#manipulating relationships
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quarterlifekitty · 6 months ago
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How they’re getting you back
Aka what they’re like as exes that just can’t get over you.
cw: unhealthy relationships, manipulative behavior
Gaz is the guy your parents just won’t stop bringing up. Why’d you break up with him? He’s so kind, and so handsome, and he’s got a steady job— so what if he was a little jealous? He keeps hanging out with your family even after you break up. Like pull up to thanksgiving and he’s there because your mom invited him! And he’s betting you’ll give into the pressure soon and just take him back. They want grandkids, babe, why keep them waiting?
Soap loved forcing himself into your personal space when you were together, and that hasn’t stopped. He knows all of your usual haunts, and he’s using that knowledge to stay close. Your favorite coffee shop, your favorite pub, where you like to stop on your lunch break. It’s just such a big coincidence that you keep running into each other! Great minds, right, bonnie? Oh, he forgot you asked him to stop calling you that. How can he help it? You’re still just as pretty as you were when you were together. And weren’t those good times, hen? Why’d they have to end?
Ghost is leaving you scary fucking voicemails. Telling you that you’re never really gonna be rid of him, so you may as well just take him back, yeah? And yeah, you can hear the slick sound of him jerking his cock in the background, what about it? You know you’ll never get it as good as he gave it to you, birdie. Just answer the door next time he comes knocking, and he’ll remind you of how good you were together. And if you won’t be mature about this, he has his ways of getting in.
Price is this looming presence that you can’t shake. Flowers at your door, unsigned, but you know. Bills paid before you get the chance to pay them yourself. He was the perfect man when you broke it off— you said no contact, he complied. You moved out, he helped you box it all up and drove you to your new place without any complaints. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. The truth was, he was calm when you told him it was over because he knew he just needed to put in the work, and things would be better than they were before.
König is perhaps handling it the worst. Like, this man is buying love spells off of Etsy witches to bring you back together. The gifts he sends are extravagant and pathetic. It might be a little more sweet and sad if he wasn’t huge and capable of killing you with his bare hands. It gets to the point where your friends feel badly— maybe you should just give him another chance?
Nikolai is, more than anyone else, completely sabotaging your efforts at finding someone new. Threatening any potential dates, bribing some, making others disappear. All with a knowing smile as he sits at a table on the other side of the restaurant, enjoying the nasty look you send his way when you’re stood up again. He wouldn’t keep doing this if you’d just go after a man who deserved you. A man who wasn’t so pathetically easy to drive off. But there’s only one man so crazy about you that nothing would get in his way when it comes to seeing you again, isn’t there? This could be easy if you’d come back. But he’s happy to keep playing games for as long as you like, malĂœshka.
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cyberiapinksosa333 · 2 years ago
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“wtf is wrong with you”
you mean like today or like in general?
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biirdex · 2 months ago
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Splashtail & Frostpaw đŸŒŠâ„ïž
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whitexswan · 5 months ago
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eelclaw · 4 months ago
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lionblaze, shadowsight, and the prisoners they released
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specialgradefckr · 7 months ago
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Beat Your Heart to Death
tw: explicit content, extremely toxic dynamics. gojo/geto, gojo/reader, geto/reader, and yes, stsg/reader. female!reader. mutual pining, requited unrequited feelings, the yearning, good god, the YEARNING. relatively unwilling voyeurism. EXTREMELY manipulative dynamics – boundary pushing, gaslighting, etc.
satoru and suguru are completely fucking deranged. their brains are operating on a level where human consciousness and emotion just hits different. they say INSANE shit at the end of this fic. you have been warned.
Sequel: Heartline Gone Flat
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This must be what dying feels like.
You watch them, together. Leaning against one another, sleeping, vulnerable. Curled up in each other's embrace.
This must be what dying feels like. Seeing the man you love and the man you lust for, so painfully, peacefully, blissfully in love with each other.
If this is dying, you're surely going to hell for thinking something so awful about a feeling so beautiful.
It’s the sort of thing you think to yourself, bury deep – deep – inside the recesses of your mind. Dredging it out in the late hours of the night when you can’t sleep. Wallowing in your unrequited love, feeling sorry for yourself, while also comforting yourself with the thought that at least now you didn’t have to do anything.
You would never have to approach your longtime crush, Suguru Geto, and potentially ruin your friendship with him. It was something you’d struggled with for years, and after Gojo showed up – you didn’t have to struggle anymore. It was already lost.
And the insane twists your fantasies would play out for you, in those lonely nights in bed – you could be free of those, too. You could completely dismiss the insane idea of propositioning the man-whore menace of a human being who made your heart race, Satoru Gojo.
Satoru and Suguru loved each other, and it would be wrong to get in the way of that. At this point, even saying anything to either of them would be a trespass on your friendship, with both of them.
That was all there was to it. Nothing more to be done. You were mourning your feelings. Strangling your dreamy sighs at Suguru’s kind gestures, stomping the flutter in your chest when you caught Satoru smiling. Killing your heart and leaving it to rot, stepping around it like it’s not there.  
Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape the fact that all three of you lived together.
It doesn’t help that Satoru is just as prone to PDA with Suguru as he was with all his numerous hookups. More, even, because he doesn’t keep it to just his bedroom, doesn’t make the token efforts to stay quiet at night and shoo them out in the morning.
You do your best. Look away. Try to ignore how your heart jumps, twists, does all sorts of funny things at the sight of them kissing.
Satoru’s pretty white lashes flutter closed, Suguru’s warm gaze softens, cheeks flushed as Satoru’s hands jump up to cling to him. He cups Satoru’s face like it’s a treasure, tilting his head and leaning into the kiss like he can’t get enough of it –
You’re staring, fuck. You’re looking too closely. The scene burns itself into your eyes and you want to rip them out, never see it again. But you struggle to avert your gaze, greedy mind committing every detail to memory with a racing heart, dry mouth.
Thirsty, you’re so thirsty, in every sense of the word. They lean into each other, so in sync and so affectionate in a way that tugs on your every heart string. Fuck!
You start to just leave the room when it happens. You’d rather die than get caught staring, you’d rather go without water than thirst for droplets.
And you’d really, really, rather cut your fucking eyes out than face the feelings the sight awakens in you. Longing, yearning, how you want to tear them both off each other at once, how you want to see more, more, more, you want to touch, you want to taste –
God, fuck. You’re like one of those shitty girls who fetishizes male relationships. Aren’t you? You feel like this might be that. But you’re attracted to both of them individually, so it can’t be that, right? You’re not a creep, you’re just greedy. You leave the room when they kiss! You’re respecting their privacy!
They notice, though, is the thing. Not your staring (god you fucking hope they’ve never noticed the staring) but how you leave the room when they get affectionate with each other. It’s Suguru who pulls you aside to ask.
“
and listen, I know you’re not like that, I totally know, so does Satoru. It just
 makes him feel a little weird, you know? He was raised by a traditional family, so they either think this is a phase, or call him disgusting to his face.”
Fuck your life. Actually fuck your ENTIRE life. “Of course not – I never – ”
“No no no, I know, I told you, he does too, it’s just – it’s a little disconcerting for him. But I can talk to him, make him understand. This is your house, too, you have the right not to see that sort of stuff.”
That just makes you feel a bit worse, actually. Satoru and Suguru shouldn’t have to hide away in their room whenever they want to kiss. It’s their own home.
“I’m sorry, Suguru, I – I don’t have any problem with you guys doing it around the house. I just
” You shift uncomfortably. “I’m not super comfortable with
 PDA sort of stuff. It has nothing to do with you both being guys.”
Suguru nods, “No, I understand completely. Satoru will be disappointed, but you’re setting boundaries, and I respect that – ”
“It’s not that,” You say, “I – you can do whatever you like, really, I’ll just leave – ”
“No,” Suguru interrupts with a sigh, “That’s what’s bothering him. I think deep down he’s a little worried that you find it
 disturbing.”
Your chest tightens with anxiety as you rush to reassure him, “Of course I don’t!”  
“No, I know, I know, we both do,” Suguru says in that warm, comforting voice of his, “It’s just how he feels – you know he can’t control that.”
And then your stupid mouth rushes ahead of you. Writes a check your heart can’t afford to cash.
“It’s fine! You don’t have to stop, I. Just
 tell him I felt like I was intruding. I didn’t think he saw it as me being disgusted.”
And your heart will pay willingly, because Suguru gives you that smile. Warm and affectionate. The smile you’d fallen in love with.
“You’re not intruding at all. I’ll tell him you said so, it’ll be a great weight off his mind.”
So now the love of your life makes out with his boyfriend and you can’t even leave the room. Hahah. God. Maybe you should start thinking of a way to move out?
Problem: When Satoru moved in, he’d basically started paying all the bills. He didn’t have to worry about being cut off from the family money – even at his young age, he had his own financial success. Even if it started out with a few trust funds and an appointed position at one of his parent’s companies.
Every rent listing looked expensive when your current rate was “free”. And fuck, rent was expensive. You’d have to deal with other roommates, people you didn’t know (and love) as long as Suguru (and Satoru, at this point, you’d known him for years), and you’d be paying for the privilege.
You try, oh, do you ever try to get over it. Sexuality is fluid, after all, so it’s perfectly possible that Satoru and Suguru just ended up being gay. Being with either of them may never have been an option, except maybe as one of Satoru’s flings.
And wouldn’t that just suck? To have one night with Satoru only to watch him realize he’s gay and mutually in love with your longtime crush? Better to never sleep with him at all. You can’t miss something you’ve never had. And you wouldn’t want to be a fling anyways.
The thought stings more than it should, because deep down –
(You’d take it. You know you’d take it. That’s why you’re still here, really, under all the excuses. You’re fucking pathetic, pining for both of them. You’d take anything you could get.)
It doesn’t help that they get freer with their affections after your talk with Suguru. Looser. So unrestrained. You walk in on them fucking in the living room, having come back early from class, face burning up as you stand there stock still for a moment.
They don’t stop, or freak out, or cover themselves or anything. You see Suguru’s naked chest above the couch, Satoru’s hands pinned over the armrest of it, their bare legs and feet entwined and sticking over the other side of the couch. They’re both so fucking tall.
So beautiful. Satoru moans so pretty, and you hear Suguru purr, low and filthy, “Like that, you little whore?” and you feel yourself clenching all the way to your core.
You make a wild dash across the living room, staying on the other side of the couch so they can’t see you. Closing the door to your bedroom as quickly and quietly as you can, panting to yourself, feeling the heat rising on your face and the warm pulse between your legs.
(Pathetic, fucking pathetic. It’s like you’re actually some horny teenage boy with a crush on a pretty girl out of his league, rubbing one out every time you see her with her equally hot girlfriend.)
You’ve got to get ahold of yourself.
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Your routine has changed, with the both of them being together, so openly. There were little things you’d shared, now gone, lost to the unfathomable whirlpool that was their relationship.
Used to be you’d buy sweets on grocery trips to share with Satoru. It was an old habit of yours, and when he’d first moved in, he’d caught you with them. Reaching for some with a grin before you smacked him away.
The look he gave you, a slow smirk before he went all wide-eyed and pleading, staggering to his knees like a proper starving drama queen – god, he had to know how he’d made your heart flutter. He probably pulled that on so many people.
Still, he would eat the candies right out of your hand, lips just teasing on your fingertips, eyes lingering on you while he licked his lips. It made you feel weird, at first, but you eventually realized that Satoru was just a weird guy.
He’d yawn and stretch and if he caught you or Suguru watching he’d flash his whole chest, like a girl flashing her tits. He slept naked and left the bathroom door open when he was using it, and he’d often knock when on your bathroom when you were in there, even if he had his own.
He had about ten different game consoles and games for them, plus a huge collection of movies, which he likes to watch with the room completely dark. He sleeps with a nightlight on, and his social media picture is an ugly picture of him from high school with these weird round sunglasses.
Not at all what you expected from a pretty boy like him. But Satoru’s eccentric charm, and the unstoppable allure of his perfect face and body, it rewired your brain somehow. You feel like you’ve wanted him for as long as you’ve known him.
You try to find other people. But the problem with living with Satoru and Suguru is that no one is up to your standards. You’ll never meet anyone as handsome or beautiful as either of them, so why bother?
In your defense, Suguru is hard to fall out of love with.
It’s not uncommon to wake up to the sound of your favorite breakfast being cooked while Suguru hums away in the kitchen, his pretty hair all tied back. If you sneak in quietly enough you can catch a tender smile on his face, the smell of freshly ground and brewed coffee he makes for Satoru in some expensive machine.
If you are unlucky, he’ll catch you, and that smile will grow as soon as his eyes are on you and you’ll fall in love all over again. If you’re lucky, you can sneak back away, but Suguru will eventually come and wake you up with a knock so gentle you suspect he already knows you’re up.
He shares his hair care routine, and it leaves your hair shiny and lovely. But your hair isn’t exactly like his, so he must have adjusted it.
He offers to help you brush or style it, himself, and asks you if you wouldn’t mind repaying the favor. Like you wouldn’t kill or die for the honor of running your hands through his silken locks.
Suguru is the type of guy who remembers when you get your period and asks if you need anything for it. You magically find your favorite fruits in the fridge, cut up, dipped in chocolate or caramel or yoghurt, however you like them best.
He does your laundry without being asked because he says it’s easier, and cleans dishes before you can get to them.
Every birthday he throws you a party, bakes a cake and he’ll spend hours to perfect a meal from scratch to go along with it. He’s perfect at finding a thoughtful present – Satoru just gives you cash, or some expensive luxury purchase you find fashionable but would never buy for yourself (Suguru definitely went shopping with him).
You get why Satoru likes him. Satoru’s sort of a slob, always leaving clothes on the floor – walking around shirtless like he knows exactly what it does to anyone watching “Just providing a public service, babe~” – and Suguru is so perfectly domestic.
Almost motherly. Whenever you misplace something, the fastest way to find it is invariably to ask Suguru, if he doesn’t approach you first with a concerned smile after watching you look.
After enough times catching Suguru sternly chide him for not putting away his clothes, leaving wrappers on the table, forgetting to put his shoes away; you’re relatively sure Satoru’s called him mom or mommy at some point. Possibly during sex.
And god, you get it. Those gentle tones of “Is everything all right?”, and “I tweaked the recipe, how do you like it?” and “I’m just really happy you enjoyed it.”, it’s enough to make your heart ache.
How, exactly, are you supposed to fall out of love with Suguru Geto?
How are you supposed to leave, how are you supposed to want to, especially when you swear you hear him call himself Daddy, and you find your face getting hotter than it should be.
Whispering to Satoru how “I’ve got you, baby,” and “Let Daddy take care of you, mhhm?”
And god, the high-pitched whimpers Satoru makes in response. He’s a tall guy, mewling, melting beneath Suguru’s hands, his words, his cock – and you could so easily imagine yourself in his place –
How are you supposed to be platonic about this?
 How are you supposed to stop touching yourself when they’re practically putting on personalized porn shows for you?
It's after the third time that you start to think they're doing this on purpose.
Whatever’s between them is something you just couldn’t understand. You get that, you do.
The way they look into each other’s eyes – there’s no way Suguru has ever looked at you like that, no way Satoru would ever want you that badly.
It’s something magnetic that makes them slot together at all times, draws their gazes to one another, leaves no room for anyone else –
But you stumble on them
 a lot.
Never mind making out on the couch. You turn into the laundry room to see Satoru backed against the washer machine, his cock so far Suguru’s throat you can see it bulge.
His face is flushed, eyes teary, one hand loosely in Suguru’s hair while he whimpers. Dark eyes gazing up at him, fierce, Adam’s apple bobbing and another noise escaping him.
Or Satoru’s sitting rather innocently in Suguru’s lap, at a certain angle, but the sounds he’s making are less than innocent. Vile, even. Suguru’s broad hand wrapped around Satoru’s cock, pumping up and down, Satoru’s body shifting as you can tell he’s grinding down against something below.
And sometimes it’s really just the noises. You’ve heard them so often now it feels like you can put expressions to every moan and grunt and whimper and whine. Satoru makes a certain sort of gasp and your imagination jumps to think of how deep Suguru must be inside him, how his pretty face must look, twisted in pleasure.
They come back sometimes, from parties, drunk together. Leaning on one another like they could never lean on you – you’re not tall, not built like either of them are. Cheeks flushed as they whisper words into one another’s ears, Satoru giggling, kissing his cheek, Suguru laughing and squeezing his waist as they stumble into their room.
Like they’re in their own little world that you could never intrude on. You just catch glimpses every now and then. They don’t even look at you, it’s like you’re not even there – their eyes are locked on one another.
But that isn’t the worst of it.
Satoru and Suguru start bringing other people in.
No - they start bringing other girls into it. Like it's a punishment for catching them, only, you're fairly certain they wanted to be caught.
Satoru’s never been shy when he had a girl over, about walking around shirtless – maybe it’s an exhibitionism thing. And you’re someone they know well, someone tolerant (pathetic) enough to not say anything.
Either that or they’re both just that good at pretending you aren’t there. But they talk to you, all the time. You eat meals together, have movie nights (if you ignore how Satoru will not-so-discreetly put his hand on the inside of Suguru’s thigh while you’re all sitting together), grocery shop together, smile and laugh and share things about your day.
It’s just that they’re also dating each other. And in love, so in love, it’s painfully obvious that there’s no room for anyone else between them. Which makes the girls they bring over turn your stomach even more.
Sure, they’re one night stands. But they don’t even try to keep it quiet. You hear unfamiliar, high-pitched moans and whimpers, a wet smacking sound that has to be Satoru overdramatically eating pussy.
You wonder what his face looks like. What his eyes look like. Is he staring up at her when she does it? Does she have a hand in the feather-down softness of his hair? Or maybe Suguru’s hand, shoving him forward, that sly smirk that creeps over his lips when you’ve seen his eyes grow dark with want.
Is she whimpering because she’s close? Do they tease her, edging her, enjoying the expressions on her face, the way her body trembles? When she begs, is it for them to stop, or keep going? Whose dick is it inside her? Satoru’s, Suguru’s? What does it feel like? Satoru’s stupid enough to do it without a condom but Suguru isn’t.
What are they doing when she cums? You hear Suguru groan (you know how his groans sound, you know how both of them sound), so he must be cumming too. What’s Satoru doing? He’s too needy to be left alone for long.
Is he watching while he jerks himself? Has Suguru forced him to sit back? Or maybe he’s down where the action is, right where Suguru’s cock is buried inside her, laving over her clit and his cock like the slut he is until they both cum all over his face.
Why can’t that be you? Why don’t they want you?
Your fists clench harder than they should.
One night you stumble onto them in the middle of the living room, all at it in plain view.
Satoru is in Suguru’s lap, tall enough to tower over him. Suguru’s hand wrapped around his throat, choking him, head tilted back in bliss as his lashes flutter. There’s a woman on her knees, between their spread legs, sucking Satoru off.
And you can tell, by the way Satoru shudders, how he’s loose like putty in Suguru’s arms, that Suguru’s dick is buried deep inside him.
Satoru and Suguru don’t even try to pretend it was an accident. Some fucking roommates they are.
Suguru will smile and blush when you ask him about it, apologizing in soothing, kind tones, offering to never bring another girl home again if it bothered you – you’ve been through the goddamn song and dance so many times already.
He has this way of just. Making you feel guilty for even asking in the first place. Like you were presumptuous to say anything at all, unless it was something he wanted to hear.
It’s turned you into this. So eager to please but desperate to keep them at arm’s length. Wanting, longing, and starving for it. Watching because you quite literally can’t do anything else, sights burned into your eyes. Unable to look away. Unable to keep watching.
You don't know what they want from you.
You don’t think you want to, anymore.
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Satoru and Suguru are getting impatient.
No, Suguru is getting impatient. Satoru is getting desperate. It was his idea to start going out and finding girls to bring back and fuck.
It wasn’t particularly difficult between the two of them. And promising, at first – after all, what was more likely to get you to snap than watching – hearing – the two of them give some other girl everything you’ve ever wanted on a silver platter?
But you just keep going. Gritting your teeth and bearing with it. Suguru spent a whole week dislodging your vibrator slightly from its charging port, slowly squeezing your lube bottle empty, doing everything he could to drive you to the brink.
Satoru’s starting to remark how much it’s a waste of time. He gets snippy when he’s needy, and lately, Suguru’s cock just isn’t enough for him. He has to go through your laundry, plant a camera in your bedroom on one of those few nights they stay out late enough to give you some private time.
Satoru makes him wear your clothes when Suguru fucks him, lets Suguru gag him with your panties when it’s the other way around.
They play dress-up together and watch you touch yourself at awkward angles with muddied sound quality. It’s not enough, not nearly enough.
Privately, Suguru is a little worried. Satoru’s getting weird – not that he hasn’t always been. But weirder.
He goes right into the bathroom after every time you use it. He’s always quick to reach your drinks for a “taste test” after you’ve had a sip. And Suguru knows for a fact Satoru isn’t using his own toothbrush at night.
He keeps talking about you. Looking at you. Whispering dirty suggestions in his ears, asking impatiently if you look like you’re going to snap.
Satoru is needy like that, demanding, and you’d always balanced him out while helping Suguru relax.
But there’s a distance now that wasn’t there before. The tension builds and builds, needs unmet for so long that desperation is clawing at both of them.
And that’s to say nothing of his own desires. Satoru, for all his faults, still has self-control.
Suguru passes your door every night and stops for a moment. He serves you dinner with a smile, domestic as he is, and thinks how easy it would be to slip something in there. To make sure you’d sleep through the night.
Would it even matter if you didn’t? You let him get away with so much. You love him, you must love him, don’t you? There’s no other reason you would put up with all of this. If he did slip, you’d forgive him, wouldn’t you? You’d drink up all his honeyed words with the same smile you always gave him.
But if he gave you such a convenient excuse, then he would always doubt. Whether you really loved him or if he just made it convenient to love him.
More importantly, you’re looking at them different. It was good, at first; your pretty eyes darting in a different direction, the way you try to hide your face, keep your words especially cool.
 They want you to TAKE what you want. Want you yelling and screaming and scratching them up like the hellcat they know you are, deep down.
“How long,” He whines between groans as Geto works between his legs, fingering him as he sucks his cock, “Is she gonna make us wait – fuck!”
Suguru pulls away with a pop. Saliva and precum dripping from his lips. Satoru pulls him in for a kiss, by the hair.
“You know she’s liked me a while,” Suguru murmurs, swallowing a moan or two as he works another finger into his hole. “She’s scared of pushing me away. And now that you’re my boyfriend, she probably wouldn’t want to break us up.”
“Fuck, but imagine if she did.” Satoru bucks into him, “She wants us, I know she does.”
He’s always so needy, like a puppy. Suguru likes it, but he can admit that he wants you, too. Misses the energy you’d provide. You’re not demanding like Satoru is. Too prideful. Satoru’s shameless. But you want, oh, do you ever want, and they both do know it.
Once he’s stretched Satoru out enough, he wastes no time shoving him onto his belly, burying himself in his hole from behind – “Fuck! Suguru!”
“On it right now,” He purrs, close to Satoru’s back, reaching lazily for his cock.
Satoru doesn’t like to cum too soon anyways. He likes to cum from getting fucked, to be edged into oblivion – or he likes going hard and fast and overstimulated to no end. Not much in between, unless he was the one in charge.
“Imagine it,” He pants like a dog beneath him. He’s pretty, so pretty, and the only thing Suguru could imagine that would be better is to see your face looking up at him from underneath Satoru, “Suguru!”
He grunts, thrusting his hips harder, “Imagining. What am I imagining?” God, Satoru’s a slut and a nuisance, but it’s always been worth it to indulge him.
“Her,” Satoru breathes after a particularly hard thrust, “Trying to break us up.”
Suguru grabs his hips for better leverage. Satoru dirty talks best when he’s getting fucked hard, after all.
“Fuck, imagine if she got me drunk or something, hngh, finally followed through on those fuck-me eyes she’s always giving me, ghhgh, fuck yes like that, and. Just fucked me in our room, waiting for you to walk in on us together.”
And he can see it, picture it so well.
A drunk night with the most beautiful man alive, because that’s what Satoru is; pretty even now, beneath him, all sweat and lean body trembling as he gets utterly railed.
You’ve always had the attraction, and Satoru couldn’t handle his liquor, and all the sudden, you’d slept together.
“Would you – ah, ahHhh, would you get mad, Suguru?” His voice is teasing now, even through the groans and utterances, “Would you cry~?”
“Ha!” He half-chokes out the laugh, because Satoru clenches around him and it’s hard not to cum right away. He’s going to leave bruises from how hard he’s holding those narrow, lovely hips.
“No," Suguru grinds out, "But I’m sure you both would. She’s the type, and you’re so fucking – gah, so fucking needy. What would you want me to do? Forgive you?”
His pace slows down, and he reaches to squeeze his cock in return, just for a taste.
“Nah – fuck! Yes, keep doing that, fuck.” Satoru bucks into his touch, always, always chasing after him, “She’s too fucking nice all the time. If she did it, it would be – hnng – like. A revenge thing. She should be fucking mad already, pissed off. She should make me cum inside her, say she’s pregnant. Make me dump you and marry her, so if she can’t have you, nobody can.”
Suguru barks out a laugh at the concept, and then a moan, choked off as he feels the heat shooting through him at the idea.
You’re too nice, like Satoru says, it’s a laughable concept, you acting like this –
But what had he seen in your eyes that day after you caught them both with that girl?
“Fuck, I swear I feel you twitching inside me – ”
“What would you do, then?” Suguru purrs hotly into his ear, “You want to win her heart while you’re married?”
“Well, we’d fuck all the time,” Satoru wheezes out a giggle, trembling as Suguru’s hand slides along his cock, “Fuck you – haaaahhh. But I’d be making nice with her, being a good husband, and then you could come and have an affair – ”
Fuck, fuck, that’s too much, “Close,” He grunts, driving himself deep and hard, chasing the edge, “Fuck, I could tell her I love her, blackmail her, even – threaten to tell you.”
A groan as Satoru gets closer, and Suguru continues, “I could fuck her, leave her coming home to you full of my cum – ”
“I’d eat it out of her,” Satoru laughs, near deranged as he jerks between fucking back into Suguru and rutting into his hand, “Jerk me off already – ah, fuck, what if you got her pregnant – ”
White-hot, like the idea of your face beneath him, both of them, accepting them with an open heart full of rage and bitterness and lust, Suguru cums.
He’s just aware enough to fist Satoru’s cock, sliding harshly along it until he hears the lovely whore beneath him gasping, twitching, spilling in his hand.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” Satoru whimpers. “Hnghh
 god, just the idea of her coming home from the hospital with a black-haired baby.”
“Fuck you,” Suguru barks, because now he wants to cum inside you. He wants, so, so fucking bad to cum inside you.
But god, do you even want them?
You sit there, all day, looking away, running away. That’s not love, is it?
And he’s a romantic, at heart. Satoru is, too. They don’t want anything less than your whole heart. Your entire life, your mind, body, and soul, dedicated to them the way they are to each other. Mad with jealousy and rage and possession.
Satoru had left him with bruises, the day he found out Suguru was crushing on you. When Suguru told him, in no uncertain terms, that he’s been wanted you for over a decade now and he wasn’t leaving before he got you. Blue fury in his eyes, heart twisting in his chest.
He’d looked him in the eye, grin wild and wide. Staring down as he has him pinned. Suguru had raised his knee up between his legs to find his cock desperately hard and throbbing.
“I want to fuck her first,” had been his wicked demand. Pain and pleasure traded like currency in return for love, each of them furious at the other for wanting you. They reaped the cost of their love on each other, settled their scores deep in their souls.
Because even if Suguru had seen you first, could he really say he’d wanted you first? Did he really want to fuck you before Satoru moved in, before he saw you flustered from your attraction and playfully trading banter with Satoru?
Had he wanted Satoru because you wanted Satoru? Had Satoru wanted him because he could see that you did?
Lines cross and uncross between you and the two of them, too tangled to ever unravel.
Time to tighten the knot.
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patthetic-boy · 5 months ago
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goddesslana888 · 9 months ago
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Trained this lucky new pup in a nightclub, then took him to another bar to be my little drink b*tch.
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sadvenicebitch · 1 year ago
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Need
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noirscript · 3 months ago
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curtain call
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Pairing: Yandere!Actor x Reader Description: The television flickers with Caelum Ashford's triumph, but even in his absence, his shadow looms, a dangerous obsession seared into your every breath. Warning/s: YANDERE | IMPLIED NONCON | possessive behavior | obsessive behavior | emotional manipulation | power dynamics | psychological abuse | implied violence | toxic relationship Note/s: Apologies for not posting yesterday. Anyway, here's something for today. Might post something later or I might work on Callixto's story the rest of the day, Oh, also, Dark Roast is currently on sale for those of you interested. We're also about to hit 900 followers. Yay! Anyway, let me know what you think about this one!
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Masterlist | Dark Roast 50% OFF | Commission | Tip Jar
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The television glows like a portal in the otherwise shadow-soaked room. The air is still, heavy with the scent of rosewood and Caelum—his cologne clings to your skin like fingerprints, still damp with sweat, bruised in all the places he left his mark. Your robe slips over your shoulder with each shallow breath, but you’re too sore to adjust it. The ache in your body is a ghost of how he claimed you before leaving, whispering that you belonged to no one but him.
The TV is the only light in the room. He left it on intentionally.
“Even when I’m not here, you’ll watch me. You’ll remember who you belong to.”
His voice is still in your ear, etched into your spine.
The crowd on the screen roars, dressed in designer gowns and thousand-watt smiles. Glitter rains from the ceiling of the grand theater. The host opens the envelope with ceremonial flourish.
“And the award for Best Actor in a Drama Series goes to
 Caelum Ashford!”
You flinch.
Applause. Standing Ovation. Camera Flashes.
You grip the arm of the velvet couch tighter, the pressure grounding you. You’d known he’d win. Of course he would. The world is in love with him. They believe his portrayal of Lord Severus—the dangerously obsessive noble who would kill, steal, burn the kingdom down just to keep his wife—was the role of a lifetime.
But you know the truth.
He wasn’t acting.
The screen cuts to him rising from his seat. Hair immaculately styled. Sharp black suit hugging his tall frame. He walks with that haunting grace only Caelum possesses—like he owns the air around him. When he smiles, women in the audience swoon. Men clap harder. Critics nod, impressed.
But you—you freeze.
Because you know that smile is the same one, he gave you last night, when he held your wrists down against silk sheets and murmured, “Even if the world saw you naked in my bed, they wouldn’t know you like I do. Not like this.”
He takes the mic at the podium. Lifts the trophy. Looks straight into the camera.
“Thank you,” Caelum begins, voice velvet-smooth. “Portraying Lord Severus was
 easy. Too easy, some might say.”
The crowd chuckles, charmed.
“When love consumes you
 when it becomes your religion, your obsession, your purpose—it doesn’t feel like acting.”
A pause. Just long enough for you to notice the shift in his expression.
“You live it.”
There it is. That subtle smirk. One only you recognize. A private performance.
“I dedicate this award
” he continues, his voice softening. “
to the one who anchors me. My muse. My wife in heart, if not in law.”
Your stomach twists.
Your name is never spoken. It never is. Not even your shadow is allowed to touch the world outside these walls. But the message is for you. Always for you.
The camera zooms out. Applause. Cheers. Ovation.
And then—
Chime.
You go still.
It’s not a knock. Not a doorbell. It’s the discreet code-triggered chime that signals the villa gate has opened. A sound only those who live in this exclusive riverside estate would ever hear.
You scramble to your feet, heart hammering. You’re trembling before you even make it halfway across the room. The ache in your legs pulse like a warning. Your body knows before your mind accepts it—
He’s home.
Keys.
Click.
The door swings open.
Caelum Ashford steps into the villa, the golden trophy gleaming in one hand, a bottle of expensive wine in the other. His jacket drapes over his arm, hair tousled just slightly from the breeze outside. But his eyes—his eyes are on you the moment he crosses the threshold.
Predatory. Possessive. Burning with hunger.
“You watched, didn’t you?” His voice is low, silk around a blade.
He sets the bottle down, places the award beside the others on the black marble shelf. Unhurried. Precise. He undoes the top two buttons of his shirt, sleeves already rolled up.
He doesn’t wait for your answer.
“Don’t make me ask twice, sweetheart.” His smile is all teeth now. “Did you see what the world gave me tonight?”
You nod.
“Good,” he whispers, stepping closer, his voice darkening. “Because now it’s your turn to give me what I really want.”
TBC.
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noirscript © 2025
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Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @fandangoballs @mel-vaz @vind1cta @greatwitchsongsinger
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kissesandarsenic · 4 months ago
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Something so deliciously hot about having a sub telling you they love you during a session. They just feel so good and the endorphins are raging and the words tumble out before they can stop themselves.
Yeah, Mommy loves you too, baby. Now be a good little pet and make yourself cum for me.
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wiihtigo · 1 year ago
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hes right behind me isnt he
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whitexswan · 5 months ago
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boysr4breaking · 6 months ago
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my type of carrying on
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patthetic-boy · 5 months ago
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superpersonablaze · 5 months ago
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