Like The Sun.
like the sun.
pairing: gojo satoru + reader
summary: satoru’s presence reminds you of the sun. like helios, the sun god, you attributed.
warnings: kind of enemies to lovers? reader is a year older than gojo, angst (my fav :3), little cameo from geto. gojo is (secretly) so down bad, mention of violence, blood, and anything of those sorts. also set before geto’s defection.
word count: 7.2k
a/n: i am back from my writing slump! i was (very) burnt out from my last fic, but i think my spark is back :) i’ve mentioned this kind of plot once or twice before, so i NEEDEDDD to write it out to satisfy my head <333 hope you lovelies enjoy!
i. blaze.
there’s a peculiar thing about heat.
summer sun is nearly unbearable, and yet you’re tempted to stay under it’s scorching glare longer. an enigma, because, in all honestly, your body felt like it could give out in any moment. the white cotton shirt was rather suffocating. it’s too close to skin, battling the weather for a more overwhelming presence. unnatural and stiff, arms raise, and it’s only with the most futile attempt that you stretch out sore limbs while simultaneously trying to catch your breath.
slight relief is given with small gusts of refreshing wind. limited by it’s lack of strength, but it does it’s purpose in cooling you off. morning training was preferable. it was less brutal — and more importantly, it saved you the trouble of having to spar with an immortal. he never woke up early enough.
an immortal, jokingly, because you’ve never been able to land a meaningful hit on him.
“where’d you get that?”
your arms pause, stilling from their position above your head. he’d granted you a small break. ‘generously,’ as he had put it. after two hours of exerting yourself, you’d grown to become indifferent to the absence of fatigue on his face.
a finger is pointed towards your side, eyes blue and curious, gaze almost as blunt as his tone. the slightest exposure of skin is shown, shirt lifted from your previous movements, and his eyes remained fixed upon you. expression unreadable, a smile oddly lacking. it makes you a little self-conscious, and you reach to pull the fabric back down.
“scar.” you dryly answer, resorting to turning away, contorting your back to hear a small ‘crack!’
blue still penetrates you. it watches, carefully.
“looked pretty big.”
you bite your cheek, sparing him a side glance.
“it’s old.”
he doesn’t miss a beat. he never really does.
“how old?”
a small huff escapes your dehydrated lips, and your brows furrow.
“got it last year.”
before you knew him, to be clearer. you’d elaborate, make it known, but your chest stings of exhaustion, and the sun is, again, too hot.
truthfully, your response fails to provide satoru with satisfaction, and you can tell that he’s got a few more questions (or a million) to ask. but he keeps his mouth shut, and nods in simple understanding. you only watch as he straightens his posture, and a smile — notably, grazing his lips with some strange hesitation — shows up once more.
“break’s over.”
•••
you’re introduced to gojo satoru during your second year at jujustu high. it was like a chunk of the literal sun (something you’d reiterated was so distasteful and unpleasant to be under, yet strangely captivating) had been taken and left on earth, blazing with desire, and legitimately brighter than everything else around it. like helios, you attributed. a sun god.
an anomaly in your vision, only a few doors down from you.
he was unbearable.
if arrogance could conjure itself into a person — if all the annoyance in the world could simultaneously join at once — it’d create him. the product of too many bad things.
and of course, you’d expected his arrival. it felt like the only subject of your entire first year — the legend, the “honored” one. for him to attend your school grounds the following semester, and to truly give the universe a glimpse into his true power.
because what was he really capable of?
“again, too slow.”
you’d come to accept an unfortunate feat of failure.
swept off your feet by nothing but air (and a forceful kick), gravity pulls you back down, and you hiss as your back hits the floor. your head almost collides with it, but a nudge to your side reminds you to keep it lifted. in retrospect, it’s thoughtful, but you nearly glare.
you can feel where you’ll be sore tomorrow. it stings just a little too much for comfort, and your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip to suppress the ache.
a body so regularly bruised, you’re surprised the injuries themselves haven’t come to life and begged you to stop moving.
satoru stands above you, a white collared long-sleeve accentuating his pale features. linen, almost. it’s a bit see-through, and it shines nicely through the rays behind him. his darkly tinted glasses rest upon his face. they sit a little below his nose.
blue peeks out.
“god, yaga wasn’t kidding.”
he sounds almost bored. with the privilege of being so careless, so relaxed and expectant, he raises a brow at your silence and nudges you once more.
it’s quietly humiliating. a cycle that continues, until you’ve had enough and choose to end the embarrassment. satoru’s pliant, always awaiting your call. because, simply, he can do that.
slowly, you blink, looking up to meet his partially covered eyes.
they used to scare you. not from intimidation or general nerves, but because they were vibrant. deeper than ocean’s water, a shade unlike anything humane. it puts a greater boarder in between the two of you. a stronger picket fence.
you know that if you ask, you won’t like the answer. but the pitying, mocking smile satoru has is getting under your skin, so you breathe a small, “what?”
satoru’s smug.
you watch as he whistles and looks off to the side, temporarily ignoring you.
and then, he shrugs nonchalantly.
“nothing.”
your eyes narrow. you can feel your annoyance bubbling, and it threatens to tip over, but you shake your head in retaliation.
“okay.”
it’s a trap, you know it’s a trap, because satoru’s head perks up, and he looks at you questionably.
“you don’t want to know?”
your eyes roll, so severely you momentarily feel a little twinge of pain.
“no, i’m good.”
and you ignore his out-reached hand, getting off the floor by yourself.
you’re tired.
it’s well past noon. another afternoon of seemingly pointless training because suguru and shoko had been out on a mission, leaving you alone once more with the embodiment of your nightmares.
you were tempted to complain to yaga, but knowing his twisted ways of teaching, it’d probably only land you more time with him.
unfair.
“not even a little curious?”
ignoring him was difficult. you’ve become too accustomed with sarcasm, and it’s sickly rewarding to see his face fall to pieces, because he’s everything and perfect. infuriatingly so.
“no, leave me alone.” your voice holds some annoyance now, and you’re still hearing his footsteps behind yours as you make your way inside the dormitories.
it’s like clockwork. so expected, you can’t find it in you to tell satoru to actually leave.
he’s never listened to you anyways.
upon reaching your door, you slowly let yourself in, and are unable to act surprised when you fail to hear it shut behind you. you can already picture the sight of his foot nudged in between the crack. you pay no mind, placing your weapon against the wall, and are forced to take a seat at your desk because of the unwelcomed guest who, suddenly, lays on your bed. like usual. peering up at you, a boyish smile illuminating such delicate features.
“what’s on today’s agenda?”
he speaks like that pretty often.
insinuating a we, us, our — as if the two of you are halves that make a whole, and are practically inseparable despite your clear discomfort. unwillingness, too.
“i,” you emphasize, glancing at him. “am going out.”
he’s pouting, you know before you even look at him again.
“where?”
you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, sighing softly. he’s like a baby duckling.
“i have a meeting with yaga, but he’s stuck at kyoto right now. i’m seeing him there.”
you watch as satoru’s head pokes up. for a sliver of time, he looks a little unsure, which is unlike his normal self, who speaks absentmindedly. and for that solid reason, you get the slightest ounce of concern. but you mask it, because heaven and earth both know the burden of his awareness.
“can’t be super important.”
your brow raises, and you scoff softly.
“not sure yet.”
silence seems to bother satoru, you’ve learned. he enjoys speaking, generally taking up time that isn’t righteously his. it’s a habit, one clearly too strong to break. entitlement.
but he speaks because he loves the interaction.
(specifically, he loves talking to you.)
and satoru isn’t stupid — he’s far from it. he’s able to read you well enough to know that he’s slightly wounded you. not too far from offense, though he’s able to see how fidgety you get as a result. he needs to learn how to shut up.
“i noticed you were slower today.”
spoken plainly. and you’re not looking at him when he says it, unable to spot the way he swallows thickly afterwards.
words spew out. there’s not much to talk about, you reason. you repeat that a million times in your head, only opening your mouth to respond when you’re sure it won’t be mean. too rash, and you’re positive the conversation would go a different way.
you shrug, looking at the floor.
“i was tired.”
it feels like the wrong to say. and satoru quickly proves your gut right.
“you’re always tired.”
his bluntness is weirdly shocking, which is the only reason why a small laugh escapes your lips. for a moment, you’re not sure how else to respond — what a sensible response would sound like. but you’re used to his antics, and it’s only a further reminder to keep your composure.
“well, you’re not exactly easy competition.”
you’re speaking lightheartedly, a bit of humor hidden in your voice. and though you feel rather pitiful to be using his abilities as an excuse, you tell yourself it’s a genuine reason.
but satoru is aware. he’s more than aware. he breathes the fact like air itself, because it’s been shoved down his throat since before he’s been able to even understand it.
he’s aware.
“but you’re not trying, either.”
at that, your body stills.
satoru isn’t smiling with you. and he’s not teasing, you finally realize. he’s being serious. but satoru has never been mean. he’s conceited, yes, but mean? you wouldn’t count his teasing as it, and he’s never gone farther than repetitive little jokes.
“what?” and you suppose you’re dumbfounded from disbelief, because your throat feels a little dry, and the forced smile on your face falls slightly. it twinges, unsure of how to read the situation.
“you’re not trying, i said.”
“no, no, i heard you.” you wave a hand, words quiet as you cough awkwardly. “i just… wasn’t expecting that.”
you feel a little dramatic. the tips of your ears burn, and embarrassment lingers across your skin. the floor is suddenly the most interesting thing in the room, and you wonder if he’s aware of the heightened effect those words sound coming from him. you’re uncomfortable.
“someone had to tell you eventually.” and this time satoru is the one who shrugs, peacefully laying back against your pillows as if he’d done something dutiful — like he was worthy of some sort of praise. “it’s noticeable.”
he’s never managed to leave you at a loss words. you’re normally quick with rebuttals, regularly despising the thought of him thinking he’s escaped bickering with you as a victor.
so your silence feels daunting, and you’re both equally as aware of it’s significance.
satoru jumps over your picket fence sometimes. as if breaking a fourth wall into your mind, and latching on to something more sour and unkept. he brings out emotions that are more real, and his honesty bruises your insides until they feel as sore as your own physical body. it’s daunting, and another testament of his uniqueness.
“thanks.” you finally mutter, awkwardly looking to the side to avoid his overall perception. “i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
satoru is like a brick wall. or, realistically, just some form of indestructible material. that fact alone should push you towards improvement. it should be a motivator. but when you train alongside him (albeit, rarely), you’re reminded of your naiveness from a mere year ago.
expectations should be kept low at all costs. it makes disappointment easier. jujustu brought upon the worst scenarios, and you’ve slowly learned to not grow attachments, or be too positive. because that’s what truly kills.
but, satoru. meeting satoru was like a fresh breath of air. everything about him was true, and even then he superseded his initial description. he’s more careless with his desires, nonchalant about limits. indulging in advice wasn’t him. he simply didn’t do it, taking his own word against others.
the dorm bed creaks, and you watch as he leisurely stands up, casual and quiet.
“well, just so you know,” his fingers tap against the door frame, and he lets himself back in, just by a tiny bit.
he pauses. hesitant again.
but this time, his voice comes out a bit louder. confidence declared. and you’re unaware that the tone is somewhat forced.
“yaga said you’re pretty weak. told me and suguru to go easy on you while sparing.”
the door shuts behind him.
•••
ii. taunt.
during the first week of your third year, a mission is assigned to you by jujustu tech.
well — not assigned, per say, but dutifully given.
by your compliance, and your raised hand in yaga’s office.
“i’ll take it.”
it’s immediate, and you ignore the stares from around the room. you don’t falter, looking to yaga expectantly. he’s a stern man. difficult to read, but easy to understand. he acts with logic, and is genuinely a respectable teacher at heart.
and yet you figure that he’s some form of evil, because he looks up from his paperwork, and replies with, “satoru will accompany you.”
as if he didn’t need to think twice, and the sound of your voice was enough to cement the decision.
your eyes narrow distastefully, though you don’t verbalize your exasperation. the subject of the matter is beside you, and you can feel that he’s watching your expression, but when yaga hands you both individual papers, any words he’s tempted to say die down. you’re sure you’ve made your feelings clear.
it’s another ten minutes of boring, long reminders before all of you are excused, and you’re sure your feet have never been quicker as you attempt to escape the mere vicinity of the room. your shoes click against the floor, and you feel others right behind you. irritatingly familiar.
“woah, woah, woah, slow down!”
an arm throws itself over your shoulders, and it’s difficult to not buckle under the sudden weight, a groan leaving you as you push back slightly.
the past year had only provided him with more confidence, and a stronger need to bother you at all times.
“first mission together!” satoru grins, waving his paper in your face gleefully. the excitement is obviously one-sided, but that seems to only fuel his amusement more.
your eyes shut tightly, and you sigh.
“a…” satoru ignores you, eyes scanning his paper, humming softly before a dramatic gasp leaves his lips. he leans into you a bit more. “grade one! that should be fun.”
and suddenly, his addition makes sense.
in jujustu ranking, you were still considered a grade two sorcerer. satoru soars higher, like he always has, and had surpassed you mere weeks after his initial arrival. expected, but still a little irrationally irritating.
“just leave it to me.” he waves his free hand that’s still over your shoulder. “i’m probably better fit to fight against it anyway.”
you wonder how much trouble you’d get into if you hit him in the face. you’ve thought about it more times than you could count. in present, it’s a near losing battle, and you only relent because he lets go of you at just the right moment.
realistically, it’d be nice of satoru to be more considerate. you disliked the passive aggressive comments, and can’t seem to understand why he’s always made them when you’ve never said or done anything to earn the taunting quips.
it’s his humor, you’ve heard, though it never feels as degrading when it’s directed at someone else.
you’ve tried your hardest to tolerate satoru over the past year, after realizing it was futile to be completely friendly. but you suppose he holds up his own barrier at times. you’re only given the leisure of peeking over, never getting the will to jump across. that’s another skill only he has mastered.
“meet here at nine tomorrow.” he smiles, carefree as he stops in front of you, halting your path. he pays no mind to your raised brow and crossed arms, adjusting his glasses so they sit higher on his face. “then we can leave, and hopefully we’ll be back pretty early.”
confused and still irritated, you shake your head in confusion.
“wouldn’t we be back early if we just… left earlier?”
satoru’s face sours, and a clear glimpse of his adolescent mind shows through when he shakes his head.
“nah.”
you don’t have the energy to argue over how idiotic he sounds, so you nod in agreement, and rub your temples deeply. it would be a long day, you’re sure, but nothing new his antics haven’t already trained you for.
“noon, then.” you mutter, taking one last look at him.
the air feels a little tense.
you nearly bite your tongue, debating on letting some additional comments fly out. but watching his demeanor (the pure nonchalance) frustrates you, and your eyes narrow.
“you know, i could probably take it on too. by myself.”
satoru stills.
it had been bubbling in your head since you’d left yaga’s office. clearly, as satoru notices the lack of regret on your face. it’s spoken like fact.
if it had been utahime beside him, saying those exact words, he thinks he might’ve laughed.
but in your case, it just feels different.
“well,” he pauses, and you know that you’ve truly caught him off-guard. his eyes trail over your face, and he almost expects you to cower a bit. it never comes. he’s shaking his head, shaking his thoughts, and his eyes find your again, voice softer. “it’s a two-person mission. so, tough luck.”
his smile returns. as if uninterrupted, and ’normal.’
satoru has a habit of suppressing his thoughts.
your eyes roll, ignorant to his inner conflict, and you ask — when will he take you seriously?
privileged in every aspect, and not one ounce humble. but really, he could do whatever he pleases. the world can’t stop him.
satoru shines brightly at you, blinding nearly. helios must be jealous.
•••
“he’s a lot to handle.”
it smells like smoke. bothersome to your worsening headache, but the open window is the only thing keeping your senses at bay.
shoko’s a bad influence, you’ve learned. ashes are regularly spotted on school grounds, the culprit being nearly the same every time. but she’d roped another into her habits, so pinning the blame was harder to do.
your eyes follow the cigarette in suguru’s hand as he exhales once more.
“you think?” it comes off as more bitter than sarcastic, and you’re annoyingly aware of the small smile that appears on his face. gray clouds around him momentarily, sculpting sharper eyes as they narrow in amusement.
“what did he tell you?”
you blink, tilting your head in confusion, silently asking for some clarification. suguru’s eyebrows raise, and he snickers.
“he said something to piss you off. what was it?”
you weren’t sure what the impression would be when you knocked on his door an hour ago. you weren’t even sure why you did it.
maybe it was because suguru was easy to talk to. a good listener, most definitely. and though he’s assumably been a cog in your self-depreciation, you can’t bring yourself to be upset at him too.
“um,” you pause. it weirdly bothers you that he’s right. that he’s able to read exactly what’s wrong, because either he knows you or satoru too well, or it’s both.
suguru stares, patiently. and there is no implication on his face that reads a, ‘knew it.’ he just simply awaits your words.
he’s a gentle soul, coaxing out fragile insides.
“well,” you breathe, rubbing your hands over your knees. it was aggravating, the small sense of discomfort you felt while reliving words that really shouldn’t matter as much as they do. it briefly holds your tongue, and you feel silly for making it this big of a deal in your head. suguru isn’t judgemental though, and you know that. it’s the only reason why telling him doesn’t feel like a bad thing.
“he basically said that yaga thinks i’m… weak.”
the silence that takes over the room is a little daunting, and throws away all confidence you had with suguru out the smoke-ridden window.
you wait for a laugh, a grimace — anything. but nothing every really comes. it’s only a huff of acknowledgement.
“ah.”
no surprise, no disdainful reaction. his smile stays intact.
you’d argue that suguru carried more wisdom than you’d ever be able to acquire. beyond his own years, it seemed. it was something about his aura, or just the way he carried himself. strangely, inhumanly graceful.
he looks to you, and there’s a glint in his eye that tells you something is aloof.
“what?” you impatiently ask, brows furrowing. his lack of response had begun to bother you, nerves etching across your bones.
another long puff causes you to turn your face away from him entirely, and you wince as the smell of smoke momentarily intensifies. it escapes out the window (once more) with the added effort of your ushering hands. suguru watches you for a bit, laughing a little, though ultimately sighs with a soft snicker.
“yaga never said that.”
for a second, you think that the lack of clean air has tainted your brain, and that you’ve misheard him.
the information settles in the air for a while. lingering, up until you’ve found a proper way to deal with it.
“seriously?”
the look on your face makes suguru want to laugh again, but he merely nods, sitting a bit straighter in his chair.
“yup.”
you have questions — a majority you know that suguru can’t really answer, so you minimize them into the broadest form, sighing softly, a little defeatedly.
“why would he say that, then?”
suguru hums, lifting a finger to his chin as he shrugs. “he might’ve thought it would push you more.”
your eyes narrow, and you click your tongue in annoyance. “that’s stupid.”
your cheeks warm a little as you register suguru leaning in, a sly smile on his face, his eyes shining with a bit of mischief.
“well, it bothered you, didn’t it?”
now, that felt kinda humiliating to admit. and you’re sure your face gives your thoughts away, so you nod, an easy admission.
“yeah.” you breathe, sighing. “it did.”
what you want to say, is that it bothered you that satoru said it.
his opinion, frustratingly, was something you heavily valued. no matter how many times he’s belittled you, or been generally arrogant. you stupidly seek his sunlight, his approval, and wish to always be under his rays.
“okay.” he raises his brows, staring. “then show him on your mission tomorrow. don’t let him interfere, and kick some ass by yourself.”
your eyes widen, barely, but suguru notices, and purses his lips. in comparison to each other, you’ve always found suguru to be the more sensible one. he prioritized rules, only really breaking them if satoru begged him to.
“you have more experience now.” and he’s unable to hide his wandering eyes as they find the hem of your shirt, as if perfectly picturing the damaged skin underneath. you’d opened up about the scar a few months ago, the first year’s backing you into a corner. satoru had been the most adamant to know. “it’ll be different.”
you don’t give much of an answer, a simple nod conveying your inner-conflict.
suguru watches, your eyes squinting in confusion as you shake your head. you utter your next question, and he has to hide his amusement.
“why does satoru dislike me so much? what did i ever do to him?”
suguru thinks you and satoru are intelligent in your own ways.
and then, at times like these, he believes he’s never met two people so incredibly dense.
silence, and an all-knowing smile is the only answer you receive.
•••
it could be wrong. it is wrong. dangerous, deviant, and stupid.
but despite all these bad thoughts, you’re still quietly shutting the door to your dorm room. meticulously cautious, all in hopes to successfully escape a wrath imaginably worth ten thousand.
suguru didn’t mean this, you’re sure.
it’s immature, you’re aware, to head out on your own. you’re stuck imagining possible outcomes, and all the punishments that await you when you return. and yet once more, you thank the heavens, all gods that can hear, for satoru’s inability to wake up early.
campus is pretty in the early hours. the sun not yet rising, and grounds only illuminated by small scattered lamps. it’s peaceful, quiet from it’s usual bickering of your underclassmen. a moment of tranquility before the storm.
proof is what the world will get. it’s the objective of your heart’s own mission, regardless of whether or not it was a rational thing to do.
(it was most definitely not.)
to be strong is to understand weakness. and you’ll only let your emotions sway you as vulnerable. but you’re equally as aware that might just be your demise.
paper crinkles in your hands.
the report is relatively detailed. a street name is in thick black ink, and it’s hard to miss the red stamp labeling the file, ‘grade one.’
a breeze. ‘fun,’ like satoru had put it.
the mind is fragile. nerves send it in a frenzy, and you suppose affirmations are the only way that you can attempt to keep your heart from racing. it’s guilt, also.
he’s probably still asleep in bed. laid beside pillows that you know are too ridiculously soft, and having a single alarm on his phone because you’re aware that he is generally a light sleeper. but satoru needed to see you differently. a better perception — a kaleidoscope of mystery. because, unfortunately, some hint of acknowledgement from a god keeps mere mortals standing.
it takes almost an hour to finally set your eyes on the street, and when they do, you begin to second-guess your flawed plan.
from exact numbers and location, a warehouse is where you end up. battered, and clearly worn down. a perfect spot for a curse in hiding.
though if satoru was here, he would have laughed.
the cursed energy emitting from the building is unmistakable. it’s strong, and it involuntarily speeds up your already-abnormal heart rate. hiding is plain stupid if it’s energy is that obvious. but it’s also still dark out. you doubt the building even has electricity, though dawn seemed to be rather close. you could hold off until then.
you stand outside for longer than you wish. reality seems to dawn upon you at that moment, and it’s there that you realize you’re truly too stubborn to walk away. you’d go through with it, no matter what would happen now.
and as you’re walking, it feels like your body isn’t controlling itself. there’s a heightened fear striking all your senses, and you’ve completely submitted to instinct, not trusting your mess of thoughts. you pray for a little forgiveness, a little mercy, and head inside.
it’s bare.
with the exception of broken plywood and fallen beams, it’s nearly vacant.
the doors you enter through are flimsy, and whether it be your mind in a frenzy, or an attempt to postpone time for as long as possible, you quickly barricade them with the pieces of discarded wood. at the very least, it’d prevent any chances of normal civilians from entering.
every bit of cursed energy seems to draw you towards the opposite end of the building.
and there’s not much you can do when materialized arrows welcome themselves into your vision, a quick dodge being your eyes’ only savior.
“fuck.” you breathe, swallowing thickly. you’re scared shitless, anxiety hardly alleviated by the close call. a hand rummages to the sheath connected to your waist, and you close your eyes tightly, counting yourself down from initiating your first strike.
“okay, okay, okay.”
your weapon unveils itself.
•••
iii. glory in the sun’s rays.
heavy breaths are the only sound echoing across distant walls.
but besides that,
serenity.
it’s quiet.
like particles, hope sprinkles in, and the curse in front of your eyes disperses — successfully exorsized.
in that moment, you truly believe there is no better sight. nothing that can possibly grant that level of satisfaction.
your mouth tastes a little like metal. it’s bitter, and you suppress a wince, too relieved to really feel an ounce of worry.
there’s broken panels from all around. holes in the walls, gaps in the ceilings, and you wonder how you even managed to reach such high places — especially given the state that you’re in.
and despite your contentment, your body sends itself into a momentary coughing fit.
something stings — it hurts bad, but loud footsteps, running, running, running, echo on the other side of the barricaded doors, and the wooden panels wedged in between the handles are broken, timbered pieces thinly scattered across the floor.
both doors fly open.
it’s a vague sense you have. the ability to feel him.
you’ve learned it well over the past year.
satoru’s cursed energy is unique. it creeps up on you, until there’s a realization that the only thing you can feel is him. situating himself as something important, far more attention-worthy than your own being. it’s suffocating.
you meet each other’s eyes.
he seems to be breathing nearly as heavily as you are. eyes blown out, a hint of something feral in his irises. you’re stagnant, reciprocating the attention.
“told you.“ you swallow thickly, a proud, fatigued smile on your face as you look at him.
it’s still quiet in the building. satoru stands a few feet ahead of you.
he looks disarrayed.
“i fucking did it, you idiot.”
clothes somewhat torn, hair slightly disheveled, you stand.
something was blooming. pride? an accomplishment of the unthinkable — proving a god wrong. going against all odds. but every sense, every feeling, dwindles as you finally muster up the attention to fully take satoru in. it’s more difficult to focus.
satoru looks strange, you think. eyes wide, face visibly more pale than usual. and he’s quiet, for once in his life.
it’s unpleasant, and you feel your body recoil a bit, physically tensing.
“what—“ you breathe heavy, eyes lidded as they look up to his. everything is kind of loud, including his stare. he’s crafted in white shimmer from your vision, and it’s easy to spot the uncharacteristic worry in his eyes. “what’s up with you?”
and for the first time since you’ve known him, gojo satoru seems small. though only differentiated by a mere year, you’re able to see that small spec of time fall upon his graceful features. like admiration crumbling, and a heavy heart dying.
gods shouldn’t fear things.
it’s shock, satoru thinks. it’s why he doesn’t immediately move, and why the walls around him seem to shrink.
he’s never been in such a state. every feeling foreign, and he thinks he might be sick for a second.
his hands are shaking, and he’s focused on red. a naturalistic color that’s been too heavily branded in his life, it feels wrong to not be indifferent about it. he should be accustomed to it, for those weaker have the misfortune of having it easily taint their skin. but gojo satoru is not heartless. (though in that moment, that’s all he wishes to be.)
your shirt is ripped from the bottom.
there’s a deep, grotesque wound that covers your lower stomach. the gash follows upwards, nearly identical to the scar he’d seen upon his first few months of knowing you. satoru had later learned that it was from your first mission alongside mei mei. you’d been separated from each other for a second too long, and it’d landed you with a permanent reminder of your lost adolescence. your devotion and commitment to the jujustu world, left on your skin forever.
open, again, as satoru watches the blood flow down your side. a gory sight, and when your eyes begin to slow in their blinking, a switch seems to turn itself on in his head.
“no, no, hey-“ and he’s rushing forward, catching you a mere second before you fall. gentle, anxious hands cradle and guide, up until your body is on the floor, and those same hands are pressed excruciatingly harshly against your abdomen. “keep—shit, keep your eyes open.”
satoru thinks he feels his heart die. if life is real, surely it had just shriveled into nothingness. because as soon as he applies pressure to the gaping wound, you’re frightened, crying out and weakly attempting to push away his unrelenting arms.
“fuck, stop-“ you’re wheezing, too pain-stricken to utter any other thought. a sliver of that unruly color trickles down the side of your mouth, and satoru believes he’s never felt emotion, panic, this intense.
his brain fogs, fuzzy and disconnected as he blinks rapidly, his breath palpitating as he reaches for his phone. his hand is ruined in the color of your state, coated fingers dialing at an inhumane speed.
satoru doesn’t register shoko’s voice. he’s repeating the same thing over and over again, for help, because he’s utterly useless for you. broken in repetition, emotions being indescribably shaken.
the blood in your mouth tastes more bitter than before. to see him hysterical felt wrong. satoru had always been something stable for the world to lean on. the universal rock, who would never dwindle. the task that comes with the title, ‘the strongest’ replacing his own personal persona.
and, you think again, expectations should really be kept low at all costs.
your eyes threaten to unfocus, trembling lightly as they try to stay open. satoru’s stomach drops, and he’s immediately shaking you gently, reminding you that ‘you’ll be fine, just look at me.’
he’s far too tense to be humorous. the wit has locked itself in a cage, and he takes in the reality of being realistic.
gojo satoru cannot deny his six eyes.
it looks fatal.
but despite your state, there’s charm in your weak, scarily optimistic demeanor.
“satoru?”
his eyes snap to yours.
he’s too selfish to shut you up, body yearning to hear your voice, no matter how defeatedly tired it sounds. it’s a little hoarse, and there’s no doubt in his mind that fatigue had stolen your energy to speak any louder. but he supposes he’d hear you even if he was buried underground.
you’re looking up to him like nothing is amiss. innocence sparkles the tiniest bit in your hazed vision.
there’s a tiny ghost of a smile that lingers on your stained lips. a wince plagues your expression shortly after, a curse and stuttered breath leaving you as satoru’s hands abruptly shift.
“ow—ow. be g-gentler since i’m fucking dying, satoru.”
satoru wants to hit you over the head, your labored breaths squeezing his very soul. he’s visibly tempted, and it’s only with the sight of extra glimmer in his eyes that your face falls slightly.
you want him to make a joke. you crave it. any form of banter, you silently plead.
but unbeknownst to you, satoru feels almost angry. how are you this calm? have you accepted something that he doesn’t want to verbalize? what could possibly be amusing about this?
“shut up. shut up, please.”
weak, and fragile, his voice nearly breaks. you watch him for a bit, eyes curious as they study. and though your vision is blurry, and you can feel yourself getting progressively lightheaded, you tap him gently.
you’re at fault. you’re conscious enough to remember that.
“‘s gonna be okay.” the words come out a little slurred, but still understandable. you attempt another insistent smile, a hand raising to wrap around the wrist plastered against you. “not dying, was just kidding.”
satoru isn’t used to being watched so intently. your gaze is intimidating despite your lowered eyelids, and you silently map out every curve and inch of his complexion. (just in case.)
it’s an odd predicament. for a few minutes, you expect the world to go dark, and for your words to end up being meaningless as death takes you by it’s hand. satoru’s voice sounds distant, scarily far, but you’re able to make out a few whispered pleas. vulnerability is something beautiful, you decide.
it gets harder to listen, and you get a greater urge to rest. maybe for a millennia. your soul feels drained, and a long, uninterrupted sleep is the only thing your brain allows you to register. satoru fades when the world does.
•••
“it was dumb.”
“that’s known. why say it again?”
“because it was dumb.”
you know that life has been lenient, allowing you to continue, as it welcomes you back with familiar voices. you don’t alert them of your awoken state until you feel confident that they’re real.
it’s with a glance that you’re revealed, and the gasp of one makes it known to the other.
satoru is still tempted to hit you. but, he settles with a small wack on your resting hand. you wince, glaring as you blink away your exhaustion. you kinda feel like the rest of your body is on fire.
he’s upset, clearly. watching you with careful vision, and completely silent. but all you’re thinking is how thankful you are to have him actually care.
he keeps his distance.
“you got lucky.”
suguru speaks up, staring, and you can only describe his expression as both relief and disappointment. his eyes trail across you, and you’re made aware that your body is covered amongst thin medical sheets. when he meets your eyes again, one look is enough to tell you of his silent order not to lift them. you follow through, because the mere thought of it is unappealing enough.
“i’ll give you guys some privacy.” he mutters, not without shaking his head, and sighing. it’s nerve-wracking, his demeanor overpowering but oddly tame. just before leaves, he looks at you once more, pursing his lips. his grip on the door is tight. “i’m glad you’re okay, though.”
the air is tense. you beg the world, to anything obtainable, to postpone suguru’s exit, but the sound of the door closing after him leaves your pleas unheard.
you count seconds silently.
it takes ten for satoru to break.
“did you get stupid overnight?”
you snort, tossing your head back in slight retaliation, knowing satoru would probably worsen the headache you can already feel forming.
“seriously, answer me.”
you’re weak to his sternness, blinking in surprise at his tone. he’s unrelenting, brows furrowed as he awaits your response. you look to the wall.
“i’m alive, aren’t i?” you hesitantly reply, a futile attempt to ease the discomfort that is clearly present. it only lands you a scoff, and satoru abruptly stands up, crossing his arms as he looks down at you.
it’s not his favorite sight in the world. there’s a bandage around your head, lightly stained, and he’d seen the state of your injuries before shoko had ultimately pulled the blanket over you.
considering what could have been, he’s more than grateful. but satoru has trouble expressing himself, and it’s a type of flaw that can’t be easily fixed with training.
he shuts his eyes, briefly, and exhales.
“i thought you were a goner.”
upon you losing consciousness, shoko had arrived a mere minute later. satoru thinks the look on her face will be branded into his memory for life — solemn, pitying, and definite. it was only with the help of denial that he had moved with urgency, and commands were thrown at shoko to keep you stable enough for transportation.
a surgery later, and it was told that you would live.
“felt like it.” you cringe, recounting the initial level of pain you had endured when satoru had first found you. it’s subsided for the most part now, though you hold a lingering fear to move, worried that it’d cause more harm than good. the flames of discomfort were decently bearable.
it’s unfortunate that you’re bedridden, for if it were up to you, the easiest solution to all your problems would be to leave the room all together.
satoru is a different person when upset. his presence is overwhelming, and you quickly learn that it is impossible to avoid him.
“i just…” satoru exhales, and there’s a clear conflict of contemplation when he shakes his head. “why would you do that?”
you almost want to poke his side, chastising his concern with a teasing smile and small laugh. but it’s painfully obvious that the last thing satoru wants is something embedded with humor, so you purse your lips, and shrug.
“i just needed to prove to myself that i was capable of defeating it. that i wasn’t useless — you know?”
there’s something you’re not saying; information that remains a mystery. satoru knows it. he can tell by the look on your face.
he’d deciphered the little secret piece the moment you had begun to look away from him.
but because satoru cares (in his own, strange way), he doesn’t bring it up. guilt somewhat gnaws on his insides, and he takes the opportunity to vaguely apologize, needing at least that in the air.
“you are capable. i knew that before all of… this.” satoru motions to you briefly, and despite the circumstances, his wince makes you want to snicker.
he watches your expression softly morph, and a more relaxed and delighted smile rests upon your lips. and he debates, for a while, because ultimately it feels wrong not to bring it up. he falls victim to his guilt.
“and, sorry for lying. suguru told me he told you.”
you nod gently, breathing out a heavy sigh. “kinda evil, satoru.”
in an instant, his eyes widen, and he’s waving his hands wildly.
“hey—hey! i only said it so it could push you more. you can’t work towards improvement without some motivation.”
“how would that motivate me?”
“personally, it would push me to change yaga’s opinion-“
“no, it made me feel like shit, actually.”
“okay, well, i didn’t consider that when i told you-“
“because you’re an idiot.”
almost comically, satoru’s mouth drops.
“who’s the one that fought a first grade by themselves?”
“well, i defeated it, so…”
“not the point.”
you’re smiling, a laugh escaping your lips. satoru doesn’t mirror you much, a more playfully annoyed look on his face.
you stare at each other for a second too long, before you feverishly look away.
the pain has calmed, you realize. you can’t really feel the ache at all.
for a moment, you’re reminded of suguru’s expression. that knowing look in his eyes.
you turn back to look at satoru. and you can feel your heart speed up, just a little, because realization dawns upon you, and you can feel yourself growing flustered.
you think you know what he was trying to say.
More Posts from Zukowantshishonourback and Others
Master List
Chapter One - Never overstay your welcome, keep moving.
Chapter Two - Never loot the same place twice, no supply is worth a second trip.
Chapter Three - Never help a fuckin soul, the cost is your own
Chapter Four - Everyone lies, especially men
𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚
feat. katsuki bakugo x fem! reader
cw: ansgt
˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ˗ leaving y/n a series a voicemails, katsuki regrets not telling her how he truly felt for her.
❝to see you walk away.❞
+ wherever you are by ulrich schnauss
shoto's version
you have one new voicemail!
"hey... it's... katsuki bakugo. you remember me? that one loud mouth that never knew how to keep his mouth shut, or at least that's what you'd say. always talking back to me like i wouldn't man handle your ass. anyways, yeah, everything seems off.
"... your funerals tomorrow. after a week of you being gone, they're finally putting you in the ground. everyone's acting different. everyone stares at the front door waiting for your grinning face to pop up at any moment. i don't know why, but, i'm also waiting to see your face.
"can i see you tomorrow?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"i gave my speech at your funeral. if you were here you'd say it's corny or some sappy shit. i think icy hot got a little mad. you remember him? your devoted little boyfriend. bet if you were here you'd be disappointed in him. he didn't even bother saying anything at your funeral.
"he just... stared at your empty casket. where you're supposed to be. i think he made himself believe that your body was still intact instead of... yeah. he didn't cry like everyone else did, i mean neither did i, but, he was silent. it was weird in a way. i couldn't stand the look in his face.
"do you see me?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"we got this new girl. it's eerie, she looks so much like you. half 'n half can't keep his eyes to himself. he thinks she's you. but i know better. she can never be you. she doesn't even reach where you're at. you two are on a completely scale. but you don't reach me.
"it pissed me off when aizawa had her sit in your seat. she probably thinks i like her because i keep staring back there. but it's not her that i'm staring at. it's your desk. because slowly, they're trying to replace you.
"what even pissed me off more, was when your dorm room, that used to be empty, was now occupied. for the new lousy american bitch. they're slowly getting rid of you. they're slowly getting rid of our memories.
"can you tell that i'll never get rid of you?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"aizawa can tell i've been slacking off. i can hear your sarcastic voice already saying, 'what, the katsuki bakugo, slacking off?'. he's trying to get us back into shape, not let another... mistake... happen again. but i can tell it's hard for him to. with his leg missing and his eye missing.
"i— this may sound corny, but, i kinda miss seeing your stupid face. i miss you talking back to me. did i tell you that the new girl talks back to me as well? i think she's trying to be you. the group, shitty hair, pink face, dunce face, and elbow guy don't like her.
"they said she's trying to be like you. i see it. i agree with them. she is trying to be like you. she's decorated her dorm room like yours. she even has that same poster from your favorite band. my instincts are telling me that your parents had left it by mistake and she took for herself.
"do you miss seeing my stupid face?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"i still come see your grave. i leave your favorite flowers. shitty hair told me to stop seeing you. that i need to move on and focus on my career. but how can i move on when i all i think about is you? yea, you're right, i am being soft.
"but if i had told you how i felt about you, you'd probably laugh in my face. it's why i never told you about how i felt. because i was afraid you'd reject me. i didn't want to look like a fucking idiot.
"but then i remember the way you would stare at me. the way i would catch you looking at me when you thought i wasn't looking. i know you know how i felt about you. and it hurts, because you never said anything.
"can i see you in my dreams like i do every other night?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"okay, don't get mad. yes, it has been a two weeks, but that's because the old hag took my phone away. she say's that you being gone has mess me up. i don't think so. she say's i need to get out there more. but she doesn't understand.
"don't get mad. i may or may have not kicked icy hots ass. before i hear you yelling at me, just listen. he took that american girl on a date. they're dating. how unfaithful is he. while everyone was congratulating him, i glared at him. how could he do this to you? if you were with me, i wouldn't do that. i would never move on.
"i told him off. shitty hair and elbow guy had to stop me from doing more damage. he just stood there and took it. i think he also knows that i liked you. 'liked'... i don't know what i'm doing, y/n.
"do you think you can tell me that everything is going to be okay?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"do you remember when that day i went knocking on your dorm? i had told you to turn of your shitty music because i could hear it from my dorm. but that wasn't true. i didn't come knocking at your door because of your music. hell, i couldn't even hear it.
"i knocked because i wanted to hear your ugly voice. i was also scared. ever since i got kidnapped by the league of villains. you comforted me and told me everything was going to be okay.
"then we stayed up talking about the randomness shit ever. and then you told me your secret. it looked like you didn't care when you pulled me down to your bed and covered me with your blanket. we huddled up so close, that i swear you could feel the heat radiating off my cheecks.
"can we do that again when i see you?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"everyone forgot about you. even your boyfriend, scratch that, your ex. no one calls your name out, no one mentions you anymore, the posters on the walls are no longer there. they completely gotten rid of you. it hurts. so, so bad.
"shitty hair wants me to go to therapy. i don't know. he's funny. he can tell i'm still clinging onto you. he catches me looking at photos of you. he got upset when he found the confession letter that i have planned on giving you.
"he says it's not healthy. he sounds like deku. oh, yeah, you remember deku? ever since he disappeared and came back, our relationship has gotten better. i think he feels guilty of you dying. we don't argue as much. you got your wish.
"do you think if i accomplish all your wishes i get to see you again?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"you know what sucks, n/n. is that your selfish ass left me all alone before i even got to tell you how i felt. you are so selfish to save some random civilian knowing you would get killed in the process. you saw it coming. why did you push me away!?
"... what sucks even more... is that your own family killed you. he knew and yet he still did it. yeah, if you're wondering, i kept your secret. i'm kinda glad you told me it, it was the only thing keeping me closer to you. you trusted me.
"can you tell me if you're okay wherever you are?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"be honest with me. and no fucking jokes. if you weren't with that bastard and if you never felt any feelings for him, would you have accepted my feelings? a part of me tells me that you wouldn't, because i'm harsh and rude.
"but another part says that you would have, because as you said it yourself, you didn't mind my attitude. you said it's what made me, me. i think that's why i was so drawn towards you. you accepted me for who i was and never once tried to change me.
"it's why i fell so hard for you. it's why i call you at midnight when i'm having panic attacks. your voice calms me down. yeah, okay, you can laugh. i'd do anything to hear your voice one more time. call me a big fucking softy.
"do you want to hear me say those three words?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"i came across your parents house the other night. ... i had a dream of you. you were sitting on your front porch, smiling up at me as you offered my hand. you were talking but i couldn't hear you. you sounded distant. then the next thing i know, you kissed me.
"maybe dunce face is right. i am down bad for you. he would always say that when you walked by and i'd always glance at you. he doesn't say it anymore and a part of me wishes for him to say it. he avoids your name like the black plague.
"i hope your family has moved on."
⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘
you have one new voicemail!
"can i see you tomorrow? do you see me? can you tell that i'll never get rid of you? do you miss seeing my stupid face? can i see you in my dreams like i do every other night? do you think you can tell me that everything is going to be okay? can we do that again when i see you? do you think if i accomplish all your wishes i get to see you again? can you tell me if you're okay wherever you are?
"do you want to hear me say those three words?"
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you have one new voicemail!
"i don't know when your parents are gonna stop your phone services. so, before they do that, i want to let you know that... i, i love you. i know it's to late for me, but if you got a second chance i wouldn't hesitate to say those three fucking words.
"i wouldn't even care if anybody was around. i love you, y/n. i always have, since the first day i laid my eyes on you. i will always love you no matter where you are. i'm glad i got to met you. i'm glad you had bumped into me and talked back to me.
"i love you, y/n. i will always fucking love you."
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i'm sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service. please dial back again to make sure you have entered the right number. goodbye.
DEMON PRINCE SHOUTO AU | MASTERLIST
tags/warnings: modern supernatural au, aged up characters, demons, bonding bites, fem pronoun + afab reader
PART I (1K)
Things seem to going well with the prince of hell you've accidentally taken home. Until a surprise visitor makes an appearance, and Shouto must take action to stake his claim on you.
PART II (1.5K)
You learn just what kind of ancient bond Shouto has invoked to protect you, and come to terms with what that means for your future.
PART III (coming soon)
You learn that a mating bond has its downsides (and its upsides). nsfw.
drabbles will be posted under the tag #third prince of hell au
「 CRY FOR ME 」 ♡ MASTERLIST
PAIRING : Suna Rintarō x Reader. Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader.
GENRE : Angst.
TAGS/WARNINGS : NSFW. Fake Dating. Unrequited Love. Profanity. Enemies (not really) to Lovers. Friends with Benefits. Not very canon compliant.
SYNOPSIS : You have been in love with your best friend Sakusa Kiyoomi for as long as you can remember. The problem? He is in love with somebody else. And for you to snag even the tiniest bit of his affections, it seems like you would willingly go through drastic measures.. Even if it means teaming up with his lifelong rival, Suna Rintarō
TAGLIST : CLOSED
PLAYLIST + sunayn texts + sunayn crumbs
CHAPTERS
PROLOGUE
ACT I – PARTNER
ACT II – PLAYING WITH FIRE
ACT III – BLUR
ACT IV – LET'S NOT FALL IN LOVE
ACT V – SAFETY NET
ACT VI – LIE TO ME
ACT VII – TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE
ACT VIII – ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY.
ACT IX – ALWAYS
ACT X – BITTER LOVE
ACT XI – AFTERGLOW
THE FINAL ACT – CRY FOR ME
EPILOGUE
REMEMBER ME IN SUMMER — SATORU GOJO
pairing — one night stand!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary — six months ago, you left satoru gojo's apartment before sunrise, thinking you'd never see him again. now, trapped in a beach house for a weekend with mutual friends, you're forced to face the man who doesn't seem to remember that night—or does he? between shared walls, heated touches, and games of pretend, you're starting to think maybe one night wasn't enough after all. but in a house full of friends, some things are better left in the past… right?
word count — 9.5 k
genre/tags — beach house AU, summer romance, one night stand to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, tension, awkward reunions, friends gathering, miscommunication, beach vibes, satoru is a little menace in this one
warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, all characters aged up (mid 20s), language
author's note — hi everyone ! this fic came out of nowhere, and i literally wrote it in three days, but i really love the idea and the summer vibes in this one, even tho i wrote it while it was literally snowing outside, but somewhere on earth it's summer rn, so why not post it lol. hope you enjoy this mess of a summer romance story as much as i enjoyed writing it ! <3 (credit/art)
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The last person you expected to see in Okinawa was Satoru Gojo.
Yet there he was, lounging on the deck of the beach house like he belonged there, white hair catching the sunlight as he laughed at something someone had said. Your heart tumbled over itself as memories of that night six months ago flooded back unbidden.
"You okay?" Maki nudged you with her elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
More like the ghost of past bad decisions. "I'm fine," you managed, gripping your weekend bag tighter. "Wasn't expecting so many people."
The beach house was supposed to be a simple weekend getaway with close friends. But somewhere between planning and execution, it had turned into a "friends of friends" situation to fill the eight-bedroom house Okkotsu's family had offered.
"Yeah, Yuta's cousin's boyfriend invited some people to fill the space," Maki explained, completely unaware of your internal crisis. "That's Satoru over there, by the way. He's actually pretty fun once you get past the whole—" She gestured vaguely at all of him.
You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Because you were already very familiar with how "fun" Satoru Gojo could be.
Six months ago, you'd met him at a bar in Tokyo. He'd been charming and gorgeous, all easy smiles and playful banter. One drink had turned into several, flirting had turned into kissing, and kissing had turned into...
Well.
You'd slipped out of his apartment before dawn, leaving nothing but a lipstick stain on his collar and a dip in his pillow. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. You weren't looking for anything serious, and someone like him definitely wasn't the settling down type.
Now, watching him chat lively with your friends like the universe's cruelest joke, you wondered if you should have at least left your number.
"Girl," Maki waved her hand in front of your face. "You sure you're okay?"
Before you could answer, Satoru looked up. His eyes met yours across the deck, and for a moment, your heart stopped.
But there was no recognition in those sea blue eyes. No hint that he remembered the way you'd gasped his name in the dark, the way his hands had traced every inch of your skin, the way he'd whispered "stay" against your shoulder just before you'd fallen asleep.
He just smiled politely, the same smile he’s probably giving everyone else too, and went back to his conversation.
Right. Of course he didn't remember. You were probably just one in a long line of one-night stands for someone like him. The thought shouldn't hurt as much as it did.
"Come on," Maki said, tugging you towards the house. "Let's get settled in before the others arrive.”
Up close, the beach house was even more impressive. A sprawling three-story mansion of white stone and floor-to-ceiling windows that caught the afternoon light like rippling water, a wraparound veranda with a cozy sitting area led to a private path down to the beach, lined with swaying palms and colourful flowers.
Inside, the house opened into a huge room with soaring ceilings and an open floor plan that made the space feel endless. Ocean views followed you everywhere through the massive windows, and the whole place smelled of salt and lemon.
"The bedrooms are upstairs," Maki said as she led you up a floating staircase. "Most of them are on the second floor, but there are two master bedrooms on the third."
The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. Not only did you have to spend the weekend pretending you didn’t know how Satoru's brows draw together when he'd cum, but your room ended up right next to his—the two largest bedrooms on the top floor, sharing a wall and a connecting balcony. Of course.
Your room was bigger than your entire apartment in Tokyo, with a king-size bed draped in soft white linens. One wall was entirely glass, offering an unobstructed view of the ocean, while the other walls were decorated with pictures and minimalist art.
"My god, the view’s amazing!" Maki gushed and threw open the balcony doors. The sound of waves immediately filled the room, along with fresh, salty ocean air. "You can see the whole beach from here."
But you were too busy staring at the wall next to you, where a door that must lead to Satoru's room was hidden behind a cupboard. You could hear muffled movement from his room, the sound of his laugh drifting through the wall that suddenly felt far too thin and your mind helpfully supplied memories of other sounds he could make, and you wondered if it was too late to fake some sudden illness and go home.
"Yeah," you said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "Amazing."
Maki flopped down beside you, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress. "I know I've been here like five times already with Yuta, but it never gets old." She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on her hands. "Usually it's just us and his family, maybe a few cousins. This is the first time we're doing a friend group thing."
You tried to focus on her words instead of the sound of suitcases being wheeled into the room next door. "How long have you and Yuta been coming here?"
"Since we started dating three years ago. His family does this whole summer tradition thing." She smiled. "First time I came, I was so nervous I barely left the room. Now it feels like a second home." She sat up, crossing her legs. “And since his parents said we could use it this weekend, we thought why not invite friends.”
Through the wall, you could hear male voices chatting and laughing, followed by the sound of a door sliding open. Probably the balcony doors. Your shared balcony. Where he could walk past your windows at any time.
“You’re okay with this, right? Yuta’s friends are actually really fun once you get to know them. Especially Satoru, even tho he can be a pain in the ass.” Your stupid heart tumbled over itself once more at his name. "And single, if you're interested. I could—"
"No!" The word came out louder than intended, and you heard the conversation next door pause briefly. Lowering your voice, you added, "I mean, no thanks. Not really looking for anything right now."
Maki gave you a strange look. "You sure you're okay? You've been weird since we got here."
"Just tired from the drive," you lied and stood up. "Maybe I'll take a quick shower before everyone else arrives."
"Okay..." She didn't sound convinced but got up anyway. "I should go find Yuta anyway, make sure he's not letting Satoru destroy any of Yuta's mum's favourite vases."
You waited until she left before falling with your face first onto the bed with a groan. Perfect. Not only did you have to spend the weekend next door to your one night stand who might or might not remember you, but now your best friend was trying to set you up with him.
Through the wall, you heard Satoru laugh at something, the sound familiar enough to make your chest ache.
It was going to be a very long weekend.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
You'd barely finished unpacking when Yuji burst into your room without knocking. "Hey! We're setting up a net for beach volleyball. You in?"
"Ah, I don't really—"
"Everyone's playing!" He was already on his way back to the door. "Even Megumi, and you know how he is about fun."
Before you could form a proper excuse, Maki appeared behind him. "Come on, it'll be fun, the sun is out and it’s better than hiding up here all afternoon."
And that's how you found yourself trudging down to the beach, trying to convince yourself this was fine. Totally fine. Just a fun game of volleyball with friends. Nothing to worry about.
But then the boys started stripping off their shirts. It was like watching some ridiculous scene out of Top Gun as they all shed their shirt in the afternoon heat. But it was Satoru who made your brain go silent completely.
He pulled his shirt off, and suddenly you were having vivid flashbacks to exactly how that toned chest felt under your hands. The sun caught his hair like a halo, and when he stretched his arms over his head, the muscles in his back shifted in ways that should not make your knees so weak, but here you were, rooted to the spot, your pulse racing as if it had a mind of its own.
"You're staring," Maki whispered next to you.
"I'm not," you said, even though you definitely were. How could you not? It was like someone had taken every beach volleyball scene from every summer movie ever and combined them into one ridiculous moment.
Teams were forming, and with an uneven number, you volunteered to sit this round out. Not that you were particularly eager to participate in the first place. You were perfectly happy watching from the safety of your beach towel, where the risk of accidentally brushing against Satoru's unnecessarily perfect body was thankfully minimized.
The game started, and it quickly became clear that everyone was taking it way too seriously, as Satoru and Yuji seemed to be in some sort of competition to see who could spike the ball more impressively.
"Show off," you muttered to yourself as Satoru delivered a rather dramatic jump serve, the ball landing dangerously close to your foot. But he must have heard you, because he caught your eye with a wink that made your stomach flutter. "Like what you see?"
"I've seen better," you said before you could stop yourself.
His eyebrows shot up and a slow smile spread across his face. "Have you now?"
Oh god. Were you flirting? This was definitely flirting. You needed to stop staring at the way sweat was making his skin glisten and focus on... literally anything else.
"Pay attention!" Nobara yelled, and Satoru barely managed to dodge the ball she'd spiked directly at his head.
The game continued, growing more competitive with each round. You had to admit, it was entertaining watching your friends become more and more dramatic with each point. One of Yuta’s cousins and Yuji had some sort of rivalry going on, while Maki and Nobara were trash-talking each other.
But it was Satoru who kept drawing your attention. The way he moved was almost unfair and you found yourself following the drops of sweat as they made their way down his neck, remembering how that skin had tasted under your tongue.
"Incoming!"
You looked up just in time to see the volleyball heading straight for your face. Before you could react, Satoru dove in front of you and caught the ball just inches from your nose. The movement sent him sprawling across your legs, his face entirely too close to yours.
You blinked at him for a few moments, then whispered, "Thank you.” But the words came out too soft, almost like they had that night in Tokyo when he'd helped you into a taxi and then convinced you not to take it and instead come home with him.
Time seemed to slow, the crashing waves and voices of the others fading into white noise as Satoru's eyes met yours. For a moment, something flickered in those blue depths—a flash of recognition, perhaps even remembrance.
His breath caught, barely noticeable, and his hand on your leg tightened ever so slightly. You watched his eyes, saw the exact moment his gaze dropped to your lips, and suddenly you were back in that Tokyo bar, both of you caught in that same magnetic pull.
"You're welcome," he said, his voice so low that only you could hear it. There was something in his tone, a hint of question, like he was trying to place a hazy dream. His thumb brushed against your skin, possibly by accident, possibly not, sending shivers up your spine.
The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring, thick with shared memories—memories you weren't even sure he had. Then someone yelled "Dinner!" from the direction of the house, and the spell broke.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The sun was setting by the time everyone had showered and gathered around the huge dining table on the deck. Fairy lights twinkled overhead and the sound of the waves could be heard in the background as the chaos of fifteen people trying to organize a meal unfolded.
You'd taken extra care getting ready, telling yourself it was just because of the salt and sand, not because of the way Satoru had looked at you on the beach. You'd chosen a light summer dress that happened to be the exact shade of blue as his eyes—pure coincidence, of course—and had let your hair dry naturally in the sea breeze.
Yuta ended up ordering way too much from the local seafood restaurant, you concluded as you surveyed the spread of food on the table.
You ended up squeezed between Maki and Megumi, which should have been a relief. Instead, you found yourself very aware of Satoru sitting directly across from you, his hair still slightly damp from his shower, wearing a loose white linen shirt that he should really button up and stop teasing the entire table with glimpses of his toned chest.
"Pass the crab?" he asked, and when you handed him the plate, your fingers brushed. The contact sent a shiver through you, and you could have sworn you saw his breath catch. But then he was turning to laugh at something Yuji said, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.
"—and then he just fell face first right into the sand!" Yuji was saying, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. "You should have seen it!"
"We were all there, literally two hours ago," Megumi deadpanned.
"The game was rigged anyway," Nobara said, reaching for another plate of grilled shrimp. "You can't put Mr. Perfect over here on a team and expect it to be fair." She jerked her thumb in Satoru's direction.
"What can you do?" Satoru said, his eyebrows knitted together, but a grin played on his lips. "I just happen to be naturally gifted." And then his eyes caught yours once more across the table.
Heat crept up the back of your neck as you remembered how he'd felt when he'd sprawled across your legs, his skin sun warm and slightly sandy. How his touch had lingered just a fraction too long to be casual.
Something had changed in his expression, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it. But you'd spent hours that night memorizing his faces. His smirk when he had you right on the edge, his soft smile when you were trembling beneath him, the way his eyes darkened just before he—
Maki snorted. "Yeah, sure." And you looked over at her, breaking the eye contact before you could do something stupid like climb across the table and find out if he tasted as good as you remembered.
When the dinner was over, Nobara suggested to play drinking games, truth or dare to be specific, to which "What are we, fifteen?" Megumi commented but Maki already chimed in with "Never have I ever" and so it was decided.
Your stomach dropped. The last thing you needed was a drinking game where people confessed their secrets. Especially with the way Satoru kept looking at you, like he was one memory away from connecting dots you really didn't want connected.
"I think I'll pass," you said, pushing your plate away. "The sun really did take it out of me."
You gathered your plates and the sound of the others setting up their drinking game followed you into the kitchen—Yuji's voice carrying over everyone else's as he argued about rules, Nobara shouting something about "no questions about exes," and Megumi's long drawn out sighs.
A salty ocean breeze swept into the kitchen through the open wall of windows overlooking the water as you rinsed your plate. "You know," a voice came from behind you, making you jump, "I was starting to think you hate me."
Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Satoru—would recognize that voice anywhere, had spent months trying to forget how it sounded when it was rough after he’d cum. But you turned anyway, finding him leaning against the doorframe and the kitchen suddenly felt so much smaller.
"What?" The word came out embarrassingly breathless.
"Let me rephrase, for someone who doesn't hate me, you're doing an impressive job of avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you.” You turned back to the sink. "I'm doing dishes."
"Sure. The dishes." His voice got closer, and you could feel the heat of him just behind you. "Though I have to wonder why someone would work so hard to avoid someone they've never met before."
Your hands stilled under the running water. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You've barely looked at me all day." He was close enough now that you could smell his perfume that had lingered on your clothes for days after that night. "Want to tell me what I did to deserve the cold shoulder? Because usually, I at least remember if I've pissed someone off."
Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it, but at the same time the irony of his words made you want to laugh. "You haven't done anything," you said, which was technically true. He hadn't done anything wrong. Except maybe be too good in bed and then forget about it entirely.
"No?" His voice dropped lower, and you could feel his breath on your neck. "Then why—" He cut himself off. "Wait. Have we met before?"
You spun around, hands dripping water onto the floor. The motion brought you chest to chest with him, trapped between his body and the counter. "No," you said, too quickly, way too quickly. "Definitely not."
"You sure about that? Because you seem familiar—"
"Must just have one of those faces."
He moved closer still, one hand braced on the counter beside your hip, effectively caging you in. "Is that so? Because I’m sure I’d remember a pretty one like yours." You felt your breath catch in your throat, every nerve in your body screaming. He was going to kiss you, wasn't he? You should probably do something. Like move. Or breathe.
But then he simply stepped back, his smile widening. "Sorry. Must have mistaken you for someone else,” he said and the loss of his warmth felt like whiplash, leaving you cold despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air. You watched him retreat towards the door, casual as anything, like he hadn't just turned your world sideways.
Through the open door, laughter spilled in from the deck, breaking the spell that had held you captive. Satoru paused in the doorway for a moment, silhouetted against the warm light from outside, before disappearing back into the noise of your friends.
You stayed at the sink, trying to convince yourself that the heat in your cheeks was just from the summer air and ignoring the way your heart refused to settle in your chest. What had just happened? You had no idea. But one thing was painfully certain.
This weekend was going to be a long one.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Next morning, you decided to get up early and have your coffee on the beach before anyone else was awake. Sleep had been hard to come by anyway, with too many thoughts of certain one night stands keeping your mind racing.
Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, painting the sky in orange and gold watercolours and the ocean stretched out before you, quiet and calm, each small wave catching the early light like diamonds.
You'd wrapped yourself in an oversized cardigan against the morning chill, bare feet buried in sand that was still cool from the night before. And of course, because the universe hated you, that's when Satoru appeared.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, settling into the sand beside you without invitation.
You clutched your coffee mug tighter. "Something like that."
"Yeah, me neither." He stretched his long legs out in front of him, and you definitely didn't notice how his shorts rode up slightly, definitely weren't thinking about how those thighs had felt under your hands. "Keep having these weird dreams."
"Oh?"
"Mmm." As he turned to look at you, the rising sun painted his profile gold, catching his eyelashes. There was something different about him in this light — softer somehow, more like the man who'd asked you to stay than the one who'd cornered you in the kitchen last night. "About a girl in a black dress. Red lipstick. The most amazing laugh I've ever heard."
Your heart stopped.
"Funny thing is," he continued casually, "I can never quite see her face in the dreams. But I remember how she tasted. How she felt pinned beneath me. How she clenching around my fingers. How she said my name when she—"
"Stop," you whispered.
"Why?" His voice was softer now. "Because you don't want to talk about that night? Or because you thought I wouldn't remember?"
You stared at the ocean, unable to meet his gaze. "You didn't seem to yesterday."
"Don’t be stupid. I recognized you the moment you walked into the beach house."
Your coffee nearly slipped from your hands. "What?"
"Did you really think I wouldn't remember the girl who stole my favourite shirt on her way out the door?"
Heat flooded your cheeks, you totally forgotten about the shirt. "Then yesterday, in the kitchen—"
"I wanted to see how long you'd keep pretending." He smiled, the bastard had the audacity to smile at you when he revealed that he was playing you the whole time. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?”
"You're mocking me."
"Mocking you?" His eyebrows rose. Then he leaned closer to you, but you still refused to look at him. "I spent six months trying to find the girl with the kind of laugh that makes you feel drunk just hearing it, who left before I could ask for her number—"
"It was just one night," you interrupted.
"Was it? Because I distinctly remember asking you to stay."
"I couldn't."
"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?"
You finally met his gaze fully, and immediately wished you hadn't. Because he was looking at you the same way he had that night. He was enjoying this, wasn't he? Playing with you, teasing you, making you feel like a flustered schoolgirl.
"Does it matter?" you asked.
"You're really a bit slow, aren't you?"
You wanted to protest, to tell him exactly what you thought of his arrogant everything, but then Maki's voice carried across the beach, "Breakfast! Come and get it before Yuji eats everything!"
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The breakfast table was just as chaotic as the dinner the night before. Fifteen people crammed around the table had that effect, especially with Yuji already piling his plate high with pancakes while Nobara complained about him taking too many.
You'd barely settled into an empty chair when Satoru slid into the seat next to you, as if he hadn't just admitted that he'd been playing jokes on you the whole day before.
"Can you pass me the syrup?" he asked innocently, but there was nothing innocent about the way his thigh pressed against yours under the table.
You handed him the bottle without looking at him, trying to focus on pouring your coffee without spilling it everywhere. Which was made all the more difficult when his hand found your knee under the table.
"So what's everyone's plans for today?" Maki asked, passing around a plate of fresh fruit.
You tried to concentrate on the conversation, you really did. But Satoru's hand was inching higher up your thigh, and your brain was shorted out. You kicked him under the table, aiming for his shin.
He didn't even flinch, just smiled wider and continued whatever conversation he was having with Megumi about later activities, all while his fingers danced along the hem of your shorts. You felt a sudden surge of heat, definitely not from the summer sun.
"You okay?" Nobara asked suddenly. "You look a bit flushed."
"Fine!" Your voice came out higher than intended as Satoru's fingers skimmed just slightly under the edge of your shorts. "Just... hot."
"It is pretty warm this morning," Satoru agreed, his tone perfectly pleasant even as his thumb pressed into that sensitive spot on your inner thigh that he somehow remembered. The bastard. You kicked him again, harder this time.
"Did someone just kick the table?" Maki looked around suspiciously.
"Must have been the wind," you said stupidly.
You grabbed his wrist under the table, intending to push his hand away, but he just interlaced his fingers with yours and kept them there on your thigh. It was like he was asserting dominance, staking his claim, and you were suddenly trapped.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked through a mouthful of pancakes. "You're acting weird."
"Totally fine," you managed. "Just didn't sleep well."
"Hmm, me neither," Satoru chimed in, his voice all false innocence. "Must be all these weird dreams I keep having." You dug your nails into his hand in warning, but he just squeezed your hand in response, his grip tightening.
"Dreams?" Nobara asked.
"Oh, you know," Satoru began thoughtfully, "the kind that keep you up all night, thinking about... things that got away."
You were going to murder him. Slowly. Possibly with the butter knife you were currently gripping way too tight.
"That's... weirdly poetic for you," Maki said, raising an eyebrow.
"You wouldn't want to know,” he replied, and you felt his fingers inch just slightly higher once more, making you jump and bang your knee on the table.
"Jesus, what is wrong with you two this morning?" Nobara asked, looking between you and Satoru.
Under the table, you finally managed to grab his hand in yours and hold it still. But that backfired when he started playing with your fingers instead, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that made you gasp. You definitely wanted to kill him. Right after you figured out how to breathe normally again.
"So, beach day? I wanna go snorkelling," Yuji said, thankfully drawing attention away from whatever was going on under the table, and everyone agreed. JJust then, Satoru freed his hand from yours and placed it back on your knee before trailing it up your thigh.
Okay, nope this had to end now.
"I need more coffee," you announced abruptly, standing up so fast your chair scraped against the deck.
"I'll help," Satoru offered, already rising.
"No!" The word came out too sharp, making everyone look at you strangely. "I mean, I'm good. Thanks."
You practically fled into the kitchen, your skin still tingling where he'd touched you. Through the window, you could see him chatting with the others, looking completely unaffected while you were here trying to remember how to make your heart beat normally.
When is this weekend going to end?
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
"You sure you're okay?" Maki asked, swimming up beside you. "You've been weird all morning. Is the sun too much?"
"I'm fine," you said for what felt like the hundredth time today. "I’m not used to be around so many people."
The water was crystal clear, stretching out in various shades of blue that seemed to go on forever. Everyone had eagerly jumped into snorkeling, with Yuji and Nobara already in a heated competition about who could spot the most fish.
You adjusted your mask for the tenth time, trying to focus on anything except how good Satoru looked in just swim shorts. He was a few meters away, the sunlight catching the droplets of water that clung to his ridiculously toned shoulders.
My God. You needed distance. You needed space to breathe, to think, to do anything other than stare at him.
"If you say so." Maki didn't look convinced. "But tell me if something’s bothering you, okay?"
If only she knew. "Sure."
"Guys, come look at this!" Yuji called from where he was floating near some corals. "Rainbow fish!"
Everyone swam over to where he was pointing, and you had to admit, the sight was beautiful. Countless colourful fish swam through the coral, creating a vibrant palette under the water.
You followed the fish as a sudden pressure against your calf made you flinch. Satoru. He had brushed against your leg. It could have been an accident, a mere consequence of the crowded water, but somehow, it felt like anything but. You knew better. Nothing about Satoru was ever accidental.
You drifted slightly away from the group, desperately needing to put some distance between yourself and Satoru. The vibrant corals blurred into streaks of colour as you swam further from the group, the shouts of Yuji and Nobara fading.
The water a bit away from them was deeper, a darker shade of blue. As you peered down, you noticed the sandy ground was dotted with small stones, and a different kind of life seemed to thrive here. Sea anemones swayed gently in the current, and schools of silver fish, smaller than the ones near the reef, darted in and out of the anemones.
You floated on your back for a moment, gazing up at the sky, a vast expanse of pale blue flecked with fluffy white clouds as the sun warmed your face. It was so peaceful, and you were happy for the small pause amidst the chaos of the house.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
You startled at Satoru's voice right behind you, nearly inhaling water through your snorkel. He'd somehow managed to swim up without you noticing, and now he was close enough that his arm brushed yours in the water.
"What are you doing?" you hissed, pulling your snorkel out.
"I know a better spot.” He nodded towards a more secluded area around the curve of the beach. "If you're interested."
You glanced back at the others, but they were all absorbed in whatever Yuji had found. "I don't think—"
"Come on," he said, already swimming away. "Don't you trust me?"
"Not even a little bit." But found yourself following him anyway.
He led you around a small outcropping of rocks, the current tugging gently at your fins, to a quieter part of the reef. His hand on your arm gently guided you through the water. The water here was somehow even clearer, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a breathtaking underwater scenery with colourful coral formations that created a labyrinth of archways and caverns with small fish swimming in between.
"How did you—"
"I came here earlier this morning," he said, treading water close to you. "While you were pretending to ignore me after breakfast."
"I wasn't—" You cut yourself off as he dove under the surface, the sunlight playing across his back as he swam deeper.
You followed him down, your breath taken away by the sight. This part of the reef was like something out of a documentary. Swarms of tropical fish swirled around you in ribbons of colour, and the coral itself seemed to shine in the filtered sunlight.
When you surfaced, Satoru was watching you with an annoyingly knowing smile. "Worth following me?"
"It's alright," you said, trying to sound unimpressed even though you were anything but.
He laughed. "You're still trying to play hard to get?"
"I'm not playing anything."
"No?" He swam closer, close enough that you could see droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. "Then why did you follow me here?"
"To see the fish.”
"The fish." His voice was amused. "Sure. That's why you've been watching me all morning?"
"I have not—"
"You know," he cut you off, moving even closer, his body brushing against yours in the water. "You're pretty when you get all flustered. Just like that night in Tokyo. Same flush you had when I made you cum three times.”
Ha? Had he been keeping count or what? You frantically tried to replay that night in your head — there was the first time against his apartment door, then on the kitchen counter, and... oh god, he was right. The bastard had been counting. The smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what you were thinking about.
You splashed water at him. "We are not talking about Tokyo."
He wiped water from his face, grinning. "No? Should we talk about this morning instead? About how you nearly jumped out of your skin when I touched your—"
You dunked him mid-sentence.
He came up spluttering, pushing wet hair from his eyes. "Okay, I probably deserved that."
"You definitely deserved that."
But he laughed, and despite yourself, you found yourself laughing too. There was something infectious about him, something that made it hard to keep your walls up, dissolving your defenses with unnerving ease, like mist beneath the morning sun.
"We should head back," you said finally. "Before they come looking for us."
"Probably," he agreed, but made no move to leave. Instead, he floated closer, until his chest pressed against yours. "Or we could stay here a bit longer. I could remind you of all the other ways I can make you wet."
Heat flooded your body. "Satoru..."
"Yes?" His hands found your waist under the water, pulling you flush against him. One thigh slipped between yours, and you had to bite back a gasp at the friction. "You know, I still remember exactly how you sound when you're trying not to moan my name."
"We can't." But your body betrayed you, arching into his touch as his fingers skimmed along your ribs, dangerously close to your breast.
"Can't?" His lips ghosted over your lips, his thumb tracing circles on your hip under the water in a way that made you think of how those fingers had felt inside you. "Or are you afraid you won't be able to keep quiet this time?"
Before you could answer, Nobara's voice carried across the water. "Where did you guys go?"
You pushed away from him quickly, already swimming back towards the group. "Coming!"
"This isn't over," he called after you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
"It never started!" you shot back, but you were smiling too.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Satoru spent the rest of the afternoon driving you absolutely insane.
After snorkeling, he'd positioned his beach towel suspiciously close to yours, spending an unnecessary amount of time applying sunscreen to his chest and arms. His movements were deliberately slow, borderline pornographic, fingers sliding over muscle in a way that had you remembering exactly how those muscles had felt flexing under your tongue.
You knew without a doubt he was putting on a show for you—every movement a reminder of how those arms had looked braced above you as he'd fucked you against his apartment door, how they'd felt pinning your wrists to his sheets.
During lunch, he'd somehow ended up next to you again, his bare thigh pressed hot against yours under the table like this morning had taught him nothing. Except this time, his hand didn't just rest on your knee. It spent the entire meal tracing patterns up your thigh, fingertips dancing dangerous close to where you'd been aching for him.
Your breath caught every time his hand "accidentally" slipped under the hem of your shorts, remembering how those fingers had curled inside you, how they'd made you beg.
The afternoon beach volleyball rematch was even worse. He kept finding excuses to touch you—steadying you with a hand on your waist when you stumbled in the sand (the same way he'd gripped your hips while taking you from behind), reaching around you to grab the ball (his breath hot on your neck like when he'd whispered how good you felt around him), his chest pressing against your back, closer than needed (making you remember how it felt to be pressed between him and that apartment door).
But dinner? Dinner was pure torture.
He'd shown up freshly showered, hair still damp and tousled in that way that made your fingers itch to grab it (like you had when he was between your thighs), wearing a dark blue linen shirt that he hadn't bothered to button properly once more and spent the entire meal finding new ways to make you squirm.
He'd catch your eye across the table and slowly lick sauce off his thumb, making you remember exactly how that tongue had felt when he'd spread you open. When passing dishes, his fingers would brush against yours unnecessarily long, making you shiver. At one point, he'd stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal his lower abs that had you gripping your fork so hard your knuckles turned white.
He knew exactly what he was doing, too—you could tell by the smug look on his face throughout the whole dinner.
Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. They were all too busy with their own conversations, completely oblivious to the way he was systematically dismantling your sanity with nothing more than glances and touches.
Every time you thought you'd gotten yourself under control, he'd do something else — run his fingers through his hair the same way he had when you'd been on your knees in front of him, or bite his lip in a way that had you crossing your legs under the table. By dessert, you were a mess of sexual frustration and murderous impulses.
He was enjoying this, the bastard. Testing your control, seeing how far he could push before you broke. And the most infuriating part?
It was working.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
After dinner, everyone wandered into the living room in various states of food induced laziness. You'd barely managed to claim a corner of the big couch when Nobara disappeared into the kitchen, returning with an armful of wine bottles and a certain look in her eye that spelled trouble.
"No one move," she announced, setting the bottles on the coffee table. "I have an idea."
"Your ideas usually end with someone crying," Megumi commented from his spot on the floor.
"Or arrested," Maki added helpfully.
"Or both," you muttered, trying to ignore how Satoru had somehow appeared in the armchair closest to your corner of the couch. He'd rolled up his sleeves during dinner, forearms on full display, and you were having a hard time not staring at his fingers. Fingers that you knew from experience felt so good in your mouth to keep you from—
"Never have I ever!" Nobara's voice cut through your dangerous train of thought. A collective groan rose from the group.
"Not again," Megumi said, already trying to get up.
"Sit your ass down," Nobara commanded, pushing him back down. "We're bonding."
"We bonded plenty last night," you Yuta tried, but Nobara was having none of it and before you knew it, everyone agreed.
"Okay, I'll start easy," Yuji said, clearly excited despite his earlier protests. "Never have I ever cheated on a test."
Several people drank, including Satoru—and you, okay let’s be real.
The questions started innocent enough. Never have I ever broken a bone. Never have I ever been arrested. Never have I ever dyed my hair. But as the wine flowed, the questions got progressively more suggestive.
"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same gender," Maki said, and half the circle drank. "Never have I ever faked it," was Nobara's contribution, and several people groaned but drank.
You were starting to feel a bit hazy, the wine making everything feel warm and soft around the edges. Which was dangerous, because Satoru kept looking at you like he was remembering exactly how you'd sounded that night when you definitely hadn't been faking anything.
"Never have I ever," one of Yuta’s cousins announced then, "had sex with someone in this room." For a moment, no one moved. Then Yuta and Maki drank, of course. And then Satoru raised his own glass slowly and took a long sip.
"Who?" Nobara shrieked, looking around the circle. "Satoru just drank, so someone else here has to—" Her gaze swept over everyone suspiciously.
"Someone's lying," Maki sang, already tipsy enough to find this hilarious. "Come on, fess up!"
You kept your face carefully neutral, even as you felt Satoru's eyes burning into you. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not this time.
"Maybe it was before any of us knew each other," Yuji suggested, but Nobara shook her head.
"No way. Look at his face!" She pointed accusingly at Satoru. "He's got that look. You know, that 'I know something you don't know' look."
Satoru just smiled lazily from his armchair, swirling the wine in his glass. "Maybe I just like keeping you all guessing."
"You're a dumbass," Nobara said, but the group's attention was already shifting as Yuji launched into the next question, something about falling asleep at work.
You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, but made the mistake of glancing at Satoru and he gave you a look that sent a shiver of heat through you over his wine glass.
God, you were going to murder him. Slowly. Painfully. Preferably with the very wine glass he was currently smirking into.
Who did he think he was, just casually drinking like that, nearly exposing everything? He could have at least warned you, given you some sign he was about to blow up your secret. But no, he'd just taken that deliberate sip, probably getting hard on watching you squirm as you tried to keep your poker face.
That sick bastard.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Sleep was impossible. You'd been tossing and turning for hours, replaying the day's events in your mind—from that moment in the ocean to his deliberate almost-reveal during the game. The walls of this fancy beach house seemed paper thin at night, every small sound amplified in the darkness.
That's how you heard his door open around 2 AM, followed by quiet footsteps heading downstairs.
You waited a few minutes, telling yourself you were just thirsty, that going downstairs for water had nothing to do with knowing he was maybe down there. The wooden steps creaked softly under your bare feet as you made your way down.
Silvery moonlight streamed through the massive windows, creating silver patterns on the marble countertops of the kitchen. Satoru stood at the island, drinking water from a glass, looking unfairly handsome in just sleep shorts and a wrinkled t-shirt.
"Couldn't sleep?" he whispered when he spotted you.
"What's your game, Satoru?" You kept your voice equally low, padding closer. "That thing earlier? During never have I ever?"
"Game? I'm not the one who was afraid of drinking".
"Because unlike you, I don't feel the need to announce our business to everyone."
He set his glass down, turning to face you fully. "Our business? So you admit there's something to announce?"
"That's not—" You caught yourself before your voice could rise. "What are you trying to achieve here? With all the—" you gestured vaguely, "touching and teasing and almost exposing everything?"
He stepped closer, and suddenly the kitchen felt way too small, even though it was like three times the size of your Tokyo apartment. "Maybe I just want everyone to know that night wasn't as casual for me as you seem to think it was."
You felt the weight of his words settle in the quiet kitchen, heavy with meaning you weren't prepared to unpack while moonlight caught his features in a way that made him look softer, almost vulnerable.
"What are you talking about? It was only one night."
"Was it?" He moved closer, until you had to tilt your head back to keep eye contact. "Because I remember asking you to stay. I remember waking up to an empty bed and spent the next six months thinking about why you left."
"I... you were just saying that in the moment. People say lots of things in the moment."
"Do they?" His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Is that why you ran? Because you thought I didn't mean it?"
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore how your skin prickled where he'd touched you. "Satoru..."
"You know what I think?" His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper in the quiet kitchen. "I think you're scared. Not of me, but of the fact that you wanted to stay too."
"That's not—" But the words died in your throat as his thumb traced your jawline.
"Then why are you down here?" He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. "If it was just one night, just something casual, why did you follow me down here in the middle of the night?"
The counter pressed against your back—when had you started backing up?—and Satoru's arms came to rest on either side of you, caging you in. Position achingly familiar, reminding you of how this all started six months ago.
"I was thirsty," you said. You did not even believe yourself as you said it.
His laugh was barely a breath against your skin. "Liar."
And then his mouth was on yours, and god, you'd forgotten how good he was at this. His lips were soft but demanding, one hand sliding into your hair while the other gripped your hip, forcing you close against him. You gasped into the kiss, and he took the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue against yours in a way that made you forget your own name.
It was different from that first night—less urgent, but somehow more intense. He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, like he was laying claim to every moment you'd denied him these past six months. His teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite back a whimper, too aware of the sleeping house above.
"Still want to pretend this is nothing?" he whispered against your mouth, and you could feel his smile when your only response was to pull him back down for another kiss.
His hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as his mouth moved to your neck, kissing your throat just the way you like it, just the way he somehow remembered.
"Someone could come down," you breathed, even as your fingers tangled in his hair.
"Then I guess you'll have to be quiet." His teeth grazed your skin, making you shiver. "Think you can manage that? Because I distinctly remember you being quite vocal last time."
You tightened your grip on his hair in return, but that just made him groan softly against your throat. "You're stupid."
"Mm, that's not what you said in Tokyo." His hands slid higher under your shirt, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. "In fact, I remember you saying some very different things—"
You cut him off with another kiss, partly to shut him up and partly because you needed his mouth on yours like you needed air. His fingers teased along your ribs, your back, your thighs, touching you everywhere except where you desperately wanted him to.
But then his fingers found the edge of your underwear, and you had to bite his shoulder to keep from moaning as he slid his fingers inside you, making you cum all over his fingers in seconds—just like that night in Tokyo.
You were done, dizzy, breathless, clinging to him as he stripped your shorts and underwear down your legs. He pushed one leg up your chest as he lowered you back down onto the marble kitchen counter, your other leg still wrapped around his waist. His forehead pressed against yours as he thrust inside, hard, slow, perfect angle—just like that night in Tokyo.
He tossed you around, manhandled you, fucked you against the fridge, threw you onto the couch and fucked you there too. He whispered your name, his voice husky against your ear, every letter a caress, even as he picked up pace, even as his hand closed around your throat, even as you bit into the pillow below to muffle your screams as he made you cum again. Multiple times. In various positions. Using his own cum as a lube for the next round—just like that night in Tokyo.
Afterwards you laid outside on the veranda in a big chair you both shared, gazing up at the stars scattered across the deep velvet sky, countless and impossibly bright. A second later his lips found yours and another second later you were on top of him, underwear pushed to the side and your head thrown back as he watched you chase your release on his dick—just like that night in Tokyo.
And his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he ate you out on the stairs just before you wanted to go back to bed, but he wouldn't let you, making you cum again before he carried you off to the laundry room to fuck you one last time for sure good mesure—just like that night in Tokyo.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Morning came way too early, sunlight streaming through windows you'd forgotten to close. Every muscle in your body ached in the most pleasant way, reminding you of exactly how many surfaces you and Satoru had christened last night.
Yeah. You were definitely going to be feeling this for days. You winced slightly as you sat up — apparently kitchen counters weren't the most ergonomic choice for certain activities, or the stairs, or the laundry room, or... Okay, we get it.
When you finally made it downstairs, moving perhaps a bit more strangely than usual, Satoru was already at the breakfast table. Because of course he was, looking absolutely perfect and fullyfull rested in a fresh shirt, casually sipping his coffee like he hadn't spent half the night making you bite down on your fist to keep quiet.
"Well, someone looks rough," Nobara commented as you lowered yourself carefully into a chair. "Too much wine last night?"
You caught Satoru hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup. The bastard didn't even have the decency to look tired.
"Something like that," you muttered, reaching for the coffee pot and trying not to wince at the stretch. Your thighs burned in protest of the movement, and you could swear you saw Satoru's smile widening at your slight grimace.
"Must have been some wine," Nobara said, eyeing you suspiciously. "I don't remember you drinking that much during the game."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked, looking concerned. "You're walking kind of funny."
"I'm fine, really," you managed. "Too much wine, that’s all."
Maki, who sat next to you, leaned in closer. "Your 'too much wine' is showing," she whispered, pointing to your collarbone. Your hand flew to your neck, suddenly remembering all the attention Satoru had paid to that area—especially that moment on the stairs when you'd begged him to finish what he'd started before anyone heard them, while he sucked a very dark bruise right above your collarbone.
You quickly buttoned up your cotton shirt higher, but from Nobara's growing grin, it was too late. But thankfully, no one commented on it.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The rest of Sunday passed in a lazy haze, with everyone moving a bit slower thanks to varying degrees of wine headaches. Most of the day was spent sprawled out on beach chairs, hiding behind sunglasses and drinking coconut water that Yuta swore would help with hangovers (but, in fact, did not).
You dozed on and off under an umbrella, trying not to think about how your body still ached in several places from the night before, and enjoyed your last day in Okinawa before you'd return to work on Monday.
When evening rolled around and it was time to pack up, the house became a chaos of suitcases and forgotten phone chargers once more. You were struggling with your bag next to your car, trying to figure out the best angle to lift it into the trunk without stressing your still sore muscles, when Satoru suddenly appeared and took it from your hands without a word.
"I can manage," you protested, but he was already lifting it into your trunk with an effortless ease that really shouldn't be as attractive as it was.
"I'm sure you can," he said, closing your trunk with a soft thud. "But maybe I just want an excuse to do this."
Before you could ask what 'this' was, he pressed a small folded piece of paper into your palm. You opened it to find a phone number written in his surprisingly neat handwriting.
"Since you didn't stay for it last time," he said softly.
"What makes you think I'll use it?"
"Because this time, you want to stay just as much as I want you to." He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only you could hear. "Besides, I believe we still have a few surfaces in my apartment left to explore."
You shoved his shoulder. "Stop."
He caught your hand before you could push him again. "Use it. Please?" His voice held a note of softness, an unexpected tenderness that made your heart ache with a strange longing. You nodded, tucking the paper safely into your back pocket.
"Still not announcing anything to everyone tho," you warned as Maki called out that they were ready to leave.
"Yet," he said with an eye roll. Then, before you could react, he pulled you in for one last kiss. It was slower, deeper this time, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you, as if he was afraid he might forget the feel of your lips.
"Someone could see us," you whispered against his lips, even as your fingers curled into his shirt.
"I don't care," he murmured, one hand sliding down to your waist to draw you closer. "Let them see." He kissed you again, shorter this time but no less intense. "Besides, they'll find out soon enough when I take you to this little ramen place in Shibuya I've been wanting to show you."
You pulled back slightly. "Oh? Someone's confident about getting a second date."
"Third, technically," he said. "If we're counting Tokyo. And that thing against the washing machine last night."
"Those don't count.”
"Then I guess I'll have to make the next one special. Maybe dinner first. Then I can show you my apartment. Properly this time, not just the entrance hall and kitchen counter."
"Is that your way of asking me out?"
"That's my way of saying I'm not letting you disappear for six months again." He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Use my number this time, yeah?"
"Satoru!" Yuji's voice carried across the driveway. "Stop making out and help me with these bags!"
Satoru laughed against your lips, stealing one more kiss before reluctantly pulling away. "Think about it. The ramen place. My apartment. All the surfaces we haven't used yet."
"Go help Yuji," you said, pushing him away even as you smiled. "Before he comes over here."
"Call me," he said, walking backwards with that stupidly handsome smile. "Or I'll just have to show up at your office. Make a big scene. Maybe bring flowers. Really embarrass you in front of all your coworkers."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me!" He finally turned then to help with the bags, leaving you to shake your head, your lips still tingling from his kisses.
The drive home felt different somehow. Every now and then, your hand would drift to your pocket, fingers brushing over the folded paper with his number, making sure it was still there as the familiar roads back to Tokyo stretched ahead.
The beach house grew smaller in your rearview mirror until it disappeared completely, taking with it the memories of lazy afternoons under the summer sun and heated nights. But other things lingered—the ghost of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hands, the way he'd looked at you like you were something worth waiting for.
Maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Or maybe you'd wait a day or two, just to prove you could. But knowing you, you'd likely message him the moment you set foot in your apartment.
A smile tugged at your lips as you pulled onto the highway, the setting sun painting the sky in strokes of rose and lavender. Whatever happened next, one thing was for sure — this weekend had changed everything.
And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.
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author's note — and that's a wrap on our beach house summer story ! thank you so much for reading :)) & thank you again to @/nanamis-baker for beta reading !!
for anyone wondering, yes, she kept the shirt. and yes, he definitely noticed when she wore it to their first proper date to that ramen spot in shibuya.
if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a comment or reblog. it means so much !! until next time. stay thirsty hydrated, my friends <3
ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here.
tags — @fayuki @starmapz @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna @cocomanga
@nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @sugurbo @chiyokoemilia @janbannan
@bloopsstuff @snowsilver2000 @ihearttoru @momoewn @yokosandesu
@90s-belladonna @fairygardenprincesss
© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
Heavy Is The Head That Wears The Crown | Katsuki Bakugo x fem reader
synopsis: Being the Princess meant you were arranged to marry Prince Ito of the conjoining island for the sake of the kingdom, but the last thing you want is to marry someone you don’t love, and your other suitor isn’t someone your parents approve, but how can anyone stop true love from blooming? | wc: 6.9k
tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + not beta read + repost from my old blog + slow burn + no quirks au + forbidden love + talks about running away and doing it + I’m not well versed in the royal au but I did read up on it + enemies to lovers au but I skip them being enemies which you will see what I mean lol + prince Ito is an OC I just came up with and he’s an ass and is misogynistic + fem pet names + any missing tag pls lmk! + virginity loss for both parties + explicit smut + fingering + unprotected sex + creampie + oral both for you and Katsuki + teasing + fluffy smut + cum eating + slight dirty talking + blood because of v loss + finger sucking + praising + breast/nipple play + Katsuki is soft and maybe ooc + overstim + I think that’s all! + again lmk any missing tag(s)!
Boring and stuffy is exactly how you would describe the scene unfolding in front of you, your parent’s ballroom is chock-full of pretentious people who fall in line with your mother and father.
The pair you despise because while you’re their daughter they have never looked at you like that before, it was always: what can you do to make their lives better? Never the other way around.
Thoughts of your childhood disappeared like a bubble being popped when you heard someone clear their throat, you turned to look who it was, an insult dripping off your tongue when you came face to face with Prince Ito, the man you were set to marry to better the Kingdom and knew it was best to keep your mouth shut.
You wanted to bite your lip, not in a sexy way either, but one that showed you were on your last nerve. He looked at you with confusion clouding his eyes and a slight smirk as to say ‘You’re stuck with me’ as his hand slipped into yours.
“We’re supposed to be getting married, so well to remember that my dear.”
Oh, how you wanted to regurgitate your dinner all over his shoes. Your eyes drifted around the packed room in an effort to ignore him, everyone was dressed in suffocating clothes, even you.
It felt like hell, the temperature of what felt like flames licking the cream-colored walls, bits of gold and warm tones drowned out everything but the piano music in the corner.
The feeling of so many bodies also added to the hellish feeling, and the damn dress you had to wear was so tight you were sure your ribs were cracking with each inhale.
That even grated your already fried nerves feeling your soon-to-be husband pulling you closer, instantly you pulled away catching the gaze of your other courtship, the forbidden man you kept close to your heart.
Katsuki Bakugo, the man that deep down in every crevice of your heart is your soulmate, you just haven’t told him yet, it was a delicate matter at hand truly.
You looked at the brown-haired man and suppressed an eye roll, his eyes roamed your body greedily no doubt wondering just when he got to rip your dress off.
He was someone your parents chose, someone who thought he was king shit of turd island, that made you smile at the mental joke. “Ready to dance?” He asked.
Again you glanced over toward Katsuki’s direction not seeing him anymore, you hummed in disappointment sweeping the room and not seeing him still but you remembered what he looked like, you always would no matter what.
Tonight he donned a dark gray suit, notes of red and dark green peeked out between the contrast of the three colors, it hugged him well, not like a second skin but enough to show off the muscles he worked hard for and the scars that littered his body.
His blonde hair was a mess as always, pieces of it always stuck up like he was in a strong wind tunnel, another thing that made you break out in a grin, the man next to you cleared his throat clearing growing irritated with you ignoring him.
“We need to show to our parents that we’re a right fit, you-”
You turned on your heel wanting to stomp on his foot but instead, you forced a smile and nodded, knowing that if you had to open your mouth insults would just fly out instead, his hand was so sweaty it made you feel gross to even hold.
Prince Ito made his way through the people that instantly parted letting you two through, he really wasn’t a prince to you anyway, just another whiny man-child whose family came from the other island that was situated next to your parents. The land didn’t belong to them, or anyone really in your opinion.
But it didn’t matter, you were a good they could trade to better their lives, your life was at stake pretty much, honestly, at times you felt no better than the hard pieces of bread that the island’s trade, one has more fruits and grains than the other and the Ito island has oil and the vegetables, so a lot of trading was done.
Even your own life was something that was traded, your family could produce an heir for his family, and yours and his parents were like yours, however, you and your wanna-be husband felt very different about that. He basked in the glow of being the only child, his pompous attitude made you ill and your eyes roll.
“What has your attention my sugarplum?” Ito asked as he tugged you to the middle of the floor, bodies made their way to the side to let you both dance, his hand clasped yours never letting go, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist keeping you pinned against him.
The use of the nickname was enough to make you visibly roll your eyes this time catching him off guard. If anything, you both need to keep a clean image, not a princess who would roll her eyes and defies the man. “Sorry, and nothing does. I’m just getting a bit famished.”
“Well, in that case, I have a stick of meat that could fill you.” His hands slid down to your ass cupping the flesh, or well what he thought it was, most of it was your damn dress that he bunched up making you very uncomfortable.
Your lips curled in disgust, and your free hand came to stop on his chest pushing him away to get some fresh air, and not his rancid breath filling your nostrils, it wasn’t awful smelling, it was the vibe you got from him that was musty and each time he opened his mouth it poured out.
Ito growled low in his throat, which was meant to come across as a warning of sorts but all it did was make you angrier, and just about as you were to say something you felt Katsuki step behind you, his scent instantly calming.
“I think the princess doesn’t want to dance with you anymore, Prince Handsy.” He muttered in a low tone that made you shiver.
It wasn’t a death threat which is something he throws out to anyone who inconveniences you, his fiery eyes never left the other man who stared back. It was a warning for now.
Before you or Ito could say anything, Katsuki removed you from his grip and out of the ballroom letting you melt against him, his back pressed against the wall as you all but tried to merge with him. “Thank you for that, he was getting on my nerves.”
“I could tell, sugarplum,” He teased with a smirk as he stared at you, the words on the tip of his tongue, the ones you so desperately wanted to spill like ink on paper, the both of you know that him being nothing but a royal guard for your family and you the princess it would never be approved.
But that didn’t stop you, Katsuki has been by your side since you were both children, you met him outside of the gates the one day you were able to slip away from the guards, at seven years old it wasn’t hard to fit it when you did get free.
Just as soon as you walked into the mouth of the town, with dusty cobbled roads and people milling about buying and trading goods, someone ran into you, a blonde boy around your age chasing two boys, one with red hair and the other with black and green hair.
Blondie was yelling at the two-toned boy, something about him being a loser or to that effect while swinging his toy sword around in triumph.
His lips curled almost in disgust when you approached them ready to join in, other children weren’t invited into the kingdom so the life you led thus far has been extremely lonely.
“We don’t play with girls.” Blondie snarled holding a wooden sword, his tattered clothes held a belt around his waist.
“I can tell, no need to be rude about it. Scared a girl is going to kick your butt?” You spit glaring at him as you grabbed the Red’s sword from his hands, his small mouth popping open staring at you getting into a fighting stance.
Red opened his mouth ready to say something before you drew the toy with a wide grin setting it against Blondie’s neck, his vermillion eyes swept over your whole body taking in your appearance, it was clear you belonged inside the gates and not out and Katsuki knew.
“No, I’m not, but you need to scram princess before you get hurt.”
Both of you were caught in a stare-off, everything around you melted away as you took in his appearance, dirt streaked through his hair and on his cheeks, it was just as clear that he was a family that lived far away from the castle gates, and that made you angry.
Not at him, but at your parents and all the adults who think this is okay, something you really can’t fight about now but now with the judging stare from Blondie it made you angrier, just as you opened your mouth to say something you were picked up and escorted back home.
The Queen made sure her servants scolded you instead, but all they did was make sure you were washed up and ready to go in the morning for some type of benefit the King threw.
Then a year later little Blondie came into the kingdom after losing his village and was raised as a royal guard, mostly to you due to how close you two were in age.
Now that you and Katsuki are in your mid-twenties the tension of being enemies melted away, but not all of it. Sometimes you two still nipped at each other.
But right now all you could focus on was being with Katsuki like this, his arms wrapped around your waist letting you sag against him. “I really don’t want to marry him, he’s no better than the cow pies in the fields.”
“Cow pies? You mean shit. Prince Idiot is pure flaming hot-”
You slapped your hand over his mouth hearing footsteps down the hall, fear wrapped around your spine like a frozen hand. No doubt it was the other guards, the ones who were under your parent’s thumb, unlike the man you were pressed against right now staring at you intently.
Do you understand that Katsuki would run away with you? He’d never let you go without, even though it won’t be in the kingdom he still wanted to care for you. He could hear the hushed tones of the men, your name making you curl more into him scared they’ll find you.
He wanted nothing more than to grab their heads and knock them together, anything that caused you stress weighed on him too, a much different person he’s become Katsuki thought as his fingers curled in your dress kissing your forehead. “Shh.” He told you before stepping out of the shadows.
“She isn’t over in this area, I thought I saw her but it was a dead lead,” Katsuki told them, his voice never wavered or showed he was lying, you watched him drinking him in, the way he all but towered over a lot of people including you, tall and just there. He’s the best guard to have.
One guard nodded while the others looked at him with curious looks, of course, it wasn’t a secret but to you and Katsuki that you two were madly in love, everyone could tell, however, it was still not seen by each other for some reason you were both blinded by it.
Once they turned and left back to the ballroom to report to your parents you stepped out of the shadows to envelop Katsuki in a tight hug, his arms quickly wrapped around you not really wanting to let go just yet, you both stood there in the large hallway in a warm embrace.
He smelt like warmth and spices, along with an earthy undertone that made you want to run away with him to the forest, the both of you could easily make a home and you would do it in a heartbeat, Katsuki means way too much to you to let go, you buried your face in him before stepping away looking at him, the charged gaze made you almost beg for a kiss.
Instead, you slipped your hand in his and kissed his gloved-clad one. “I should get back, but I promise to see you later.” You left him with a kiss on the cheek before turning away feeling the sting of tears knowing he doesn’t see you the way you see him, he thinks of you like a sister or the annoying Princess he has to babysit.
Katsuki stood rooted in his place growing angry at himself, sure, he was brash and crude and had not a problem telling anyone off but when it came to his feelings he choked on them because he was terrified you’d laugh at him when he confessed. That’s something he’s not sure he would be able to handle.
He hasn’t even kissed anyone else, you’re literally his first for everything, and by kissing it’s just a peck on the forehead from him and you always leave a lipstick print on his cheek or sometimes you’ll hold his head and give him a forehead smooch.
You always left him with something, whether it is a hug, kiss, some type of gift or even just patting his hand there was always something that left him wondering about you during the night, sometimes he’d touch himself just like you do but that was a secret you’d both die with before telling each other or anyone else.
Thankfully, he was a few rooms down from you in case something happened and he can reach you, and it’s shocking that your parents would let him because they sense the relationship that has been blooming since childhood, but Katsuki is the only person who would protect you this fiercely.
With a great sigh, he entered the ballroom again, his stupid outfit made him itch all over, it wasn’t his usual uniform but a suit to make him blend in a bit better with the crowd, but everyone knew who he was, it was very obvious uniform or not.
Katsuki watched you with him, Ito’s arm around your waist keeping you flush against him, his other hand holding yours in a tight hold making sure you didn’t leave him, the possessive gesture made his blood boil, but he knew it wasn’t the right time to say anything or do something.
He wasn’t even sure if you felt the same way he did, so all Katsuki did was lean against the wall watching the other people dance, his red eyes swept over everyone keeping his gaze still on you mostly, it was clear you were uncomfortable.
Your eyebrows were pinched in the middle and your lips were in a thin line pressing them together, he knew you were irritated and not very happy about dancing with him this close, the asshole thought he knew you from head to toe.
Ito attempted to make a joke he heard when he came closer, the smell of your heavy perfume only worn by you made his stomach erupt with a million butterflies it felt like, their soft wings brushing against each other, if anyone else wore it, it made him sick.
Your eyes connected with his in a heated gaze looking at him with a soft smile, the look Ito caught on made him curl his fingers under your chin turning you to face him with a sick smile, his lips were cracked and you swore you smelt the evil from him.
“Why do you keep looking at everyone but me? I’m the only man you need to be staring at.”
Sickness crept up your throat as his eyes burned into yours with such intensity, there was something that made a chill rack your body, just when you opened your mouth to reply your Father interrupted.
“We need you two to come to the front please, it’s time to announce the marriage between him and you to the Kingdom.”
Your heart dropped all the way to your stomach, dread replaced everything you felt, and the reality of the situation is coming to a head, once that is announced what was happening you knew it would be harder to get out of, and if you left you’d be shunned from the Kingdom and your parents.
Ito smiled and squeezed your hand with a sicker grin, the gleam in his eyes reminded you of a demon that terrorized the village well before you were born but the pictures and stories that were passed down by each generation were fresh in your mind.
“Can you please give me a moment? I’d like to freshen up before we do anything.” You asked with a soft smile, it hurt to force it but thankfully neither Ito or your Father could tell, even when they watched you walk to Katsuki to ask him to walk you to your room.
Once you both were out of the ballroom and out of ear shop from people you slid your hand in his. “We’re leaving right now, my dad wants to announce the marriage between us and I can’t do it, I won’t. I refuse to end up miserable like my mom.”
Katsuki watched you with a smirk as he followed you to your room, after the door was shut you looked around taking it in once more, the room that has housed you for the past twenty-some years is now held so many memories.
It made your heart crack a bit, and tears stung your eyes but you buried that for a moment and packed a small basket you kept under your bed away from prying eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Katsuki asked taking things he could sell.
There was no way in hell he was going to leave you alone and you knew that. “Yes, this is hell on earth and I don’t want to be a Queen, I can’t do what they do, and know what I know. When I first met you-” You stopped mid-sentence and sighed.
He sat on the edge of your bed watching you intently, his lips pressed in a thin line like yours were earlier, you knew he was chewing on his next sentence holding the things in his bag that sat in his lap before helping you pack the nightgowns.
All your other dresses wouldn’t fit in and the last thing you want is to wear them anymore, now it is time for you to live your life. The way you want to, and it wouldn’t matter if you tried to set new rules, they would be overruled by King Ito.
The thought of what was to come made you shiver. “Thank you, Kats, I really do appreciate what you’re doing.” You told him finishing up your packing.
“Don’t thank me and don’t call me that, I told you that before.” He grumbled standing up, but you knew he was joking a bit, his nickname as a kid made him think about the way he feels about you, and now is not the time.
Quickly you both finished up and got everything ready, briefly Katsuki wondered why anyone hasn’t come to get you yet but they think he’s helping you.
Oh, is he really helping you with everything you need. He peeked his head out of your door turning his head side to side and sweeping the empty halls, he strained to listen for footsteps.
Silence only greeted him, giving you both one minute to sneak down to the door that led outside from the lower level, it was a secret you discovered years ago.
Katsuki held your hand tight leading you down the flight of steps, momentarily pressing yourselves against the wall hearing voices carry down the stone hall.
“Make sure to stay hidden.” He reminded you giving your hand a light squeeze while glancing back at you, quickly you fixed the silk around your head covering most of your face up.
You nodded staying silent but only to take a deep breath in when you stepped outside, the sun instantly warmed you up, and the free feeling you got only amplified.
“Go look for her!” Both of you heard a voice cry out, thankfully now under the bridge so no one could see you watching a few guards and your mom and dad, then of course, Ito was standing in front of everyone with his arms crossed over his chest looking like an angry child.
You giggled a bit catching Katsuki’s attention who looked over at you with furrowed eyebrows, his hand coming up to muffle your laughter at the supposed man who you were set to marry, his face screwed up and red as he sputtered out more threats and demanded they find you.
After you removed his hand away from his mouth you turned around to face the wall, looking behind your shoulder at him, the way your lips parted made his cock twitch in his pants as you smiled softly. “Please unlace this, I am dying and I can’t breathe in this stupid thing.”
Katsuki stepped closer to you, his gloved fingers untying the silk watching you inhale deeply, the charged air around you two crackled with sensual and high tension, he could smell your sweet shampoo and you, his musk, how bad you wanted to turn, and kiss him sat in your stomach like a rock.
“Thanks, Kats, I appreciate you and this too.” His mouth was open ready to snap at you until you turned around to stare at him, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes with a sad smile, and he thought it was because you were going to miss your family, but that was the least of your worries.
He opened his arms letting you settle in them melting against him. “You’re my favorite pain in the ass, you know?” Katsuki said looking at you, fire dancing in his vermillion eyes.
“I hope I’m the only pain in your ass, otherwise what would be the point?” You asked in a teasing tone batting your heavy lashes and hearing the people fade away from the bridge, most likely going back to check the castle again, the sad look you held now faded.
An hour later you both didn’t hear anything, not even people walking over the bridge, Katsuki told you to wait there while he checked, thankfully no one was around when he helped you up the grassy cliff and quickly drag you to the edge of the forest, the sun setting cast a shadow over you both.
“I found a small house when I was exploring and over the last few months I made sure to add some fire logs and clean it up for us,” Katsuki told you getting past the mouth of trees, it was a plan set in stone the moment you turned ten, the age you were told about marrying Ito.
Hand in hand you walked close to him using him for warmth and comfort glancing around the bare trees, it was beginning to get cooler and the trees were now losing their buds, the warm air becoming rigid. “This is why you’re my favorite pain in the ass.”
Katsuki chuckled and rolled his eyes huffing a bit at the compliment, he stayed silent the entire walk never letting go of your hand as he led you to the small house, more like a cabin that has been sitting there unoccupied until now, thankfully he cleaned all the spiderwebs and stuff up.
The sun dipped almost to the horizon by the time you both reached the front door, sweat beaded along your nape watching Katsuki toe the heavy wood open letting you in first taking in your new living situation, everything was in the big square, minus the bathroom thankfully.
A huge bay window faced the back of the house giving you a clear view of the tall trees, you dropped the bag and began to undress yourself down to the thin slip you wore under all the layers before sitting on the creaky bed, the springs groaning under your weight.
Katsuki watched you with heated eyes, it was not the time to pop a boner but it couldn’t be helped seeing you flop on your back, the bottom hem of your dress rolling up to your mid-thigh. “This is so much better than that castle, it was so stuffy and miserable there, the ghosts haunting us.” You murmured out loud staring up at the wooden ceiling noting the decay.
“You really still think ghosts roamed those halls?” He asked kicking his heavy boots off before moving to the fireplace and setting it up, the fire crackling instantly warming up the small room Katsuki sat in front of it removing his gloves and hearing the bed creak as you rolled to your side.
“Yep,” You popped the p and sat up crossing your legs, “I sure do, you’ve heard all the stories they told us and everything that’s been going on, all of the people who lived there I believe are condemned to stay there forever, why should their souls rest when they put our people through hell? I can’t be the Queen for that reason, let alone Ito’s wife.”
You spit venom saying his name, the feeling of his creepy stare and his hands made you ill thinking about it. “I understand, and you’re-” Katsuki cut off swallowing his tongue, the confession almost spilled from his lips.
“I’m what?” You asked getting off the bed to walk over to him crouching down next to him, your head laying on his back before wrapping your arms around him, the feeling of your touch made his heart jump to his throat.
“Nothing, you need a bath though. You stink.” He murmured changing the topic and lucky for him it worked this time, you giggled and smacked his shoulder gently knowing standing up and grabbing your basket of clothes and washes.
Katsuki joined you pulling his gloves back on before opening the door and holding his hand out for you, it was an unspoken agreement just in case something happens and he feels better knowing he can protect you if something happens.
Thankfully it was only a short walk to the clear creek that ran between several trees packed together, the cool wind bit at you but it felt nice being in the cramped room, and you knew your nipples were pebbled and rubbing against your silk slip, the moonlight was perfect this evening giving him a clear view of you.
Katsuki did everything not to look, he doesn’t want to think of himself as someone like Ito knowing he would stare without a care in the world. “Are you just going to watch?” You asked with a sly smile setting the woven basket down and watching him turn his back to you shaking his head.
“No, I’m not a creep. Just hurry up woman.” He mumbled crossing his arms over his chest and listening to you slip into the cold water, you gasped at the sensation and splashed around the water once you got used to it.
Katsuki never once turned to look, even though his heart was beating a bit too fast for him and the fact that his dick had a mind of its own getting hard, the tip leaky and sticky in his pants made it uncomfortable and shameful. Being a virgin at this age was embarrassing enough.
He wanted to palm himself in the worst way possible, it was difficult not to, especially when he glanced back at the same time you came back up breaking the water’s surface, your skin bare to his eyes feasting on you, water dripped down your face like it was his favorite wet dream.
“Are you watching your best friend bathe? You little pervert.” You teased splashing water over the muddy sides of the creek with a smirk, it warmed you more than anything knowing he wanted to stare, you could read him like an open book now and the thought of him liking you more than friends was enough to get out and dry off then get dressed.
Katsuki ignored you and your antics knowing if he spoke it would come out hoarse, thick with desire then he felt your hand slide in his before walking back to the house, the moon high and bright giving you both plenty of light to guide you both back where he locked every window up.
Once you were warmed up and dried off you slid in the bed with Katsuki watching him sit on the side, his ass almost hanging off while he was still fully dressed, boots including. “Are you going to sleep in your clothes? You’re wearing leather and it doesn’t look comfortable.”
“I’m fine,” He mumbled causing you to frown, he went rigid feeling you crawl over to him kneeling behind him, your fingers dancing over his broad shoulders as you leaned in kissing his cheek and shaking your head.
“Don’t be scared, it’s not like I haven’t seen you almost naked anyway.” You murmured in a teasing voice, your lips pressed against the shell, and while you couldn’t see the goosebumps raising over him you knew they were by the way he shivered.
Katsuki growled softly when your fingers slid down his chest now pressing your chest against his back, his hands coming up to yours stopping them. “I-” His voice was strained as he stayed still looking down at the floor.
It’s now or never you thought feeling warmth trickle through you. “I love you Katsuki, so much, I harbored these feelings for long enough now I think and you helped me through everything. We fought at times and got on each other’s nerves but I don’t want anyone but you.”
He turned his head to stare at you, his own words dying on his tongue and instead of speaking them Katsuki leaned in and kissed you, his lips sought yours in a tender meeting that slowly grew needy until you were seated in his lap, your tongues tangled together now.
It was sloppy with your arms wrapped around his neck, the bottom hem of your slip rolled up to your thighs as you grabbed his left wrist holding his hand to your swollen lips staring at him with lust-blown pupils bitting down on the leather removing his glove before moving to the other one.
Katsuki thought his dick was going to explode right then and there feeling the warmth of your bare pussy soaking into his pants, your eyes trained on his and half-lidded as you leaned back in to kiss him again swiping your tongue between his lips before pecking them several times.
“I’m a virgin.” You whispered against his lips. Now he was sure it would explode. Your confession set his heart on fire, he was sure this was your first kiss just like him, the both of you took the time to explore each other’s bodies, first, you removed his gloves then his leather jacket and shirt running your open palms over his chest and stomach.
Katsuki laid on his back letting you straddle him, his own fingers tracing up and down your arms eliciting goosebumps as he pulled the straps of your dress down baring your breasts to him, the fire crackled in the background but you still heard him suck in a deep breath as he cupped the flesh.
He palmed them at first before running his hands up and down your sides, then back to your breasts and shoulders, everywhere he touched left a trail of fire and desire, needy you leaned down kissing him again letting him hold your hips tightly grinding you against him.
“I’ve always thought about this Kats, you’re much better than my dreams.” You whispered in his ear trailing kisses all over his face and neck that you littered with love bites, he stared at you with pink cheeks as he huffed before quickly flipping you to your back.
He grunted in response settling himself between your spread legs. “Lift that pretty ass of yours up.” You were quick to listen lifting your hips and butt up watching him shimmy off your slip, his vermillion eyes feasted upon your naked form just as you did the same thing.
Katsuki had no idea what to do, his first action was kissing your thighs nibbling a bit, he listened to your moans and pleas and how you fisted the sheet wanting him to kiss you where it really mattered. His tongue lolled out once he was face to face with your slick pussy.
He inhaled your musk deeply making sure to ingrain it inside him, he wanted to devour you, the woman who put the sun and moons in the sky for him, the only person who understand the broken part of him, you always saw him as who he is and never what he pretended to be.
Your fingers curled in his blonde locks when he licked a wide stripe up your pussy from your fluttering hole all the way up to your clit which he sucked in at first before swirling the tip of his tongue around the bud, he still wasn’t sure if this was okay but judging from your sounds it was.
Never has anyone told him how to please a woman or anything, but you were such a good teacher, and letting him explore, he pulled away spreading you open. “Ow! Not so rough!” You mewled when he did it a bit too much.
“Sorry, I’m a virgin too.” He admitted watching you sit up, your eyes filled with hot need, the thought of him giving you something so special caused your heart to swell in your throat, you leaned down and kissed his head before laying back again.
He continued gaining the courage to rub at your clit, at first he rubbed your left lower labia before letting you move his fingers to the throbbing bud moaning his name over and over until he slowly slid his fingertip inside you. “Holy shit.” Katsuki groaned feeling you tight around him.
Every piece of you filled the missing pieces of him, all the cracks in his heart you filled with your own love, one of the many things he loved about you, and oh how it grew over the years once you two were over the bickering and knew it was better to get along.
Now his heart beat just for you, nothing else mattered really to him but to protect you, and his goal was to make sure you didn’t marry Ito and now here you are under him moaning his name fucking yourself back on fingers and humping his mouth.
It didn’t take him long thankfully in figuring out what you liked and how to make you feel good, his tongue buried in your cunt sucking and licking away the mess you made from the first orgasm that he talked you through. “So good, keep coming for me, sweetheart.”
Katsuki ground his own hips against the bed fucking the blanket wanting to desperately feel you around him, he just didn’t want to cause you any more pain, he pulled away smelling the heavy sex in the air along with the damp earth undertones.
He looked down at you with the moonlight washing over him from the bare windows, the fire behind him cast a glow making it look like he was a king and he was, he’s your King. “Katsuki, please, I need you.” You begged with a hoarse voice from the moaning and whimpering.
Quickly he pulled his fingers out sliding his hand up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. “Part those pretty lips for me.” He demanded in a gentle tone watching your lips open, his fingers pressed in on your tongue.
Closing your lips around him you held his wrist sucking his fingers clean never breaking his stare while grinding your pussy against his throbbing cock coating the length of him with your slick feeling the tip barely grazing your fluttering hole with a soft sigh.
“Katsuki - please I wanna taste your dick.” The lewd words spilled from your mouth when he removed his fingers with a groan quickly sitting on his ass and spreading his legs watching you scramble to kneel between his thighs rubbing them.
He watched you bend at the waist to kiss and lick the head tasting the salty pre-cum, your fingers wrapped around the base giving it experimental jerks of your wrist glancing up at him, his eyes screwed shut, your mouth and hand much better his own palm and thoughts.
“You look so pretty with my dick like this, I love how you taste too. I-I love you.” Katsuki admitted in a rush of words, he stared at you afraid of your next reaction.
“I would die for you. Kill for you, do anything you asked me to if you found peace or pleasure or whatever else from it. Please, please, let me burn the world around us for you, I never want to leave this place unless it’s with you, you’re my home and heart.” You whispered your own confession.
Katsuki pushed you on your back again covering his body with yours pressing your legs back and open seeking your mouth in a hot and deep kiss moving his hands to hold yours, fingers intertwining together. “The only peace and pleasure I get are from staring at you, being in your presence is nothing better, all the finest gold in the world has nothing against you.”
His words swirled in your head as he slowly slid the head of his cock inside you feeling you tighten around him at first trying to push him out, you whined softly wrapping your arms around his neck. “Take me, I know you can, this pussy is mine now and my dick is all for you, so take it the way you were meant to princess.”
“Oh my, Katsuki!” You yelped when he pushed deeper until he was halfway in he pulled out seeing a thin sheen of blood, the guilt ate at him but feeling you tug on his neck which pulled him away from his thoughts.
“I’m ok, please don’t stop.” You murmured kissing his jaw with soft kisses as you ground your hips seeking more of him, Katsuki bared his teeth at how tight and wet you were when he bottomed out with a low growl in his throat.
He stayed still letting you adjust to him, stars burst behind your eyes giving him the last piece of your soul. “I love you Katsuki Bakugo.” You whispered kissing him again in a silent way to tell him it was okay to move.
Katsuki rocked his hips against yours going slow while reaching his hand down between your bodies to rub at your clit feeling you tighten around him with a loud moan. “I love how your pussy molds to me, told you we were meant to be.” He groaned in your ear picking up the pace.
Pleasure clouded all thoughts as you ground your hips against him when his mouth latched on your nipple sucking it deep in his mouth fucking you harder now, the only thing you could feel was him, not the warmth from the fire, not the sheets under you or anything else.
Katsuki has now totally invaded you and everything else, but it was a mutual feeling, the way he kissed every inch of skin while making love to you now, his praises melted and dripped down to the pool of hot desire in your stomach.
“You will have my last name someday, maybe even soon. Now we can be together, forever.” His forehead rested against yours before he pulled away and out helping you to your hands and knees, the pillow was shoved aside as he slowly thrust back in feeling his orgasm bubble up.
His hands held your hips in a tight hold bottoming out, he kept a soft pace letting you bounce back against him chasing your own high, his balls tightened when you threw your head back staring at him moaning his name and quickly he came filling you up thick and warm.
He wasn’t done by any means, once you both came down from the highs he laid on the bed helping you straddle his lap and riding him while holding his hands and grinding your hips down before bouncing up and down and hearing the creaking of the bed fill the small room.
“Katsuki! You feel so good inside me!” You panted feeling sweat drip down your back while using his cum as lube to sit all the way up leaving just the tip in before slowly dropping back down finding his mouth in a hot kiss fucking him wildly.
Neither of you was sure how long it was before you both lay next to each other panting and sweating, his cock soft and aching as you rolled to your side curling against him with a soft smile and droopy eyes from exhaustion seeping in. “Let’s do that every night.”
Katsuki nodded in agreement knowing that you both were finally happy and free together, forever.
it lives where i live
part 2 is here! this was a difficult one to write because there’s so much i want to say and i have no idea how to say any of it. but this is an important one and i hope you enjoy it :)
wc: 3.4 k. cw: angst, unintentional self-harm (touya scratches himself in his sleep), injury (scratch), blood (scratch), reader is not well mentally, gn reader, no pronouns used
read part 1 here
There is a warmth against your cheek when you stir, creeping up to heat the skin of your forehead as you stretch and squirm—fighting the lure of just a few more moments of sleep. Blinking slowly, you study the beam of light peaking through the sheer curtains—the way the little refraction cuts through the otherwise dark of your room.
For a moment, in the light, you forget.
But when you roll to your side—away from the light, looking to the door—you feel everything with a force that leaves you breathless.
Despite the weight of it all, you push up off your bed to sit, head hung a little as you take in a few deep breaths. The house is quiet, but you didn’t expect anything else. Your eyes burn a little, and you wait for the tears to come. When they don’t, you sigh—there’s nothing good to come from crying, anyway.
You stand and move to the door, opening it quietly and distantly wondering when you started moving around like an intruder in your own home. There’s a heat that comes with the thought—it curls in your stomach, slithering around the other feelings you’ve been holding there, and you shove it down, down, down, because you don’t want to be angry at him. Because he’s been through enough.
You don’t listen to the thought that tells you: so have you.
When you walk down the hall, the bathroom door is open, and Touya’s bedroom door is not. He must have woken up before you, if he slept at all. You don’t imagine you’ll see him today—at least not during the day. You fight the urge to hover outside his door, ear crammed to the wood to try to hear him breathing.
Keep reading
MARRY THE TRAITOR ; gojo satoru
⟡ the day you met your demise is the same day you met gojo satoru, your betrothed from a world so different from yours—a cruel prince who is undoubtedly in love with someone else. as the stakes rise and you race against the clock to beat your brutal fate, can you make the ultimate choice between your heart or your happily ever after?
includes: fem!reader, reader is a florist in our world, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, yandere!gojo, prince!gojo, princess!reader, reader is in cerena's body, princess cerena is described to have pink hair and feminine features, isekai-ed reader, mentions of death, mentions of blood, assault, injuries, smoking, mentions of terminal illnesses (cancer), language
⟡ masterlist
ACT 1, SCENE 1: MIRI'S REPRIEVE
It was horrifyingly cold tonight.
Your body seized with bouts of shivers the second you stepped out of your shop, the smell of roses lingering in your hair. The lights are already switched off, the tulips you were shearing just a few seconds ago placed in crystal vases by the shop window to keep them from wilting overnight.
However, as much as you try to distract yourself, there’s a shake in your hands you cannot ignore.
Pulling out a crumpled cigarette from your jacket pocket, you burn the end of the white stick with your cheap convenience store lighter, watching the flickering flames cast shadows across the wet road as you’re suddenly struck by a thought from a long, long time ago.
The great Greek philosopher, Plato, once theorized that humans were born whole.
Each of us, regardless of race, creed, or religion, shared one body, four arms, four legs and two faces fused together on a singular head.
However, the gods—vain as they were—feared the human’s increasing power and Zeus himself devised to split them into two separate parts, forever condemning mortals to search for their other half in a journey filled with despair, longing and loneliness.
The first time you heard this in Philosophy 101, a part of you was intrigued, if not a little terrified at the notion. While you weren’t a particularly huge subscriber to the idea of having a soulmate, it did have a sense of appeal for a girl raised on stories of handsome princes saving dainty princesses from their castles of grief and isolation.
But, tonight, your jumbled mind can’t stay on Plato or distractions for too long. It constantly circles back to your mom.
The scans she took had came back positive, and the doctor’s bleak voice on the other end of the line read like a death knell to your flimsy hopes that the cancer hadn’t spread further than her stomach.
Your eyes weighed heavily, the burden of knowing sanding you to the bare bones till you felt close to breaking down on the cold road, screaming and shaking your fist at the night sky; cursing the gods for tearing the only person in the world who still loved you from your side.
Why they did it, you will never know.
You weren’t exceptionally powerful nor did you pose a threat to the deities above. You were a simple florist in the middle of the city, trying to make ends meet and pay all your bills on time; nothing but a tax-paying citizen and a role model for small business women trying to make it big in a competitive city.
Smoke curls around your figure and you suck on the nicotine, letting it coat the back of your throat and numb the ends of your fingers.
Oblivious to your surroundings, you tread past an alleyway, ignoring the scampering of rats and smell of garbage burning through your nose. You inhale another toxic breath, expelling it out and watching the plume of smoke disappear upwards.
“Hey.”
Nothing could prepare you for what came next.
Turning around to appraise the voice calling you from the shadows, white hot pain cracks through your head, leaving you blind from the sudden assault.
Your cigarette falls somewhere at your feet, and you tumble to the gravelly ground on your hands and knees, skinning your palms as your ragged breaths echo in this dilapidated and abandoned alleyway.
A hand shoots out to grab your purse, and before you can croak a yell or blindly turn to confront your assailant, another blow cracks down your skull, making you collide face first into the dirt-packed ground.
Pain explodes in your face, white-hot and agonizing. Your breathing and the sound of blood rushing through your ears is the only thing you can hear as you breathe in the smell of dirt and blood, your head feeling like a thousand sparks of pain were going off at once.
Cracking open your good eye, you catch a sliver of light in the distance; it washes over you, potent and soothing. The light at the end of the alleyway shimmers, and you think this is it—this is the last thing you will see from this world.
Not your mother’s smile, or your best friend’s laugh. There are no flowers in your hand, no loved ones standing over your sickbed to kiss your cheek one last time before you depart this world.
It’s you, the floor, the blood trickling in your mouth, and your consciousness slowly ebbing away.
The last thing you remember before your world snuffs out like a pathetic candle is seeing the beady eyes of a rat shining in the dark, its long tail curling around its dirty body as it scampers closer and closer to you.
And then, nothing else remains.
“... care to explain yourself?”
The world is too bright, much too loud and you cringe back, a loud ringing clanging in your ears like the high-pitched squeal of a thousand nails on a chalkboard.
What… is this scene?
Your eyes struggle against the bright light and you wince, throwing your hand up to your face to ward off the glare.
When your gaze finally focuses, you’re confronted by a pair of ice cold blue eyes, his sneer tearing through your mind like a bloody gash on white canvas.
“Are you an imbecile?” His chilling tone laced with arrogance and contempt sears through you, leaving you mute and dumbstruck from this stranger’s sudden hostility. “I asked you if you would like to explain the accusations brought against you for hurting Miri.”
A girl with bright red hair and freckles splashed across her cheeks looks up at you with fear in her eyes. You take a step back, assessing her attire and countenance with open horror. Her pale face like the moon, dirt-streaked hands with stubby nails and a uniform splotched with indiscernible stains.
But, that isn’t what draws your attention: it’s the look of contempt secretly masked under her woeful and pitiful expression. Those green eyes burn through you with the force of a thousand deaths, each one more painful than the last.
“Cerena.”
Your eyes grow wider when you realize this strange man is speaking to you—calling you by an unknown name.
As your attention shifts back to him, you’re stunned and breathless. His shock of pure white hair, towering stature and cruel, azure gaze never yields from your expressions, thin lips twisted into a baleful grimace. His attire is one you have never seen before: a regal, embroidered jacket and matching pants in the darkest shade of navy blue. Regalia and military medals drip from the lapels of his jacket like icy tears, each metallic glint striking more fear into your heart as you take in his majestic and imposing demeanor.
“I said, speak, wench!”
Dexterous and pale fingers, like that of a violinist, grasps your jaw painfully as he jerks your face towards him. Instinctively, you tense and push him away, a petrified look on your face.
“Who are you?”
Obviously, it wasn’t a question he was expecting. The princely man gives a dignified scoff, the corners of his lips twisting into a terrifying sneer.
“Oh, so now you're playing the short term memory loss card? Stop begging for attention, Cerena, and own up to your mistakes.” He moves aside and the maid cowering behind him lifts her teary eyes to him, her pitiful state clearly tugging on his heart strings and his protective instincts. “Miri told me you slapped her when she wouldn’t braid your hair fast enough, and you even threw your tea at her. Pray tell, is that a way how a princess acts, Your Highness?”
His words drip with venomous sarcasm. You open your mouth and then close it, unsure of how to respond to him—what you could even say in these circumstances.
But inside of you, welling deeply and painfully, is a surge of anger at being falsely accused for something you did not do. You have no idea who he is, who Miri was to him and who even is this woman called ‘Cerena’ he keeps on referring to you as.
What you do know is that he has slighted you with his openly hostile tone and body language, and if years of being a florist in a cutthroat business has taught you, it’s that you should always stand your ground against unruly customers to safeguard your reputation and dignity.
“I have no idea what you are speaking of,” your words come out frostier than you intended. Your sharp gaze sweeps to the other maids observing the spectacle with stony faces. “I wish to go back to my room.”
Turning on your heel, you take one step forward and realize just how heavy your gown is. Lace and organza with dangling pendants woven through the thick fabric, you move as if walking in a vat of molasses, slow and controlled, when all you want to do is storm off.
“Hey. I am not done speaking to you—”
It’s easy for him to catch up and grab your arm, impeding you from making your swift exit.
“Is this how you are to treat your subjects when we become wedded, Cerena? I would think that the princess of Kraith herself would have better manners and not behave like a barbarian!”
His words snap something tight in your chest, and your nostrils flare. You break free from his grasp and spin around, fists clenched to your sides.
“Do not touch me,” your deathly warning stills the entire room. “Do not speak to me like this and if you wish to protect her reputation—”
Your eyes fall on the maid still cowering on the floor, her eyes turned to the ground, but a shadow of a smirk on her face belies her true intentions.
She was attempting to frame me… or, Cerena. She is trying to get us in trouble with this powerful, spiteful man.
“—next time, choose someone else who doesn’t make it obvious that this is all a ploy to smear my name.”
mtt fun fact: maids are divided into different tiers according to the nobles they serve. miri is at the bottom tier, and her scope of work mainly focuses on cleaning the hallways and stables
dawn says: it's bit of a shorter chapter, but trust, the drama is gonna hit you like thief-kun when he smashed our heads in yayy <33
!! reblogs and feedback and asks about this series are so beloved and appreciated and will motivate me to update and write faster <3
©️ all rights reserve to lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost or claim as your own.
war paint | masterlist
pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader
status: complete
length: 27,765 words
summary: Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (spin off of in cinders)
tags: mulan AU, secret identity, romance, reader-insert
warnings: aged up characters, some violence, eventual smut
chapter links:
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
nine
ten
deleted scenes: (requests for short drabbles related to the fic)
What was chapter 5 like from Bakugou’s point of view?
What is domestic life like for them after the fic?
Did they get married? What did Bakugou’s family think?
cross posted on ao3: here
𝐅𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒
— you’re an up and coming pro hero; fresh faced, roaring through your twenties with your highly successful U.A years far behind you. but when one little drunk slip up has you falling through the hero ranks, will a single pretty bird of prey help you soar back up? or will you end up falling for him?
⇝ pairing: keigo takami x fem!reader
⇝ status: COMPLETE.
⇝ updates: every monday, friday && sunday !
⇝ genre: social media!au, pro hero!au, fake dating!au, crack, fluff, angst, smut.
⇝ warning(s): swearing ( mostly bakugou ), suggestive, rated 17+, slight!age gap, eventual smut hoho, everyone is aged-up into their twenties since they’re pros now, todoroki siblings being a mess, um crazy exes and stupid boys?
⇝ author’s note(s): this isn’t my first smau but it is my first one for my hero and on this blog ! i hope y’all keigo simps enjoy bc i had so much fun writing this and hope to write more smaus in the future <3
TAGLIST ✈️ CLOSED
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