in my mouth.

"I can't either."

"But I wanna make you wait a little bit, cause when you finally cum, it's going to be amazing." She trails a string of saliva down from your ear, running her finger past the puddle of spit still leaking off her chin and finally across your balls. She pecks her lips on the underside of the head, all the while looking like a kid about to play with their new toy.

Nayeon hits you. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Um...yeah," You whisper back. You've nearly forgotten she's here.

She seems satisfied at your answer, but it feels weird admitting that in front of her.

Sana's right back into action, your fingers still interlocked so she's using only her mouth. This time she's focusing on the tip, flicking her tongue and sucking on your head.

"Fuck Sana..."

She chuckles, feeling accomplished, her grin big as can be. The two of you resume your rhythm as you grind your cock against her welcoming cheeks. Slowly working her way down the shaft until her mouth is about halfway down. She inhales, breathing deeply, smiling even with her mouth full.

"God, I love your scent." she moans out seductively on her way back up. The hot air of her words permeate and swirl with your sweat. Her pace is further teasing, steady at first then almost playful as she slows and pauses, relishing the torment it has on you. You can feel her tongue working its way down, swirling around your cock. You're so close to bursting, but she knows just when to stop. Her hands pull away, squeezing your balls, ignoring your shaft, focusing all her attention on them. She's cupping them, massaging them, using her tongue on the one not attended by her hands.

Her hot, wet tongue tickles and warms them as she begins sucking and groping, working in unison. Knowing it felt good, but wouldn't cause you to cum. It's a change in tempo, something else to enjoy until it was time again.

"You're gonna be a good boy and hold out until I've shown Nayeon all my skills right?"

"Oh, so he's your new puppy. At least he's useful," Nayeon is curious, testing the waters, seeing how much she can push her.

Her fingers are tracing circles around your balls, sending shivers up your spine. Her other hand is slowly jerking up and down, sizing you up, using her hand to measure your cock.

"I think I can fit you." Sana calmly states, flashing a wink.

"What? What does that mean?" Nayeon yells out.

"Shush, Nayeon, let me concentrate." She tells her off and returns her eyes to you. They're dark and hungry.

Her hands position the tip between her puckered lips. Nayeon stares at the scene unfolding before her, feeling the waves of lust emanating off of Sana. She's got her hands wrapped around your shaft, holding it like a weapon. Your heart races, eyes closed, feeling the pleasure pulse.

You feel a rush, an impending doom, but one you welcome. A moment of heaven, a moment of hell, it doesn't matter to you. Lower and lower she goes, only a couple inches in and you're already overwhelmed. A surreal bliss radiates, filling your mind with an unbelievable pleasure.

There's moaning and slurping, the sound of her muffled voice vibrating through you. She's going further, inch by inch, her eyes locked with yours, fitting more of your cock into her throat every time she goes back down.

Her pace remains the same as ever, steady and sure. A thrust in, followed by a drag out. Up and down, the same torturous speed, letting the sensation flow through your entire body. There's a smug grin, prideful smile, confident in herself. Her hands roaming your inner thighs, content with her conquest, basking in it.

Nayeon stares, but with a different emotion. You feel the heat of her gaze, the anger behind them.

"It's not possible. His dick is way too big. It'll never fit. I've never even been able to-"

"Hush, Nayeon, we're not talking about you right now." She chides. Her voice is softer, kinder, the commanding tone dropping slightly.

Sana's pace quickens, the sound of her gagging and choking fills the room. Drool is dripping down her chin, and she's going faster and faster. Her nails dig into your thighs, her eyes tearing up as she forces her mouth all the way down. Her cheeks are puffed up and bulging, her neck stretches out.

"Holy shit, Sana." Nayeon jumps out of her seat, her eyes wide.

"Holy shit," you echo, feeling her sharp pointed nose tickling pressing into you.

Her tongue is jittering from the girth filling her mouth, sending wonderful vibrations through you. There's a grunt, she's struggling, straining. Sana holds it there for what seems like forever. Your cock is being squeezed by her throat, and you can feel every breath, every twitch, every swallow. After an eternity, she slides back up, and releases your cock from her throat. A string of spit and precum follows, breaking as she licks her lips. Sana looks pleased with herself, savoring the sight before her.

"Holy fucking shit," Nayeon can't hide the shock, can't help but step closer to get a better look at the ridiculous sight.

"I told you size wouldn't be an issue." Sana winks at Nayeon.

Nayeon scoffs, folding her arms in annoyance.

"Oh Oppa, do you like seeing Nayeon pout? That's such a cute look on her."

There's a few minutes of respite, Sana sucking you down every once in a while but nothing more. It gives you a chance to breathe, a moment to process. The image before you is difficult to process, as if you're having an out of body experience.

"Let me try again. It'll be easier the second time." She's not lying. The next time is even smoother. Her throat is slick with spit and precum, and your cock slides in like a knife through butter. There's sucking and slurping, coating your cock with her saliva. She's going up and down, over and over, and the pleasure is insane.

It's not like she doesn't have a gag reflex, she's using it to her advantage. She's gagging on your cock, spit leaking everywhere, the sounds of her throat a sinful delight. After taking a deep breath her head becomes a blur going faster and faster. Your cock is disappearing and reappearing, over and over again. You can't believe the sight before you. Sana, the picture perfect idol, is deepthroating your cock, gagging and choking herself over and over. Her hands have abandoned you, caressing her throat, stroking where you cock is pushing her insides outward.

She looks up at you with her pretty, innocent eyes. The term cutie sexy starts to make sense, so adorable, yet obscene, like an angel became a slut. You're groaning, and panting, stuck in an endless maze of pleasure.

She's drooling, saliva dripping down your balls to her chin, not even bothering to wipe her mouth. She just keeps bobbing her head up and down, faster and faster, moaning like a pornstar. You can see tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Your cock is throbbing and twitching. You're on the precipice of climax. You can't hold it back any longer.

She brings her mouth up, making a loud pop as she slips you out of her lips. "Oh no Oppa, you can't cum yet. Not until I've showed off all my skills to Nayeon." holding your cock in her hand and slapping it against her tongue.

"What are you doing?" Nayeon questions her, unsure on what else Sana has to show.

"Shush Nayeon, It's only the second round, and I promised Oppa three. This one is my favorite." She coos to you, sweetly kissing your tip.

"Stand up Oppa." You stand before her, looking down on her beautiful messy face. She places your hands on her head.

"Do you wanna fuck my mouth, Oppa?" Sana teases. "Here, grab my hair and shove it in."

You're stunned. This is all happening so fast.

"Come on Oppa, fuck my mouth." She takes your cock back into her mouth, and you feel the pressure from her hands pulling you forward.

There's hesitation on your side, a lingering reservation, a fear of overdoing it. You're a bit unsure, you've never been deepthroated before, yet alone fucked someone's face. You're afraid to hurt her.

Her lips curl upward, smiling like an eager puppy, letting your cock rest, leaving you suspended. With your grip still on her head, Sana waits for you.

"Come on Oppa," Nayeon snarls, "stop being such a pussy. You know she can take it. She just swallowed your whole damn cock in one go. Stop being a little bitch and fuck her face."

You thrust forward, and immediately the pleasure is overwhelming. Her hands are still pushing, and now your hands are pulling. You're thrusting and pulling, fucking her face. The feeling is unlike anything you've felt before. It's wet and sloppy, the sounds of her mouth a depraved melody. Your hips are moving faster and faster, her eyes are wide and full of lust, begging for you to use her.

The reality of the situation sinks in as Sana sucks harder and harder.

You're facefucking Sana. You're fucking an idol with every inch of your hard cock. She's pushing her head into your crotch and you're burying her face.

You're not gentle, you can't be. It's so wet and hot, and the sensation is insane. Her nails are digging into your thighs, and you're grunting and groaning, pounding her throat like an animal. She's slapping her face against your crotch, taking everything you're giving her. She's choking and gagging, drool pouring from her mouth. Her fingers are exploring, stroking the bottom of her throat and her neck.

You're groaning. This is not a blowjob this is something else altogether. Your hands are tight on her head and your mind is hazy. You're so turned on by her. You're mesmerized by her. You can't stop fucking her mouth. She's moaning and crying, but tells you to fuck her harder every time you pull out. You're focused solely on Sana and her perfect mouth. She's not even sucking - just letting you use her mouth as a cocksleeve. Her tongue is flicking over your tip whenever it enters her mouth. And it's so fucking hot.

You're at your limit. You can't hold it in anymore. You're gonna explode. And then Sana wraps her hands around your ass and squeezes, pulling you closer, forcing you to push deeper into her mouth, your balls pressed against her chin.

"Sana, I'm gonna -"

And that's her cue, her throat constricting and contracting, massaging your head while it's buried deep inside. You didn't even know this was possible. Her final trick. Her ace in the hole. A sense of pleasure that previously only existed beyond your wildest dreams. Your body tenses, and then you let go, the hardest orgasm you've ever experienced in your life, mouth or otherwise. The world goes white and the only thing you're aware of is the warmth and wetness of Sana's throat.

Cum explodes into her mouth, filling her up. She can't take it all, it's too much, and she coughs, and chokes. She pulls off, harshly stroking your cock with her hand. You're still cumming, some landing on her face, her tits, in her hair. Your entire body is shaking.

"Fuck," you groan, collapsing onto the couch. She taps on your thighs and opens her mouth, showing you the pool of creamy liquid collected on her tongue.

"Oppa, you came so much!" she says after gulping down the mouthful.

"I swallowed so much and there's still so much on me." She's scooping your cum off her face, licking her fingers clean, moaning with every drop she swallows. Her breasts are covered, and she's gathering as much of it as she can, putting her hands between her legs, scooping up any drops that landed on her thighs. She takes your hand and puts it on her chest, covering her nipple with your cum, rubbing it around her nipple, teasing it with your sticky seed.

"I told you Nayeon! An explosion! Cum everywhere!" Sana winks and teases her with a wag of her tongue.

Nayeon rolls her eyes.

Sana goes back for more, sucking your cock until every last drop has been extracted. She's cleaning you off with her tongue, kissing the head of your cock, and then she's rubbing her face on it, like a cat nuzzling her owner. "Mmm so good," she coos.

"That's enough, you've proven your point."

"Aww, but Nayeon, look how cute he is, all tired and sweaty." Sana pouts, giving your cock one last kiss before getting up.

"Yeah, well, you look like a total slut." Nayeon snaps. "Seriously, you've got cum all over your face, your hair's a mess. Not to mention, there's a fucking puddle of spit on the floor."

"So?"

"So? Do you have any idea what would happen if someone saw you like this?"

"They'd fall in love with me." Sana teases. "Oppa did."

"Don't give me that shit. You know what? Fine, you proved your point. I guess I owe you a favor." Nayeon takes a deep breath and then exhales, bracing herself. "Whatever you want, just do it quick, and don't tell anyone, okay."

"I'm so fucking horny after all of that." She looks at you, then back at Nayeon. "Threesome?" She's fluttering her eyelashes, acting more innocent than she has all evening.

"Th-threesome?" You stammer.

"Of course." Sana says, matter of factly. "You didn't think I was going to leave without taking care of myself did you?"

"Wait a second, I never said I'd do that!"

"Come on, we're both so horny, I'll bet Oppa is hard again just thinking about us making out. I bet he's already got a load saved up. Besides, he's already fucked my throat. How much worse could it get?"

"No! Absolutely not!"

"Please? Please, please, please? Pretty please, Nayeon? Oh, does this help? I swear I have the best pussy around, guys can't help but explode inside of me. Want me to prove it?" She was stripping as she spoke, not a shred of shyness or timidness anywhere to be seen.

"Oppa, look." She moans, sliding her fingers out and showing the string of sticky fluids connected to them. "Look how wet I am. You did this to me. All that talk about cocks and cumming. I'm so fucking horny. And it's all because of you." She slides her fingers back inside, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. "I'm so close to cumming."

"You're the worst." Nayeon snaps, grabbing her hand and pulling it out of her pussy. "Fine, whatever, but only cuz you won the bet. I'm not doing this because I want to."

"I love you, Nayeonie!" Sana squeals, throwing her arms around her friend. "Come on Oppa! Don't leave us hanging. We'll be waiting in your room." Sana grabs her clothes and skips away, leaving Nayeon alone with you.

"This is such bullshit. Why did she have to be so good at that? Ugh.." Nayeon mumbles. "Come on, I don't wanna keep her waiting...."

#sana smut #twice sana smut

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