#》: older ey (our lovely asshole)

[homeless202]

Who saved whom?

☆ who are you? what are you doing on the floor?

》 nobody. doesn't matter. go away.

☆ are you the prince who came to save me?

》 ...what? no.

☆ oh... okay.

》 ..... do you need saving?

☆ no..... maybe. i don't know... i guess, a little bit.

》 ..... okay. c'mon.

☆ what? where are we going?

》 far away from here.

☆ and you're coming with me?

》 ..... yeah. i'll go with you.

☆ but dad will get mad if i stay out too late. when are we coming back?

》 never. trust me, i know you don't want to go back there. say goodbye and let's go.

☆ okay. bye-bye.👋

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[tteokdoroki]

IF IT’S ONLY A TOUCH…AITA? - satoru gojo.

✩ — about. “but one day, she just grew up…and i haven’t been able to look at her the same.” satoru gojo never meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister. he never meant to make her fall in love him. he never meant to fall in love with her. satoru doesn’t want anyone to know, suguru has no idea and she wants to tell the whole world…does that make him the asshole? … ( 46.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, angst with a bittersweet ending. college!au, age gaps ( reader is 22, satoru gojo is 27 ), forbidden romance, toxic relationships, situationships, co-dependency ( on suguru geto ), controlling older brother, panic attacks, violence, fight scenes, arguments, alcohol mentions, smoking weed, manipulation, gaslighting, three smut scenes, spit, praise, dumbification, fingering (f!receiving), hand jobs (m!receiving), pussy jobs, dry humping, hold the moan, light!choking, light!oral-fixation, public sex, bathroom sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f + m!receiving), overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, creampies, adopted geto!reader, fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. my entry for @ohkento ‘s reddit collab ! i’d like to thank everyone for their patience with this labour of love. it was first a silly idea that blossomed into something more complex and beautiful. i love this fic so much and i hope you do too!! special thanks to @todorosie for beta reading n all your encouragement!! and to @rinhaler for the sukuna reference hehe <3 - m.list ⋆ playlist ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

AITA (27M) FOR FUCKING MY BEST FRIEND'S (26M) LITTLE SISTER (22F)? hey reddit. i’ll get straight into it. i met my best friend, we’ll call him S, when we were kids, as young as five i guess, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. he was there for me at my lowest, and right by my side at my highest. i’ve never been the greatest person…but there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for me and vice versa. that’s why i feel so bad. he’s got this younger sister, i used to find her so annoying, but one day… she just grew up and i haven’t been able to look at her the same. we started fooling around two years ago around the time she’d settled into college but decided to keep it a secret from her brother. now she’s graduated from college and wants to take the next step… TLDR: we’ve been fucking around for two years but now she’s graduated and is ready to be more serious with our relationship. she wants to tell her brother — i’m unsure. AITA?

coming back home after four years of brutal education, late nights studying and heavy textbooks feels… almost comforting. 

sure, you’ve been home for the holidays before, and sometimes between semesters when things got a little bit rough. but this time around, being home feels more like a relief — an aura of permanency surrounding the occasion. at home, there’s home cooked meals instead of stale take-out and the house you’ve been raised in smells of warm spices rather than the unpleasant combination of old beer and dorm parties. 

there’s peace in being at home instead of college after four long years. it’s rewarding almost, to know that you’re welcomed back into the arms of the people who love you most after years of blood, sweat and tears. you’ve made it. you’re on the other side. you’ve got a degree under your belt and a bright, prosperous future ahead of you. 

letting out a determined huff, you throw your suitcases down onto the end of your bed — pushed up against the window of your childhood bedroom. the walls are a colour you no longer like (lime green… what were you thinking?) plastered with posters from groups you no longer listen to and movies you would only watch for comfort now that you’re a little bit older. nostalgia is warm under your skin as you look around at your teenage safe space, until your big doe eyes land on your sticker covered closet. 

being home for just the weekend, you thought you’d kill two birds with one stone. unpack the clothes you no longer need at your college dorm whilst joining your parents for a celebration. they had wanted you to come down from your university town in order to commemorate the end of your degree, since they’ll be abroad on business for your graduation ceremony in a few months time. not to mention, the outstanding job offer you’d received not long after being awarded  your final marks. 

your brother, suguru, would be joining you for the weekend as well. temporarily taking up space in his own childhood bedroom just across the hall — the keep out sign with black and yellow restricted tape still hanging from the white wooden door. geto had long since moved out of your parents place, what with him being five years older than you. he now had a job in the city as a big shot lawyer with hardly any time for his little sister anymore. so the fact that he was making the trip down just to celebrate you meant more than you could put into words.

he hadn’t arrived yet, however, and your parents were busy downstairs sorting out your favourite home cooked dinner (oxtail, a favourite) to care about what you were up to — leaving you to unpack in comfortable solitude. you decide to start with your night clothes, the darkness of the winter’s evening starting to bleed into the purple painted sky. you’ll be sleepy soon, no doubt. 

turning your back on the window, you move to set your toiletries and a fresh pair of pyjamas on the back of your desk chair — hardly noticing the way the window panes creak open, accompanied by the chill of a light december breeze. the gentle tread of footsteps across your carpeted floor go without attention as well, you’re too occupied with sorting through your things to pay attention to anything. not until it’s too late. 

“boo!”

large and possessive hands on your hips make you jump in fright, relaxing only when you hear the familiar teasing baritone against the shell of your ear. “did you miss me?” gojo purrs, using his hold on the flesh at your waist to spin you around to face him. your palms settle on the broad spread of his sturdy shoulders while his fingers dip into the back pocket of your low-waist jeans — leaving very little room between your bodies.

“satoru!” you exhale sincerely with the wisps of a smile spreading across your lips and twitching at the corner of your mouth. “what are you doing here? when did you get back?” like butter in a heated pan, you melt into the man’s arms, those same arms wrapping around your waist fully to pull you further into him. you feel dumb and lovestruck, tucked into the plushness of gojo’s chest as if you’d never left. 

“i couldn't miss my special girl’s special weekend, now could i?” the toothy smirk satoru gives you is enough to make your knees knock and you’re reminded that you’re lucky enough to be held up in his arms. happiness simmers hotly through your veins at the thought. a million and one girls would kill to be in your position, to have a man as handsome as the satoru gojo in their bedroom, all alone, sapphire blue eyes honed in on you and only you. 

he’s unlike any man you’ve ever met before. he’s so beautiful, not just anyone will do if it ever came to replacing him. he’s tall enough to tower over you, and make you feel small in a way that isn’t terrible at all. his hair is as white as winter frosts and unfairly soft for someone who probably doesn’t take as much care for it as he should. his lashes flutter against your forehead, long and to die for. satoru gojo is a beauty if you ever saw one — and you find yourself grateful to keep him all to yourself. in this moment. of course.

the look he gives you itself is enough to keep you alive, make your cheeks tingle with heat just under the skin, make you feel like a schoolgirl about to give a note to her crush. but a million and one girls don’t have to hide their crushes or keep them secret, their relationships probably aren’t as complex or confusing as your own with the man before you.

things with gojo have always been weird…ever since you were young. he found you annoying and whiny, back then, he along with your adoptive brother would pick on you until your eyes were big and shiny and your nose a little snotty. in those times, suguru (who babied you too much for your own good on occasion) often followed his best friend’s lead, maybe because satoru was older (despite them both being five years ahead of you in age) and the more dominating personality of the two best friends. it was easy to think that he might have even despised you then, or to imagine that suguru would grow up adoring you. yet, for satoru, it all changed one summer after your eighteenth birthday, when you just… shot up. you filled out, your demeanour changed, you became everything that he ever wanted. 

satoru was spoilt. he always had been, even from childhood. the gojo clan had built an empire and he was right at the heart of it as soon as he left college. the white haired man with the dazzling rows of perfect teeth had all the money and power in the world — right in the palm of his dangerous hands. obtaining what he wanted was as easy as snapping his fingers, and in an instant he could have all the booze and babes he desired. whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. the issue with being a man of satoru gojo’s calibre is the difficulty in drawing a line in the sand and knowing when to stop. men like him have everything, but only desire what they can’t have. 

he only desires you.

see, early on in his friendship with your brother, suguru had given satoru one plain and simple rule. one that he could never break so long as he walked god’s green earth and breathed fresh air into his lungs. 

suguru had made him promise never to go near you, sexually or romantically. 

they’d known one another their entire lives, been together through thick and thin, ups and downs. if anyone knew what the real satoru gojo was really like… it would be your brother. he had seen every arc of gojo like the phases of the moon up above. satoru was a partier, he drank until his veins were 50% alcohol and poured the bourbon until all of his organs were burned black. he smoked away his burdens, numbing his brain with whatever he could get his hands on. people, back in college, were just as disposable to gojo as his father’s income and even now, with his position at the heart of Gojo Corporations — satoru was no more stable than a drowning child, struggling to keep his head above the water and air in his scarred lungs. 

he was in no position to look out for you like suguru did. to the older geto, you were a prized possession and a treasure to be cherished. his innocent baby sister who was too sweet for the hard liquor gojo drank by the gallons and the papers that knew to tear him apart by name. you needed someone to rely on, someone to look out for you when the world gets tough and the rose tinted glass ceiling shatters down on you. suguru had tried his hardest to shield to growing up, becoming partly responsible for your dependence on him. 

he learned how to braid your hair and cook the foods you liked before moving to japan for your adoption. when he wasn’t being mean to you along with satoru, suguru cared for you deeply. he was a good adoptive brother.

so, it was a wonder how you even managed to get into and go to university all on your own — without your older brother’s watchful eye to keep you safe from the dangers of men, sex and money.

and gojo, being gojo, was never a stickler for the rules. he’d innocently reached out to you once you’d settled into college, under the guise of checking on his best friend’s little sister. much to his amusement, you’d already broken out of the safety net your brother had cast over you — you were more brazen and adventurous, sleeping around between study sessions and partying when you’d told your family you were tired from the week’s work. 

before anyone knew it, you’d become the college girl who liked to be wined and dined by older men — presenting the perfect opportunity for satoru to sweep you off your feet. 

texts to check on you every once in a while became calls to ask about your day and wish each other good morning and good night. these little things, as sweet as they might have seemed, snowballed into something bigger. something more. at least to you. you were falling in love with satoru gojo, and fast. it was the first time you’d ever felt like that towards someone, and he’d gotten you right where he wanted you. 

it wasn’t long before you were paying off your dorm mates to keep quiet about having an older man over, no less gojo. you were naive but not stupid, it wouldn’t take an idiot to know that geto had people keeping an eye on you nor that money was what made the world go round — people would do anything for a hefty price or designer bag. they kept their lips sealed each and every time gojo swung by your dorm to pin your knees to your ears and fuck you raw until your voice was hoarse and there was a dent in your wall from the force of his thrusts against the bed frame. 

satoru had been the one to take your virginity, of course. suguru would have had an aneurism if he ever found out.

and while you loved the thrill of sneaking around with someone older, someone who seemed to know the world better than you ever could, someone who excited you — there were times where you wished your heart hadn’t chosen the enigma that is satoru gojo. your relationship with him ruined the little time you had to explore yourself in college. he knew all of your friends, he knew all of the boys in your classes and the ones that dared to hang out with you outside of them. he sometimes paid them off to break your heart or cheat on you just so that you’d go running back into his arms — bleary eyed and emotionally drained.

satoru knew about your every move — the parties you went to and the socials you attended. you were never able to mess around with people, not with the tabs he had on you. silly little you, don’t you know? you’re satoru’s property. 

the worst thing he could have done to you is fail to put a label on your relationship. you were never his girlfriend and he would always dance around the question like he was avoiding a bullet to the chest. ‘what are we?’ you would ask, and like always, satoru would grin lazily and slowly — in the way that brews a hazy fog over your mind and respond with. ‘whatever you want me to be.’

what you wanted was something official. not to be satoru’s little pet, hidden away from the rest of the world while in private he promises you that you’re the only girl he’s ever loved. it hit hardest whenever you would go to visit him, noting another’s car in the driveway that wasn’t yours or satoru’s. you knew that you never meant much…but in actuality it was slowly killing you now. he gave you comfort, gave you warmth but whenever you woke, he was gone by the morning. that’s how it always was. 

a piece of you threatened to crumble each and every time your lover was plastered over the tabloids and gossip magazines with another heiress. you wanted to tell the world that you were his and he was yours. you wanted suguru to know too. 

oftentimes, satoru would ease your worries with a simple toe curling and mind numbing kiss to your butter-glossed lips, uttering the words ‘but, wouldn’t that ruin our little secret?’ 

the very secret made you feel dirty and used. 

if satoru didn’t let you, then you could never bring yourself to tell suguru. it would break his heart, his entire soul to know that his angelic little sister was taking her eyes off of the very expensive prize of her university degree. and so, the track of your fragmented relationship (situationship?) with your mischievous white haired lover replays over and over again like a broken record — scratched and scathed. 

satoru comes over, you fight or cry, and he ends up balls deep inside of you — creaming your little cunt in a hotel off campus or paying off your friends to spend your night in your dorm again. 

when you finally graduated, you remember one of said friends asking. ‘will you ever go public with that… guy you’re always fucking? i mean… he practically lives with you.’

at the time, you’d pressed your lips into a thin and telling line. you couldn’t. you wouldn’t. they’d laughed about it then and you knew what conclusions were running through their minds. what a dumb, naive little rich girl, for thinking she was anything more than a sidechick. 

if only you could just show them the lengths satoru would go to be with you in the secrecy of your own little bubble. 

like right now.

“sweetheart, where’d you go?” cocking his head down at you, satoru’s sugarcoated, sickly sweet coo runs through your ears like molten sugar and drags you from the depths of deep thought. he clicks his teeth, using a thumb and forefinger to tilt your head up in order to face him — positioning you like his own marionette doll. “came all this way to see you, only for you to get lost in that pretty little head of yours.”

it’s patronising, the way he speaks to you as if you’re a child — but it’s all you’ve ever known. being babied by your lover and even your brother. “s-sorry! i was just… thinking…” you supply as a meek excuse, shuddering when gojo slips a thumb over the slightly cracked skin of your bottom lip. the impending winter’s cold had been nipping at it in his place.

“about me?”

you scoff playfully, begrudgingly pulling yourself from satoru’s grip before he makes your brain too overcast to even focus about unpacking. “about graduation. i can’t believe it’s all over.” 

returning to unfolding some casual wear left in your bag, your mind begins to wander if satoru misses you as much as you miss him whenever you’re not touching. your skin feels alive, teaming with life, whenever he’s nearby — as if two magnets that couldn’t be more different have attracted one another instead of repelling. it’s like you need to be near him in order to breathe, to feel, to exist. 

your…boyfriend? makes himself comfortable on your bed, trailing his index finger over the pink patterned sheets.  you realise then, that you’ll never truly understand what’s going on in his head. 

“i am proud of you, yanno.” gojo comments casually. he man-spreads across the edge of your bed, leaning back against his elbows as if to draw your eyes to the treasure between his thick jean-clad thighs. “not every day my pretty baby graduates with honours. such a smart little girl, hm?” it’s cruel really, how dumb he makes you out to be — but in a way, it makes your insides twist and a flutter make its way up to your chest.

you shrug as if it’s nothing, hanging your clothes up in the closet before you return to the bedside. “it’s a wonder i managed, ‘toru. you were always distracting me,” memories of your illicit activities on nights before papers were due or exams were to be taken flash behind his vibrant azure eyes, and satoru grins mischievously as his strong arms snake around your waist — his head pressed against your smooth tummy. “i have to unpack.” you remind him gently.

but then he looks up at you, like a sweet pet that begs for food, dragging you into the shining blue pools of his eyes that you can never seem to escape. and before you know it, you’re drowning in gojo’s attention once again. 

“did you miss me?”

satoru let’s his fingers slide under your loose top and gives your hips a possessive squeeze, watching you with baited breath. 

“‘toru, you’ve asked me that already.” 

he squeezes again, harder, the rough pads of his fingers sinking into your mid-section, all needy like. he’s desperate to know that you haven’t found anyone else. “i missed you,” satoru quips in place of your silence. “i hate being away from you for so long, work sucks.”

as if he ever did any real work. satoru was just the pretty poster boy for his dad’s company — it worked out well though, you’d seen the amount of zeros in his bank account yourself. “i’ll be getting a job too, did you know that? at that big fashion editorial. you know the one, Heavenly Pact magazine. it’ll be in the city too so we can be closer together. it’s why suguru is taking us to dinner.” 

satoru finds your gushing adorable, pulling you to stand between his legs as you go on and on.

“and where d’ya think suguru got that idea from?”  he coos. “i had him set up a reservation at that place you like… yanno, the one where we spent our two years. something about the sushi there. you liked it.” 

satoru talks about the day as if you were really dating. two years. seven hundred and thirty days spent fawning over him and chasing the white haired male like a lost puppy. you couldn’t even call it an anniversary, not when you weren’t official. though, he’d taken the time to spoil you — he dressed you in diamonds and designer, picked you up in a fancy car that probably cost more than your rent, booked out the whole restaurant and filled it with your favourite flowers. gojo had made you feel like you were special, something special to him, and as usual you fell for the smoke screens and mirrors that masked how he truly felt. 

how he wanted to own every part of you. 

you’d wanted to celebrate two years being tied to one another and he let you, because in order to take — you have to give a little. 

gojo somehow feels closer than before, his lips treading lightly over your supple stomach while his thumbs trace circles over your hips. you preen into his touch, love bristling in your chest and replacing the heaviness that weighs it down. “you’re coming?” 

“wouldn’t miss it for the world, baby.” comes his husky, breathy whisper — uttered against your warm skin like a promise of love and support. satoru presses a wet kiss just above your navel all while slyly tugging your shirt further up, distracting you from the task at hand (folding clothes).

something stirs within your lower tummy, a blistering hot sensation spreads from your core to your chest, your mind and all four of your limbs as if someone’s thrown gasoline onto a fire. gojo’s curious silver tongue travels further — tracing over the saltine droplets of sweat on your skin while he licks up to your rib cage. every twist of his pink muscle against you makes your breath catch in the ridges of your throat and your entire body wrack with a case of the shakes. 

still, you continue to unpack, struggling with the items in your grip as large palms claw up your back and force you down into satoru’s widespread lap, not that you mind — being pressed up all against him. “oooh, that’s cute,” satoru taunts you playfully, pulling back from the love marks he’s painted where your breasts meet your ribs. he blinks over at the article of clothing between your nimble fingers, white flashes tickling your skin as he does so.

his scent is so overwhelming you can’t even think, not at all what one would expect. it’s fresh, almost cold to inhale, like peppermint, pine and cool air from the highest peak of the mountain. 

you look down at gojo dumbly, earning yourself the sound of his melodious laughter. in response,  he juts his head in the direction of your hand. “your bra, you gonna wear that for me?”

shifting your gaze over to the baby blue lace, you grin and toss it aside — using your free hands to push satoru back against your sheets. 

“maybe, if you’re lucky.” 

he growls in reply, predatory and playful all at once, lifting his head, with his pool of silver-moon hair rising from your bed, to capture your lips in a slow, spit-swapping kiss. he allows you to pin his wrists above his head, barely putting up a fight as you swallow him down and devour him whole — your tongues clash for dominance, slipping and sliding over one another while your hands do the same to the silver roots of his hair. 

one of your hands travel down to cup his cheek, tilting gojo’s head up just a tad more so that you can pour more of your passion into him. the kiss becomes, in the only way that you can describe it, hurried and hungry — the more of yourself you give to him, the more satoru becomes filled with your love and innermost parts of your soul. you give and give and give until his glass is full to the brim.

you grow weaker by the second, falling victim to the predatory, hot mouth of your lover and your grip on his wrists loosen just enough for his calloused fingertips to fluidly cascade down your body — finding purchase in the loops of your pesky jeans, tugging them away from your marred flesh and soft ass. once he’s bored with toying with your clothes, the silver haired man uses his reach on your ass to push you closer, kiss you harder, grind his swelling erection into the gap between your plush thighs.

the two of you can’t be closer, noses knocking against one another clumsily and breath becoming scarce as your lungs ache and burn for a fresh in-take of oxygen between drooly lip locks. it’s messy, you’re both messy — your relationship always has been. but in this very moment, you can’t find it in yourself to care, addicted to the weight of gojo’s tongue in your mouth and the way his smooth, glossy lips feel against your own. both of your chests heave, your bodies growing hotter and tenser each time you swirl your hips down onto him or he bucks up into you.

“baby,” satoru sighs airily, twitching underneath you — all restless and impatient. “you’re so pretty like this, on’top’a me,” his crystal blue eyes have darkened to a midnight blue, almost black with a list that makes his pupils blow wide. you’ve seen this change too many times to be unfamiliar with what satoru wants. that very thing being you. “smoke with me a little?” his plea barely covers up the low moan that escapes him as your hips jerk against him. his touch scorches through the all-too-tight denim hugging your waist, leaving burn marks at your tail bone. he’s desperate for this, desperate for you. 

how can you say no.

your face splits into an angelic, agreeable grin. just what satoru likes to see. “c’mon then, where’s your stash?” in reply, he lifts his hips higher from the bed — nudging the thick outline of his cock against your sensitive clothed pussy. 

“sorry.” he lies easily. “back pocket.” 

moving to dig around in said pocket, you pull out gojo’s tiny baggy of weed — noting the joints he’d probably rolled up prior to coming here. sometimes, you had the nagging thought that your man always loved you better when you were a little bit high. you gloss over the idea, however, reaching into your nightstand nearby for your sanrio lighter while you toss gojo the bag. he picks out a blunt for you to share and you trigger the flame.

you take the joint between your lips, plumped up from all the kissing you’ve been doing, and let satoru wrap a bulky arm around your middle — pinning you to his larger-than-yours frame. his chest is plush, warm, and you can feel your heartbeats beginning to sync up beneath your clothes. you hold the lighter to one end, bambi eyes reflecting the orange yellow flame that sets the wrapper alight and hum in content whilst you inhale. 

you hold. exhale. and when the smoke clears, gojo is looking up at you as if you hold the entire universe in your gaze.

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” 

that sweet giggle of yours rings out into the night air. you take a hit before you press your mouth to satoru’s — breathing the smoke into his lungs. 

you’re spoiling him. he knows you don’t really like to smoke, but you’re always sweetest when he gets you a little fucked up. 

“so you’ve said, ‘toru.”

he swipes the blunt from your grip and takes a drag for himself, tapping the ashes out against your sheets as he picks up the salacious motions of his hips again. and like the obedient little thing you are, you grind against him, mewling into his milky skin that’s illuminated by the shy slither of moonlight that peeks on you both through your curtains. 

“i mean it, sweet thing,” another hit, his voice even huskier from the aromatic fumes — even as he gripes lowly into the shell of your ear. “fuck, you’re so perfect like this. grinding on my lap like a needy little girl, hm?” 

whining out for him, you let satoru stick the blunt back in your mouth and sit up — bucking down on his hard, heavy erection as if you’re riding his cock like you usually do. “satoru,” you purr while the weed begins to take residence over your brain, take its effect. you recognise that the supply is from sukuna, the older brother of a boy you knew from college. yuuji itadori, was it? you’d always found him cute but he had a girlfriend and gojo told you to stop worrying about him a long time ago. the very thought sparks something in the back of your mind — at war with giving into satoru’s touch and how it makes its way underneath your clothes to thumb at your pebbling nipples. “‘toru…when are you going to tell sugu about us?” 

the mention of your brother should be enough to kill the mood, but you’ve been away from gojo far too long. he’s already got his sights set on ruining you for some fun tonight, pushing his luck by slipping his fingers past your tight waistband in order to mess with your slick pussy folds against your panties. 

“do i need to?” he drawls, laughs a little, voice breaking through the thick barrier of ardour built up in his throat. “s’not that important. telling him. we’re having fun, right? things are good the way they are.” gojo sticks his tongue out in concentration, fumbling between layers of clothes for your cute little clit and grinning ear to ear when he finds it — watching you quiver and fail to hold yourself up above him as he presses down on the nub, hard. “what good would it do, telling him?”

you could think of a million reasons why, but all of them fail to rush to the forefront of your mind — blocked by desire and the lingering weed in your system. “i…i want to mean somethin’ to you,” comes your babyish voice, hurt and whiny through your pout. satoru takes the blunt from you, rubbing your cunt through your words as they catch in your throat. “wanna be serious with you. want something more. i-i’m a proper adult now… i deserve — oh fuck!” 

you don’t even know why you bring the fact up. that you’re an adult, that you’re grown now. because you’re still a naive little thing who wants so much more from someone older and more experienced. because you’re still suguru’s younger sister to satoru, not his girlfriend. just his forbidden plaything. 

satoru smiles wickedly again as you fail to express yourself, becoming a pliant sticky mess all over his fingers while their tips graze your clit over and over again in rough circles. “‘m sure you are, my big girl yeah?” he’s so cruel to you, talking down on you while he plays your sopping mound like a fiddle. pinching and pulling at your folds and your poor little clit. “you’re so close, aren’t you? think you might cum from a couple’a fingers ‘n a bit of weed…” 

heat brews under the surface of your skin, most hot at the centre of your face where you start to feel humiliated and embarrassed. even more so because you like it, when the silver haired man is mean to you like this. “satoru…t-that’s not what i meant—“ you try, gushing and crying. “s-satoru i’m g-gonna—!” 

knock, knock, knock.

“hey little one, i’m home!” 

the pair of you jump apart at the smooth sound of suguru’s calm and timbre voice. 

it’s like a shock to your system, like being doused with cold water or waking up from a hangover after one too many shots. with wild eyes you look from your half-hard boyfriend to the open window — immediately shoving up and pulling his hands from your pants. “g-get up!”  you seethe, teeth and tongue, all of your syllables rushed. 

“was that suguru?” gojo asks, voice elevated with panic while he puts the blunt out against your windowsill. 

you nod vigorously, using your shaky limbs to push satoru back out the way he came. “yes! now go!” 

“hey, little one? it’s me, suguru..”

he scrambles to climb back out the window and you lean over the edge to watch him go — accepting the chaste kiss he gives you on the way out. the second that gojo is out of view, you chuck the half-smoked joint into your trash can and kick the rest of sukuna’s supply underneath your bed to cover up the evidence.

“c-come in!” you finally squeak, putting on your best smile for your adoptive older brother. 

your bedroom door swings open, revealing a tired suguru with tousled clothes and sleepy dark eyes. he looks older, maturer, but he’s still the same brother you love and grew up with. “there’s my little princess,” he cheers, tying back the dark tresses of his (much) longer hair before he opens his arms wide to give you a hug. 

you quickly accept, nuzzling your cheek against suguru’s firm shoulder (also wiping your tears on him). “sugu! when did you get back?” 

“not too long ago. i tried calling, but you didn’t pick up.” his voice is laced with suspicion and you swear you hear him sniff the air from above your head — close to catching the traces of weed on you. 

“i was… unpacking!” stepping back, you stumble over to your toiletries that you’d begun to unpack earlier and eagerly (a little too eagerly) spritz some of your expensive perfume into the air. “s-sorry! i’m the thinking of wearing this scent to dinner on sunday…any thoughts?”

you swear you hear gojo groan from outside, no doubt listening in on your conversation with his best friend and your older brother — no doubt finding your excuse flimsily and unbelievable. suguru, despite it all, takes the bait or chooses not to bite any further — his eyes no longer narrowed and his face relaxed. 

“speaking of things to wear for sunday night…” he begins, digging deep into his left pocket for a small red velvet box. “i got you a little something, as…congrats for all of your hard work recently.” 

suguru reaches forward to take your hand in his, turning it over so that he can place the box in the centre of your palm. you glance up at your older brother hesitantly, but he only gives you a warm reassuring smile — gesturing for you to open it.

you do we told, the box creaking open at his hinges to reveal a real diamond necklace with a beautiful, dazzling sapphire pendant at its centre. just by looking it at it, you know that the sapphire and silver combination will contrast decadently against the deep, sun-kissed tones of your skin.

“o-oh sugu, you shouldn’t have!”

“but i did, think of it as my parting gift to you.” the older geto sibling explains kindly. “you’re going out into the world to do something special, to help people. you deserve to be spoiled before you get there.” his gentle hands close the box for you, setting it aside on your dresser before suguru links your fingers — staring down at you wistfully. “everything out there is dangerous. people will try to take advantage of you and your kindness. but like gem stone in hard shell rock, you must preserve that little shine of yours…” you let him brush at a dry tear mark on your cheek, your fingers slipping down to his wrist to hold them tight. “i will always be here to look out for you, no matter what. but i won’t always be able to be by your side.” 

the seriousness of the conversation overwhelms you with a weighty guilt. suguru has always looked after you and done his best to keep you away from any harm. you imagine that satoru would be right in how destroyed your brother would feel after finding out you ran into the arms of the biggest danger of all. 

his best friend. 

so you suck it up, mask your guilt and press a kiss to your brother’s cheek — hoping that he’ll forgive you if the truth ever surfaces. 

“i know, thank you sugu,” comes your simple, appreciative reply. “i’ll always have you, and satoru too.”

he laughs and kisses your forehead “that you will. but don’t get too close to him okay? he’s trouble. i wouldn’t want him to mess things up for you.” 

“i know, suguru.” 

the exchange is left at that, with suguru patting your shoulder as he bids you a goodnight. your entire body sags with relief once he’s gone, similar to that of a snake shedding its skin. you can’t keep lying to him like this but you don’t want to break his heart. maybe satoru was right. maybe you were wrong. either way, you feel conflicted and torn between two.

when you go to close the window, satoru is still waiting for you — safely on the ground below. his blue eyes beg to come back inside, to be with you, but you’ve danced with the devil too much tonight. gojo won’t take you seriously. he might ruin things for you, just like your brother said. 

“call me when you get home safe, okay?” you murmur to him in order to make sure you don’t get caught. 

you latch your window closed right after, not even bothering to wait for gojo’s reply. 

either you’ll keep sneaking around with him or you’ll eventually give him up, but for tonight — you decide that you’ll just shut the silver snake out.

“i’ve never known you to like the colour blue so much.” 

the day before your fancy and celebratory dinner — suguru geto decided that his spoiled little sister isn't quite spoiled enough. growing up, he’d bring you toys from his shitty part time job at the department store on weekends or food from the chef’s at satoru’s place after hanging out with that loser all day. 

in college, it would be magnets or posters or big, surprisingly well-made hoodies from the campus gift shop because suguru would always tell you that his little one would be going to university too — that you’d do him proud and achieve big things. you were destined for so much more and had every ounce of support in your corner. from your brother, your parents…there’s always been a pressure on your shoulder to make something of yourself, become someone worthy of their support. 

by the time suguru had graduated and landed his own job — the little gifts he’d gotten you became pricier and more luxurious. your brother had called them items of encouragement, a taste of what was to come once you made it out into the real world. not that he would actually ever let you spend a dime of your own, big brothers were supposed to be there for sweet little sisters like you to fall back on. he wanted you to know that he would always have you covered, have you spoiled with everything you’d ever wanted — mostly to keep your standards high, ensuring that you never settled for anything less than what your older sibling could provide you with. 

that’s how days like today first came about — you called it sibling bonding time. 

first on the agenda was breakfast at the humble little bakery your parents often treated you both to after a batch of good grades at school. it wasn’t too far from the house and you use the walk to catch up, bouncing excitedly by your brother’s side while he gushed to you about highly classified information from his line of work. there was always something to admire about suguru, how dedicated he was to keeping you safe and making a name for himself outside of the shelter of your home. 

in some ways, you wanted to be just like him. it could've been that you admired suguru too much or leaned on him even more. interdependency as some would call it. 

that didn’t matter to you though, your relationship with your brother has always been precious to you and that’s all that matters. 

the rest of your early morning was spent with a pampering session, manicures, and pedicures and makeup testing — even a trip to the hair stylist who happily braided your bountiful curls into your favourite look. 

next, was a late afternoon shopping spree. suguru drives you into the fanciest mall he can think of to spend the day. the elitist of the elite. designer stores were plotted at every corner, stocked to the brim with luxury goods that wouldn’t even put a dent in your brother’s salary nowadays. if you wanted it, you got it — without a word or question against you. suguru let you fill your basket with a purse and bag for the evening ahead, and right now, the last thing on your agenda would be the perfect dress to wear to your dinner.

that’s what had brought you to this very moment, the one where you completely blank on your brother because he’s noticed something different about you. 

something akin to a nuisance of a crush on gojo satoru.

blinking once, you turn on your heel to face suguru and snap out of your distant thoughts. “i-i’m sorry, what was that?”

the older, raven haired man smiles at you as if you’re being silly — as though there aren’t any thoughts up in that pretty little head of yours. “i said, you’ve grown awfully fond of the colour blue recently.” he keeps his voice soft and comforting while speaking to you, avoiding any accusatory tones that might set his sensitive younger sister off. “it’s not even your favourite colour.” geto adds, approaching you by the clothes rack in what seems to be your fifth designer fashion store. 

you may be spoilt but at least you have taste — the number of zeroes on the price tag was never an issue for your brother anyway.

he gestures down at the items folded over your crossed arms — the ones you wanted to take to the back and try on. heat flashes under the surface of your skin when you realise suguru is in fact right. there’s a plethora of fabric bundled in your arms with only one thing in common. 

they all share the shade of a baby powder blue. 

it’s the type of blue that reminds you of the sky on days where the weather is just right — when the sun is able to pierce through the veil of fluffy white clouds and shine down on you. the type of blue that hides behind lilac and orange when the sun rises at dawn. the type of blue that sometimes reminds you of clear winter skies after snowfall and drawing shapes in your condensed breath on the glass. 

it’s the type of blue akin to satoru gojo’s brilliant eyes — the ones that look as though they hold unseen stars or undiscovered galaxies, the secrets of the universe yet to be known by mankind. oh those eyes, they’re so dreamy that you could get lost in them for a milenia and never be bored. 

to anyone who knows about the two of you — it would make sense for blue to have become one of your favourite colours. it is the embodiment of satoru, everything down to loving him is blue, and bleak and beautiful all at once. 

yet, suguru could never know that. it would ruin everything. 

“i just…i just think it’s pretty!” internally, you feel yourself cringe and the weak excuse — threading your fingers through the dresses in your hold. “don’t you think the colour would like nice on me, sugu? if not, i can put them back—“

your older brother grabs at your wrist before you can even think to commit such an action — stopping you from putting anything back onto the clothes rack. “you’d look pretty in anything you wore, little one.” he lets out a nervous chuckle, moving to pet your head softly. “i just imagined you in something a little more—“

“blue. it’s perfect — isn’t it? it matches my pendant too…” spinning around to face your brother, you hold a beautiful cupcake styled tulle dress to suguru’s gaze, and dawn over its gemstone sweetheart necklace that has a twinkle bright enough to rival satoru’s eyes. you wonder how he’ll look at you once he sees it on you, contrasting perfectly with your warm complexion. a secret, not so innocent part of you hopes that satoru will just rip it off of you. the other, wishes you’d calm down and behave.

suguru offers you a wavering smile, before relenting. “if that’s what you want, sweetheart.” he hums, gesturing towards the fitting rooms. “how about you try it on, see how it looks?” 

nodding your head, you shove your discarded choices into his arms and disappear into a booth — excited to see how the article of clothing looks on you. you strip easily, kicking off your jeans while suguru wanders around impatiently outside. 

“so…is it a boy that you’re wearing this for?” comes his deep voice through the curtains, lifted in tone only by its teasing lilt. 

when you were younger, you would always gush to suguru about your crushes — whether he cared or not, your excited and love-struck musings always struck his ear. you remember being in his room while he studied or gamed, tucked into his side or braiding his luscious black hair while telling him all about how much you loved this one boy in your class. suguru would tell you to mind your heart and keep her safe, a boy who couldn’t buy you diamonds and make you laugh wasn’t the right boy for you.

you would hate to hear what he thinks about gojo then. a man who buys you diamonds, makes you laugh, fucks you good and breaks your heart all at once.

hugging your discarded t-shirt to your chest as if to protect the beating organ, you frown. “it isn’t! why would i dress pretty for some boy?”

“good. boys are dangerous,” clothing ruffles over the sound of suguru’s voice as he reminds you of the lesson he’s taught you many times over the years. trust no man, except for your brother. “i won’t always be here to keep an eye on you or keep you out of said danger. so just…focus on making a name for yourself. especially after you’ve worked so hard to graduate from uni.”

you scoff and grab the dress — debating whether or not you should step into it or pull it over your head. “i’m not a child anymore, sugu. i don’t need you to watch out for me… i’m old enough to make my own choices. i’m responsible too.” 

he watches your feet peek out from under the curtains as you mess with the dress and attempt to pull it on. geto’s senses jump to high alert listening to you struggle and shuffle to pull it over your head, resisting the urge to jump in and help you. “don’t pull it over your head when you’ve just gotten your hair done,” he grumbles in light annoyance. “step into it, little one.” 

“yeah, i got it!” comes your snappy voice in return while you readjust and try again. 

suguru leans against the nearest wall, crossing his arms over his chest — he slips into silence as you slip into your dress. “i know you do, you’re a smart girl.” you get the feeling he’s not talking about how you try it on anymore, and your stomach turns as you adjust the skirts. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t worry. once you lose your focus, everything comes crashing down. that’s what happened to satoru. i wouldn’t want you to end up like him.” 

again, your tummy lurches in the worst of ways at the mention of gojo and how much geto hates the idea of the two of you ever getting together. sure, satoru was childish and irresponsible — refuting the orders of the higher ups in his family… he could be disappointing at times too, with questionable loyalty. yet sometimes… sometimes satoru could be so good and stable, oftentimes reminding you of why you wanted to be with him in the first place. 

he is special to you, in so many ways that is beyond the web of human comprehension. you love satoru gojo so much that your lungs burn with the need for air whenever he’s not around for you to breathe in. 

the idea of not having him around often because of your brother is like oxygen deprivation itself.

“satoru isn’t that bad.” you counter, toying with the beading at your neckline while you inspect yourself in the mirror. he would love it on you. “don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on him? he is your best friend after all.” it takes your all not to bust out and tell your brother all about your relationship with said best friend, even if it kills him and ruins the rose tinted glass above his head.

pushing the curtains open you step out just as geto starts to scold you again. “satoru gojo is lazy and hardly competent, he wouldn’t be right for you and you know that— oh.”

he stops speaking when you step out to show him the dress, your eye bright and doe-like, almost pleading — while the fabric sticks to all the right curves, making you look stunning. making you appear more mature. “help me do the zip f’me, suguru? i can’t reach.” 

“come here, i’ve got you,” suguru whispers in quiet awe, turning you gently by the shoulders to do the honours of zipping you in at the low back of the dress. “you look perfect, give me a twirl, hm, little one?”

twirling as told, suguru watches proudly as your skirts flail about the place — it’s sparkle catching on the UV light up above. you’re the perfect angelic picture of his little sister…he doesn’t know how he’ll ever let you go. 

there’s still a pout on your lips undoubtedly from what he’s said about gojo and as much as suguru finds your defensiveness for him weird — he hates seeing you upset just as much. “hey, how about we go pay for your dress…” he calls your name and you tilt your head up just a touch, giving your brother your attention unwillingly. “and since we’re here at the shopping centre, we might as well get dinner. my treat? i’ll get you some of your favourites. perhaps boba and we’ll stop by the stuffed animal store on the way out—“ suguru trails off to see if you’ve taken his snare and got stuck in his trap, he knows you can’t resist being spoiled at the end of the day. 

you nod faster than your pretty little head can catch up. “sounds like a plan, sugu!” 

“i knew you’d say yes,” he snickers proudly, petting your head softly for the second time that late afternoon. then, geto carefully nudges you back into the changing room, patiently waiting for you to remove the dress so he can pay for it while you switch clothes. “i think you made a good choice today. with the dress,” he adds, drawing the curtains for you kindly. “who knows, maybe satoru will even take his head out of his ass to pay you a compliment, admire the colour. he’ll like it for sure.” 

you flinch behind the curtains when they close, trying to keep your voice even. “i-i can’t say i’m hoping for it!” to which suguru laughs heartily, accepting the dress as you chuck it out to him. 

but what you’re really hoping for, is for him to not connect the dots. 

to not find out about yourself and gojo until you’re ready for him too.

the first rule of a situationship, is to never answer the phone after the first ring. that's rule number one for satoru gojo.

it gives the girl the impression that you’re interested in something more than just fooling around, that you want more than the benefits of a relationship while sticking to the talking stage.

but gojo has never been one to follow the rules, not even ones he sets for himself…because when you call, he answers in a heartbeat — just to hear your sweet little voice relaying his name over your tongue and the way you giggle like a darling when he compliments you. 

satoru gojo likes you a lot more than he lets on, he misses you even more so. that’s why he answers on the first ring, practically kicking his feet in his king sized bed  — he hasn’t heard you say his name since the night you kicked him out, and for good reasons too. 

hiding his presence from suguru. 

“hi ‘toru.”

“hi gorgeous,” you can practically hear your lover’s smile through the crackling static over the line. “missed you,” gojo slurs lightly, of course, is high by no means other than sukuna’s supply of the good stuff — inhaling it leisurely through a nicely rolled joint while he listens to you call out for him. your voice is so inviting… so angelic… and if satoru shuts his pretty eyes and tries hard enough, he can just about imagine the way you’d sigh for him as his fingers slip right inside of your sweet little pussy—

“i almost told sugu about us today.” 

that makes satoru jump upright, choking on a deep inhale of cannabis tainted smoke. his lungs ache from trying to recover and the pain spreads to his toned thighs when he’s realised that he’s dropped the roll up in shock, the lit end burning through the grey sweatpants he wears. “fuck. shit… that hurts. idiot.” the silver haired man curses to himself, forgetting you’re still on the line.

“who me?” you simper a little on the sad side, seemingly shifting in your own bed.

satoru instantly picks up on the pouty twinge to your voice and if he hadn’t been burning to death (dramatic much?) he knows that his cock would have twitched to life between his legs at the dulcet sound. “fuck baby, no not you,” he says, words rushing from his mouth as he reassures you. “why would you tell him? did he figure us out?”

you hesitate with your next words. “w-well, um…not exactly…”

“come on baby, you can say it. s’just me, satoru,” gojo goads you with a condescending echo to each of his words, not putting too much pressure on your sweet and empty little head. “don’t think too much. just be good and tell me.” 

while he waits, the man fumbles his way out of bed and stands — somehow managing to tuck his splif between slightly chapped and pale pink lips. he tugs off his shirt, suddenly feeling too hot under the collar, and stalks his way over to his large, wide windows — looking down onto the bustling city below. 

it’s kind of funny, how noisy it is down there, creating almost as much of a ruckus as the racing thoughts in satoru’s brain. 

“i wanted to tell him…because suguru doesn’t think that you deserve me.” you finally say, submissively telling gojo what’s on your mind. it hurts like a bitch to hear, it stings at every unresolved trauma and open wound that he has — not because it’s a lie, but because gojo doesn’t want to accept that reality. 

a reality where he can’t have you, because he could never be someone who meets his best friend’s standards and expectations for you. 

be someone that you deserve. 

gojo exhales the smoke through his nose, letting it sting at his nostrils while he decays from the inside out. if this were any other drug he’d have smokers lungs by age twenty-seven. “well ain’t that the truth.” he mumbles, grim. 

“now satoru, why would you say that?” you sound like you’re about to cry.

“because, it’s not far off is it?” gojo really doesn’t mean to snap. after all, he is high, and this topic could have him spiralling into a really bad trip — but it’s not your fault that you love him, that you want him so bad you’d deny all of your brother’s wishes. that’s on him — he made you that way, and these are simply the consequences of his own action. “fuck… baby. sweetheart, you know you shouldn’t even be with me,” he starts, tucking his blunt between two fingers while running the same hand through his moonlight-kissed hair. “i’m way older than you, i’m hardly ever serious about you when i should be like you want…and hell, your brother sure as fuck doesn’t want me near you. you deserve better, and that’s the truth.” 

he hates saying all that shit to you, projecting his insecurities and inability to properly love someone onto the girl he loves…but gojo does it anyway, as if he can’t control the acid in his stomach — throwing it up everywhere or otherwise it’ll burn him from the inside out. 

“but i don’t want better…i want you.” comes your quiet sob, so tiny and pathetic. satoru resents himself for making you that way — pale white lashes fluttering shut and locking away his murky ocean blue eyes. he tries to picture you happier, instead of crying over the call like you are right now. 

“i want… i want you too.” 

“then…then let’s tell him! together! he’s my brother… and you’re his best best friend. he might understand, if you prove to him that this is what you want. that i’m what you want.” you're perkier when you speak again, and satoru (still high as a kite) wonders if he’d said that just to appease you or if he really meant it. 

a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. 

except gojo isn’t drunk. 

he will admit, he’s pictured the day where you both come clean to the older geto sibling almost a million times. in his mind, satoru’s seen every reaction and emotion possible play out of his best friend’s face — he’s seen them in real life too. yet, the only prevalent expression on suguru geto’s face when anyone ever spoke of you in a nasty manner.. was red hot rage. 

suguru would become another man, one who wasn’t afraid of murder, whenever it came down to you. countless individuals over the years had tried and failed at winning your favour from suguru — as if you were a princess in a castle. each one of them would regret trying for the rest of their lives. 

and each time you remained none the wiser to how bad suguru really was and the lengths he’d go to keep you his innocent little sister. 

gojo didn’t want that for himself, to face the wrath of his best friend. 

but maybe he could try to withstand it, for you. 

the girl he might actually love, after all. 

“we can try…i’ll try for you.” he mutters quietly over the line after sometime. satoru sounds neither hopeful or hopeless, but either way it does the trick for you. you laugh for him, airily and bubbly, it makes the man smile around the blunt resting between his rows of perfect teeth. your happiness is enough to be his happiness. 

he wished he allowed himself to feel that way about you more. 

“and i for you, ‘toru. we’ll be together openly someday.” you gush. 

the two of you chat for a little while longer until you adorably fall asleep on gojo and his blunt finally ends…but by the end of it, he can’t help but get this sinking feeling. where anxiety fills the cavity in satoru’s chest and drowns his optimistic heart in worry — slowing down its steady beat.

things won’t be as happy as he wants them to be. 

and he doesn’t quite have the heart or guts to tell you that. 

satoru gojo has always been afraid of love. 

it’s not an emotion that comes easy to him — like the second nature of most human beings. there’s no innate need to love someone for satoru, there’s no urge to be tender or to hold someone in high regard because of the way he feels about them. love is not something that’s bound to his DNA or feeling he’s known since his very conception. or perhaps it was the environment in which he was raised, the way that his father was never home and his mother was always crying — her choked sobs only increasing in severity when she cast her gaze upon her only child. 

that white hair and those blue eyes reminded her way too much of the man who couldn’t love her back. 

perhaps that’s why he’s afraid to open up his heart, bordering up with layers of concrete and brick to protect it from the harsh reality of the world. the organ beats, it pumps blood around his body and keeps satoru alive — but it doesn’t carry an ounce of love. it’s as if he’s incapable. all he feels is resentment, towards his father and towards his mother — towards the people who did nothing but try to show him that he was worthy of warmth and intimacy. 

he hates them because he doesn’t deserve it. satoru is nothing but a cold husk of a human being, a shell long since abandoned by its owner or inhabitant. there’s nothing to care for behind the walls of human flesh and tissue, no open heart to hold between one’s fingers with the promise of keeping it safe. satoru gojo doesn’t love because he’s afraid and it makes him feel like he can’t. 

the people who love you always leave. to gojo, that’s a proven fact. his memories tied the emotion are never fond — his mother left him for a better life and better family with another man. his father left him for the company and late nights at work, a glass of brandy in his right hand. all satoru knew growing up was the cold, empty silence of his childhood home that should have been filled with happiness, laughter and warmth. 

the people who love you are supposed to come back. for gojo, no one ever did. no one cradled him when he cried, no one held his hand through the scariest moments of his life. no one came back for him. 

how could a man like that ever learn to love someone outside of himself? 

how could a man like him make anyone happy? 

satoru thinks that he would be a miserable addition to anyone’s life, a thick smog that hides the brightness from the world and blocks out any sunshine. no one around him deserves to be happy, it’s why he so selfishly and recklessly tears them apart in front of the media or acts rebellious to tarnish his family’s infamous reputation. his actions have no consequences, he hurts no one he loves because he loves no one. 

no one except for… 

“master satoru,” the matured voice of his personal driver interrupts the deep pool of thoughts gojo drowns in. “we may be slightly late for dinner with the getos. with your permission, perhaps i can make a detour? it’s not the safest route in town but it would get us there faster—“ 

no one except for you.

satoru sits up straight in the back seat of his expensive, sleek black car as if he’s been hit with the realisation that you exist. that you’re still here and still made to be loved. the man doesn’t believe in soulmates, or red strings of fate or happily ever after’s, yet — in the short two years that he’s been fooling around with you, satoru has somehow managed to fall deeply and irrevocably in love with you. 

by all means, it doesn’t show — hell, you probably don’t even know how satoru really feels about you. he’s terrible at being genuine and hides behind a porcelain mask that only shows you the worst parts of him, that the entire world takes pleasure in seeing…but it’s true. he loves you. against all odds, the very feeling has managed to take root in the white haired rich boy’s chest, like the smallest flower blooming in the harshest of tundras. there’s something satoru didn’t know, that love has resistance, and no matter how hard he tries to act like he doesn’t — it will always find a way to thrive.

satoru might love you so much it makes him physically sick — one look at you and he’s rendered weak in the knees and short of breath. you’ve got a smile full of sunshine that warms satoru even with the bone chilling air outside. your eyes are enticing, deep pools of chocolate and hazel notes that drag him in like a fish on a line. your lashes are always soft against his skin, long enough to rival his even though you comment about how much you adore his every time you’re together. 

you’ve got the man under a fucking spell and he’s not sure he ever wants it to be broken. at first, you were just something sweet to snack on, someone that gojo couldn’t have which only made him want you more. you’d be his pet — nothing more. he’d keep you at arms length until he was bored and could toss you away. however, over time, gojo’s want grew to love and even now, you’ve no clue how much you affect him, he regrets not showing that to you more.

he still treats you like you’re a child, a naive little thing because he’s terrified of opening up to you, frightened by the mere thought of you running for the high hills once you see what the man who loves you is really like. 

satoru takes to adjusting his tie as the car switches lanes into a less polluted route — avoiding the evening traffic so that he can get to the destination faster. for some reason, anxiety spikes gojo’s blood stream with nervous hormones clinging to each red cell. the car becomes too enclosed, too compacted and the dark night outside doesn’t help him much either — it’s as if he’s lost in the void of space trapped with his own feelings. 

his tongue darts out to wet the seal of his pink lips and his twitching fingers pull at the stupid necktie his PA had picked out for him tonight. there’s one thing that he’s forgetting, one thing that’s worse than loving you — a guilt that sneaks up on gojo when he’s truly alone with his riveting thoughts.

the man lets out a shuddering breath. “fuck. me.” he says quietly, the two words colourful on his tongue.

there’s suguru too.

and the betrayal he’ll feel when he finally realises that satoru gojo is fucking his little sister.

gojo loves getou. though it’s a different kind of love in comparison to what he wants to share with you. it’s brotherly. friendly. and it goes back years beyond the situationship the white haired man has trapped you in. it would absolutely kill your brother if he ever found out, ruining the supposedly unbreakable bond they’ve developed over the time that they’ve known each other. 

a flash of pain flashes across gojo’s chest as if he’s been slashed with a knife — he grips the car handle tight, his knuckles turning white with how forceful his grip is. you and suguru are all that he has. the only family who ever truly cared for him and treated him like their own. of course his selfish actions and self-centred mindset would find a way to come between you both. he would be sure to kill the delicate sibling bond you have, satoru is an asshole like that.

it’s why he can never tell suguru about the fooling around you’ve done over the last two years — he would lose his one and only best friend. in the same breath, he could lose you too. you’re a smart girl, you’ll learn to leave him eventually and spread your own wings with pride.

the both of you were better off without him. 

satoru was nothing but a chaotic storm that left nothing but wreck and destruction in its wake. it was an absolute guarantee that he would tear the two of you apart, create more than surface level crack in the crust of the world you two have created together. he’s just no good, nothing good ever comes of him. 

but the love he has for you, building in slow stacks between the gaps in his rib cage, is addictive — much like that buzz from weed or the stale taste of a cigarette on his tongue. he’ll never have enough of you, and that very fact is what makes satoru gojo the most vile human he’s ever known. 

he’d rather die than give you up. rather tear you apart from your brother than let you go.

the admission to himself makes the play boy’s stomach turn and twist wrongly, the air in his lungs turning bitter and clogging up his throat. gojo’s hand slams against the door of his car, fumbling to wind down the window and feel the cool bite of cold against his skin. 

“p-pull over,”  satoru whispers, more so to himself in the back of the vehicle than to anyone else. his nails dig into the rough skin on his palms, and the blood rushes through his ears — louder and louder. painfully so. 

the driver looks to his master in the rear view mirror — concern sketched upon his features. “but master satoru, we’re just a few minutes away—“ 

“i said, fucking pull over!” gojo damn near screams in reply, throwing a piercing blue gaze at his poor driver. his head throbs heavily with guilt so by the time the car comes to a screeching halt, satoru’s close to throwing up on the sidewalk. “s-shit.”

the bile tastes like soured guilt in his mouth — but nothing comes. he’s sure he looks like a fool, half hanging out of his mercedes, pale as the silvering moon with the indication that  he’s going to be sick. 

“satoru,” his driver speaks to him tenderly, like a loving father would to his child. a comfort gojo never had the luxury of. “it’s not too late to go back home, i can have one of the maids ring suguru to let him know you won’t be in attendance. you don’t look your best.” 

the white haired man’s ragged breaths as he stands hands on knees in the middle of the road accompany the late night ambience — rushing cars and sirens, heels clattering against concrete pavement and groups of people laughing away. the sounds ring loud in his ear, overloading gojo and his guilty conscience until there’s a warm hand on his shoulder. 

his driver, reassuring him once again. 

“it’s okay, satoru. just breathe.” 

the statement somehow brings him back to present day, along with a heavy breath of frosty air. his driver rubs his back in smooth circles until satoru is able to stand to his full height — less queasy looking than he was before. 

“i’d like to go,” he clears his throat, replacing his woozy expression with his signature bright eyed, sparkly-white toothy grin. “i made a promise, to the people i love.” 

with a firm nod and gentle smile, satoru’s driver gives his employer one last firm pat on the back before returning to his position behind the wheel — ready to make the rest of the commute to the restaurant. 

it takes a moment for satoru to slip back into the car — and during that time, he reflects. he may be selfish, he may be an asshole, he may be sick and twisted right down to the core. but at the centre of all that, is his compassionate love for you and he would do anything to prove it. 

even if it means losing it all, just to be with you in the way you’ve always wanted.

satoru gojo is not as brave as he thought. 

the rest of his car ride to the restaurant is uneventful — aside from the silver haired playboy’s random musings. the pep talk he gives to himself while tugging at the tight loop of his neck tie. everything will be okay.

it’s just dinner with you, and dinner with the getos. an event that he’s attended dozens of times over the years because suguru is his best friend and your parents love him. 

except this isn’t just dinner. 

this is make or break. 

should he choose to make things official with you, it would shatter the very foundation of his relationship with suguru. the same if satoru chooses to ignore what you’re asking of him. 

the nerves unload on satoru as he jogs up the smooth marbled steps at the forefront of the restaurant — hesitating when the concierge on duty holds open the mahogany framed and glass panelled door. he can’t bring himself to go inside and face the consequences of his own actions over the last two years. 

just as he spins on his heels to run away, chelsea boots clicking against with every step — the sky starts to rumble and unleashes its heavenly tears upon the land below. rain.

gojo’s car has long since vacated the fancy premises — leaving him with no true escape home. he could just call a cab, call his driver, but duty and respect for his family away from family, for you, roots him to his spot outside of the restaurant. 

he spends the next twenty minutes with a rolled up joint between his ever glossy, plush pink lips.

the weed does nothing to mollify gale force winds and torrential downpour set heavy over gojo’s mind. his entire body is tense with apprehension, spreading cold from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. the weather itself causes gojo’s fingers to go stiff as he inhales the addictive fumes, a burnt amber crowning the other end of his blunt.

“since when did you smoke, satoru?”

satoru coughs and the smoke goes down wrong, he looks up at his intruder with bleary eyes that soften once his gaze lands. “started two years ago,” he says to suguru as his smile turns wistful. “couldn’t find a real reason to quit.” 

the reality of his words are masked by the sound of heavy rain hitting the ground, the tops of cars and the restaurant’s outer steps. it’s you, that satoru can’t seem to quit. 

if he dares to stop, he’ll go mad with withdrawals and a nicotine patch won’t fix him. 

“you really should stop getting addicted to the things that are bad for you.” suguru scolds his best friend, sidling up beside him. 

like you, his sister? 

satoru doesn’t deserve the aura of his warmth as they stand with one another. “yeah? no shit.” 

the younger of the pair holds his hand out for the joint, which gojo passes easily. the city bustle fills up the silence between them — occupying every particle of air that buzzes with kinetic energy in that very same space. silences shared between gojo and geto were not uncommon, they were the type of friends who could communicate a million words to one another in a blink of an eye. but tonight’s soundlessness feels tense, thick with an uncomfortable awkwardness that neither of them know the source of. 

be that as it may, satoru has always been able to mask his true feelings from the world and so he turns to his old friend slyly, giving him a casual punch to the shoulder while they smoke their worries away. 

“what’s got you so wound up, suguru?” satoru asks, playing coy and covering up. 

beady, blackened and tired eyes settle on his taller frame — trying to read the small print that codes each and every one of satoru gojo’s actions and behaviours. to the untrained eye (or anyone who hadn’t been practically raised by his side) gojo’s being his normal and cocky, maybe even obnoxious, self. though, to suguru — a man who’s been beside gojo through it all… there’s something missing. 

a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit.

suguru plays along, moving his chess piece along the board of the game satoru is playing. he’ll figure it out eventually. 

letting out a puff of glacier grey fumes — the older geto sibling shrugs and taps the ashes onto the floor. narrowly missing gojo’s expensive patent boots.

“she’s grown up so fast,” he admits slowly, with a husky chuckle — probably from the smoke. “i’m scared she won’t need me anymore.” suguru’s voice is usually so full of endearment and pride when he speaks of you but this time, all dazzling and pure emotion seems to be lost on him. 

the very notion scares satoru. 

he swipes the splif back to relieve the queasy feeling stirring deep in his gut once again. “she can take care of herself.” gojo mutters, coolly.

“i know that.” suguru replies, smoothly and icily. “but if she doesn’t need me anymore, she won’t listen to me anymore. there’ll be no one to warn her of the people who’ll take advantage of that. her ability to care for herself. i set a high standard for her, i don’t want anyone to claim they can do a better job than me.”

your brother is protective above all things, he’d rather kill a man than let you get hurt. satoru finds the sentiment both admirable and terrifying all at once. 

“you’ve done enough, man, how about you let her go?”

suguru turns snarky in response, teeth bared like a wild animal protecting its young. “maybe you’ll never understand the fickle connections of love…but adopted or not she is my little sister.” he asserts, glaring daggers into satoru’s skull as he smokes with a hand covering his mouth nonchalantly. hiding the quiver of his lip that shows how much he cares about this. about possibly screwing your life up. “i’d rip the heavens apart for her if she asked, i love her that much. i often wonder if any person would do the same for her.”

little does suguru know…satoru would do the absolute same for you and more. he would kill, he would die, he would destroy all for you. until he was bloody and raw. anything it took for you to keep on smiling up at him like that, he would do. and suguru would never know, because he’d end the world if he knew it was satoru that had defiled you. 

satoru is such a coward. 

neither of the men most important in your life speak after that, though, they continue sharing the joint until it’s nothing but burt orange ashes and fumes laying across their minds. the concierge does butt in at some point, kindly (and with a tight lipped smile) pointing out that the restaurant is three michelin stars and that smoking isn’t preferred. 

satoru hates rules, so he spits on the steps and chucks the blunt to the floor — stomping it out.

suguru only chuckles at his best friend’s antics, smacking him upside the head as he jogs up to the grand entrance — gojo’s hands in his pockets, his once crisp tuxedo messy with burnt ash and rain water. gojo stops just shy at of the sleek, pearlescent moulded handles and throws his mop of silver hair back over his shoulder.

“are we doing this thing or what, suguru?”

they share a familiar, all knowing smile. 

“yeah, satoru. let’s do this.” 

without even knowing, that everything is about to change.

you’ve always been a little nervous, especially without a grounding presence beside you.

for many years… your brother, suguru, was that presence. he knew all the best ways to keep you calm — like that little tune he taught you to tap onto your desk during quiet exam hauls, or that method of breathing so your lungs were so full of air and you stopped holding it before public speaking. suguru always knew best. 

but nowadays, you don’t find yourself seeking serenity in him. as if you were at a crossroads, your head always turns in the direction of someone you love with almost every corner of your heart. that someone being satoru. he may use you, he may fuck you and fling you to the side when he’s done but he grounds you. even when he isn’t trying to. in the subtle way that he toys with the beads braided into the ends of your hair while you sleep over at his place, or grabs at your waist in public spaces so that you don’t get lost or bullied by paparazzi. in the way that gojo makes you breakfast after bruising you and breaking your back beyond belief the night before — just to make it up to you.

satoru cares, even if it doesn’t look like it, he does.

and it almost makes you sick to your stomach — the thought of you craving his attention to that level.

your dainty fingers and blush-tone acrylic nails toy with the heavy pendant draped around your neck — the one that suguru gifted you. he had told you it shines under every light at every angle possible and you’re sure with the crystal chandeliers above, it’s blinding. 

“stop that,” your mother scolds you warmly, in her own charming way of easing your nerves. “you’ll break that big expensive gift from your brother.” you cast a glance upwards from its fixation on the pearl white tablecloths and glinting silver table settings to focus on your parents. as per usual, your father is too engrossed in reading every detail of the menu to notice your discomfort and nerves, while your mother can’t seem to look away. reading you to filth, much like suguru does. 

her efforts do nothing to help calm you down. 

your hand shifts, taking to twirling the cutlery instead. she sighs, and you shrink in on yourself — trying to take up as little space as possible. “‘m sorry,” comes your hushed little bleat.

“never you mind.” she comments, giving you a once over before digging through her purse for a napkin — no doubt to dab at the corner of your mouth like a mother usually does. “i don’t know why you’re so skittish. your exams are over and you’ve graduated! tonight is about celebrating you! it’s just your brother, his friend, and us.” 

that’s just it. it’s your brother and his friend. neither of them are aware of what might go down tonight. 

you wished you hadn’t told satoru that you want his commitment — maybe then you wouldn’t be scared shitless in a tight dress at an upscale restaurant downtown. maybe then you wouldn’t be dreading satoru’s decision or suguru’s reaction to that decision. 

you only wished you weren’t so selfish, to crave love from more than one person in two completely different ways. 

the love from your brother should be enough, he’s only gone and done so much for you. 

but it isn’t. and that makes you feel sick. 

you want to be loved in the way that plays out in movies. where the guy chases the girl through an airport just to confess how much he needs her. or stands in the thunderous rain to tell her how sorry he is. 

you want that from satoru. deep down, you know he wants it too. 

the only thing that stands in your way is the affection that radiates so strongly off of your brother — like an umbrella protecting you from heaven’s downpours. 

it’s been almost twenty minutes since your brother left his seat at your side to retrieve satoru from…well, wherever he is — like a stray cat picked up by a caring and kind-hearted stranger. you don’t know how’ll act when you see them together, side by side but you do know that ever second ticks by has you angstier and angstier. 

the waiter has come by at least four times, asking if you’re ready to order, ready for drinks, ready to be served. “no,” you mumble politely on his fifth return — anxious to the point where your grip on your sterling silver fork has your knuckles turning white. “we’re waiting for two others, we’re waiting for—“

“there you two are! we were starting to think the wind had swept you up!” your mother coos as she always does whenever she sets her sights on her favourite two boys. she stands, immediately moving to wrap her arms around suguru’s taller, broad frame as if she hasn’t seen him in a millennia. “suguru! you had your poor family worried sick.” 

your father doesn’t look up from the menu and you’re sure that you look a frazzled mess — but all your brother does is offer up his signature, delightful closed-eye smile, squeezing your mother back in reply. “sorry, ma. i got caught up with looking for this one.” he says warmly, jabbing a thumb into satoru’s side. 

satoru hasn’t looked away from you since he’d arrived at the table. his gaze even follows you as you stand.

he can’t help it, you’re beautiful. 

the dress that you wear hugs every dip and curve of your body, the satin material of your corset and tulle of your skirt in a shade of baby blue to rival his eyes contrasting perfectly against your deep skin. you’ve done your hair in the way that he likes, curled the ends of your braids with loose ones framing the roundness of your youthful face. if you were the last thing satoru gojo ever saw, surrounded by angelic light, he would be happy. he would be content. 

for you, satoru looks like a god amongst mankind. even though his clothes are askew and lightly washed with rain, he’s still perfect to you. pearlescent droplets coat is luxurious white lashes as they flutter against his pale ivory cheeks. his air, all the same, is pushed back from his forehead — exposing those dreamy eyes to you. they hold so much love, interwoven between each greyish-navy fleck dotted against his pupils. love that is all saved up for you.

a bright and angelic grin breaks out across your hot chocolate fenty glossed lips — almost blinding to the regular man but the most beautiful thing to satoru. the waiter prompts you, asking if you’re ready to order once more, to which you respond without looking “yes, thank you.” in a breathy, wispy tone.

jumping between both yours and gojo’s line of sight, your mother pops the bubble that you’re both in. “satoru gojo! is that you?” she squeals with a fond tone. “why do you look so skinny? have you been eating properly?”

your lover squirms like a child being picked apart as your mother reaches up to pinch his cheeks. 

“leave the boy alone, dear, i’m sure he’s been eating just fine.” comes your dad’s uninterested quip. “satoru my boy, how have you been?” 

you sink back into your seat patiently while satoru greets your parents — the charm rolling off of him in radiating heat waves. “i’ve been eating ma, though i think you’d have a fit if you saw what i was eating,” he kisses your mother’s cheek softly while she laughs so hard you think she might pop, and sets a firm hand on your father’s shoulder. “i’m good old man, thanks for askin’! hope you’re cutting back on the liquor.” 

“oh son, you know i don’t do any of that anymore!”

satoru scoffs kittenishly, gesturing between your dad and himself. “yeah, and i’ve stopped being the family disappointment!”

your parents love satoru. you can tell by the way they helplessly fall for his bravado and charisma. he’s magnetising — it’s hard not to fall for satoru in all of the ways possible to mankind. if he wasn’t so afraid of taking you seriously, you can’t help but think that he’d fit right into your family unit of four. it would be perfect, he would be perfect…as your boyfriend. your man. always by your side without hiding in and calling for you from the shadows. 

if only you weren’t such a coward. 

if only he weren’t so afraid.

if only…

suguru clears his throat in faux annoyance, pushing his best friend down by his wide-spanning into an unoccupied seat at the round table so that he’ll stop making a scene — despite how cheery it is. “behave yourself satoru! at least until i order the drinks.” your brother laughs, ruffling the moonlight locs on gojo’s head. he turns to you, face so bright and full of love. “any preferences, little sister?”

“moscato!” you nod without hesitation. you like things on the sweeter side.

“i knew you’d say that,” suguru affirms, taking his leave from the table. “i’ll see if the staff have anything special for you in the back.”

if only suguru wasn’t your older brother. 

maybe then you wouldn’t feel such nauseating levels of guilt as gojo swaps chairs to be one closer to you. maybe then you wouldn’t have to keep your face plain and your body rigid as familiar, pale and slender fingers danced up the inner thigh of your dress — beneath the cupcake skirt, to settle comfortingly and dangerously on it’s apex. maybe then you wouldn’t have to try so hard to control yourself around satoru and especially in front of your parents — who have taken to digging through the fancy menu together while the buzz of the table dies down in suguru’s absence.

you’re so nervous that you fear someone might hear the loud thump of your heart against its cage and the blood rushing through your ears — you don’t even want to look at satoru because you know that with how close he is, you’ll fall apart the minute that you do.

but then he squeezes your thigh, in a tender and affectionate gesture — tracing a heart over the blistering hot patch of your beautiful brown skin just to calm you down. because satoru gojo knows you like no other man. better than anyone, better than your brother even.

“you look…” he starts, his usually husky voice barely above a whisper. the words coagulate in his throat — held back by tethers of spinelessness and debilitating fear. “you’re stunning, sweetheart.” gojo compliments you quietly, the sweet string of words nipping at your ears softly — his long, lavish lashes tickling at the crown of your head from how close he’s gotten by leaning down.

if you turn your head now, you might even kiss him and every fibre of your being prickles with anticipation — desperate to do so. “you’re not so bad yourself, satoru.” 

his laugh fills your lower tummy with warmth. your heart rate picks up too.

“i mean it,” gojo reiterates. he’s desperate for you to look at him, for you to touch him. instead you bury your nose in an à la cart menu that you’re not even truly reading because the circumstances don’t allow for kissing, and holding and touching. not until satoru grows a pair and tells suguru the truth about your relationship and his feelings for you. “i’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.”

you can feel the heat from his breath coast across the surface of your cheek like a condensed mist over the warmed layer of seawater. it caresses you softly, sending shivers down your spine. “you look rather handsome too, satoru.” you joke, poking the hungry bear in its den by tilting your head ever so slightly in his direction. 

he smiles like he always does right before he kisses you, slow and sexy, but the sweet moment is interrupted by the sound of heavy glass borderline slammed on the table — right into the crevice between yourself and gojo. 

you dart apart, hearts racing and mind frazzled, only to find that suguru has returned with the wine he requested specifically for you. his face is hard set when you look up at him, his obsidian eyes darkened with suspicion and fear strikes you in the chest — he knows something, he suspects even more.

“sugu what are you—!”

your older brother lifts his chin with narrowed, cat like eyes. “i want to make a toast.” he announces, slicing through your words with a butcher's knife so sharp it makes both you and gojo squirm uncontrollably. like children being scolded for breaking the rules.

both of your parents put down their menus, excited, happy to be with the children they raised (including gojo) — they mistake your brother’s interruption for enthusiasm to celebrate your achievements. 

“suguru, we’ve hardly ordered anything!” 

“it’s never too late to start the festivities, ma.” he responds with a sly tone and slips into gojo’s previously empty seat to open the bottle of pink moscato. the cork popping makes you jump skittishly, and gojo’s hand slips away from your thigh underneath the table. 

the loss of his touch reminds you that as long as your brother is around, you’ll never be anything more than a little secret to satoru.

liquid gold in the shade of dusted rose pink is passed around the table in crystal glasses — raised in honour of you. suguru says your name, the bulk of his voice full of pride.

“a toast to you, my little sister.” 

you smile, tight lipped but warm — the guilt rushing back you. 

but then gojo’s hand returns to the apex of your thigh, smoothing over the skin under your dress to calm you down once more.

“and everything that you have achieved. congrats on graduating, squirt.” satoru finishes suguru’s toast lovingly, approved by your parents who break out into a round of applause before flagging down a waiter to get the real celebrations underway. they tell you to order whatever you would like, but you take to downing the crisp, sweet flavours of your wine first.

you chug the beverage like it’s cheaply made beer from the college parties you’d been to — the ones satoru stopped you from going to, the ones that you avoided out of loyalty to him where you sought out the commitment he wasn’t ready to give you, a light buzz simmers over your brain, dulling down your high-alert senses and you hope that the alcohol makes you feel anything but present in the moment so that you miss the tense look that gojo and geto share beside you. 

suguru is politely seething and satoru is playing pretend — acting as if there’s nothing wrong or nothing between you. your lover swirls his wine around in his glass, the pink tinted elixir sloshing over its edges before he takes a casual slip, ignoring your brother’s obvious dissatisfaction with satoru’s little addition to his toast.

“satoru.”

you gulp and fixate your gaze on other happenings deeper into the restaurant. your parents make their order. satoru squeezes your thigh once more.

“suguru.” 

could this be it? the moment that gojo tells the truth and the moment that your eldest sibling accepts what you have with his best friend? you twitch in your seat as the confrontation brews and the thunder of their clashing personalities and morals begin to strike. all suguru has to do is ask if he suspects something, and all satoru has to do is confirm the truth. say that he loves you, that you’re his girlfriend while your brother accepts it and is happy for you. 

you wish. that would be an ideal world. 

“you’re in my seat, satoru,”  is what geto settles on, the crescendo of their confrontation falling flat — missing a key note. “you’re sitting next to my sister. i was supposed to sit there.”

“really?” all satoru does is grin, and if you looked close enough, you could see the mischief dancing between the navy flecks in his stunning eyes. 

the waiter comes to take yours, your brother’s and your lover’s orders (after tending to your parents for most of the interaction) — not giving suguru any time to protest his best friend’s faux confusion.

gojo takes to swirling his moscato once more — daring to look your brother in his eye over the rim of his crystal glass. 

“i hadn’t even noticed.” 

the rest of the actual dinner seems to go smoothly after that.

your boys tone down their bickering in favour for scaring down tiny Michelin star starters — micro herbs and all. they’re still so childish, even as they sit either side of you, picking from one another’s plates in the same way that they did back when you were kids. you find yourself relaxing as the night progresses too — maybe this isn’t so bad and things could work out between the three of you. suguru and satoru have been joined at the hip for as long as you can remember, a girl (one that they both knew), let alone suguru’s sister wouldn’t come between the bond that they had. 

by the time the main dishes are served, you have enough alcohol in your system to feel nothing but a pleasant buzz in place of the nerves that once contaminated your bloodstream. you had nothing to be worried about, everyone was getting along, laughing and smiling while your parents indulged the three of you in drunken repeats of famed moments from your childhood. 

you do your best to listen in, though the story about how suguru and satoru pulled out one of your wobbly teeth in third grade is one that you’ve heard too many times to count. it’s sweet though, that your parents are able to reminisce like this while you’re all together…especially since suguru works long hours so far from home and you’ll be off to a new city by the time the month ends. 

even just having satoru there makes the night feel complete. there’s so much love to go around. 

there would be even more love if suguru knew about how you and satoru truly felt for one another. 

you’re only sucked back into the bustling conversation when geto pinches your side — jutting his head in the direction of your mother so that you can give your attention to her next story. “oh honey!” she coos and you cringe, chugging back your latest glass of wine in order to prepare yourself for whatever embarrassment is about to come next. “do you remember when your poor brother threw his white laundry in with those cute red undies you brought — suguru was wearing pink for months!” 

the whole table bursts into obnoxious laughter, and you sink down into your seat. 

“mom! oh my god!” 

“i remember that,” your brother comments casually, gaze slinking over to his best friend in amusement. “satoru wouldn’t let me hear the end of it, told me i looked like a barbie doll. what were you even doing with underwear like that anyways.” 

“sugu, not you too!”

“now i remember the pink shirts but… the underwear? i would have loved to see the culprit.” safely says with a voice as sultry as it is silky smooth — sending a jolt of electricity down your spine until it fizzles out at your tailbone. he gets scolded by your parents (more so by mom) and earns himself a harmless glare from geto who’s been loosened up by alcohol but from you — you’re furiously humiliated. 

under the table, you lift a foot to stamp down hard on his own with your heel, but gojo is quick to react — instead dragging his foot up the length of your calf, inciting you to join him in an enticing game of footsie.

you slam your hands down on the table in surprise causing everyone to look your way before you sheepishly wave them off. “stop it, gojo.” you snarl through the cage of your gritted teeth. 

he clicks his tongue, delighted by how flustered you are. “i’m not doing anything, pretty girl,” he purrs shallowly into your ear. “c’mon now, pay attention to the story.” 

“it was a frilly little thing, far too inappropriate for someone her age.” your dad chimes in and gojo nods — lifting his foot higher and higher until you’re shuddering all over. you don’t even think to stop him. 

“mom, dad. please stop before i end it all.” you struggle to place your words in the correct order, distracted by gojo’s touch. you place your hands under your thighs, keen on controlling your squirming as they squish together ever so slightly. you just know that satoru is enjoying this and if you looked at him you’d see satisfaction evident all over his stupidly handsome face. he likes knowing how much of an effect he has on you, that it’s easy to make you writhe all for him. 

“sorry sweetheart, but they really were cute! i know you were just trying out new things. starting to act mature for your age.” 

satoru chimes in again, leaning in a little closer so that his breath just tickles the shell of your ear. “bet they looked even cuter on her.” 

squeaking in embarrassment, you kick your chair back until it screeches loudly across the floor in a weak attempt to put some distance between yourself and the man who’s practically torturing you. of course, your escape plan doesn’t work, because satoru keeps a strong grip on the bottom of your seat — dragging it forward, back under the table, and closer to him, that same hand now resting on the wooden frame beneath your locked knees. 

coughing to cut up the tension growing between the two of you, suguru cuts in. “not as cute as her diaper phase!” from there, everyone is distracted by gushing over even more embarrassing childhood memories of you as a baby. obviously, leading to some tears from your parents’ end — you’ve grown so much, come so far. it’s only natural that they’d be emotional on a night like this, one meant to celebrate your achievements.

what isn’t natural, is the fact that you’re three seconds away from jumping satoru gojo’s bones right in front of them. 

god, he drives you fucking insane. just from messing with you under expensive linen tablecloths too — his thumbs brush over your knees, your feet tangled together and if he leans over you anymore you might just turn your head and kiss him. 

you fight that urge to do so by grasping at the cool silver pendant around your neck — tapping your acrylic jelly nails against the fat sapphire gem at its centre. the jewellery feels like ice against the temperate surface of your skin, a dirty need starting to bubble and brew beneath it hotly. one that can only be satisfied by satoru gojo. 

the heat spreads to the back of your neck and under the collar of your dress, even warming the chain that hangs loosely around it. it could just be the alcohol, but you know it’s something more. it’s an itch you can’t scratch on your own and a fire you can’t put out without help. suddenly the metal of your pendent is warm to the touch and slippery between your fingers whilst you continue to play with it in newfound sweaty hands. 

a subtle gasp slips past your chocolate glossed lips when the chain snaps somewhere and the rest of the metal slides between your buttery fingers, your pendant gathers at your bosom before dropping to the floor with a clatter. feeling around your neck for your precious gift, you let out a louder whine upon realising where it’s gone. suguru spares you a moment of his attention, concern drawn against the gentle slopes of his features. 

“you okay, little one?” 

“y-yeah,” you exhale slowly, trying to calm the anxiety that fires across your neurons. “i think i um… i dropped my necklace under the table.” 

an award winning beam slots itself perfectly on your brother’s lips as he chuckles under his breath. “you’re so clumsy, need my help?”

“just keep mom and dad distracted for me? it’s just under the table, i’ll be back for their next story before anyone notices.” you attempt to joke in order to appease him, you don’t need suguru to get a closer look at how wildly turned on you are nor the fact that gojo is sitting comfortably with his hand between your knees — inches away from where you need him most, where he’s been so many times behind your brother’s back. 

not to mention the fact that you’re still fucking playing footsie.

suguru shrugs and drops the subject, tuning back into your father’s rendition of your first skatepark experience. the one where you’d tried to copy satoru and suguru and attempted a trick on your chunky bratz scooter and went flying off the ramp. ouch.

you dip beneath the table cloth like you’re diving back under the surface of water, fishing around for your lost and precious pirate’s treasure. you can’t tell if satoru’s moved his hand, you don’t feel it slyly ghosting over the insides of your thighs while you lean forward and search for your necklace… not that it should matter, it’d be far from appropriate to have his long, slender fingers brushing up against your panties from under your skirts. it wouldn’t be right for that to escalate, for said fingers to push past your entrance and brush up against the spot satoru knows is guaranteed to make you scream. it would be immoral for you to even think about him sliding his cock into your wet, needy cunt too. somewhere secret, somewhere—

oh!

you giggle with triumph when your fingertips graze the cold metal decor of your necklace… however, when you move to grab it, you touch something else. something warmer. you touch him. 

with baited breath, you let your bambi eyes carefully trail up to gojo’s face — drinking in the hazy look that he gives you, the swirl of desire taking a flame in his brilliant, cerulean eyes. just by being under his gaze you feel as though you’re drowning and burning alive all at once. satoru is the one who moves first, taking your smaller hand in his large one before he turns it over — palm facing the sky and places your sapphire pendant inside of it. 

then, one by one, he closes your fingers around your brother’s gift and then brings your closed fist up to his plush lips, pressing a wet kiss to your knuckles as you gasp. “quiet, baby. wouldn’t want anyone to know what you’re up to down here…” 

his words die off, licking his lips slowly, stare predatory while it trails all over your body. “but ‘toru,” you mewl enticingly, keeping your tones hushed under the table. the sweet, dulcet sound makes his eyes flutter shut and body quiver with a wave of hunger, his sexual appetite for you growing by a tenth fold . “i need you.” you never make this easy for him. if someone were to take a peek beneath the table cloth, they would see the tension brewing between you both and put two and two together. 

you’d be discovered before having the chance to tell everyone yourself. 

time is ticking, your guests might start to grow suspicious if you don’t make a move and goad satoru into solving the ache between your thighs. so you jump the gun, grabbing his collar and tug him forward for a sly, sloppy yet quick kiss. “i won’t say it again after this, ‘toru,” comes your cheeky pant. “i need you.”

satoru chokes.

with that, you withdraw from your scared little bubble below the table and stand straight up — a dazzling and guiltless gin on display for your entire family to see. “i’m going to the bathroom,” you explain sweetly. “need to fix my pendant ‘n powder my nose. i’ll be back.” 

your family stops chattering briefly to acknowledge your wish, but as you leave — suguru stands too and grabs your wrist. “need me to help? i know the clasp can be finicky. i should have gotten you something easier to use—“

god bless suguru, your loveable brother, ever the cockblock. 

“that’s alright man, i’ve got her covered,” satoru suddenly appears behind you, the sweltering heat of his heaving chest singeing through the fabric of your dress. he places a hand on the small of your back, grinning with a charming spark to his eyes — deliberately masking “you should keep an eye on your parents, you know how they get when they’ve had too much to drink.” 

now, it’s not that geto doesn’t trust his best friend… after all, gojo has been a constant presence in your life ever since the three of you were kids. it’s just that sometimes, a feeling of unease stirs within suguru at the mere thought of you being alone together — it’s like one of those gut feelings you get before something goes terribly wrong. 

yet, as usual, satoru is right. if no one keeps an eye on geto’s parents, who knows what trouble they’ll get into on their own. 

“alright, fine. just don’t take too long, there’s only so many stories they can tell before dessert.” suguru reminds you plainly, as if not to assume the worst. he gives you both an approving nod, before letting you go. “and satoru, wait outside for her?” 

the white haired man snickers, a languid and jeering smirk slowly tugging on the corners of his mouth. “you got it, suguru!” 

he even adds a salute for effect, allowing you to lead him away from the table and towards your gateway of sin.

the uneasy feeling in suguru’s stomach intensifies as he watches you both walk further and further away. 

they say that a mirror is the window to your soul, reflecting how you truly feel on the inside. 

the girl staring back at you in the squeaky clean glass looks nothing like the little girl suguru helped to raise. her soul is impure, blackened by sin and the dark desire for human contact — the salacious dance and ritual between scorching hot bodies and saliva tainted tongues. she laughs at you over rushing tap water from the bathroom sink and calls to you like a siren’s song, inviting you to give into her — let her take the lead on the temptations plaguing your mind. 

why did you even suggest this? 

you’d been bold, hinted to satoru that you wanted him to devour you, ruin you in the bathroom of the restaurant your loving, kind older brother had picked especially to celebrate you. you knew better than this, you wanted better than this. you no longer wanted to be just a quick fuck to satoru gojo. 

you wanted to be his girlfriend. 

that’s what you’d asked him to do tonight. to make you his in front of everyone who loved you. but here you were, slutting yourself out for him like you always do. 

over the water pouring down the drain, you pick up on the sound of knocking at the bathroom door — prompting you to twist the tap and cut off the flow of water. unlike the flow of lustful hormones that shoot through your bloodstream and straight to your clit.

a new kind of excitement blossoms in your chest once you turn around to unlock the door — suguru would hate to see you so thrilled at the concept of doing something so wrong. you return to your position in front of the bathroom sink before your lover enters, toying with the silver chain on your pendant again — ignoring the burning feeling you get as it weighs down your palm.

the burn of underlying guilt.

“i can help with that.”

satoru purrs seductively as he enters the bathroom, gesturing to your pendant. you don’t turn to look at him but keep your eyes trained in his movements in the mirror. even when he isn’t touching you, you feel like you can’t breathe. his presence overshadows your own, shrinking you down into a tiny toy that sings oh so pretty for him whenever he wants.

you hear the lock click shut behind you. anticipation hums through the air like an electric current.

“the clasp is a little tricky,” comes your dreamy sigh, high pitched and needy — earning you a choked groan from your lover. “i can’t do it on my own, not without help.”

the next time gojo speaks, he’s right behind you — chest pressed to your back, arms either side of your hips and large hands on the bathroom counter, his head practically nestled into the junction between your shoulder and your neck. wisps of snowfall like hair tickle at your bare skin while warm breath causes goosebumps to rise across its surface. 

“then let me fix it for you,” satoru suggests enticingly — keeping up this little act, pretending to be raunchy strangers, while your fingers brush against one another and he takes the jewellery from you. you straighten your back, hold your breath and nod cautiously as he brings it up to your neck from behind. your eyes catch each other’s in the mirror, his darkened with devoir all while he offers you a enthralling, toothy smirk. “relax, pretty girl. i don’t bite…”

except he does. if satoru is a hunter, a lion, then you are nothing but a sacrificial lamb that serves to be his prey. if he really wanted you, he could take your dainty neck between his vicious jaws and snap it — you wouldn’t even mind…because you’d let satoru do anything to you so long as it meant having all his focus be on you. 

“lift your chin for me.” he commands you huskily, nipping at the shell of your ear. “good girl.” satoru continues to drawl, extending the ‘o’ sound in his words when you follow his instructions obediently — tilting your head back so that he can adjust your necklace to sit perfectly in place. “such a good girl f’me.” 

when his fingers fix the clasp and touch teasingly at the nape of your neck — you find yourself instinctively pushing back against gojo’s lap, the curve of your fleshy ass sweeping over the slight tent beginning to form in his expensive designer slacks. slacks that you know you’re going to destroy before the night meets its end. 

“t-there we go,” gojo doesn’t dare step back after finishing up with your necklace, enjoying the sight of you slightly bent over the counter as you grind your hips back on him painfully slow — testing the waters. “fuck lil’ lady…what’s this all about, hm? tryna thank me for doin’ such a good job, helpin’ you out?” his hands slip over your own as they rest by the sink, lacing your fingers together while satoru puts some weight on you — looming over you as he starts to rut forward and meet you in the middle of this raunchy bump and grind. “s-shit…keep…keep throwin’ it back on me like that.”

“we don’t…we don’t have long, satoru. hah, fuck!” you sigh breathlessly, rocking back and forth on your man eagerly and clenching around nothing when his erection catches on your budding clit. satoru’s lips ascend on your neck with careful thought, using their plumpness to shift the strap of your dress to the side and reveal more of you to his greedy, deep blue eyes. they’re wet on your skin, perhaps he’s been licking them in anticipation, hot at the very tip of your cervical spine — but he can’t leave marks, not unless he wants your brother to see.

satoru trembles behind you, lazily dragging his tongue to the sweet spot just behind your ear — leaving a shimmering trail of possession across your skin. “i know baby, i know,” he says almost instantly, delayed by tasting you on his tongue. suddenly, you feel a wetness against your cunt that isn’t your own — you’re already so wet that the seat of your panties are practically glued to your fonts, but this… this is satoru. his dick dribbles pathetically with precum, gearing up to fuck. to breed. satoru grows angstier by the second, one hand letting go of yours to manhandle you back onto his stiff hard on, his breath much heavier against you than before. “but it feels so good doesn’t it? just wanna keep…my cock…nestled against you like this.” 

pride flutters through all four chambers of your heart simply because you know that you’re the only one who can get satoru gojo to act like such a slut. he’s so desperate for your pussy it doesn’t even matter how he takes it, just as long as it’s his. 

only you get to reduce gojo to a needy mess, soft pink fanning across his nose and cheeks as he humps you from behind like a wet, mangy dog in rut. he circles his hips, pushing them forward so that his throbbing length meets your sticky, fat panty clad folds in a constant motion — his needy moans like music to your ears. 

“i wanna fuck you,” you huff impatiently, using your strength to push gojo away from you just long enough to turn around. he follows your lead, hiking you up to sit on the bathroom counter before you wrap your legs around his tiny waist and squeeze him close. “gonna fuck me, ‘toru? or do i have to — fuck…do it myself.”

now that you’re facing each other, you can see just how wrecked the man is. his eyelids grow heavy, long and lavish white lashes weighed down by mirth. gojo pants, his tongue doused with spit lolled over his bottom lip with a hankering urge to kiss you. “jeez,” he simpers in awe, impressed with how controlling you’re being this time around — squeezing your hips to control the flow of you grinding back and forth on him. “at least kiss a guy first.” 

grinning, your fingers surge upwards from the counter and into the depths of white rooted hair. you tug gojo down to meet you halfway and before he can even register it — your lips are roughly slotted together, bruisingly close and your tongue laps tracks into the hot cavern of his mouth. the kiss quickly turns sloppy, needy, spit is easily exchanged between synchronised moving lips while your noses become neighbours and your lungs burn from how desperately they need oxygen.

you don’t want it, you think. you don’t need it, you say to yourself — hardly pulling away from gojo as you both suck in a much needed breath. you’re back on one another in a heartbeat, drowning in one another while his practised hands traverse up the curves and dips of your body. they settle at your throat, a thumb gently pushing against its centre just to test you. a dark chuckle reverberates in satoru’s chest when you whine, back arching up to meet him and your eyes growing misty.

“how’s that for a kiss?” you whine against his wet mouth, yanking at gojo’s roots again. the action earns you a grunt in response — blissful, low and predatory. his hips jump up too, tucking his swelling cock into the snug pocket of your puffy folds.

“think i want another,” he muses out loud, the chocolaty octaves of satoru’s voice making you shudder — liquid gold beginning to gather between your ravaged pussy lips. using his grip on your throat, the silver haired man pulls you closer — his perfect white teeth sinking into the delicious swell of your bottom lip before he tugs it away from you salaciously. it’s barely enough to quell the spark of hunger spreading throughout all four limbs of his body, hardly calming down the blood that rushes to his achingly hard dick as he rubs it against your increasingly soaked mound.

when your lips find each other again, they’re swollen, cherry red and raw — smacking against one another loudly over the sound of rustling clothes while you buck into one another. everything is so hot and heavy, you’re so wet and so sticky for satoru and your little rendezvous has barely begun. the way he sucks on your tongue, let’s you push it down his throat while his clothed seedy tip nudges your clit over and over again has you bouncing off the walls in your mind. you can’t think without thinking of all the ways to fuck satoru gojo. 

he’s on your mind all the time and you’re not sure if you want that to change. 

“can…oh man—can feel how wet you are through your fuckin’ clothes…” satoru hums in astonishment, releasing you from the prison of his lip lock with pretty pink swollen lips, allowing his head to drop to your shoulder in favour for sucking on it to pacify himself. he keeps his tip on your pleasure bud, revelling in the way you keenly pulse at the sensation. “oh fuck…so sticky.”  

your pussy flutters at his observation, even more so with how cute satoru sounds when he’s so needy for you. “satoru…” you mewl, stroking back tufts of his sweaty pale hair — though it hardly distracts him from feverishly fucking you over layers of fabric. “wanna suck you off, gojo. can i? wanna have you in my mouth.” 

satoru pauses, his breathing uneven and pulls away from his safe spot in your neck. “fuck…really? now?” 

you nod, tiny hands forcing their way between your heated bodies to toy with his belt, unbuckling it with practised ease. “right now.” 

“okay…fuck, okay.” satoru steps back and uses a grip on your hips to help you down onto your feet, watching with pride as you slowly descend to your knees in front of him. “oh baby. you’re so dirty. such a dirty little girl, mmm?” he grins, a little twisted. “show me how pretty you look on your knees for me.” 

you sit back on your haunches as satoru adjusts himself to lean back on the counter — looking up at him with sweet shiny eyes which occasionally shoot down to his throbbing hard cock as he manspreads in place. the sight makes your mouth water and 

“you’re staring, baby. go ahead and open your present.” he tilts his head with an air of condescension about him — teasing and taunting you through a faux pout, making you simper out for satoru. “come on now, what happened to my brave little girl? you wanted to suck me off so bad, where’s all that big talk now, huh?” satoru continues to leer down at you, his eyes darkening malignantly — the sapphire shine within them dimming with a raging storm cloud as if to block out the sun. “open that cute little mouth, lemme see it. don’t disappoint.” he cups your cheek, entire body bristling with joy and underlying pleasure when you keen into satoru’s touch like a good girl.

obediently, your lips part and mouth falls open — revealing ropes of saliva that tie your tongue to the roof of your mouth. it does something to satoru, it’s like a power trip to have you on your knees for him. you’ve got love in your eyes taking the form of heart-shaped pupils, as you admire him like he’s your god. and you want that god’s cock stuffed into your waiting, drooling mouth. 

you shouldn’t adore satoru, treat him as if he’s your lifeline. he’s the whole reason your family might fall apart, he keeps you hidden as if you’re a treasure only he is worthy of seeing. he doesn’t show you off, he chooses to use you for his own gain, he chooses you when there’s no one else left to turn to. your relationship with satoru has never been stable, but even now when he’s hanging above you — rosy cheeked and starry eyed about to fuck you in some bathroom, you still want him. you still love him. 

“don’t get lost in that pretty little head of yours baby,” gojo leans forward and brushes his thumb under the well of your wet lips and over your Cupid’s bow — smudging what's left of your gloss. “‘m gonna need you to think for a little while. only ‘bout me ‘n my cock. yeah?” his free hand that once had been abandoned on the countertop takes yours — guiding it over the bulge in his crisp dress pants, hissing when you start to rub at it on your own, your mouth still wide open for him. “you’re so pretty. feel that? you make me so hard that it hurts.”

you find yourself dazed and enchanted — panting, chest heaving as your hunger for him grows. “feel it, want you, ‘toru.” satoru thinks you’re so cute, cupcake dress poofing up against the cold floor as your tiny hand paws at him back and forth, back and forth and the little smile you give him when he pulsates beneath your talented little fingertips would be nearly enough to make him explode. 

“of course you do, baby. you want your reward.” gojo relents, giving in to you. he swoops down to give you one last kiss, barely ghosting his lips over your swollen ones to keep you on the edge — craving just a little bit more. he dangles the static pleasure of a kiss that you get over your brain in front of you like a carrot in front of a horse. he knows that if he keeps you that way, you’ll stay desperately in love with him, malleable into the perfect girl for him. 

it’s selfish and both of you know that.

you rub harder and harder at the outline of satoru’s shaft and scoot closer to rest your chubby cheek on his firm thigh. he sees the way your own squeeze together from under your dress, probably in an attempt to keep your arousal at bay while your hole slicks itself up — but he can smell you, sweet and potent like a flower in bloom. if he were to pull you up to his height and take you now, satoru is sure your panties would be soiled, ass cheeks and pussy lips coated in a layer of your opaque, honey-like arousal while it oozes directly from you.

that’s just how you are, a candied little mess for satoru gojo. it’s almost a fact and the very notion should be humiliating for you, should be shameful to you. if your brother were to ever find out how weak your resolve is when it comes to satoru, how you fall to your knees so easily for him  — then you might never be able to look him in the eye again. 

but isn’t that what you want? 

to have suguru know just how badly you’d fallen for his best friend? 

how you might fail to live without him? 

all night all you’ve been thinking about is satoru telling your brother the truth — but here you are, locked in a bathroom ready to worship this man while you hide from your entire family. from reality. 

because you’re happiest in this bubble with gojo and you’re sure he is too — he can have you in all the ways he’s ever wanted and you’d let him do it all to you too. yet again, you remain entirely unaware that from gojo’s point of view, you’re more than a pretty girl about to suck his pretty cock. you’re everything to him.

“come on baby, stop playin’ with me. baby please.” satoru whines petulantly into the sex tainted air that fizzles with suspense. his skin buzzes with every touch you give and a wicked chuckle resonates deep within his chest when you scoot closer on your knees — dragging the tip of your tongue over his dick print hesitantly. though the sound is cut short when you give his hard-on a tentative squeeze to text the waters, opaque and runny white smearing against the inside of satoru’s underwear. 

you adore how much he trembles, gripping your shoulder to steady himself since knows that you don’t like the idea of your head being pushed down on. even if it’s torture for him to be so patient — he’d never do anything you didn’t like. 

but it really is killing him, and you’re fully aware. he deserves to be punished like this, after everything he’s put you through — it doesn’t mean you’re not suffering yourself. circling your hips into the cold bathroom floor to get some friction yourself, beyond turned on at the sight of a breathless satoru gojo above you. 

“say that again.” you moan.

gojo’s head drops and he lets out a shaky breath as if he’s about to cry. “w-what?” 

“beg me again, then i’ll suck your cock.” you sneer up at your silver haired lover evilly just as your mouth meets his sticky clothed cockhead, the spit and heat from your mouth seeping through the layers of fabric in your way. “i wanna hear you moan for me, ‘toru. like you love me.” you press, switching to taking the man’s zipper between the rows of your teeth. 

satoru gojo has never been a stickler for the rules, whatever he does is usually for his own personal gain…but when you command him like that, he can’t help but to blindly stumble after you, hanging onto your every sugar-coated word. “fucking hell, please baby. need to feel your mouth on me…fuck, your tongue,” gojo rambles on weakly. “please, please, want it so bad i might fucking die.” he does some of the work for you, shedding his belt and causing it’s buckle to clink satisfyingly against your ears. 

satoru’s eagerness sends a shockwave of pleasure straight to your clit. your patience seems to be wearing thinner than his, for you jump forward like a cat on the prowl and peel back the remaining layers of satoru’s clothes without mercy for any of the fabrics. his gasps and muttered pleas coax you into the dark, addictive enigma that is satoru gojo — clouding your mind whilst setting your body on fire with hell flames.

you kiss at satoru’s slender hips the more his pants and boxers come down, twirling your tongue into the tufts of silver hair that form his happy trail too. a soft, honeysuckle chuckle from you resounds in the bathroom’s echoing chamber when you finally reveal enough of gojo’s cock for it to spring free — twitching as it’s exposed to fresh air. satoru is longer where he might lack thickness, though he’s chubby enough to keep you plugged full of his cum usually. his balls are plump and pink, heavy with a load that’s just waiting to be spent on you — evidence of his arousal taking the form of opaque pearls set at the tip of his dick.

speaking of, gojo’s cockhead burns bright red and shines as if it’s glossed and sticky like your lips — blue pulsating veins spiral around his flushed shaft, rivalling the shade of his eyes as he observes your next moves. you’re sure to make your touch tender as you take his entire length between your fingers, smoothing the supple pad of your thumb over his sensitive tip and rubbing the precum into it sweetly.

he smells so good, the musky scent of satoru’s cock and his arousal act like the fumes of a drug you know all too well — it takes over your consciousness and stream of thought, controlling your actions from then on. you feel everything all at once, your tongue writhing in place at the bottom of your mouth, satoru’s thighs trembling lightly and his cock throbbing while blood rushes through it. a haughty moan scratches at the ridges in his throat when you finally grip him properly — soft little hands dwarfed by his sheer length, palm brushing over the flushed forked veins that separate at the base. “j-jesus, beautiful,” satoru hisses, lips between his sharp white teeth. “you gotta give a little…drivin’ me insane with these little touches. please just suck it…please i’m beggin’ you—“ 

the air in his lungs grows thin like that at the peak of a mountain when you finally give in, dragging your lips over the cream gathering at his mushroomed cockhead before kitten-licking through its seedy slit in order to tease him a little more. opening up your mouth, you prepare to swallow satoru down, just as you have done many times before. you know everything he likes, what makes him tick, what has him cumming in seconds…however, just as your warm breath coasts along his shaft — he pulls back from your hold. 

“wait,” he says through a shudder. “you wanna smoke?” satoru pulls a joint from his crumpled pocket, licking his lips as he searches for its partner in crime — a lighter.

you frown, choosing to palm him instead of taking him into your mouth just yet. his cock jumps at the simple movement, leaking milky white against your knuckles, tainting your skin. “we’ll get into trouble, ‘toru.” you state like it’s obvious, speaking over the slick sound of your hand gently pumping satoru. your movements are aided by just how wet his cock is, fingers slipping and sliding up and down his girth whilst being guided by the thick globs of precum beading at his tip.

“s-since when did you care about the rules? you’re fucking me here, aren’t you?” his breathing falters as he shakily attempts to set the end of his joint alight. you don’t dare stop pleasuring your brother's best friend, even if there’s a nagging voice at the back of your head telling you that this is bad, that it’s all too much. “help me out for a sec, beautiful? hold this in your mouth while i light it.” satoru’s voice drops an octave as he shoves the splif between your arousal glossed lips (replacing the fenty that once spread their shine across them)  — he stares you down through his long, white lashes as he flicks the lighter at the end, setting fire to the rizzler. “thank you, little one.” 

the pet name makes your skin crawl and the weed in your mouth only amplifies that voice in your head. you should quit while you still can, you might be able to cope with the withdrawals then, and spend the rest of your life making it up to suguru for leading him astray. little one. the nickname he’d so fondly called you quickly becomes something you hate. it’s meaning changed easily by none other than satoru gojo. 

his power over you is still so strong despite his cock being at the mercy of your feather light grip and plush lips. once you set a steady rhythm to jerking gojo off and the joint burns dangerously close to your nose, he takes it from you and lovingly pats your cheek — placing it between his own lips before blowing a ring of smoke into the humid air.

satoru’s head collapses back against the mirror, his moonshine hair perfectly tousled despite being out of place. his locks stick to the icy surface of the glass, brought on by the cold sweat from your temperate mouth. the pair of you share a harmonious tune of wet whimpers and gargled gripes when you take your lover down your throat, sinking down on him until your nose nudges the prickliness of his happy trail. 

you flex your tongue, letting it swirl around satoru’s girth from the base to the tip. “o-oh fuck, baby!” he exclaims through a hybrid sound, a cross mix between a raspy chuckle and high pitched moan. shakily; satoru takes a puff of his joint as if to calm himself down. he looks down at you with a lustful, love laden gaze, dropping a hand to the top of your head — careful not to push on it as you work your mouth down on him. “don’t worry… ‘m not gonna fuck your mouth. know you don’t like that, just wanna…touch you.” it nearly kills him as well, the way you look up, with shiny eyes and full cheeks. “god, you take it so well, huh?”

of course, satoru had been the one to teach you how to suck dick back when you first started messing around two years ago. he’d coaxed you through it, teaching you step by step so you could get him off just how he liked. he made it so that you wouldn’t ever want to please a man the same way you pleased him — rewiring all the nerves in your brain to make sure it was only gojo that you wanted to deep throat. 

so you nod diligently in reply, swallowing down on gojo and letting out a gentle hum that causes dopamine to crackle along the insides of his skull.  hollowing your cheeks, your throat contracts around his thick length until you feel his bulbous tip dragging over your uvula — testing your own talented mouth. he’s so glad that he taught you how to do that, you down on your knees, entrapping him in the searing heat of your hellfire mouth. if suguru could see you now, he’d only be able to picture the spawn of the devil and it’s cruel how you don’t even care. after everything he’s done for you. 

your eyes flutter shut at the heaviness of satoru’s dick on your tongue, forcing you to taste the viscous precum that oozes down your throat in slow waves. the flavour is just as addictive as the scent of weed tangling with sex in the air — you don’t see yourself going to rehab either. 

eventually, you decide to pull off of satoru with a lewd pop, filling your lungs with the oxygen they so dearly missed. you find yourself light headed for deep-throating him for that long but you also find it to be completely worth it — especially because of the look of pride satoru gives you. “such a pretty little cockslut,” he sucks his teeth, petting your head and brushing his hand over the square partings of your braids. “you look so happy sucking on my cock, baby. didn’t think you were gonna come up for air.”

in place of your mouth, your palm starts to stroke satoru at a steady pace — slickening up the centre of your hand. he’s so big between your hands you can only imagine how he’ll feel stretching you out later tonight, causing drool to pool in your mouth like a hot flash flood as you catch your breath. vivid azure eyes flutter at the salacious mix of pain and pleasure when you give satoru’s shaft a teasing squeeze, using your other hand to give the same treatment to his plump, sore balls.

somehow, he manages to continue on muttering taunting you. “cause i’m the only thing you need, right? who needs air to breathe when you have me feeding my cock into that hot, wet open mouth.” he drags a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down as he looms over you — breathing a cloud of cannabis smoke into you. shot-gunning you while you continue to jerk him off, it tastes of him and the alcohol in his breath and the weed on his tongue. he looks so good above you like this, hooded eyes and rose tinted cheeks. satoru is the perfect picture of god’s work and you’d be foolish to pretend that the sight of him didn’t make your cunt throb and a familiar feeling begin to stem in the pit of your stomach. “good fucking girl.”

he thrusts shallowly through your closed fist matching his rhythm to the tune in which you flick your wrist. you waste no time in working up a pace fast enough to have your lover melting like putty in your hands — literally. you miss his cock in your mouth, how heavy it makes your tongue feel and paw at his spit slicked erection like a puppy begging for treats. 

“when you t-touch me like that…” satoru drawls, notes of praise layered over his whiny voice makes your own juices gather at the crotch of your panties, makes your head spin but that might just be the weed. “i could fucking cum, baby.”

sweat beads in large, fat droplets at gojo’s hairline, darkening the bright colour of his hair. the liquid soaks through his white shirt too, showcasing how fucked out he truly is. he thrusts again, and again, and again, chasing the high your hand gives his creamy aching cock. “then let me make you cum,” you giggle, dropping your head slightly to make out with the sloppy tip of satoru’s dick, lapping happily at whatever he gives you. “let me taste you.” 

a dirty laugh rings in the buzzing air and gojo throws the burly arm that holds his joint over his wet face, wiping it clean of all the sweat. in the next moment, he cups the youthful roundness to your pretty face — calloused fingertips digging into your baby fat cheeks and sun-kissed skin. “that’s cute, but i’m not quite done with you yet, gorgeous.” still hunched over you, gojo finds the milky trail his cock has left over the seam of your lips and kisses you — dangerously slow. he simpers at the taste of himself on your lips, tangling with the plastic-like taste from the remainders of your gloss. he licks the sweat from your Cupid’s bow as well. 

he sucks the precum from your tongue and licks harsh stripes into your mouth — reaching further back to cup the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him. the both of you moan like idiots into one another’s mouths, drinking down the song of blissful laments and greedy gripes. the kiss seems to last forever, going on and on until you wince at the slight burn of satoru’s joint against your cheek, but you never stop jerking him off — slick and dewy sounds of skin meeting skin providing the adlibs to your nasty, sex song. 

only then does satoru let you go, though, his hips continue to dart forward and ram into your closed fist — they contradict with his words. while gojo wants so much more, they chase his innate desire to cum. paint your pretty face or your talented tongue. their rhythm is assaulting and aberrant. 

“but you’re so close…” you tempt him with your silky voice, dipping your head and bobbing it once more to encompass his lengthy girth into your heated mouth again. dopamine sparks like explosions across the synapses in his brain when he witnesses your cheek bulge from the force of taking his tip in, his slit rubbing deliciously against the soft epithelium there. gojo doesn’t know how he’ll survive after tonight, when you force him to confess to your family and everything blows up in his face. 

oh how he’ll miss your cute little mouth sucking down his cock like your life depends on it.

“you’re right, shit…you’re right, princess,” satoru pants avidly, taking another drag of the joint nestled between his shaky fingers — he throws his head back as the grey smoke hits the fresh hair, tainting it with the scents and flavours from the kiss he’d given to your sinful mouth. “i think i might…ohhhh ohhh. i really wanna—“ he throws his head back and you can tell that your lover is really trying to stave off his orgasm to make this last forever. 

you still in surprise when he jams a boot between your soaked thighs from underneath your dress. “‘toru!” comes your little gasp, grinding down on the cold leather if his shoe instinctively. he used the toe of his chelsea boot to pull back the hood of your clit, pressing down on the swollen bud to stimulate you. w-what are you doing?”

“g-gotta make you cum before i do,” he offers as a weak explanation all while spreading your puffy pussy lips apart. 

you lavishly run your tongue through the opening of satoru’s cockhead, moaning at the taste and texture but continuing to hump his foot happily. “s’a bit late for that, baby.” you say with a sultry voice, low and sexy. “you can just eat me out afterwards.” 

“do we even…? o-oh, okay. ‘m there… i-i’m close,” he trips and stumbles through his words, losing control of his taut hips that batter your poor, dripping fist while you spit down onto him. the frothy mix slides down and catches on the prominent veins spiralling around his dick to the base. which you give a squeeze. “do we even have time for that?” gojo asks, struggling to breathe through the smoke from his joint.

“i guess you’ll just have to hurry up ‘n cum for me. be quick, and we’ll see.” you glance up at him, so debauched yet so innocent. like a pretty flower tended to and cared for (by suguru) except you have prickly, threatening thorns. 

gojo’s release starts to sneak up on him, senses heightened by the recreational drug coursing through the healthy blood in his veins. “y-you’re so bad. h-how the fuck did i get involved with you?” he laughs loud and menacingly, whilst looking completely and utterly deranged. gojo doesn’t let up on stimulating your pussy, humming around the spliff tucked between his perfect lips when you gush in response to him. dirty, depraved little girl. “g’na cum. g’na cum! let me cum. fuck, where do you want it?” 

“i can swallow, satoru. give it to me.” your mouth and wrist begin to hurt — but you find it all worth it to have satoru collapse above you, lose to the snap of the thin thread of his sanity. he grabs ahold of his own dick, taking over from you, and smiles brilliantly when you stick out your tongue just for him. it rolls over your pretty lower lip, cherry red from your ministrations and slightly swollen from it all. 

one. two. three. 

he taps his soiled cockhead against the slobbery palette of your tongue — feeding you the last stream of his precum right before his big release. you press a hand to gojo’s tummy, feeling it fight and contact against your touch. he can’t hold back anymore, everything is too hot and too tight and too much. the roll up of weed between his teeth is gone, his beautiful eyes are hidden away from the world and before either of you know it — his high is hitting him like a tonne of bricks. 

just like that, gojo loses the steady stream of his hips and his orgasm rips through him, warm and viscous seed floods your mouth — even seeping out at the corner of your bruised lips. it spurts copiously from his ravaged cock, painting your throat a shade of white too. 

“h-holy shit!” satoru cries out loudly, tears springing to his eyes and gathering in his lashes. you don’t stop pumping at his dick until he’s done cumming, catching any misfires of his arousal with your tongue. you swallow in satisfaction and take to leaving small kisses against his tummy and hip bones until he stops trembling and returns to earth from the bright, silver moon that blessed his hair. 

he quickly abandons his joint.

even though his legs are shaky and he can hardly breathe, static ringing loudly in his ears — satoru finds the strength within himself to pick you up from the floor and manhandles you against the bathroom door. a streak of excitement courses through you while you set your palms flat on the surface, allowing satoru to squish your left cheek against it too. 

you’re barely able to turn your head back to look at him, a shy and coy smile spreading across your lips when you catch a glimpse of the dark expression coasting over satoru’s handsome features. “oh? what’s gotten into you?”

“you think i’m just gonna let you make me cum like that, and i’m not gonna get you off?” he answers your question with a question, growling out the syllables of each word impatiently. “i wish i could just rip this damn dress off’a you. it’s such a shame we have to go out there and say hi to your family afterwards.” using his foot, gojo kicks your ankles apart so that you’re nice and spread open for him — he inhales nastily while pushing your skirts up to sit at your hips, breathing in the scent of your gooey cunt as it cries for him. cries to be filled up by him. if asked, he could recognise the sweet aroma from your sex like a bloodhound chasing after a target. he’s got you committed to memory, he loves you that much.

the tulle of your dress rivals the colour of his eyes even when darkened with debauchery — it turns him on to know you wear his colour so proudly even in front of suguru. his hands shake as he messes with the fabric and you can just tell he’s fighting off the urge to tear it away from your body. if only you had the time. if only you were the only two people in the world. 

without suguru, he could love up on you for hours with no issues. without suguru, you could perhaps be together without having to hide. without suguru — well, you hate yourself for even thinking that way. he’s your brother… and you need him. but clearly not as much as you need satoru to fill you up with something — tongue, fingers, cock. you’d take it all right now. take all of him. 

you’re distracted by the feel of your lover’s searing lips against your naked shoulders, swooping down to place kisses on them tenderly. they’re more fluid, softer as satoru’s fingertips trickle over your breasts and pinch your pebbling nipples from over the bust of your dress. they cascade down to your waist next and suddenly your dress feels all too tight around your hips. your panties too sticky between your folds. you want them both off, and fast. 

“s-satoru,” you murmur needily, arching your back into his broad chest — shivering at the roughness of his shirt on your skin. “satoru, please.” you add, hissing when his curious fingers delve beneath your skirts to press into the seam of your underwear, getting a feel for your wetness and how ready you are for him.

he shifts his fingers upwards, working them up to massage your clit in warm and rough circles — distracting you from giving gojo a proper answer so he can play with you a little more. “hmm?” comes gojo’s lazy reply. his head drops to your neck again and his tongue leaves a snails trail of saliva over the path of kisses he’s left on your skin “what’s the matter, baby? what do you need?” he mumbles in a lower octave right into your ear, tufts of white hair tickle your skin, only causing goosebumps to rise across it in a ripple effect.  

pouting, your hips rise enough for him to possibly stick his hands down your panties to touch you properly — but satoru chooses to be mean, moving up to rub your tummy teasingly. “for you to… mph, please.” 

“come on now little one. what is it that you’re after?” he scolds you playfully, toying with the little ribbon on the scalloped edge of your panties. you hate that him teasing you only serves to make you hush and turn you on more, a small trickle of your arousal running down your inner thigh. “use your words, be my good little girl,” pinging your waistband against your stomach, satoru adds to the seed of desire growing there — helping it to grow and nurturing it. “my fingers? my tongue?” 

“t-tongue!” you squeal at the painful sting, not in pain — because you like it when gojo hurts you a little bit. it’s like a punishment for betraying your older brother. 

“thank you for telling me, baby, your wish is my command.” at first, satoru doesn’t make a move to eat you out — instead, forces his hand deep into your panties to touch your clit, nice and raw. the silver haired man grins at the way you clench around nothing as he circles your tight little entrance and squirt small dribbles of your juices for him. “fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me, even now. even after sucking my cock and grinding on my shoe. if only suguru could see how nasty you are right now.” he could, at any moment geto could knock on that door and see you dripping on his best friend’s hand. the sentiment shouldn’t make you more aroused, you should make you feel horrified. 

but as gojo dips a finger into your greedy little pussy, you realise that you’re just as depraved as him and that in the moment — you really don’t care. 

because all you feel is ecstasy. 

pushing back onto the sole finger squirming about against your squishy insides, you decide that you’ll deal with geto and the consequences of fucking his best friend later — rather, choosing to focus on how satoru immediately finds your g-spot because he knows your gummy, rippling walls like the backs of his masterful hands. the same hands and digits that skilfully trace the letters of his name into your pulsating clit.

“mmph… oh fuck. f-fuck you!” reaching between your soiled thighs and underneath a plethora of tulle, you grip gojo’s wrist to keep him in place, locked between your legs with his fingers stuffed in your cunt.

“fuck me, baby?” he coos to you in a patronising tone. “oh, sweetheart. i’m about to fuck you. gonna make you cum so hard. make you see stars…no, galaxies.” satoru pulls his finger out and nudges your sticky thighs apart again just to make sure that he has the space, enough room to cup the entirety of your sopping mound from over the fabric. so hot and filthy and sappy for him. satoru laments in satisfaction, yanking your panties down in one fail swoop and watching with perverted cobalt eyes as strings of your slick tie your honeyed sex to the material. 

sniffling, you turn your head back as far as it’ll go to stare down your boyfriend with big, wet eyes and a blubbering voice. “please... i can’t wait anymore…” you hiccup like a petulant child who had their favourite toy stolen. pleading for something, anything to alleviate the unbearable yearning twisting in your gut.

your lover tsks in response, slowly descending to his knees behind you while his fingers coated in your succulent nectar grasp and knead at your fleshy ass — streaking it with clear marks. “okay, okay…poor baby.” gojo says airly in an attempt to console you like a mother would her crying infant. “you’re so needy, pretty girl. if anyone walking by could hear you, they’d think i weren’t fucking you right.” that’s far from true and the both of you know it, satoru is the only one who could appease you, take care of all your sexual needs — outside of that…you’re not so sure. you’re then reminded that suguru wouldn’t want satoru taking care of you ever. it makes your stomach flip with a confusing mix of lust and guilt. 

“you want it that bad, don’t ya? you wanna feel good.” the man purrs from behind you, salacious voice a breath’s width away from your cunt while he licks a trail up your inner thigh. the vibrations reverberate through your skin, dancing right up to your swollen, unattended clit. “promise i’ll make you feel so, so good.” you’re almost embarrassed at how much you throb against gojo’s lips when he shoves his face into your pussy from behind, nudging his nose over your pleasure bud in circles until you open up for him like a flower in bloom. 

you grind back against him passionately, rubbing your luscious and drenched folds all over his handsome face in an attempt to tame the itch of bliss that spreads through each and every one of your limbs. you’re tempting him but your sweet little whimpers and circling hips hardly coax satoru away from what he’s planning. his tongue doesn’t fuck it’s way past your quivering entrance like he’d said, but instead is replaced by a heavy hand smacking down hard on your pussy. 

“satoru!” you cry out in an awful mix of delight and shock, sounding a little unhinged. “y-you promised!”

“yeah, yeah. i know… couldn’t help it. i just love it when you cry for me.” juices run down his forearm as if he’s bitten into a ripened peach and satoru gets the perfect view of your juicy ass jiggling for him too. he amorously slurps up the trail, leaning forward with an appetite to eat you out for real this time and nestled his tongue between your twitching, titillating folds. 

he repeats the process again and again and again, smacking your poor pussy until you really are crying — chest heaving while you sob from both ends, tears ruining your perfect baby blue eyeshadow for the night. not having gojo’s mouth on you is like hell on earth, being spanked until you’re raw is torture too, especially when you’ve been holding back an orgasm for at least fifteen minutes. nevertheless, it all feels so fucking heavenly. 

you search for a vice, something you can ground yourself with and settle for scraping your nails along the doors. satoru chuckles, tapping your sticky ass lovingly and even going as far as to kiss you there. “alright, i’ve had my fun and i’m done messing with you baby,” he hums sweetly, “lean back for me, put it on me baby. let your man eat you out.” 

wrapping a strong arm around your middle, gojo pulls you back onto his awaiting, eager mouth. the first thing he does is slot his mouth against the entirety of your soaked slit, moaning loud and tugging at your heartstrings while the vibrations send you spiralling. the very tip of his tongue slips past your entrance with slight resistance from how thick it is, wriggling about in order to search for that special spot that makes you see stars. he press kisses, wet and sloppy, miscalculated, between your swollen folds and slurps up whatever you leak as if you’re drooling valuable liquid gold. 

not a drop can be or will be wasted on satoru gojo. 

keenly, your hips canter back onto gojo’s face — your plush ass cheeks jiggle with each thrust onto his tongue as though you’re reverse riding his cock. it fills you up just as nice too, warm and slippery against ecstasy inducing pinpoints along the ridges of your sluice walls. he can’t help but whine loudly at every roll of your pussy over his face, you taste so fucking good and he’ll drink you in as though you’re a tall glass of water. between sucks and slurps, your lover kitten licks at your core animalistically — lascivious sounds from between your thighs topping off the air in the bathroom.

your cute little clit, prominent and hard because of blood rush and it’s burning desire, is next on satoru’s bucket list. the sharpness of his teeth latch onto it, rolling it between their two sets roughly until you’re clawing at your own throat for air — trying your hardest not to scream and frighten the poor passers by. you’ve become such a mess and it pleases the white haired man, to see you gushing like a fruitful stream straight into his thirsty mouth, down his chin and cheeks — even over his bobbing adam’s apple.

your hands leave a track of sweat as they slip down the door you’re plastered on and your chest rises and falls rapidly while you’re tongue fucked by your boyfriend. there’s no room to breathe or to cope, satoru’s tongue pinned to your clit like a moth to candle flame — drawing rough shapes on your clit before sweeping downwards just beneath your clenching hole to catch what oozes from it before it can hit the ground. oh, if only you could see him, his bright blue eyes just as watery and lovesick as your own and his face pink with a sun-burn type of blush from how hot he is for you.

if you tried hard enough, to listen in over the sounds of your wet pussy being sucked on for dear life as well as satoru’s content gripes and laments — you can just about make out the vehement and delectable noises of him avariciously jerking off his pre-cum flowing cock while he prepares it to fuck you later on.

“y-yeah…oh my god, satoru. satoru don’t stop!” the words feel tacky in your mouth as you try to get them out, communicate to gojo how good he makes you feel. he likes it when you’re vocal with him, and you the same, it makes you both feel heard and happy to know that you’re pleasing your partner. though, it’s a little difficult for you, when you’re so dizzy you don’t know what’s up or down  and you can’t help but to cream around the base of gojo’s tongue while it twists against your lush and gushy inner walls.  

briefly, your brother’s best friend pulls away from your cunt — remaining connected to you by a rope of clear elixir leaked from your tight hole. “wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl. god… i just wanna fuck you up. make you scream a little more…” he snarls like a beast, his big hands roughly grabbing your ass as he spreads them — watching the webs of arousal form while he peels each cheek away from one another. “fucking hell… you’re drenched. but we can’t be too loud, don’t want someone to hear.” there’s a higher pitched lilt to gojo’s sacchariferous mithers as he delves back under your skirts, bobbing his entire head to drag his tongue between your fat pussy folds. 

jolting at the sensation, which provides a welcome distraction from the fact that your family…your brother, are waiting obviously just metres away, your hips begin to chase the high you’ve been holding back for what seems like hours now. viciously, you ride satoru’s tongue like it’s a perfectly plump cock made to plug you full. “uhuh, oh…fuck yeah. ride it for me, pretty girl, ride my t-tongue. m-make yourself feel good. fuck my face…please, please, please.” gojo begs you, even though most of his speech is muffled and you’re the one at his mercy. 

shame should be running through you, not hunger for gojo, you shouldn’t want to drive your hips down onto his face so hard that his nose prods your clit over and over again. you’re so dirty, filthy and nasty for doing this…here of all places. but you can’t help the way gojo fucks you nor the way gojo feels. you don’t think you want to give that up for your brother. even if it costs you.

you can’t imagine a life without hearing satoru’s needy groans between your legs, the ones that set fireworks off at your tailbone — where all of that unreleased pleasure builds up. 

“you’re gonna cum…” he sighs dreamily. “want you to cum for me. let it go, let it all out f’me.” gojo adds and from then on — his mouth stays married to your needy cunt, focused on working you right to the edge and pushing you over. he licks you up and down, anchors you to his face with that same arm snaking its way around your waist again — mostly to hold you up because you’re so shaky from the ecstasy in your veins that you can’t do it on your own.  

the whole ordeal is sickening and beautiful all at the same time — no one knows your body like satoru does. no other man has any idea how to please you in the way that he does. they don’t know that you like it when he flicks his tongue against your sluice and sweet sex with an open mouth just so you can hear him eat you out. they have no idea about how sensitive you are when you’re close, that brushing up against your g-spot with the tip of gojo’s tongue is enough to have you spewing a fresh wave of your essence from your pathetic hole.

the delirium and rapture that mounts within you, like bricks stacked in bricks, becomes too much for you to bear — some of your release already starting to trickle out of you in clear streams. “‘m cumming, ‘toru!” you warn him in a high pitched squeal before it’s too late, white noise filling your ears as you succumb to a powerful orgasm. 

satoru gojo thinks that if he died right here, right now, he would be happy — he wouldn’t even care. what, with the way you gush into his mouth like tidal waves of a wild tsunami, guilt flushed out of your system by tonnes of arousal. you clamp down on his tongue and practically suffocate the man, humping weakly at gojo’s face until your entire body is limp and you have absolutely nothing left to give. 

once you’ve made it through the aftershocks of your high, satoru slowly retreats from between your thighs and makes his way to your body, spinning you around and capturing your lips in a delicately placed kiss before your brain has the sense to wake up. the night should end here, you should push him away and fix yourself up in a good enough state to return to suguru and the rest of your family to enjoy dinner…stop the guilt from bubbling up. 

but satoru has always had a way about charming you. 

“we’re not finished yet…” he whispers to you passionately, his own hips pinning you to the bathroom door so you can feel his second erection rub against your tummy. “there’s more of you to ruin.” he continued to lament, his lips stained with your arousal grazing your own before he licks into your mouth so you can taste what he tastes too. automatically, your body bows into his — ready to have what he’s got waiting for you. 

perhaps your mind is still lagging, because you feel it before you see it — the tacky love taps of your lover’s cock against your stimulated sex, the lewd squelch that comes from gojo’s cockhead poised and ready to jut forward past your fluttering entrance. “i want you so fucking badly, i gotta… need to be inside you…” he moves to hike your thigh up against his slender hips — preparing to bottom out inside of you, but you stop him just before then with your nails digging into his sweat laden dress shirt. 

“can i ride you?” you ask him hazily.

“what?” gojo bleats, confused and enamoured all at once.

swallowing thickly, you repeat your words — leisurely rolling your hips back and forth in a premature pussy job. being sure to rub yourself back and forth against the length of satoru. “can i ride you?” 

“fuck me,” he sniggers breathlessly and says your name. “aren’t you just full of surprises tonight? you can do whatever you want to me, baby. i can take it.” 

with his permission, you undo the last of gojo’s buttons and smooth over the expanse of his place flesh, thumb at his budding pink nipples and then, form a necklace around his unmarred throat with your hands. he coughs and splutters in surprise but allows you to walk him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the toilet and he topples onto its seat in a sitting position. 

your hand moves swiftly to cup gojo’s jaw as you look above him and stand between his thighs that instantly manspread to make room for his pretty little baby between them. one of your perfectly manicured nails drags down his bottom lip, then becomes a finger that delves deep into the heat of his mouth. “you’re… you’re beautiful,” he gargles around the digit, staring deep into your soulful brown eyes. “and i adore you.”  it’s true. you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen even if your braids are askew and your dress is ruffled and your makeup is almost entirely gone. 

even when you have satoru gojo in a choke hold like this you’re still stunning to him. not one thing could tarnish such rare beauty that you posses. if the end of his life came in this moment, he wouldn’t even mind. he wonders if you’re aware of that fact or still believe the little voice in your mind telling you that he’s just using you.

gojo was bad with words, he knows that. he often got timings wrong and said things at the wrong time (like now when he tries to tell you that he loves you but in his own words, hence ‘adore’) but he always means them. he can tell that you’re getting in your head right now, standing above him — trying to decipher if he’s telling the truth. if he wanted you, you wished he’d say he wanted you. explicitly. 

he wished that he could tell you explicitly, but he’s so fucked up in the head that he struggles. 

so instead, satoru takes your hand in his (the one in his mouth) and moves it far back enough so that he can kiss your knuckles sweetly. a gesture to prove his truth to you. one to prove how much he loves you. 

the hard expression on your face softens and you drop to satoru’s lap — straddling him so that his girth presses directly against your juicy cunt like before and your thighs are either side of his. “then make love to me,” you goad him, circling your hips and chasing the delicious burn of his dick pressing into you — a feeling that you miss all the time but can never get used to. “love me like you mean it.” 

it’s not long before satoru is at your neck again, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along its plaines. “i can do that. i can give that to you. do you think you’ll be able to take it?” he questions lightly, a large hand splaying across your back — prepared to guide your movements.

“y-yeah… ‘m ready.” you exhale carefully, your mind pleasantly fuzzy as gojo grabs onto your ass and encourages you to raise your hips for him. the other hand now holds onto his dripping dick to position it at your entrance — he runs it through your soaked folds a couple times and dips in and out of your hole. you make such a cute little noise when satoru starts to push into you, sucking him in so well and clenching around the circumference of his bulbous tip as if to trap him inside before you’ve managed to sink down on him. it continues like that for a little while, satoru holding you up by your ass or your thighs while he patiently waits for you to take him the rest of the way. 

he fucks you gently with the tip at first, getting you used to the delicious stretch to your pussy — despite the resistance he meets from how tight you are.

“there you go baby…you can take over now. sink down on me when you’re able to, kay?” satoru peppers your face in amusement while he watches you try to stabilise your breathing. there’s a long way to go and you’re still so sensitive from your last orgasm. “hm, you’re so fuckin’ cute.” he muses, nipping at your cheek without any real bite.

“s-shut up,” you state through a pout, controlling your tears which only make your love snort affectionately. crescent moons from your nails take their shape in satoru’s milky shoulders, leaving pink indents in place as you slide further down his cock, taking inch by inch until you’re comfortably nestled at his balls. “satoru…why’s there so much of you?” in reality, you’re not actually complaining  — content with your ribbed walls kissing the prominent veins on his shaft. you clench around him experimentally, sending a ripple of desire through the man at your mercy and finally let him bottom out inside of you as your juices run down him. 

he does nothing but smile lazily up at you, taking your wrists and coordinating them to rest on his chest for you to use as more comfortable leverage. as much as you like the way he’s pressed up against your insides — you find the strength to peel your hips away from satoru’s clothed thighs and thrust back down with a resounding, wet slap that echoes throughout the restaurant bathroom. 

it should be criminal, maybe even illegal, how warm, tight and wet you are — as if you’re a virgin who’s never been fucked before. he splutters and stammers as his overstimulated cockhead nudges against your silken walls and they quiver around him feverishly. he could charge you with a life sentence, keeping him jailed in your pretty pussy for life. “i know i said i’d let you ride me but god,” he whispers, trailing his fingers up the front of your dress. just as ice cold and ringed fingers circle your areolas from over the fabric, satoru thrusts up into you — driven insane by lust and desire, his eyes disappear onto the dark night of his skull. “cant help it… i wanna make you feel good. wanna fuck you.” 

there’s no time for you to respond, no chance to wrack your brain for a witty comeback because you’re too busy focusing on trying to keep yourself seated in gojo’s lap. your eyes become misty and satoru’s voice becomes murky, breaths of exertion coasting over your lips and your skin as he sets a constant, almost bullying, pace to his slender hips as they barrage into your sex. it’s hard enough to pull squelching sounds from your messy pussy, and enough for the sound of his breeder’s balls to reverberate between your working bodies.

in this position, satoru is able to hit deep — churn your gummy insides up and hit every pleasure spot your tiny fingers can’t reach. you’re a slumped and helpless mess in his lap, pathetic, since you were the one who wanted to be on top in the first place. but neither of you mind it, satoru likes being able to take care of you like this, watch every contortion of your angelic face and twitch of your lips and flutter of your lashes as he pounds into you from below. 

“that’s it… that’s it pretty girl,” he coos to you so softly, glancing up at you with massive silvery-blue eyes holding pure fixation for you. “you want it so bad, letting me have you like this. i love it, i love yo—” he cuts himself off with a deep growl and reaches around the meat at your waist, your soft tummy as well as your plentiful skirts to graze your clit as arousal pearls over it — each brush at the swelling nub is calculated and catered exactly how you like, especially after falling into sheets with him so many times over the last two years. his touch treads softly on your body while he takes it slow, passionately ruining your insides. 

you hiccup and a light sparks behind the sapphire frame of your lover’s eyes. he repeats the action, only this time pinching your clit before he carefully pulls you close and angles his hips into your g-spot a little more — worshipping your body like a queen on her throne. “listen to that baby, your pussy sounds so pretty taking all of me.” gojo punctuates his words with deep, purposeful movements that have his achingly hot cock repeatedly jamming against that one particular spot. “you need it like this, need me to always take the lead, hm? you act like you’re such a big girl, but really you’re just my needy little one.” 

satoru feeds you a mix of praise and light condescending remarks, keeping you under his spell just like always has. as if he were a pied piper using his darling moans to draw you in. he keeps you pacified like a baby with languid thrusts and sloppy kisses all over — barely giving you a moment to think independently. the hand wrapped around your waist keeps you anchored to gojo, teaching you dance in a sensual sticky grind that only lovers know how to do.

dropping your forehead to rest against his, you let out a blissful whimper. “s’not fair, you always… ah f-fuck! you always take control from me,” you’re supposed to be the one using satoru. using him to take your mind off of suguru while you remind the man of all the reasons he should love you openly and publicly. but, like always, you fall victim to the touch which causes you to blossom above satoru and the candied voice he uses that make sweet nectar pour from your abused little hole.

“it’s cause you adore me,” gojo tells you in a rough voice. states it like it’s fact written in a history book for lovers. you can’t and don’t have time to deny him — managing a weak whine of annoyance when his lips attach to the cliffs of your collar bones. his tongue rolls saliva over the area where he can’t leave a physical mark, knowing that the white hot sensation will stick with you all night — making it just as good as any other forbidden hickey or stolen love bite. “you love me, don’t you?” 

“g-god yes!” neither of you have any idea what exactly it is you’re saying yes to — whether it be the way he pounds at your puffy, swollen mound or saying that you love him, it doesn’t really matter. you’re both too far gone. you finally start to grind down on him again, using all of your strength to push past your overstimulation and match satoru’s toe-curling stream of thrusts, syncing up your cantering hips. every stroke of his cock within the depths of your silken, pulsating cunt earns you a muffled whine from him. 

a fresh red tint begins to glow under the surface of your lover’s pale skin, the blood coursing through his veins and coagulating at his cheeks is dotted with love and lust hormones just like your own. the fact that he’s barely able to pull out of your selfish pussy means that there’s a shine to his polyester clad thighs from your juices — the glisten barely catching under the artificial light in the bathroom. 

everything overwhelms you, you feel like you’re drowning. fat beads of precum between your sore thighs begin to form because you’re clenching down on gojo so hard, his cock even fights it’s way to pull out of your addictive heat. you can’t let him go, your body won’t let him go, dragging him into the routine of crazy intense and creamy sex — bulbous and purpling cockhead consistently digging into your g-spot. everything is so wrong but it feels so right — it doesn’t make any sense but you feel so nice. 

“yanno…” satoru slurs over the heavy weight of saliva spreading through his mouth while he runs it. “‘m so fucking lucky… to be the only man who gets to see you like this. whining so sweetly, legs all shaky, pussy so fucking wet.” appreciatively, his cruel cerulean gaze drops to where his milky cock disappears into your fat pussy and his digits move from your clit to spread your netherlips apart, putting the glaze of your essence that coats his rock hard girth on display. 

gojo truly is so very lucky, to be the only man with the pleasure of jackhammering into you to his hearts content. he’s so lucky that there isn’t anyone else you want aside from him, that all you want his for him to be better for you. he really should work on that. especially if he wants to be the only one who lives and breathes you for the rest of forever. on the contrary, you hate that he only sees your worth to him while fucking you — it makes bitterness simmer underneath the absolute depraved ecstasy you feel. 

but you’re not giving satoru gojo up. not in this lifetime. 

taking advantage of your hands planted firmly against gojo’s broad chest — you peel your sweaty thighs away from gojo’s trembling ones, his cock being tugged away from the snugness of your oozing, sopping mound. an incredulous gasp lays wet on the seam of the silver haired man’s lips. he misses you. he wants you so bad and there’s no greater relief than when you slam back down onto his cock, hips cantering down so fast that he easily hits your womb. the force makes you both drool and you throw yourself forward to capture gojo in a messianic kiss between two lovers. 

euphoria chillingly slips into your veins while you rock yourself against gojo feverishly, both of your chests heaving erratically from your love making. “you…you talk too much,” you mumble into his mouth, tongue rolling over his as if to swipe the words from his tongue. if he says anymore you won’t last any longer. you lick the salt from his lips, an obsessive glint in your eye — because satoru gojo is all that you want. “talk way too much…just love me, just fuck me.” 

satoru wants to love you, it’s like he’s genetically coded to. he can’t imagine being this in love with anyone else aside from you — but there’s a selfish mental block on his mind that stops him from giving you the commitment you need. right now, in this moment, he’ll give you the pieces of himself that he can. he’ll make love to you, he’ll make you see stars and galaxies, he’ll do whatever he can to make you happy right here, right now. 

sweat from the exertion of rutting into you pins his silvering locks to his forehead — it drips down the side of gojo’s face which you lovingly lick. your lover wraps both of his arms around your waist and pulls you in so that you nestle on his chest — giving you the leverage you need to pound yourself on curve of his cock, seeping viscous honey down his shaft. the scene is obscene, but there’s love and adoration buzzing between your tangled limbs. 

hearts sprinkle themselves amongst the flecks in your eyes as you look up at gojo and your pupils dilate at the chorus of skin slapping on skin, the pap pap pap of your swollen mound while your lover buries himself deep in your warmth — pulling unholy sounds from your angelic body. the toilet he sits on creaks beneath the force of your ministrations, threatening to break just like you might on top of your lover. 

“i’d do anything for you, a-anything you wanted,” gojo counters, quivering beneath you with his hair sticking to your sweltering skin. it’s true, he’d rip stars from the sky and skyscrapers to the ground. his heart chases after your every desire. between frenzied bucks and mismatched smooches, the man swipes his fingertips over your pulsating clit — rubbing fat droplets of creamy precum into your folds and the sensitive nub. the whole time, he keeps you stuffed full of his cock, hardly pulling out each time you lift and drop yourself on his dick. 

mewling like a pornstar, your hands shoot upwards and wring themselves in moonlight hair — a tell tale sign that you’re getting closer and closer to reaching cloud nine. “y-yeah? then make me cum, l-let me make a mess on your cock. please.” you plead, the back and forth of your cunt over gojo’s lap tampering with your system by sending orgasmic shockwaves through you. 

“i gotcha, anything for you, beautiful. s-shit!” using his free hand, gojo grabs at the fat of your ass and pulls you up and down on his girth — giving him the room to pummel your pussy hard and fast. “you squeeze me real tight when i act all desperate for you.” 

“a-aren’t you? o-oh ‘toru, right there!” you exclaim and ask all at once in one high pitched moan, failing to press for an answer while gojo bullies his way through your walls and right up to your womb. your clit smears over his hipbone, painting him with tube dulcet juices. 

gojo builds up momentum inside of you, dragging his seedy tip along your ravaged walls from how deep he’s able to get inside of you. “i am… only god knows that i am. fuck, i wanna be yours, want this to last forever,” white starts to froth at the base of his dick, streaking all over your soiled folds as your cunt squirts copious amounts of essence each time his balls clap against you. “think i’m gonna fuckin’ cum, might be inside.” 

“satoru please…” your hips stutter above his, choking out gojo’s cock for fear life in an attempt to get him to fill you up to the brim with his seed. you tear up and he barely lets you off his twitching erection. 

“i know baby, i fucking know — i’m right there with you. hold onto me. my fucking baby.” with the last of his energy, satoru assaults your pussy with a barrage of desperate thrusts, jerking you about in his lap. that’s all either of you need before you’re thrown over the edge, rendering you limp, cum soaked messes in one another’s arms. the ropes in your lower tummy, that have been burning this entire time, finally begins to unravel.

the world around you blurs, your brain fucking lags and you actually fucking squirt. a scream rips through you and burns at the edges of your voice, following through your uncontrollable shakes. clear streams of arousal shoot from your sloppy, dirty cunt and pool in satoru’s dress pants — soaking him to the bone. 

“that’s it baby, give it to me. all of it, make a mess — want it all over me.” satoru goads hoarsely, losing control of his thrusts until they become uncoordinated and lackadaisical. “a-ah! oh! holy shit, mmm ‘m cumming baby. f-for you…” the aftershocks of your high and little twitches from your heavenly hole trigger the white haired man’s orgasm. right before his release, his hand reaches up from toying with your sex to grab at your sapphire pendant — using the chain to yank you up into a sensual lip lock that seals his fate, practically pulling it off of you while you make out through his high.

hot, sticky and thick ropes of white seed spill into you — there’s even so much of it that it overflows from your tiny entrance and oozes against your raw mound. you’re still cumming, forcing satoru out of you while he continues to flood your womb — what doesn’t make it is left to smear over your thighs and poofy dress, glazing you in viscous cum. 

still releasing in spurts, satoru carefully pulls out of you and leans back against the cool tile of the bathroom wall so that you slump against his chest — relaxed. warm content simmers in the air between your maze of limbs and you leak against one another sweetly. 

“so much for fixing your necklace,” satoru jests over the static itching at your brain while you come down from your earth-shattering high.

you offer him up a dopey smile, all of the tension from earlier on in the night melting away when you look at him. “we’ll have to hide it from suguru, so he doesn’t notice. we’ve been gone for a while too.” no matter what gojo puts you through, it’s always worth it for the way he makes you feel after sex. 

warm, cherished and cared for. 

just like suguru would want you to be. 

“well, whose fault is that, little one?” a chaste kiss is pressed against your hairline as satoru helps you to sit up in his lap — drawing back slightly to give you a once over and mirroring the way you grin at him with a toothy smirk. “little miss ‘we don’t have time.’ — i’ll have to fix your make up, can’t have you walking back out there like i’ve just rocked your shit.” 

despite his crude words, satoru’s gesture makes your chest bristle with happiness. “you’re an idiot, satoru gojo.” 

“an idiot that you adore. an idiot who you like way too much,”  he fires back childishly. “c’mere, let me get rid of the mess i made of you.” 

you do, like him too much, a little too much for your own good. 

it’s twisted, the mere fact that satoru has such a hold on your heart that you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try— and it only worsens when he’s good to you like this. so good with the way he helps you clean up, tends to your ruffled dress, redoes your smudged makeup and jokes with you while he dries his sex stained pants under the hand drier before you go back out to meet your family. 

you’re a love sick fool when it comes to him. 

and you have no idea how much that’s going to change. 

suguru geto was not an idiot. 

his numerous academic accolades are enough evidence of that. in highschol he graduated with a GPA of 4.0% which only escalated by the time he got to college — which was like a breeze to him.  by the time he’d finished his four year degree, there was an industry opportunity waiting for geto on the other side of all of his hard work and efforts. 

it pleased him to know that people thought highly of his skills, appreciated the knit and grit and blood, sweat and tears he put into his work. he had a passion for seeking the truth, discovering the reasons and meanings for people’s actions — it was suguru’s calling. that’s why he became a criminal defence lawyer. 

why do people do what they do? why do people lie? why do people run and hide? 

with all of suguru geto’s smarts and analytical skills — his ability it to think critically, you would think he’d have it all figured out by now. 

suguru geto was not stupid.

so why is it that he can’t figure out what’s wrong with you? why you’ve been so skittish and why this entire night? he knows you, his baby sister, like you were his own flesh and blood. like you were the back of his slightly calloused and hard working hand. you may have been adopted, you may not share the same DNA but suguru has lived with you and been raised with you long enough to know how your genetic code reacts to certain pressures and scenarios and situations.

you’re his little sister for christ’s sake. 

as you make your way back to your family’s designated table, weaving between pedigree bred children and their families, waiters and waitresses working tired on their feet — he notices how the tension you’d been experiencing the whole night has suddenly dissipated from your body as if it were never there. your shoulders have dropped, your movements flow as loosely as your baby blue cupcake dress does, your eyes are bright and full of an energy suguru has only seen once in someone else. 

another soul he’s grown up with. 

the very idea makes him feel ill, the food on his plate suddenly becoming unappealing and bitter against the insides of his mouth. you’re not… you would never… 

“hi,” you greet the table tentatively, the corners of your cocoa painted lips quirking up into a small smile. “did i miss anything?” 

suguru forgoes answering you to ask his own question. “where have you been?” 

the chatter at your table dies down only just as your parents register your presence with the group once more — joining in on your conversation with your brother like a car merging lanes. 

“oh! i was just in the bathroom… you know, girl stuff. powdering my nose.” you offer up as an excuse, twirling the end of your curled braids between your gentle fingers. a habit your brother knows you’ve picked up when you’re shy, yet, content. “you know how it goes.” 

his dark eyes sweep over your face. suguru doesn’t know much about make-up, just that you like doing it. he had been the one to get you your first eyeshadow palette in your teen years but that’s as far as he goes. everything seems to be in place, perfect, you’re beautiful as you always have been.

but there’s a slight smudge to your lip combo that bleeds just past the curve of your cupid’s bow — out of place enough for geto to notice. the colour is different too. black instead of brown, as if you’ve mixed up the lipsticks in a rush.

suguru tries not to dwell. he really does. dropping the topic and retreating to his dinner plate while you idly chat to your parents about your new job but something in his gut stirs — he remembers something. 

gojo is nowhere to be seen and your pendent is missing.

you can’t. you’d never…

as if on cue, the moonlight man returns to the party, loudly pulling out his seat and taking his place next to you once again. gojo’s hair is a mess, much messier than it was before… as if someone had roughed it up with desperate fingers. your chocolaty lip colour is smeared along his neck in deconstructed lip prints as if he’d tried to wash them away, dotted along the collar of his crisp white shirt too. the contrast of the colours make it blatantly obvious what’s been going on too. the silver chain of your necklace hangs freely from his pocket.

“did i miss anything?” he asks casually, despite how not-put-together he looks — much less in comparison to you, who’d returned to dinner first. 

it makes geto’s skin itch and crawl, the similarity between your words and gojo’s. he can’t even think to reply, yet the words come tumbling out before he can stop them.

“wouldn’t you like to know,” suguru snaps callously. “where have you been?”

“wanted to see if the little miss made it back to the table alright.” gojo lies smoothly, resting a large hand on your shoulder. geto notes the way he strokes your neck with his thumb. “you know how she is, clueless without suguru, right?” 

your parents and gojo burst out into charmed laughter, adding to the bustle and ambience of the restaurant. suguru’s face only sours as your father chime’s in next. “this one probably raised her better than i did. he was so excited to have a little sister, wouldn’t go anywhere without her.” it’s the alcohol that causes your father to blurt out the embarrassing memory — it’s sweet and cherished, but does nothing to help ease your brother’s boiling fury as he’s patted on the back by his dad.

pet like a dog getting a treat.

a reward for taking care of you all these years.

“yeah, raised her to be smart and proper. that’s why she’s a graduate and not mooching off of us anymore.” geto seethes from your left.

from your right, satoru reaches for his crystal glass for a drink — only to realise that it’s empty. he next reaches for the bottle of moscato ordered for the table, and pours some for himself until it levels out at the rim of his glass. “ouch suguru, way to hit a man where it hurts,” your ‘boyfriend’ whines petulantly, sipping the surface of his drink. “you know i work for dad now, you’d be so proud. still making money, not mooching off of his.” 

you fiddle with your cutlery, the silverware awkwardly clattering against your plate while you finish off the steak you’d ordered. then, your mother breaks the tension.

“does anybody want to order dessert?”

satoru is quick to jump on her distraction train — enthusiastically nodding his head with silver locks flying about the place. “oh you know me, ma. i love a sweet lil’ thing, got a huge sweet tooth.” satoru chirps excitedly — as chipper as can be.

“that you do dear boy, pick out anything you’d like.” your dad says in turn.

the silver haired stray at your table pretends to ponder before clapping his hands together — causing both you and geto to jerk at the sound. 

“daifuku!” 

“oh, that’s been a recent favourite of our little girl’s, hasn't it darling?” mum gushes proudly. “reminds me so much of her.”

the anxiety in the back of your mind spikes to an all time high as your dragged into the conversation once more — suguru hot on your trail, close to uncovering it all. you shrink under the burning gazes of everyone at the table — your lover, your parents and your brother. satoru, of course, takes amusement in knowing you crave his favourite sweet even when you’re apart. geto is less than impressed. 

you nod and gojo lets out a laugh that sets your soul alight and sends a shiver down your spine. “that’s right, our girl is just the sweetest little thing.” he praises you, resting his cheek on a closed fist, gojo’s elbow sitting comfortably on the table while he stares over at you dreamily.

suguru geto was not a fool.

he could see right through the happenings before his very eyes. the way you looked up at satoru, your expression docile and pure, dark eyes glimmering and brimming with so much idolisation and worship for satoru, it was a look suguru had seen many times before. it was a look previously saved only for him — from little sister to older brother. 

you stare up at gojo like he holds all of the world’s secrets, like he could keep you safe from any and all types of harm, like you love him.

“i’ll have what he’s having,” geto hears you murmuring airily, but there’s static ringing in his ears and red flashing before his eyes — he’s that pissed off at his sudden realisation. 

it’s only when his gaze flits to his best friend, his one and only, satoru gojo that the dam breaks and all of suguru’s emotions and epiphanies from the night come bursting out in shades of white hot fury. because satoru matches your expression, his blue ocean eyes drown you in love and he looks as though he’s won the fucking lottery. hazily and smugly grinning at you while the table discusses desserts.

the final puzzle piece that suguru has been looking for clicks into place. 

it all hits him like a truck.

“oh you slick motherfucker…” suguru growls slowly, his words fighting through their prison of his gritted pearly white teeth. the syllables and their sound contrast heavily with the abrupt way in which your darker haired sibling stands from his chair — almost sending it flying to the floor as he slams a fist down onto the table. his other hand points accusingly towards your lover, and everyone’s attention falls on him. 

“suguru what are you—?”

“you fucked her. didn’t you?”

expressions of incredulousness morph on the faces of your dinner guests ( yourself included ), shocked by geto’s bellowing voice and stone cold glare. not to mention the callousness of his words. he knows. and it’s like you’ve been doused in a bucket of ice water. he knows what you and satoru have been up to, the smoke has cleared and you can no longer hide from him. 

“suguru geto, mind your manners!” one of your parents snaps, but you can’t quite place the voice — every sound in the restaurant blurs into one and your head swims with a dangerous mix of panic and alcohol. he knows. your mind screams, the pink and squishy organ dully thumping against it’s calcium cage — your skull. 

“fuck manners,” he barks, suguru’s mouth beginning to froth like a dog rabid with rabies. his face hardens as if it’s been set in stone, while a storm clouds geto’s previously welcoming eyes. “answer my question, satoru.”

innocently, yet with an air of confidence and patronisation, gojo tilts his head to the side like that of a puppy — his bright white teeth put on display as he smiles slow and softly as if to diffuse the situation with his charm. “i don’t know what you’re talking about—“

“bullshit!” suguru fires back, his wrath beginning to boil over the edge like the restaurant’s signature slow cooked stew. he begins to roll up the white sleeves of his dress shirt — as if he’s preparing for a fight. one with his best friend. once the material is snug around the bulge in his bicep, your brother slams his hands down on the table once again, causing heads to turn and cutlery to clatter about the place. “that’s fucking bullshit satoru and you know it. i can see it on you. i can smell it on you.”

in all your years of living with the geto family, becoming a part of it and finding your sense of belonging with them — you’ve never seen your brother this angry, let alone see such red hot rage directed at someone he cares about. someone you care about too. 

“sugu,” you whimper and stand, trying to direct his attention away from your lover boy. “suguru it’s okay. it’s not what it looks like—!” 

another slam of his hands on the table slices through your meek words — causing you to jump out of your skin. 

swirling black eyes hideous with anger and upset switch their attention to you — tearing you apart underneath their judgemental gaze. suguru has never looked at you like that. he’s always been so good to you, never been mad at you without cause or at least let you seen so. that was until today.

“i wasn’t fucking talking to you. sit down and keep quiet. let your big brother handle this.” geto spits, the pain of his worded venom shooting painfully to your heart — causing tears to sting at your waterline. 

“don’t fucking talk to her like that.” satoru keeps his voice low, in a tone you’ve only ever heard him use with the guys hitting on you at college. it’s dark and threatening, but most of all, protective. protective over you. you never thought it would be thrown at suguru. he stands up too while you sink back down, catching a glimpse of your parents’ worried stares from across the table.

onlookers in the restaurant are no different. 

“so, you think you can speak for her now? since when did you two get so close, hm? did you two fuck? did i hit a sore spot, gojo? ” a rich, sarcastic laugh reverberates from geto’s vocal chords. the whole scenario is…entertaining to him. his best friend, his brother of all people, fucking with his little sister — knowing how it would make him feel. 

there’s a beat of silence across the dinner table, consisting of nothing but death glares and heaving chests.

but then all of a sudden, satoru leans forward with his palms pressed flat against the table’s surface — a sick smile twisting on his ever-soft and glossy pink lips as he jeers back at the younger male, taunting suguru. 

“oh i’ve been hitting her spots alright.”

you feel like you’ve been doused in cold once again, the blood that had been flushing to your face, now freezing in your veins. the fact that satoru would reveal intimate details of your love or sex life to the light of day (let alone your older brother) should make you fall ill. yet, in some sick and twisted way it makes butterflies flap their dainty wings in your lower tummy. 

because he’s admitting it, that he wants to be with you, to suguru’s face. 

“we’ve been closer than you could have ever imagined, suguru. nice and close, she outta have been swallowing me down.” satoru doubles down, because once he starts running his mouth, he can never stop. 

stopping them both now would be futile. but your parents are watching, other guests and staff are watching. it’s humiliating. having the two men you care about most go at each other like this. “satoru!” you squeal, desperate.

“oh you nasty motherfucker. so you did sleep with my sister.” geto growls before turning to you, furious. “how long? and don’t you dare lie to me.” 

“s-sugu, please. not here.” you start with a trembling voice, tears slipping down your cheeks freely while you look between the two men. 

“i said how long!” 

the way your brother raises his voice at you causes you to flinch back into your shell and for satoru to push his way between you both protectively. he would never let you get hurt, he had promised you that. even if he had done so himself. he wasn’t about to let suguru wound you too. 

“y’got cotton between your ears or something, suguru?” satoru makes himself tall and intimidating, towering over suguru. it was something that worked with everyone, scared them off from the person that was his and the one that he loved — you. but suguru wasn’t buying that act. “i said. stop. fucking. talking to her like that.” each of his menacing words are punctuated by a shove to your brother’s chest, each one taking a swing at your heart. you hate to see them hurting each other, you hate being in the middle of it all. suguru takes it all, as if he’s numb from the news, staggering back into another family’s table — causing their glasses and dishes to collide and clatter about until it stops and gojo grabs at the collar of geto’s shirt. “if you’re gonna be mad and yell at someone, be mad at me.” 

satoru adjusts his grip on your brother, but his blue eyes beg for him to let it go. for you to all go home and figure this out somewhere else. 

suguru just can’t. his mind can’t wrap around the idea that you’ve been leaning on someone else this whole time — using someone else. sleeping with his best friend all this time. it’s not in his nature to be violent, geto has been perfect all his life and never veered from the correct path. he would never hit anyone. he’s never felt the urge to put his hands on someone, unlike satoru. but in that moment, looking at his best friend and feeling the blood pour from the open wound in his chest. 

exasperated by the stab wound to the back, from both you and satoru.

“you’re right,” the words taste like acid on suguru’s tongue as he grasps at gojo’s own collar with his green hand. never in a million years did he picture himself hating someone he loved with his whole heart. it physically pains him to even think about resenting you. it makes his vision shake and bleed with a dark red, he feels so irrevocably angry that he might hurt someone.  “it’s you i should be pissed with.”

geto moves without thinking, every fibre of his being reverting back to man’s natural instinct as his fist connects harshly with the underside of gojo’s chin. the taller of the two stumbles back in shock — thick and temperate scarlet coating his pearly white teeth from where he’s bitten down on his tongue along with the force. satoru barely has time to react not before suguru is on him again; landing another punch square in his face — accompanied by a sickening crack.

your brother grabs at your lover, shaking him by the lapels of his now bloodied suit and you scream loud enough to lower the temperature of the dining hall and fill it with chills because suguru has always told you to look away from violence. and this time you couldn’t.

you couldn’t bare to look away from those beautiful blue eyes as they took a hit for you. 

satoru sways backwards and forwards, clearly stunned at the force behind his best friend’s fists. he damn near collapses into the table behind him, causing the onlookers to yelp and cry out at his injured state. he’s got a busted lip, bruised cheeks and nose and he’s still the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

“fuck, suguru!” gojo’s voice wobbles, he sounds wounded. both inside and out. “what the fuck?” eventually, he grounds himself, tongue darting out to lick the patch of crimson at the corner of his lip. he swipes his bloody nose on the back of his hand too — steeling his already hard, azure eyes. 

“you deserved it. pulling this shit with my sister? are you fucking insane? you could have had anyone else—“ suguru cracks his knuckles, shaking them out. 

you feel as though you’re in the middle of a battle — one for your honour. words that leave battle scars are thrown from both gojo and geto on each side, swords of male ego clash at the centre and you’re nothing but a defenceless damsel in distress. what could you possibly do against the both of them? you think to throw yourself in between the two men as gojo stalks his way over to your brother in three scarily short strides…but your mother quickly wraps her arms around your shoulders and hugs you to her chest — keeping you away from the fight. 

your father takes a stance in front of you both — he would interfere, but he’s not as young and as agile as he used to be. he’d get his teeth knocked in if he did. 

“stop it! p-please! satoru don’t—!” you screech and wail to him over the commotion of the gathering crowds. he ignores your calls, acting on his free will as satoru’s throws his own punch — another scream tears through the chamber of your chest just from witnessing suguru’s head snap to the side from its power. “suguru!”

“fuck. you, gojo.” your brother slurs, wiping his own bleeding nose on the sleeve of his white shirt.

“fuck you right back, geto.” 

you did this. you caused this. if you had just heeded your brother’s advice, he wouldn’t be losing a friend. you wouldn’t be losing someone you loved. you should have stayed away, you should have—

“i should have never trusted you!” comes your brother’s vicious snarl, somehow managing to squirm free of satoru’s grip and using the last of his strength to push the silver haired male to the smooth marble.

satoru doesn’t move, just barely managing to protect his head from the fall. he’s still bleeding, light headed but powered by his desire to protect you. kill for you. “i know! but we couldn’t help it! it just happened!” 

suguru turns to you. “did he take advantage of you? ever? how long has this been a thing?”

“n-no! never! s-satoru would never!” you gulp back a choked sob, hoping to put an end to the madness. stop the shattered glass and the people staring and the punches being thrown. you’re a terrible liar, geto knows that. he can see right through your thinly veiled lies — satoru isn’t the type to just want someone. it comes with a price, the pieces of your heart worth more than gold to your brother. of course… at first it had been that way, satoru took what he wanted. but nowadays it feels different. feels like more. 

“t-two years. it was…it was all me. i-im the one who said i liked him first. i always have.” you continue slowly, hoping for the smallest twinkle of mercy in geto’s eyes. “please sugu…please. this… this is enough. just leave him alone. i’ll never talk to him again just…stop.” 

throughout your whole speech, tears and all, suguru remains towering over your boyfriend with both of their chests heaving, both of their shirts ripped and bloody. you think, for a moment, he might leave it at that — suguru will take your hand, lead you out of the restaurant and that’ll be it. satoru will be spared and you’ll have sacrificed your feelings for him to save their friendship. 

however, the tears that drip down the apples if your cheeks and streak through your makeup aren’t enough. they’re not enough to provide a barrier to gojo’s selfishness — even at his lowest, quite literally (lying weakly underneath suguru), he still thinks he can have it all. both you and his friend. 

“t-that shit’s not true. she was a game to me at first—“ he begins to say, causing hurt to flash across your chest and for you to fall to your knees despite being in your mother’s unsteady grip. 

he doesn’t get to finish for geto takes the opportunity to straddle gojo — unleashing hit after hit on him like a meteor shower of pain. you don’t think he’ll stop until his knuckles are split.

“suguru! s-stop it!” you cry. 

people scream just like you but don’t interfere. you don’t even care that they’re staring, you don’t care what they think, all you care about are their well-being. 

to your relief, satoru finds an interval — latching onto his ‘ex’ best friend’s wrists with the last of his energy, effectively stopping him from landing anymore punches. “c-christ suguru, let me fucking finish,” satoru gargles on the blood pooling in his perfect, chatty mouth — using his grasp on suguru to push him into sitting on the floor too. “maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have missed this part,” the older of the two, gojo, spits the nasty mix of spit and blood at the younger’s feet — using a second to regain his breath. he spares a second to look at you, shaking on your knees desperate to touch him and see if he’s okay. you don’t know. you still don’t know just how much satoru gojo is willing to sacrifice for you. you have no idea how much he loves you. so he says it. profoundly and loudly. 

“… missed the part where i fell in love with her. hard and fast. couldn’t even tell i was falling.”

geto slumps back on his knees, dropping his bruised and cut up knuckles between them with defeat. your entire body sags in relief, until you’re a mess of crumpled clothes, bones and tears. 

he’s never told you that before. that he loves you. 

“god, satoru…fuck!” suguru exclaims, clearly exasperated. his rage has simmered to a stop,  with only angst and anguish filling the air in his lungs. he’s realised now what this means. he’ll never look at you or the satoru the same. the two people he loves most on this god forsaken earth. “she’s my little sister!”

he sounds like he’s about to cry.

“i know.” 

“you watched her grow up! we grew up together!”

“i know.” 

“you’re five years older than her!” 

“i know, goddamn it!” satoru finally breaks the loop, his voice heavy with pain and exhaustion. “but i love her and i can’t help that. neither of us can.”

in the moment of silence that passes, where the audience calms down and suguru steps away from a bloody and beaten satoru — you rush to his side, sliding across the marble floor in your pretty dress to help your lover sit up properly. suguru looks down at you in desolation, his brows creased in the centre of his forehead unhappily. the expression makes you hug gojo’s head to your shoulder tightly in your own protective stance — crimson bleeding across blue fabric like ink in water, forming a hollow shade of purple.

“she’s my little sister…” geto repeats solemnly, as if he’s watching your child-like innocence fade away in real time. he’s been looking out for you for so long that he’s failed to see what an adult you’ve become. it doesn’t make the betrayal hurt any less, though. “she’s…she’s still a kid.” he adds, swallowing the lump in his throat. “and now you’re fucking her?”

satoru shakes his head, easing himself from your grip as though to show you that he’s strong. strong enough for the both of you. “it’s not like that, and she’s not a kid anymore. she’s twenty two, suguru! she doesn’t need you watching over her like some fucking hawk anymore. she can fuck me or whoever the fuck she wants.” 

and even though satoru is right — you hate that they both talk about you as if you’re not even there or autonomous enough to defend yourself. 

“but you know better.” geto goes on, his own defence becoming weaker and weaker — disintegrating like paper in water. 

“we both do!” finally finding your voice, you stand up from your position on the floor cradling satoru and move to stand in front of your brother — grabbing his hands with pleading doe eyes and tears on your cheeks. “w-we’re both adults who made the mistake of getting involved with each other behind your back. but we don’t have to fight this out like children…please just give us a chance, sugu. talk to him. talk to me. y-your little sister…”

geto sags again, he looks tired, but accepts your affection without a trace of doubt or hatred. he thumbs the backs of your hands, dark obsidian eyes gazing into your soul like a galaxy of black holes. your deep chocolatey eyes are met with a stare full of trust and admiration — something familiar, something that fills you with temporary relief.

you like to think that you know suguru geto. 

he’s the smartest and most rational man you’ve ever met. your brother has always been kind and tender, takes the time to really listen to people and think things through step by step. he never acts on instinct or brashness. those are all things you know about him. 

you like to think that your older sibling knows you too. 

that he would look at you and see your truth, how much you care for gojo and how you didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. 

clearly, neither of you know each other as well as you once thought. 

he sees gojo from over your shoulder, and the same sense of white hot betrayal washes over the dark haired man like an acid bath. he rips his hands away from yours as if he’s touched molten lava and you’ve scalded the palms of his hands in which he used to love you, care for you and raise you. 

a pained sound gargles in your throat as geto pulls away from you — his own mature, handsome face, equally as distraught. “i can’t,” he mumbles quietly. “not right now. i’m sorry.” his warmth is gone before you know it and he’s grabbing his belongings from your dinner table, bowing in apology to guests and staff and your parents. 

“suguru!” you gasp, tears stinging at your eyes once again. “suguru wait!”

geto presses his thick, black leather wallet to your mother’s chest as he passes your parents, his suit coat half slung over his shoulder. “use the black card to cover the bill for dinner and pay for the meals of the families who’s tables we destroyed. i’ll take care of any damages too — the owner was a client of mine.” he tells her softly, kissing her forehead. 

“suguru— your sister!”

he doesn’t turn back as he pushes his way through the crowd in order to reach the exit. “she’s old enough to look after herself, right?”

“suguru please.” 

you will yourself to chase after him, every cell in your body screaming at you to move while your heart and mind long for you to stay by satoru’s side. 

you’re conflicted, you don’t know who to choose. 

and maybe it’s satoru’s selfishness, maybe he’s the one to blame for the rift in yours and suguru’s relationship — because when he succumbs to the bleeding and the injuries, and someone aside from you screams for an ambulance, you can’t bring yourself to leave him. 

like a bird in a cage, you’re trapped by satoru’s love.

or perhaps he was just taking advantage of your weak little heart like always. 

being at home is supposed to bring you comfort, there’s nothing like it. 

your home is like a safe, full of precious memories locked away with a key that only you possess. if you push through the door you’re met with a gust of nostalgia — the sounds of childlike laughter as undertones to scolding parental voices. as you drift down the halls there’s works of art made with crayola ink on the walls, and sometimes there’s tears in that one little spot at the top of your stairs. 

spices from your favourite home cooked meal burning on the stove top usually waft throughout the place, calming you down and filling you with warmth. you can’t remember a time where the smells and aromatics of your home have failed to bring you back down to earth. they trigger waves of fondness and flashbulb memories of your father teaching you and suguru as siblings how to cook whenever your mother fell ill.

your home not only hosts heartfelt conversations between four people who love each other, but it speaks too. it would creak and groan and squeak with every step you took deeper inside, with each time you ran through it while being chased by your brother. 

every single one of these moments, these sounds and scents they’re all part of a precious network that make up the foundation of your home. plaster made of love and bricks born from happiness, all glued together by layers of forgiveness in the form of concrete. it’s a house full of happiness, your home is. made by your parents, suguru and you. 

but right now you feel as if the roof of your home has caved in.

you’ve been sitting outside of suguru’s bedroom for hours now. your pretty dress soaked in blood and your face in your own tears. you can hear him on the other side of the door — he’s talking to someone, no doubt looking for last minute flights or begging for one of his client’s private jets. and you’re terrified because if he leaves like this you might never speak to one another again. 

you don’t want that, you can’t have that.  

you wonder where he might go — if it’ll be some place you always planned to visit together when you were old enough. a trip abroad was something geto had promised you if you graduated. now here you were. graduated but without your big brother by your side. Paris, London, New York — all places you were meant to explore with your eldest sibling by your side. 

though at this very moment, he was all the way on the other side of a door he had no intention of opening.

it’s like the entire world has collapsed and caved in on you — there’s a hole starting to form in your heart that only suguru can fill and until today, as he begins to pull away from you, you hadn’t realised how much space in your life he had occupied. you leaned heavily on your brother, he shielded you from experiences like this time and time again, and all you could do in return is fuck his best friend. 

some grateful little sister you are.

your face burns with a fresh set of tears, hot at the centre and underneath the fat of your eye bags. you’re so dependent on him, you wonder how you’ll cope when you move cities and start a real life outside of the shelter your brother had worked so hard to build for you. the very idea makes your insides twist and stomach turn. you’re not even sure if geto will want to keep in touch with you once either of you are gone.

leaning against his door, you paw at your wet face — hoping and praying that he’ll hear you out. that he won’t leave you, because without suguru you have no one. 

wait… that’s not true.

there’s still satoru. if he even wants you after all of this. if you even want him.

why is it that he chose this way to confess his love for you? why is it that he dragged you away from a family dinner to fuck you instead of just being honest? why was satoru so selfish? 

he hurt you over and over again — left mental scars on you and treated them like open wounds, adding salt and citrus and whatever would sting just to make sure you kept on needing him and only him. he hurt you to make sure you loved him back and you’re sure he had no idea. there’s an underlying guilt coursing through the blood in your system — guilt in letting satoru take all of the blame for falling out with suguru. especially when he defended you against your brother’s switch up and acidic, toxic words. especially when he’s posted up in a hospital bed for his battle wounds — split lip, possible concussion, bruised eye sockets. 

your white haired lover had tried to be brave for you when you’d left him at the hospital to come home and change. there was terror evident in each dark blue fleck in his baby blue eyes, anxiety wrapping around his heart at the idea of you just leaving him there. he thought you would be leaving him forever.

fuck. gojo was good to you, in so many bad ways. you wished that you’d never met him, that you’d never fallen for him either. 

before your mind is fully able to slip away to your lover boy, the door to suguru’s bedroom clicks open softly — forcing you to scoot away from him so that he has room to step out. neither of you move — frozen in time like marble statues carved millennia ago. you look a mess and suguru looks like a clean slate. where your dress is blood and snot stained, your makeup smeared and eyes puffy — your older brother has been washed free of tonight’s grime, his cuts are plastered over and his knuckles bandaged. not a single dark, obsidian tendril of his hair is out of place either — perfectly tied back into his signature bun.

most importantly, there’s not a trace of bitterness on his face — almost as if the events of tonight never even happened. 

as if you never ruined his friendship with gojo or ruined his perception of you — his little sister. 

yet, there’s a glum sort of gleam to his dark eyes, he’s tired — he’s been thinking too hard, going through every step over and over again trying to piece together what he missed. why would you hide this from him? you hate how lost suguru looks. that you did this to him too.

he doesn’t want to fight, not with you. not after satoru.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, shifting to sit on your knees in front of him — as if you’re about to bow for geto’s forgiveness. “i should have never… i didn’t mean to—“ you pick at stray pieces of skin by the bed of your nails, flailing for words as you slip under the surface of your painstaking emotions. “i’m…i’m…”

geto crouches down to your height, using one hand to wipe the tears from your big bambi eyes and another to tilt your chin up towards him gently. “sorry.” he finishes for you, flashing you his classic, loving smile. “it’s okay…just give me time.” 

you nod shortly, your features twitching as you fight back the urge to cry again. 

the older male clicks his tongue and shakes his head, the pad of his thumb swiping under your eyes gently. “oh no, none of that, don’t cry for me.” as always, suguru comforts you and tends to you like a flower in need of nurture. “i’m sorry too, little one.” 

“a-are you leaving?” 

“for a little while.”

your face crumples once again. “suguru—“ comes your childish huff as he stands — but before the elder geto can get very far, you latch onto his wrist in one last clingy attempt. 

suguru shakes his head one more time, more vigorously as if he’s trying to get rid of his own tears — knowing that if he lets you continue and beg him to stay, he won’t have the chance he needs to heal.  “i can’t. i need time,” your brother says firmly, almost as if he’s scolding you. “you can’t expect me to get over it just like that. it’s not fair.”

you’re fully aware of that, selfishly choosing to ignore the fact — just like satoru would. life isn’t fair, so you suppose this is life’s own way of punishing you for hurting your brother and causing him grief. 

“sugu, please don’t go.” 

“give me a few weeks, a few months even, and i’ll come back. i promise.” he sighs in response, practically begging you at this point. it kills him to leave his younger sibling just as much as it kills you to see him go. however, every time suguru lays his eyes upon you, all he feels is betrayal and loss. all he can see is his best friend’s hands ruining you. corrupting you. it almost makes suguru resent you, for taking a bite of an apple from the snake he’d warned you about. hating you is the last thing suguru wants. “i can do that for you because you’re my little sister. because i love you and deep down, you’re everything to me. but i just need to get over this first.” 

it’s because you’re his little sister that he’s even able to look at you. if you were anyone else, if you were satoru, dinner would have been it. 

“‘m sorry,” you whimper for the millionth time, in defeat, weakly allowing suguru to help you onto your feet. every fibre of your being tingles with the need to hug him, soothe him in the ways he would do for you — though you know better. that’s not what he needs right now. geto needs you to let him go.

“i know,” geto hums sadly. he tucks your braids behind your ear, thumbing your cheek affectionately “you should go to bed, it’s getting late.” 

he presses a lingering kiss into the baby hairs on the crown of your head as he softly grips your arms — using them to rotate you both until his back is to the door and yours is to the looming hallway. 

“goodnight,” you sniff meaningfully. a nostalgic feeling rushes over you, a sense of déjà vu — reminding you of the time when suguru first left for college. 

suguru smiles again, disappearing into his room with a whispered. “goodnight, little one.” 

and with that, he’s gone. 

you only hope that he’ll make good on his promise, forgive you and come back. 

because as the saying goes — if you love someone let them go. 

and if they come back to you, then they’re yours.  

after a hot shower, you find yourself taking heed of suguru’s advice and retreat back to the confines of your bedroom. 

childlike walls covered in ugly green no longer make you laugh or provide you with an uplifting and evocative solace. instead, you feel more cold and alone, desperate to leave this life behind and move on to bigger and better things. 

things that suguru had helped you to achieve.

while the scalding hot water had washed away any bloody stains from the night, any tears left on your cheeks — it did nothing to get rid of the slimy, gross feeling that you couldn’t seem to reach. it spread underneath the surface of your skin like wildfire through a forest, over each crack and crevice in your mind, slipped through the gaps in your rib cage to target your lungs like a respiratory attack. it was the shame, the guilt and the grief for someone you’d lost who was still alive. all three emotions plagued you. 

once safely behind your own bedroom door, shutting out your feelings about the night (after only half of them had swirled down the drain), you rest against its wooden frame — watching the droplets that were clinging to your supple skin drop to the ground as if they were the tears you didn’t feel like crying anymore. 

the towel around your exhausted frame drops to your ankles as you lethargically search your dresser for your favourite cocoa butter moisturiser. you work in silence, soothing the night’s wounds as you prepare for bed like your bother had said. you slip on a set of pyjamas, tie your braids back with silk scrunchies and just as you hit the lights — there’s a knock at your window.

you don’t move, waiting to see if it’s your imagination or your mind playing tricks on you again. 

but then, there’s another dull thud and you whip around from your dresser to meet a pair of clear-sky blue eyes that catch light under the shining moon does enough to illuminate every curve and slope to his dainty features. gojo looks a little compared to when you left him in the hospital — whatever fluids they’ve given him have helped with the hollow, purple-ish dark circles under his eyes. a few cuts still litter the angelic curve to satoru’s face, 

clutching the centre of your chest from under your sweatshirt (in an attempt to calm your beating heart) — you rush towards the source of the noise, tugging the latches of your window open. “satoru,” you breathe, your entire body going lax once you realise who it is.

“hey you,” he grins, holding onto the upper body panel of the window while he waits for your permission to come in. even though your room is dark, painted with tendrils of pitch black, the silvering moon does enough to highlight each cut or slash across his pretty face. “missed you.” 

slowly, you reach out to touch him. a single fingertip slides across gojo’s sharp jaw, so sharp that it could cut diamonds, before you angle his head from side to side — inspecting the injuries that hardly do anything to dampen his beauty.

“can i come inside?” gojo asks cautiously. “it’s kinda cold out here.” 

blinking, you snap out of your reverie and shift backwards on your bed to make space for satoru to come through. he crawls into your room quietly like he’s done many times before, sneaking over to see you during your breaks from university, and shuts the window behind him.

the both of you stand still in the dark, hardly able to see each other, hardly able to tell what the other is thinking. satoru wonders if you hate him, if this is it for you and he. should he touch you? would you let him?

and as for you, you’re stuck between a rock and hard place. your body, as always, calls for gojo — yearns to be near him as if you haven’t seen one another in a millennia. you know that he’s right there, you can hear his shallow and ragged breathing (probably from climbing up to your window) just centimetres away. he’s done so much to hurt you, ruin you… and yet you can’t seem to resist him or stay away from him when you know that you should. 

“i figured you’d want this back, that’s why i came.” gojo mumbles, dangling the chain of your necklace in front of you. you reach out to take it and your boyfriend lets go, but the jewellery hits the ground and you ignore it’s metallic clatter.

“satoru gojo…” you whimper, instead, taking a step forward into the void — your hands touch on his tiny waist before travelling upwards over his creased button up shirt to settle at the silver haired man’s broad shoulders. he groans low at the feeling of your nails raking across them from over the fabric, reaching higher to scratch at his scalp through the baby hairs on his neck. even though satoru remains stiff and hesitant at first, it’s an intimate moment, you’re hardly able to see each other while being pressed so close together — desperate and longing. gojo finally relaxes and grabs the fat at your waist, pulling your hips flush against his own. 

you stand on your tiptoes and use your grip on his hair to tug gojo down to your height — your lips a breath’s width away from each other. he’s so close that you can feel his breath coast along the seams of your lips. 

“what have you done to me?” you finish, whispering.

god, satoru wishes that he knew. he has no idea himself, the kind of power and hold that he has over you. “i don’t fucking know,” he finds himself saying, meeting you the rest of the way as he leans down to capture your mouth in a messy, searing hot kiss. “i don’t wanna know. just let me kiss you.” 

“mhm,” you all but whine in reply, wrapping your arms around satoru’s neck as he feverishly licks into the hot, wet cavern of your mouth. he feeds you his moans, one by one, pouring his apologies and unspoken words past your lips and into your soul. gojo can’t speak with your tongue in his mouth, he’s spent all night plagued by thoughts of you — wondering if he’d done the right thing by telling suguru, if he should have kept his mouth shut and his hands off you. if he should have done it properly.

he fucks everything up — especially the things that he loves. gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you were done with his bullshit now. he’d make the most of what you’re willing to give him for the moment. 

your lips grow sticky with the layers of spit swapped between you and you can taste him on you. in your mouth, on your tongue. he tastes like cold peppermint and wisps of pink wine. he feels like heaven under your fingers, his hair soft like the feathers of god’s favourite angel. you inhale the hint of his aftershave from his clothes, let it drift over your mind as well. he’s toxic, bad for your lungs like a vape or the chemicals from something else addictive. perhaps you’re smelling gasoline, the kind that satoru uses to start a fire in your lower belly. 

you shouldn’t be doing this, not again, not here, not with suguru across the hall about to leave you. but you can’t help it, satoru’s become your everything and you feel that you might not be able to live without him too. “satoru,” your arm shoots to wrap around his neck, hardly allowing the man to pull away from you and breathe. your movements are so fast that gojo stumbles and holds you tighter to catch his balance. though it might be because he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “satoru, satoru, satoru please…”

you’ve no idea what you’re even begging for, just chanting his name between bruising kisses, his tongue sloppily gliding over yours while he fights to pull away from your intoxicating lip locks. “don’t beg, baby,” he grunts hot and heavy, dragging a thumb over your swollen lips. “god, please don’t fuckin’ beg. you have no idea what it does to me.” 

“but i need you,” closing your lips around the tip of his thumb, you suck gently and it causes satoru to grow weak in the knees — dizzy from the sensation. “and i love you…”

“fuck, i—“ gojo swallows thickly, watching you like a hawk as you suck on him salaciously. “i’m right here…love you too. now jump for me, baby.” comes his loving command, pulling the digit from the prison of your hot mouth. if he could, he’d take a life sentence to stay between your lips. 

following gojo’s lead, you leap upwards into his hold — allowing satoru to grope at your fleshy ass as he hoists you up. a pathetic bleat escapes his saliva laden lips when your thighs wrap securely around his waist, pussy slotting against satoru’s crotch while he carries you to sit on your dresser. 

after setting you down, satoru places a palm on the mirror above your head, steadying himself as lust and love for you and only you overwhelms him until he’s nothing but a shaky mess. a man that could be brought to his knees with just one look from you. his head drops to your neck, breath balmy against the surface of your skin, long white lashes tickling you there too. 

he grows enchanted by your steady pulse, pulled in my each of your little whimpers. a mop of silver hair descends upon your flesh, the taste buds on satoru’s pink, eager tongue mapping out your taste to commit to memory. he wants to remember your flavour forever — treating this as if it’s the last time he’ll ever touch you. 

“you…you asked me what it is that i’ve done to you. ‘n i told you that i… fuck, that i didn’t know,” gojo pants, a rosy blush spreading across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. one “but i can tell you exactly what it is that you do to me...” your lover looks down at you like a man drunk or high, facing an addiction he won’t be able to quit. it does something to you, drags crazed sex hormones from your brain right down to your pulsating clit. 

the temperature in the room rises, boiling and bubbling — the particles in the air teaming with so much desire, buzzing around with an equal amount of kinetic energy. “you’ve ruined me,” he mumbles wistfully, a man charmed. gojo leaves a wet trail over your pulse point, slowly sinking his teeth into the area. there’s a gentleness to the way that he leaves his mark on you — panting like a wet dog as he does so. “you make me want to take care of you. you’ve got me so fucked up that i can’t tell what’s up or down….” he moans into the sweltering ambience of the room.

satoru forces himself against you and you gasp, head hitting the mirror because you can feel how hard he is against the crotch of your night shorts. “i want to be your everything,” his selfish tendencies seep through into his actions, love bites gojo works against your neck become more prominent and harsher — as if to get his point across or through your head. he wants you to know how much he wants you. “just like i know that i’m yours.” 

it’s true. he is. 

the very phrase make your hips buck up into his, a wave of slick pooling between your folds as they catch on the print of gojo’s dick. “f-fuck…” the tail end of your words end in a lost whine, too turned on by gojo’s desperation for you. only you. 

“i love you,” he whispers, voice silky smooth while continuing to ravish your neck and collar bones with shades of deep purple and blue. gojo’s large hands sneak down to your waistband to pull your shorts off and on instinct, you do the same — a nagging craving for more of him taking over you once again. “like no one before. dunno why i didn’t say it earlier, don’t know why i didn’t wanna show you off.” 

satoru tugs your panties to one side, wedging them behind your swollen pussy lips and exposing your quivering mound to the night air. even though the room is dark, he can still see the glisten of your arousal and whines wildly from deep within his chest at the sight — urging you to yank down his boxers too. 

circling your hips up to meet his, the both of you hiss in unison as your leaky, sopping sexes come into contact for the second time that night. it feels right. just having the length of gojo’s heavy shaft nestled between your sticky folds — it’s natural, as if you’re made for one another despite fate not wanting you to be together. his tip spurts early traces of precum against your slit in another form of marking, hot and creamy against you while the scent of sex begins to waft through the air. 

it’ll never matter how much you try to resist satoru, for as long as he’s around, you’ll fall into this twisted little routine — a repeat offence of betraying your brother. your nails come up to dig crescent moons into his milky toned and strong arms, gritting your teeth at the pleasure beginning to wash over and drown you. “s-shit baby—“ gojo mewls through a pout, finally giving up on biting and sucking at your neck to rest his sweaty forehead against your own. “just wanna be good to you…wanna be enough for you. p-promise i’ll give my everything just t’be the one takin’ care of you.” 

satoru slurs his words but the very promise sounds like a dream for you. it’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted out of the man, all you’ve ever asked for in all these two years of fucking around. to be equals, to be his partner for the world to see. although, a tiny seed of doubt begins to sprout in the back of your mind — you’re not even sure if it’s true, if satoru’s just making empty promises to get you like this, to manipulate you into staying after messing everything up with your brother. 

could he take care of you like suguru did? could you trust him to do that? 

your jaw goes slack as gojo drags his hips back and forth, back and forth, the pretty blue veins wrapped around his cock running over your clit — stimulating you into a weakened stupor. milky droplets of pre glaze the length of your dripping cunt, satoru rubbing it in the more he grinds into you. 

the dance of your bodies is toxic and never ending, the way you rock into each other in perfect harmony causing your dresser to delicately thud against your bedroom walls. “d-do you promise, ‘toru?” you gasp, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, as though to stop yourself from crying out loud from the electric current of pleasure he gives you. “y-you have to promise me.” 

silvery white brows knit together in the centre of satoru’s forehead, making him look pathetic. his hand forces it’s way between both of your tight and tangled limbs to grab hold of his bright red an, bulbous cockhead and circle it against your pulsating clit — dragging it up and down until it grazes your hole.

he damn near chokes on a glob of spit when you unconsciously clench around him — a loud simper bubbling up on the edge of his pretty pink lips. you’re quick to lean forward, practically slamming a hand over satoru’s eager mouth to keep him quiet. 

“p-promise me.” you repeat wetly, panting out the syllables as his dick slots perfectly against your wetness — both of you move with vigour and hushed whimpers and moans, satoru chasing after your soused sex like a hungry animal. you feel like you’re going fucking insane beneath him, watching as his tie to sanity starts to dissolve into thin air just from the way your pissy drips all over him with treacle-like juices.

no one on this earth could make satoru gojo give this up. give you up. not your parents, not his, not your brother. he’d rather die than let another person have you in the way that he does right now, where you rut your hips into his in one fluid motion. even if his heart breaks and his muscles ache — he can’t…he won’t stop giving you his all, won’t stop making you see fucking stars. 

a pressure begins to build just above your pelvis — brought forth by gojo bullying your pleasure nub with his sopping dick. it’s obvious how close you’re getting, your puckered hole gushing all over him and clenching on nothing. but it’s not like the man above you is in a better state — you’ve wrecked gojo, sent the man to high heavens and brought him back down to earth all at once. you’ve shown satoru that he’s worthy of being loved, that he’s capable of doing the same. the realisation only adds to the intensity of your sinful movements underneath the watchful eye of the moon. 

tears spring to his brilliant blue eyes, another clamorous sob breaking free from your hands over his mouth — making you clasp him tighter. everything is so intense and emotional, pleasure mounting like bricks for both of you. you’re shaky in one another’s hold, sticky against each other while your arousals lube everything up and make the whole ordeal wetter. it really does feel like a crescendo, the highest point of an orchestra’s song — where your bodies are the instruments played by one another. 

“satoru,” you repeat his name, warning him, begging him to focus through the thick fog of love, lust and desire clouding his brain. 

“i-i—“ gojo chokes down his feelings, slamming his other hand on the dresser behind you to trap you in underneath him — his hips never let up, however, roughly snapping into yours. “i promise. i promise, baby — always will, fuckin’ swear it.” he mumbles under his breath against the palm of your hand. 

and that’s all either of you need to hear for the dam to break. 

gojo’s rhythm falters, his hips stuttering as he succumbs to you and he hits his high. he lets out a cry of your name so genuine it pulls at your heart strings and you slip under the surface of ecstasy’s ocean — letting it fill your lungs as you cum too. you screw your eyes shut with the white light that blinds you through your orgasm — afraid of what may lie on the other side of this world-ending sensation. you don’t want the reality that awaits you. you don’t want to have to wake up from this little dream you’ve created with satoru. 

speaking of, the white haired man collapses over you in a fit of shakes and shivers — ropes of his white seed coating your aching mound. there’s so much for it, all caused by and for you. he doesn’t stop rutting into you, even though it’s sensitive, but wraps his arms around your head just to comfort you through it. hugging you to him while you both come down. 

he’s good to you, so good in this moment, but you have no idea if this will translate past tonight. 

“can i fuck you?” he asks through ragged breathing. “just a little bit, won’t be long. just wanna make you feel good again, you’re so pretty when you’re moaning and feeling so fucking good on my cock.” 

you wince with overstimulation as satoru starts to rub his shaft against you all over again, working it up to another ripe and pulsating erection just for you. earlier, you had wished the night would last a little longer, so you could love him a little harder and here satoru gojo was — making all but one of your dreams come true. “h-hurry,” you whinge into his shoulder, your teeth sinking into the milky flesh as though to keep yourself quiet. “don’t make me wait.”

“never baby, you’re too pretty for me to be patient,” in one fail swoop, satoru nudges his tip inside of you — instantly filling you to the brim with sticky, sloppy cock and drawing a needy gasp from you. “yanno, you’re so cute when you take my dick, such a beautiful baby. no one compares to you.” 

you know that he might just be running his mouth to fuck you sweet again, telling you all of the things you want to hear — but you can’t help but want gojo closer and wrap your legs around his waist, using the heels of your feet to push him closer to the point where his cum-covered cockhead is brushing against your womb.

with fluttering eyelashes, your mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape and a silent mewl escapes you — it doesn’t take long for your partner to fall into the perfect pace, fuelled by his desire to make you both cum again and his need to chase the stinging, delicious pain he gets from chasing overstimulation. “d-did you get tighter baby? you’re fuckin’ choking me out here,” satoru grunts against your sweaty hairline, ramming his hips into your clenching cunt that practically squirts a crude mix of your remaining orgasms. “you gonna milk me? make me fill you up again?”

“y-yes! please satoru…don’t stop!” you whine in harmony with his moans as they rise in pitch — higher and higher until they’re whistle tone, scratching tigers marks down his muscled back. the touch drives gojo insane, activating something primal in him to the point where you once again have to cover his mouth with wet kisses. if he didn’t love you, then the simple gesture wouldn’t cause him lose his tether to the real world fucking you like this. 

if it was only a touch, why did it ruin him?

juices and thick waves of cum that had once coated your throbbing cunt now slosh over your dresser that dully thuds against your bedroom wall — over and over again the faster gojo’s hips pound into yours. the sound of skin on skin overwhelms all of your senses, you’re stimulated beyond belief and you’re crying from multiple places…it’s almost too much for your poor ravaged body to handle. 

“i’ll n-never stop…fuuuck baby, as long as i’ve got you. ‘m never stoppin’…never stoppin’… n-never—“ your man chants, crying into your mouth and the hot lustful buzzing hair between you when grab his ass so that he can fuck you deeper. the slit at his cockhead is overloaded with viscous precum, smearing it along your inner and gushing ribbed walls — claiming your insides for the second time that night. 

your hips run from the pleasure that you crave and that satoru gives to you — cross eyed and panting from above you like a wet dog. there’s no need for him to run from you though, you won’t let him, not when he needs to be loved by you. someone who cares for satoru gojo despite all of his mistakes.  

a creamy ring begins to form at the base of satoru’s swelling cock, all white and frothy from where he’s been churning your guts up lovingly — pounding his earlier orgasm inside of you as if to make it stick. your clit grinds against his smooth pelvis, dragging you by the ankle to another world-altering orgasm and his balls slap wetly against the curve of your fleshy ass. 

satoru adjusts your body against the dresser so that the curve of your spine rests on the table and he’s able to hike your legs over his shoulders so he can bully that one special spot only he can reach. your knees meet your chest, breasts bouncing beneath them from the force of the white haired man’s chest. “g-god, you’re…you’re fucking me too good,” you gargle, hands in his sweaty mass of silver hair as you tug gojo implausibly closer. “i wanna cum…are you there? c-can i cum, ‘toru?”

pressing his forehead to yours, satoru nods feverishly. “right behind you, baby. where do you want it?” there’s a fluid roll to your man’s hips, his cock dipping in and out of your fluttering entrance so fast and so good that you’re sure you’re about to lose consciousness. “how about inside? how ‘bout you lemme leave somethin’ with you?” clear, thick strings tie your clenching pussy to satoru’s cum glazed shaft — glistening under the night’s natural light. you can’t wait for there to be more of him inside you. “touch your clit for me baby, make yourself cum on my dick.” 

you do as your told, fumbling between your salt-licked entangled limbs for the little nub between your swollen folds. immediately pressing down on it, you find yourself tightening around gojo while he grinds harshly against your g-spot and moans breathily against your Cupid’s bow since your foreheads are still pressed together. 

“s-sa…satoru! ‘m…i’m cumming!” one look at him, completely destroyed by you, is all it takes to send you flying to cloud nine — your stomach lurches and your eyes roll back into the dark depths of your skull as you cum one more time for your lover. clear streams of your essence squirt steadily from your cunt, bathing satoru in your orgasm while you succumb to overstimulation. 

his tummy and thighs are doused in your precious liquid as you quietly scream his name — all of these senses serve to trigger his own orgasm. “c’mon, that’s it little one. give it to me, i gotcha. want it all over me,” gojo smirks against your lips, peppering them with soft kisses while he wrecks and bullies your insides in an attempt to cum himself. “oooh, fuck. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

just like he promised, satoru gives you another hot load — failing to stop fucking you through either of your highs. he loses control of his hips, allowing them to languidly and uncoordinatedly rut into you — pushing his seed further up your silken walls until your cunt is covered in a layer of white. there’s so much of it that white drips his balls and inner thighs, as well as down to your puckered asshole. maybe it’s a little crude if him, but satoru’s lengthy fingers gather what you leak and smears it against your lips — kissing you there, sucking your mixed flavours from your eager mouth.

it’s only while you calm down from your orgasms that things start to change…drastically. 

even as satoru kisses your hairline and whispers praises against it, rocking you back and forth as you twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm — the fear comes rushing back. 

the post-orgasmic clarity hits.

the tears start flowing once more and you realise that you’re so, so tired of it all.

yellow and artificial light from down the hall seeps through the gap underneath your door, accompanied by footsteps. you’ve no doubt that someone in your home is awake, maybe your mum going for her late night glass of water, your dad for the loo or maybe even suguru. for his flight. the light is glaring and illuminates your room — highlighting the night’s mistake. satoru. 

when the footsteps recede and the light dims down, you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding — your silent tears blooming into quiet hiccups that you have no control over. “h-hey,” he cups your face, wiping at your eyes just like your brother had done before shutting you out. “hey pretty girl, what’s the matter? did i hurt you? was that too much—?”

slicing through gojo’s words, you find the strength to speak even if it hurts to reveal the truth. it’s like ripping off a bandaid, “how do i know that you really mean all this? that you’re going to keep your promise, ‘toru?”

“w-what?” 

“i can’t do this!” you snap as loudly as your voice will allow you to. you don’t want to wake anyone else up nor get caught by your brother with your pants down for the man who betrayed his trust. not to mention, nearly getting him to hate you. “you promised to take care of me. just like suguru would, while we were basically having sex — how am i supposed to trust that?” it sounds crazy coming from your mouth, doubting satoru even after the intimate moments that you’ve just shared. however, you’ve been around this block with him too many times, you know the signs off by heart, you’ve memorised the cracks in his resolve as if they’re those in the pavement. the ones people tell you not to step on to avoid bad luck. 

you feel unlucky, you feel played and naive. you saw all the warnings and wilfully ignored them because you liked the way satoru loved before he knew the weight of the word. “how am i supposed to trust you?” you add, voice wavering.

satoru can’t seem to find an excuse — maybe because his brain is too fucked out or maybe because he’s shocked that you’re not just blindly trusting him anymore. he always thought things would be easy with you, that this nightmare would be over quick… and you’d take him back just like that. perhaps the dinner was your wake up call. “i don’t… i don’t know, i just…” he selfishly expects you to believe him. “you know me. you love me and i love you, can’t that be enough?” 

“you’ve never given me enough, satoru! it’s only now that you’re realising you want me as more than just your… your plaything! when i’m all you have left and suguru is gone with the wind!” you want to push him away but satoru is rooted in front of you, his presence sturdy unlike before. “you say that you love me, and i think i believe it…but it’s so hard to trust you. to not think that this is just an impulse.” 

“i’d wanna be with you even if suguru stayed, i always do. it kills me to be away from you!” satoru fires back, scrambling for something…anything that’ll make you see just how badly he means it when he says he loves you and wants you. that it’s not because he’s afraid of being alone. “i fucked this up, with you and with suguru. but i’ve known for a long time that i’ve wanted you, needed you to be mine and more than just a fling!” 

you look away, face twisting with pain. “i…i don’t believe that.” 

“then let me prove it,” the words rush right out of gojo’s mouth, faster than his brain can catch up — his anxiety spiking at the thought of you abandoning what you have together. abandoning him. “move in with me, come with me. i’ll get us a place in the city where your new job is, i’ll get my dad to transfer me to a closer branch of Gojo Corp… just let me show you how much i want to make this work — even if it means losing suguru.” 

satoru grabs your chin and tilts your gaze back over to him — but you can’t even look him in the eye. 

instead, your face burns, hot as your vision swims with another wave of tears. “i need your honesty, satoru. no more empty promises, no more false hopes.” he can see it in you now, how exhausted you are with the game of cat and mouse you’ve been playing all this time. you just want to be loved without constraint and satoru comes with so much baggage he’ll only weigh you down when you try to fly from the nest. it wouldn’t be fair. “i need you to choose. would you really give it all up for me? your reputation, your lifestyle, your best friend?” 

satoru’s wants to be selfish, desperately so. it’s all he’s ever known. taking and taking until his partner at the time is nothing but a husk of the person they once were. the difference this time is that he actually loves you, cares for you and would kill for you. he’s already taken so much from your youthful bright eyes. 

he would hate to take your spark too.

so satoru gojo decides to weigh up his options. 

either lose it all and keep you as his or lose you while the wounds he’s inflicted on everyone else heal. 

if you love someone, then let them go. if they come back to you, they’re yours. 

“then… then i’m sorry. for not being more honest. you’re right in every sense of the word…i can’t give this up,” gojo says simply, watching the light and hope in your eyes die out. “i think it’s best if we end it here and i let you go.” 

so reddit, AITA? 

UPDATE - AITA (27M) FOR FUCKING MY BEST FRIEND'S (26M) LITTLE SISTER (22F)? hey reddit. long time no see, i got a lot of attention on this post and undoubtedly you all decided that i was the asshole. i’ve done some work on myself and now i see that i was 100% in the wrong. i’ll spare you the boring details, because i know that’s not what you’re here for. i didn't want to leave anyone hanging, so here’s a quick update on where the three of us are at, one year later. i’ll start by saying — we broke up. i made the call so now she’s seeing someone else, and it’s serious. 

in another lifetime, satoru would have chosen to be with you. 

he’s certain that in another wonderfully weird and wacky universe — nothing would have stopped you from being that happy couple you wanted to be so badly. suguru might have even accepted your relationship, or maybe he would have died and his final wish would have been for the white haired man to make you happy. 

that is something satoru will never know. the idea comforts him whenever he’s left alone with his thoughts for a little too long.

however, this isn’t another lifetime. this isn’t a different universe. this is the reality where satoru gojo had broken up with you right after your graduation. 

he did it so that he wouldn’t come off as selfish — so that you had a chance to fix things with his ex best friend (and your brother) before it was too late. it was the least he could do after taking advantage of you, corrupting you against all of suguru’s wishes — but that didn’t make gojo any better of a man nor a knight in shining armour. he was still a shifty guy. 

still selfish, though, the decision was made with satoru still in mind. 

the night he’d broken up with you obviously ended in tears. to you, it was the end of your life — losing your first love, and you couldn’t even be blamed. you were only twenty two, your reaction was justified. suguru had been right in that sense, you were innocent and your heart needed to be protected, satoru had definitely taken advantage of that. 

you were kind enough to let your then ex stay the night — as long as he was back in the hospital and gone by the morning. satoru never knew what transpired the next day, as you were quick to block him on everything, and you had every right. 

he made his choice and his bed, now he had to lie in it too.

geto did leave, gojo knows that much, having seen his best friend take up work at a law firm in the US. geto had since been low contact with him. as did the rest of your family. again, it was for the best — even if it did hurt and cause gojo to bury himself within his father’s company, working himself to the bone every day just as a distraction.

through the grapevine of CEOs and higher ups, satoru learns that you’ve followed in your brother’s footsteps and made your way over to the land of the free. the magazine you worked for, Heavenly Pact, was getting ready to start an american edition and word had travelled that you were going to be the head of their new office on that side of the pond. gojo was proud, excited for you — you were excelling in your career all on your own, he was glad that he hadn’t ruined that for you too.

being in the states from time to time, satoru often wondered if there would ever be a time where he ran into you. would you be happy to see him? would you even want to talk? what would he even say?

‘i’m sorry for fucking you for fun and fumbling the bag — almost destroying your relationship with your brother when i caught feelings’ wouldn’t exactly fly well with you, he was sure.

it didn’t end up mattering anyways, because when gojo does eventually bump into you during business hours — he almost doesn’t recognise you. he’s in New York for some big, fancy corporate meeting about mergers and acquisitions, whatever his father had put into the file gojo was skim reading on his phone at the last minute, right before making his way up to the conference room. 

the elevator taking him there stood about six floors shy of satoru’s destination and a young woman enters like a hurricane — bringing with her a whirlwind of paperwork and notebooks. “i-i’m sorry.” the young woman stutters from behind her pile of belongings, out of breath from seemingly running for the elevator. “could you press the button for my floor? i would do it myself, but…” 

there’s a strain in her voice that makes gojo chuckle to himself, reaching past her so that his fingertips brush over the cool and luminous buttons for each floor. “are you going up?” 

“down actually… you?” 

“up ‘m afraid, but headed to the top floor. so this elevator’s probably going to head straight down to wherever you need to be afterwards.” he offers up apologetically. he swears the tonation to her voice sounds familiar, it’s soft and sugarcoated notes stirring up a warm feeling in gojo’s tummy.

“that’s fine by me, i’m running ahead of schedule anyway. floor eleven for me, please.” 

gojo does as he’s told, pressing the button for the eleventh floor — he has to reach past the woman in order to do so. his vigilant blue eyes catch a glimpse of the fashion photography stacked in her arms amongst sketches and other designs while the scent of her perfume strikes a dizzying recognition within the white haired man. undertones of vanilla with subtle floral scents make gojo’s stomach turn and light bulb memories of those precious two years flash behind tired cerulean eyes. 

he knows you, he thinks, all too well.

he says your name under his breath as though he’s keeping a secret and you freeze — no longer sorting through the papers flying about the place. when you look up and your eyes meet, you feel like the world has stopped spinning and that it’s just the two of you, frozen in time.

“satoru,” you breathe and quite plainly, as if you’re holding back any emotion you feel towards your ex…but then you smile, and it’s so vibrant satoru feels like he might go blind. not a trace of resentment in those big, beautiful brown eyes. “it’s been a while.” 

you’ve changed a lot in only a year. while your face still holds its youthful innocence, except your eyes reflect growth and maturity — perhaps a little bit of exhaustion from how hard you’ve been working on your new job. you’re still as beautiful as the day gojo left you, but perhaps even more so. your light  glows instead of dulls, most likely because you’re free. he’s no longer holding you back with a jail sentence of his selfishness. you’ve been able to live your life properly, just as someone your age should. 

it would be wrong for him to interfere with your newfound happiness.

turning on his heel, satoru faces forward and avoids your gaze — continually repeating the mantra ‘she’d be better off without you.’ to stop himself from reaching out and touching you like he so desperately wants to. he misses you, that much is a fact, but that doesn’t mean he no longer craves to be with you, breathe you in, be by our side.

satoru had let you go three-hundred and sixty-five days ago with the hopes of you coming back to him.  

maybe this was it.

you don’t take kindly to being ignored, leaning forward with your papers and files tucked securely against your chest in order to garner his attention. satoru adjusts his dress shirt, plays with his cuffs, inspects his surroundings — anything to avoid you and make a fool out of himself. or worse, mess everything up for you. his therapist had called his previous and past behaviours a self-destructive tornado — destroying everything in its path without regard.

he couldn’t go back to that.

“gojo, don’t pretend like i don’t exist,” you pout in annoyance — reminding your ex all too much of the times you spent together at your dorms. “i see you and you see me. we’re adults, surely you can handle a conversation.” it’s your teasing tone that finally makes gojo cave, sparing you a starry, blue eyed glance. 

he can’t help the cocky chuckle that escapes him, almost slipping back into his old and familiar ways with you. “you wanna talk to me that bad, huh? did you miss me or somethin’?” it’s a condescending and patronising thing to say — almost as if he’s treating you like a child. 

that makes you stand up right, heat rising to your cheeks at the familiar feeling — you’re not mad though. “i see you’re still as full of yourself as ever.” 

it’s satoru’s turn to pout this time, shifting his focus to a corner of the rising elevator . “h-hey! i’m working on it!” you’ve never seen him so nervous, not in your entire life of knowing him…but you suppose a lot can change in a year. you’re sure he’s different, just like you are. “yanno…therapy ‘n stuff. it helps. helped.” 

“oh yeah?” you hum curiously, knowing that he’s making reference to your break up, losing suguru. you don’t dare to press further, though. “me too.” the pair of you fall silent for a moment, sitting with the unaddressed awkwardness, the tension and unresolved feelings. “how…how are you? how’s things?” 

he’s surprised that you’ve even asked, let alone want to talk to him after everything he’d put you through. it’s weird but also clear that you’d been working on healing too — what’s a conversation between two adults then? “good,” satoru starts, though he’s being far from honest. he misses you. “i’ve been working to finally take over dad’s company. old man’s retiring, so i thought i’d play my part and be responsible for once.” 

you grin warmly at the news. “it sounds like you’re doing well, toru.” he nearly jumps at the familiar nickname, choosing not to respond. “not that you asked, but i’m kind of in the same boat? they’re putting me at a deputy manager’s position for my magazine’s new branch. i’m excited.”

“i’ve heard,” the words rush from satoru’s mouth before he can stop them, feeling sheepish as you raise a brow at him. “not that i’ve been stalking you or anything! you hear things when you’re at the top!” 

“yeah, sure.” you tease, enjoying watching gojo squirm.

a question he’s not sure he’s allowed to ask sits on the tip of his tongue and satoru pushes it around in his mouth hesitantly. “how…how’s suguru?”

you perk up, tentatively choosing what to say next. “o-oh…he’s good? we’re…our relationship is better now. it took a lot of work, but he’s healthy and happy. i… i think he misses you sometimes but, he’s still not ready yet.” 

gojo nods once and chooses not to press about his ex best friend further. “and how are you?” 

“m-me? i thought we’d just went over that—“

your ex turns to face you fully, a pleading look on his face that shocks you out of your casual stance. you can still see how much he adores you and cares for you, as if it never left his nature to want the best for you. 

“are you happy?” 

he asks the loaded question like it’s easy to answer and you do have to think about it. are you happy? you’ve been putting in the work to feel like that again, after breaking it off with satoru you were low. almost rock bottom. it was your first ever break up and it hit hard — not to mention you didn’t have your older brother to fall back on at the time. you knew it was time to stop depending on others, it was time to grow your own spine. you took to therapy, you learned your triggers and icks and red flags. it took time and patience with yourself, but here you were, a year later and a little happier than when you saw satoru last. 

“yeah,” you confirm with a shy nod, taking interest in your feet while you hide your smile. “i’m happy. with myself, my work and my partner—“ 

partner? 

“—you’re dating someone?” gojo quips as the elevator dings for the floor just before his. 

“ahh yes! it’s still new but… he makes me happy. yuuta okkotsu, you might have seen him around? i hear his family’s company and yours have done some work together.” you seem bashful as you talk about yuuta, someone you met through work, someone your age. a sense of pride in being together taking over you. you show him off and boast about him in a way that you wished gojo would have done for you. 

the revelation nearly kills satoru — it’s like a bullet to the chest or a knife to his heart. envy bleeds from the open wound, pours down his front and taints his blood stream. it fucking hurts to know that you’ve moved on to someone who treats you better than he ever could…but you deserve it. you were so good to him and to the world that it would seem like a crime for you to end up with someone who didn’t love and appreciate you in the ways that they should. 

that doesn’t make him feel any better though, it makes him feel as though he might die. 

when the elevator reaches the gojo’s floor  — he falters in stepping out without saying goodbye or replying to you. he would be doing it to hurt you, and to be spiteful or petty. just like back then. 

there’s still so much that he wants to say to you — so many things he wants to fix but he can’t shake the feeling that this was it. this was closure for the both of you. 

as he exits, he whirls around with enough time to spare before the doors close on you, and this chapter of both of your lives — just catching your bewildered expression. “thank you, for everything,” gojo calls to you fondly, watching your previous expressions morph into something soft and appreciative. “i…i really did love you, and if i could go back and do those two years over again. i’d be better, for you. i’d love you, properly.” 

the doors to the elevator slowly begin to close and satoru steps forward at the same time as you — it feels like you’re sharing one last goodbye. 

“i know,” you say without a trace of malice, a wistfulness in your voice. “i’m thankful to have been with you, because you taught me so much in such little time. i’d do it again, if we were better.”

a sad smile tugs at the corner’s of gojo’s pink lips. “in another life?”

“in another life.” you confirm, mirroring his smile as the elevator finally seals itself shut — leaving him with his reflection on it’s cool, metal doors.

it’s a shame that you only have one life, and that there aren’t any do overs. that way, everyone could live a life without regret — because gojo has his regrets, where he wishes that he loved you better, harder, more…so that you’d come back to him and you would be his.

 always.

so redditors and other losers lurking on this thread. that’s my update. i already know a lot of you are going to say that i deserve this — and i do. but i’m happy for her, for both of them and i wish them both all the best. whaddya say, am i still the asshole? 

END.

꒰ thank you for reading. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.

SCENARIO:

"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."

You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.

"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."

You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.

"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."

YANDERE REACTIONS:

Sukuna:

Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?

He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.

He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.

Kento:

Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.

But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.

"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.

Suguru:

"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.

"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?

"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.

"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.

Choso:

Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.

He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.

Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.

He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.

He hates this park.

"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"

Toji:

Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.

No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.

You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.

He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.

Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.

Satoru:

Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.

He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."

Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.

He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.

"Satoru??"

He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.

He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.

"Satoru!"

Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.

Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."

No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.

[fallinforgyu]

steamroller

pairing: mingi/fem!reader

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, college au, angst, smut - minors do NOT interact

warnings: no dom/sub dynamic, unrequited love, mutual loss of virginity, mingi has a massive cock, fingering, oral sex (f. recieving)

word count: 10k

a/n: i want to be honest with you guys, this is not a comeback. this is just a little fic that i’ve been working on for the past year or so that has brought me a lot of comfort, and i hope that it can do the same for you. i’m not sure if i’ll ever be active on this blog like i used to be, but please know that i will always be a writer and i will always read every single comment, reblog, and note that is sent to me. thank you for being my readers. i love you all so so dearly <3

“Hey, Mingi,” Yunho asked, staring at his distorted reflection in the back of a flimsy dining hall spoon, “Have you ever eaten a girl out before?”

 “W-What the fuck?” Mingi choked on his homemade sandwich. “Why would you ask me that?”

 “Because I want to go down on my girl on our next date…” he dropped the spoon on his tray, frowning as it clanged. “We’ve already fucked but I think it’ll be a nice way to show her I really care, you know? But I’ve never done it before.”

 “Wait-” Mingi dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning forward across the table. “You’ve had sex before?” 

 “You haven’t?” Yunho grinned.

 “Of course I haven’t, asshole! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 Yunho shrugged. “Guess I just didn’t think it was that important. What time’s your next class?” 

 “I’m done with classes for the day,” Mingi crumbled the tin foil that previously held his sandwich into a ball. “Yours is at 2:30, right?” 

 The older boy nodded and the two stood up, making their way to the nearest trash can.

 “Besides,” Yunho placed his tray on top of a growing stack of them while Mingi threw away his brown paper bag. “I thought you would’ve already fucked that girl you’re always with by now. What was her name again?”

 Mingi’s eyes widened as your name slipped past Yunho’s lips. “Sh!” he hissed, looking over his shoulder. “I told you to stop asking about her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

 “But you haven’t even tried!”

 “Yes, I have!”

 “Giving her a warm Tootsie Roll that had been sitting in your pocket all day does not count as trying.”

 “But I gave it to her on Valentine’s Day!” Mingi whined. “That counts for something, right?”

 He reluctantly met Yunho’s eyes, groaning when he saw his friend’s lips pressed into a thin line and his head shaking. 

 “You’ve gotta just tell her, dude. You’re never gonna know if you don’t try.” 

 He knew Yunho was right. If he ever wanted anything to change, he’d have to talk to you. Otherwise, he’d spend his entire life wondering what would’ve happened if he would’ve just had the balls to tell you. 

 He’d do it today, he decided, when he met you at your usual spot to walk back to your dorms together. That way, he could just run home if you said you didn’t feel the same way! Perfect plan. 

Mingi wiped his hands on his pants as he walked to your usual meeting spot, attempting to calm himself down and hype himself up at the same time. 

 He was really going to do it now; he was going to spill his heart out and hope that you somehow ended up in his arms. He’d start with how he’d loved you since you were kids when you took swim lessons with him at the community pool. You jumped right in the water when he was too afraid to duck his head underneath, and he remembered wanting to be brave like you. He loved you in middle school when you noticed him struggling with his math homework and offered to help. He loved you when you introduced him to Yunho, your friend from the student council who would end up becoming his best friend. And he loved you two years later, when he read your summer reading book aloud to you because staring at the pages made you sleepy. 

 He loved you last year when you went to prom together, even when you made a point of announcing to the rest of your group that the two of you were “Just really good friends.”

 Oh, well. He loved you when he gave you that Tootsie Roll three months ago, too.

 And he loved you now, when he approached you slowly and timidly, waving his hand to get you to look up from your phone.

 “Oh, hi,” you grinned, pulling the earbuds out of your ears.

 “Hi,” he smiled. 

 “How was… how was your day?” You asked the same question you always asked when you saw him, but it sounded different this time. It was like an exhale; Like you were breathing the words instead of speaking them. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought you were nervous. 

 “Good,” he nodded, gripping the straps of his backpack.

 “Good!” You repeated, clasping your hands together. “So…”

 He braced himself to say it. I’m in love with you. I have been ever since we were kids. I don’t want to be your friend, I want to kiss you.

 But you spoke first, and you said, “I think we should have sex.”

 He thought that he was having a stroke. He thought that you were having a stroke. “W-what did you say?”

 “Hear me out,” you waved your hands and closed your eyes. “We’re the last virgins in our friend group, right? And everyone thinks we’ve already fucked, anyway. So we could just do it together and get it over with so that it’s not as big of a deal when we do it with other people!”

 “I don’t…” His face felt like it was on fire. His stomach burned, and his palms were even sweatier than before. Get it over with?

 You sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped that on you so fast. I’ve just been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and…”

 Your voice turned into a murmur in the back of his mind as he analyzed your words. Been thinking about it for weeks now? Thinking about…

 “But you don’t have to decide now, okay? I just wanted to see if you would be up for it.”

 He slowly blinked and nodded back like an idiot. “O-okay. Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

 You nudged his shoulder with yours as you stood up to walk home with him, down the streets of the campus that had been home to you for the past nine months. “And there’s no pressure, alright? You can say I’m gross and you see me like a sister and I won’t be mad,” you laughed.

 You’re beautiful. I want you to be my girlfriend.

 “I’ll think about it,” he repeated.

 “Cool,” you nodded. “How’d that stats test go?”

You felt sick when you tried to go to sleep that night, nauseated with the thought that you might’ve just ruined everything. 

 You didn’t mean for it to come out so fast. You didn’t mean to make him embarrassed. You only meant to present the idea to him; a sort of business proposal that would benefit the both of you before you went back home for the summer.

 None of your friends were virgins anymore. Only you and Mingi were left, and you’d known each other the longest, anyway. 

 You turned in bed to stare at the pictures of the two of you taped to the collage on your wall. He stood next to you in a cheap rental tuxedo at prom, his mouth pulled into a gummy smile and his arm linked with yours. In another picture, he stood three inches away from you at your middle school graduation, a reminder of the awkward phase the two of you went through when you realized that he was a boy and you were a girl. 

 But there were pictures from before that time, too, like the one of the two of you covered in nasty, artificially-colored green frosting from the cake at Mingi’s Incredible Hulk-themed birthday party in 2005. Or the two of you dressed up as Cosmo and Wanda from Fairly Odd Parents for Halloween in fourth grade. 

 Your oldest friend. The person who’d seen you through every phase of your life – even your emo phase in seventh grade – and stuck by you nonetheless. 

 You thought of his full lips and his broad shoulders, his big hands. He was handsome, there was absolutely no arguing that, but he was also kind and gentle and sweet. He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the last to believe you when you told him you were fine. 

 Being his lover would be amazing, but not if it meant you couldn’t be his friend anymore. You wouldn’t fall unless he asked you to because losing him wasn’t an option.

 You’d tell him tomorrow to forget it. That it was stupid, and you changed your mind. 

Mingi told Yunho about it at lunch the next day. 

 “She talked to me yesterday,” he mumbled, picking the peel off of a clementine.

 “And? What’d she say?” Yunho leaned forward, anticipating Mingi’s answer.

 “She wants to fuck me.”

 Yunho let out a laugh of disbelief. “Don’t play with me right now.”

 “She does! She said, and I quote, ‘I think we should have sex.’”

 “Well,” Yunho chuffed, “There you go, buddy! I told you all you had to do was talk to her!”

 Mingi knew he didn’t really talk to you. He knew he just listened (well, half-listened, half daydreamed about what losing his virginity to you would be like) while you gabbed on about how it was a win-win situation.

 But Yunho seemed so happy… No, proud of him. His validation made Mingi feel good – like this was the right decision.

 “So, when are you going to do it?” Yunho squeezed a gluttonous amount of ketchup on his dry chicken patty.

 Mingi stared at his Ziploc bag of slightly brown apple slices. “Well… I haven’t really told her I’d do it yet.” 

 “What? Why not?”

 “I just didn’t know if it was right…”

 “The girl that you’ve been in love with since you were a kid wants to give you her virginity and take yours at the same time, and you don’t know if it’s right?”

 Mingi smiled. “Yeah… I know.”

 “Tell her today. I bet you’ll do it before you go home for the summer if you tell her today.”

 “Okay, yeah.” Mingi nodded, feeling more sure of himself. “I’ll tell her today.”

You had headphones in when you waited for Mingi after school, but you weren’t listening to any music. There was already too much buzzing around in your head, and music would only overwhelm you even more.

 You chewed on your nailbeds and rehearsed your script in your head. Hey, I was way off base yesterday. That was weird and I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Let’s just pretend it never happened and enjoy the summer, okay?

 You saw his sneakers first. They were clean, exactly how they looked when he bought them four months ago. 

 He was smiling when you looked up.

 “Let’s do it.”

 “Wait… really?” You tilted your head to the side, trying not to stare at his lips.

 “Yeah. You were right, it just makes sense for us to do it together.” His cheeks were pink.

 You slowly nodded, trying to convince yourself that it was a good idea again. “Right. Yeah… yeah, it makes sense.” You clapped your hands together. “Well! It’s settled then! Is Yunho leaving town anytime soon?”

 “I don’t… I don’t think so?” 

 You stood up to begin your walk home, and Mingi followed suit.

 “Well,” you sighed. “My roommates are probably home, but we should be fine if we’re quiet.”

 Mingi stumbled a bit as he walked. “Wait, we’re doing this right now? Like, literally right now?”

 “No!” you turned your head towards him as you spoke, but you didn’t look him in the eye. “But don’t you think we should do other stuff first? And like… work up to the big thing?”

 “Other stuff?”

 “Just to warm us up. You know, so it won’t be as scary when we…” You pictured Mingi naked and on top of you, his eyebrows furrowed and his pretty lips parted in a moan. You cleared your throat. “You know.”

 “O-okay,” he nodded. “Okay, yeah.”

 Mingi sat on your bed with his hands tucked underneath his thighs to hide how badly they were shaking. He looked around the room, jealous of your full-size bed. He and Yunho were in a shared room dorm, and his feet always hung off the end of his twin mattress. 

 Meanwhile, you scrolled through your phone to find a good playlist. You hit shuffle on the first one that suited your taste and a familiar song tumbled out of your cheap Bluetooth speaker.

 “You’ve kissed someone before, right?” You put your phone on your desk and walked to your bed.

 “Yes,” he nodded. 

 You narrowed your eyes at him. “Who?”

 He squirmed, adjusting his hands under his thighs. “My lab partner in ninth grade. She felt me up under the bleachers.” I was thinking about you the whole time, his internal monologue chimed in, the words never making it past his lips.

 “Gross,” you laughed, sitting on your bed. “Just let me lead, okay? Try to mirror what I do.”

 You reached up to hold his jaw, and his entire body stiffened.

 “Hey.” You waved your hand in front of his face. “Don’t be nervous, Ming. It’s just me. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want t–”

 “I want to!” He interrupted. “Please. I really want to. I’m just nervous.”

 You rested both your hands on his shoulders. “It’s just me,” you repeated. “The same me that I’ve always been.”

 Yeah, he thought, that’s the problem.

 “Just follow my lead.” You gave him an encouraging smile, which he weakly returned. “It’ll be fun, okay?”

 Mingi nodded, closed his eyes, and held his breath. A few seconds later, he felt your lips against his, and they were even softer than he imagined. He was sure that his were chapped, and he regretted not wearing lip balm more often like his mom always told him to.

 “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

 He opened his eyes at the sound of your voice and gave you a tiny shake of his head.

 “Do you want another one?” You smiled. 

 “Yes, please,” he whispered.

 You kissed him again, a little bit longer this time. Your lips naturally slotted with his, and butterflies filled his tummy when you rested your hand on his thigh.

 And then your lips parted. He wasn’t sure what to do other than follow your lead like you’d told him to, so he let his lips part, as well.

 His breath caught in his throat when your hand slid down to his neck. He barely had time to recover before you slipped your tongue in his mouth, playful and teasing and light. 

 “O-oh,” he breathed, a shiver running through his body.

 “How was that?” 

 “Good. I liked… I liked the part when you used your tongue.”

 “Shut up,” you laughed. “You wanna… keep going?”

 “Yes,” he nodded.

 And that was how Mingi had his first makeout session with his childhood best friend. He tried to keep his whimpers to a minimum, but it was hard to when your kisses progressively got more heated. Your tongue in his mouth was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and he blushed at your giggle when he tried to mirror your movements.

 “Such a fast learner, Ming.”

 “T-thanks…”

 “You know you can touch me, right? You don’t have to sit on your hands.”

 He looked down, completely unaware that his hands were still tucked underneath his thighs. They were both numb now, and they tingled when he pulled them up. He flexed and relaxed them to get his blood flowing again.

 “I’ve never…” he whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know where to touch.”

 You gave him a smile laced with what might have been pity and took his big hand in yours, moving it to rest on your hip.

 “What about the other one?” He whispered, even quieter than before.

 And then you were lifting his other hand and placing it on your cheek. His breath caught in his throat again.

 It’s strange to truly look at someone whose face has always been a constant in your life. You looked different, but also the same. People change, but they don’t. 

 Mingi was sure of one thing: your face was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He liked it ten years ago, and he liked it now.

 He kissed you first the next time. And since he’d gotten a little more confident, he let his lips part and used his tongue first, too. He kept his hands where you’d placed them and you kept yours around his neck. You kissed and kissed and kissed, and for now, that was enough.

It didn’t stay enough for long. You and Mingi practically ran to your dorm after school every day, barely taking time to breathe before attaching your mouths together once your door was shut. Your obsession with Mingi’s lips had only grown since you started spending most of your free time kissing them.

 His hands were nice, too. They’d gotten a little bit more curious since that day, sometimes giving your hip a gentle squeeze or moving up to your waist while he kissed you. Any noise you’d make would immediately be met with a “sorry” – a constant reminder that no matter how attractive the boy you were making out with was, he was still just the same old Mingi.

 And the little reactions he’d make were precious. He’d gasp when you touched his thighs, he’d hum when you stroked his neck, he’d whimper when you took his plump bottom lip between your teeth. The more you worked him up, the luckier you felt to have been the only person to have ever seen him like this. 

 You wondered how that could be while you sucked his lips. Plenty of girls had crushed on Mingi over the years. You knew because they’d always ask you if you were his girlfriend before they tried to confess to him. No matter how many times you told them you weren’t, he never ended up dating any of them.

 You detached from his lips with a smack. “Mingi?”

 “Mm?” He blinked, eyes slightly glazed over and lips swollen from kisses.

 “Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”

 His eyes widened for a split second, and he tried to cover it up by blinking a few times. “Uh… just never met the right person, I guess.”

 “But girls have been throwing themselves at you for years… You didn’t ever want to try anything with them?”

 “Guess I just wanted to wait for someone that I really…” he swallowed. “Trust.”

 That made sense. The thought of doing all of these things with a stranger was horrifying, but you felt safe with Mingi. You smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth.

  “I trust you too, Ming. Wanna try something new?”

 “O-okay, yeah.”

 You tapped his shoulder twice. “Lay down.”

 Like a puppy who’d just been given a command, he lowered himself against your pillows, swinging his legs up so he was laying on the bed. You swung a leg over his hips to straddle them, and his eyes immediately widened. 

 You’d never really taken time to admire how pretty Mingi was. His chest, which was more toned than you’d realized, was swelling and deflating as he attempted to stabilize his breathing. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed, and you’d be stupid to not notice the way his thick thighs tensed and relaxed underneath his black jeans. 

 And then you leaned down, hovering over him to study his face. You ran your thumb over his sharp jaw as you took in his other features; The same darkness in his eyes that wasn’t mysterious, but warm and inviting. The straight line of his nose, the pointed tip of it. The birthmark under his eye, the one on his cheek, the acne scars that dotted his cheeks like stars. Those fucking lips.

 Mingi was really fucking cute. Had he always been?

 You kissed him again, smiling when a little whimper escaped his lips. 

 “Cute,” you mumbled, unaware that the word had left your mouth until it was too late.

 Or maybe it was a good thing that you said it. Mingi’s response was enough to make you think that, at least. He moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed his hips forward against yours. 

 Mingi always got hard during your makeout sessions, but you always pretended not to notice to spare him from any embarrassment. However, pretending not to notice was incredibly difficult with his bulge grinding against your heat.

 He moaned at the stimulation, but quickly interrupted himself. “Ooh-sorry! I’m so sorry, that wasn’t on purpo–”

 You clapped a hand over his mouth. “I told you we have to be quiet.”

 He nodded, eyes wide as your hand stayed pressed to his mouth. You slid it down to rest on his chest when you whispered in his ear. “Don’t be sorry. That’s what I wanted to try.”

 You pushed and pulled your hips against his erection again in one experimental thrust, grinning when his eyes screwed shut and his lips pressed together. You cupped his face to guide his lips to yours again.

 It was as uncoordinated as two virgins could be. Though your lips easily moved together from a week of practice, neither of your hips were skilled enough to set any sort of rhythm. You just desperately grabbed at each other, groping and humping and kissing like your lives depended on it. 

 Soon, you could feel your soaking panties uncomfortably sticking to your core. The fabric gave you the tiniest bit of stimulation, dragging against your clit and ever-so-slightly teasing you. And the boy underneath you was driving you insane, with his messy kisses and his tiny groans. 

 You didn’t know what the end goal was, but you knew that it felt better when you grinded your hips faster, so that’s what you did. 

 “Ah-” You silenced Mingi’s moan by pressing your mouth to his again, sighing as he hummed against your lips.

 And then he whimpered your name. He’d said your name a thousand times before, but he’d never said it like this. Like it was a cry for help, a desperate plea for something. The sound fueled the fire of your desperation as you continued moving your hips, hoping to God that he’d say it again.

 And he did. You attached your lips to his neck and he whined your name once more, followed by a tiny breath of, “O-oh, god…”

 His little sounds were getting better and better. Your name slipped past his lips between breathy whimpers and choked hums, and you kept licking and sucking his neck while you grinded your clothed, soaking pussy against his painfully hard, just as clothed dick.

 Finally, you took pity on the poor thing. His moans were getting increasingly desperate, and you could tell that he was doing everything in his power to keep them quiet. You hovered your lips directly over his ear.

 “What’s wrong, baby?”

 “A-ah-mph!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he writhed on the bed, pressing his hand to his mouth to keep his pathetic noises in. His whole body was shaking when you sat up.

 A wet patch on the crotch of his jeans made the dark fabric even darker, and a horrified expression washed over his face as your eyes immediately landed on it. If he would’ve looked between your legs, he would’ve noticed that your shorts were just as soaked, but he didn’t. He only saw your dumbfounded expression as you tried to figure out what you were supposed to say. All that came out was, “D-did you just…?”

 You just made a boy cum. From kissing. This had to have been the best day of your life. 

 “I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing you off of him. He immediately stood up, locating his jacket on your desk and holding it in front of his pants as he slid his bag over his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He looked down the whole time, never letting his eyes meet yours as he slipped his way out of your bedroom door. 

 “Mingi!” you called two seconds too late. “You’re not going to–” 

 You sighed, letting your voice get quiet. “Help me?”

 He didn’t come back, leaving you with soaking panties and an unsatiated pulsing between your legs that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

You texted him the next morning.

 It’s not a big deal, Ming. Do you want to come over?

 He didn’t respond. You went the whole weekend without hearing from him, and even when you waited for him at your usual spot on Monday, he didn’t show. You sent him another text. 

 Stop being stupid. I miss you.

 He didn’t respond to that, either. By Tuesday, you were so anxious to see him that you waited outside his lecture hall after his morning class, scanning the crowd of faces for him. He wasn’t difficult to find; his tall frame easily distinguished him from the rest of the crowd, even with his shoulders slouched. He made eye contact with you and immediately put his head down, walking faster. 

 “Mingi!” You yelled, weaving through the crowd to follow him. 

 His pace quickened, his long legs carrying him out of the brick building and through the grassy common area, skillfully dodging flying frisbees and strategically-hung Enos. 

 “Mingi! This…” you panted. “This isn’t fair! Your legs are longer than mine!”

 He flinched with each call of his name, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t slow down. You picked up your pace to a jog, huffing as you tried to catch up to him. “MINGI! Stop fucking ignoring me!”

 After quickening your steps to a borderline sprint, you finally got close enough to grab the handle of his backpack, yanking him backwards and causing both of you to collapse on the lawn in the process. 

 “Ow…” he whined, rubbing his butt and attempting to brush grass off of it.

 “You…” you breathed. “You fucking suck. Why aren’t you talking to me?”

 “W-What do you want me to say? What the hell am I supposed to say after humiliating myself like that?”

 “I told you it wasn’t a big deal, stupid! I wanted to make you feel good!”

 His ears burned as he looked at you with wide eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and shock painting his face. 

 “And you… you didn’t even stay and help me. I was more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life, and you just got up and left! Right after I helped you finish! Who the fuck does that?”

 “I…” he breathed, trying not to pass out. He made you more turned on than you’d ever been in your life? “I didn’t think you wanted me to…”

 “You didn’t think I wanted to feel good, too?”

 “No!” he stammered, “No, I just… I didn’t think, I mean, I thought you would think I was gross.”

 You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Mingi, the entire point of having sex is to feel good. I didn’t think you were gross, I was jealous of you.”

 And see, that was where he fundamentally disagreed with you. As far as Mingi was concerned, the entire point of having sex was to be intimate with someone you love. Feeling good was just a bonus. 

 He loved you so fucking much. Knowing that you didn’t feel the same way about him made his chest physically ache, but he knew that you needed him, and that was more than he could have hoped for. If you didn’t love him, at least you could love the way he made you feel. 

 “I’ll make it up to you next time,” he assured you. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel good.”

 Your smile reappeared, and he felt like he’d been hit by a train.

 “Yeah,” you laughed, punching his shoulder. “You better. Wanna try that new boba place?”

The boba was mid, but it was nice to just be in Mingi’s presence again. He crumpled his straw wrapper as he told you about his weekend, how his mom’s birthday was coming up, and how things were getting more serious between Yunho and his girlfriend. 

 You liked the sound of his voice. You remembered when it used to crack all the time in middle school, but it had since balanced out into a smooth baritone, cascading your ears in warmth. 

 “Are you listening to me?”

 “What? Yes.” 

 “No, you’re not,” he scoffed. ”You’ve been staring at my lips for the past five minutes.” 

 “Yeah, because you have foam on them.”

 He immediately wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his ears flushing a bright red as he mumbled a disingenuous “fuck you.”

 The foam was only a scapegoat. You both knew how much you loved his lips. 

 “Speaking of fuck you…” You shifted in your metal chair. “When… when are we going to… you know…”

 “What?”

 “You know…” You looked to the side, your eyes widening. 

 His heartrate doubled. “Oh. Um… I don’t know. Was there… did you have a specific time in mind?”

 “Sorry, didn’t realize I needed to make an appointment,” you laughed. “I don’t know. I just… I want to. Soon.”

 He remembered your words. Get it over with. 

 “Okay,” he nodded. “We can. Soon.”

 You picked up his hand that was resting on the table to play with his fingers, pinching them between your smaller ones while you chewed on a ball of sweet tapioca. 

 He swallowed and watched you, his eyes glazing over. I love you, I love you, I love you.

 Your stomach dropped a bit when you met his starry eyes. You didn’t know why.

Two days later and you had Mingi underneath you again, his hands gripping your waist while you sucked on those perfect lips. 

 “Gonna make you feel good this time…” he whispered, trying to catch his breath between your feverish kisses. “Promise.”

 You just rested your hand on the back of his neck and sighed.

 “Can I… Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” He asked, his face a deep shade of red. 

 “Yeah,” you breathed. “It’s okay.”

 But he didn’t move, so you tugged on the hem of your shirt and lifted it off yourself. His breath caught in his throat when he saw your half-naked torso, covered by nothing but a slightly too tight purple bra that you got on clearance a few years ago.

 He shakily brushed a fingertip over the little bow in the center of it.

 Your face felt so hot you were sure water would boil if someone rested a pot on your cheek.

 “Can you… take your shirt off, too? This feels weird.” You covered your torso with your arms.

 “O-oh, yeah,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. Yeah.”

 You scooted back so that he could sit up, his trembling hands lifting his shirt over his head.

 His chest was flushed red. That was the first thing you noticed. And his belly was lean, but also soft and smooth, puffing and deflating with his shallow breath. 

 You rested a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He just watched you.

 “We’re not kids anymore…” you whispered. There was a sad tone to your words, almost as if you were grieving.

 “No,” Mingi shook his head, his voice barely audible. “We’re not.”

 It was a beautifully horrifying realization. The kid you used to make mud soup with was a man now, and he was touching you like you’d never been touched before.

 You kissed him then. To comfort him, to comfort yourself, to be closer to the person who already knew you better than anyone in the universe.

 You unclasped your bra and just let it loosely rest on top of your chest.

 “Hey,” Mingi whispered, “Just me, remember?”

 Right. Just Mingi. 

 You tossed your bra to the side, instinctively covering your boobs with your hands.

 “Please…” Mingi placed his hands over yours. “I want to see you.”

 He sighed when you removed your hands, just as slowly.

 “Pretty…” he mumbled. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

 You nodded and he ran his hands over the lines on your sides where your bra had been digging into your skin. You cursed yourself for not buying a new one before this. Maybe he’d like one of those silk push-up bras you always saw your friends wearing, or perhaps one of those flimsy lace bralettes that you saw in the windows at Victoria’s Secret last week.

 “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and the insecurity in your stomach almost vanished completely. Almost. 

 He leaned forward, cupping one of your tits in his huge hand and gently kissing the other. You gasped when you felt his wet tongue drag across your nipple, and he looked up at you for reassurance while you laced your fingers through his hair. 

 “Does that feel good?”

 “Yes,” you breathed. “Y-yeah, that feels good….”

 He gently latched his mouth to your nipple, sucking and then running his soft tongue over the flesh to soothe it. You didn’t mean to, but you arched your back, and his free hand found a place in the dip of your waist.

 You subconsciously tugged on his hair as he sucked your other nipple. He worshipped your tits, kissing, sucking, and licking them while you quietly moaned, grinding against his erection. You wanted to let him continue all night, but soon,  the pulsing between your thighs started to become unbearable. 

 “Ming… need you to fuck me,” you whispered. “Please.”

 He pulled back a bit, his plump lips glossy and his adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed.

 “Okay.”

 He didn’t move and you didn’t, either. You just looked at each other, breathing heavy though you’d hardly done anything yet.

 “... Nobody’s ever seen me naked before,” he said under his breath.

 You shook your head. “Me neither.”

 He kissed you again, but it was really just so that you wouldn’t watch him while he took his pants off. And you weren’t sure what you were doing, you weren’t sure why, but once both of your pants were off, you reached a hand down and felt him through the thin fabric of his boxers.

 He took in a sharp inhale. 

 “I’m sorry,” you said, “Is this okay?”

 And then you felt a large hand between your thighs, softly rubbing you through your panties.

 It felt so much different from when you did it to yourself. More pleasurable, sure, but also more vulnerable. More intense.

 Neither of you knew what to say. You felt how hard he was against your hand. He felt the little wet patch soaking through your panties. You both needed this desperately, and yet for a few moments, nobody moved. 

 “Y-you can take them off of me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and it cracked in the middle, but you were proud of yourself for getting the words out. 

 His hands shook when he slid them down your thighs. Before he could stare for too long, you slid your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down. 

 You weren’t sure if he was big or not. You’d never seen a penis in real life before, only in porn, and he looked about the same size as what you’d seen in porn. Did that mean he was big?

 He looked down, and you realized you were staring. “Sorry,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again. 

 “N-no, it’s okay. Is it… I mean, do you like it?”

 Your face broke into a smile. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. “Yes, it’s  lovely, Ming. Stop stressing.”

 You reached for a condom on your nightstand, closely inspecting the foil packet for instructions. 

 “I think I can do it,” he mumbled, gently taking the condom out of your hand.

 “You know how to?”

 “I think so.”

 After a few minutes of him fumbling with the latex, his lips were on yours again and you could feel his dick resting on your thigh. 

 “Are you ready?” He pulled back for a moment to look you in the eye.

 “M-mhm,” you nodded.

 He kissed your cheek and held his dick in his hand, aligning himself. A painful stretching sensation flooded your lower half as his thick tip poked at your entrance. 

 He inhaled shakily. “C-can I… can I push it in now?”

 You nodded. “I… think so? Y-yeah… go ahead…”

 He pushed his hips forward, and the sensation intensified when you felt his tip enter you with a pop. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. A horrid stretch, almost like a burn, splitting you open in the worst way. Tears pricked into your eyes.

 “OW! Ow, ow, ow, stop, stop, stop!” You pushed his broad shoulders away, whimpering when he frantically pulled out. That hurt, too.

 “O-oh my god, are you okay? What did I- D-did I do something wrong?”

 You looked down at his dick, which was still fully hard. He was big, you supposed. Really big. With his cock resting on your stomach, it went all the way up to your belly button. You felt stupid for thinking you could take him without any prep.

 And you also felt embarrassed. This wasn’t how your first time was supposed to go. This didn’t happen in porn. You were supposed to be screaming his name, he was supposed to be groaning yours and pounding you into the mattress. You were supposed to be making him feel good, and he was supposed to be doing the same for you. A lump formed in your throat and you attempted to blink the tears out of your eyes, which probably just made them more teary. 

 “No,” you breathed. “I think… I don’t think I’m wet enough.”

 He frowned. “Did we not kiss for long enough?”

 “No, no, we did.” Guilt crept into your chest. You knew this wasn’t how he pictured his first time going, either. 

 His frown intensified as a pained look washed over his face. “Are you not… is it because you’re not attracted to me?”

 “Stop it, Mingi. It’s not for any reason. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… we can get lube from the store and try again tomorrow, okay? I can jerk you off to help you finish if you want.”

 His heart ached. He didn’t want you to ‘help him finish.’ He wanted to make love to you, soft and tender and slow. He wanted to hold your face and kiss your forehead and tell you how much you meant to him.

 But his dick was painfully hard, and there aren’t many times that the love of your life offers to help you finish even though they don’t feel the same way about you, so he said, “Yes, please.”

 You wrapped your fingers around his erection, biting your cheek to stop yourself from crying. He bit his lip to do the same.

Mingi couldn’t make eye contact with the cashier when he bought lube from the drug store the next day. His hands shook as he put his card into the reader, and they kept shaking while he entered his pin number. The machine dinged and he yanked his card out, snatching the plastic bag from the cashier before they had time to offer him a receipt. His face burned the entire walk to your dorm and didn’t stop burning once he got there.

 His breath caught in his throat when you opened the door. “I got the…” he held the plastic bag up. “I got the stuff.”

 You laughed and stepped back to let him inside. “You make it sound like we’re about to do drugs.”

 Yeah, something like that.

 Mingi didn’t say anything when you sat him on your bed and straddled his hips. He whimpered a little bit when you pressed your lips to his, and you assumed that it was just because he was horny. 

 You held the side of his neck and worked your tongue against his, rolling your hips forward to grind against his growing bulge. He whimpered again, and you moved your face down to suck on his neck. 

 “I think you need to finger me first,” you whispered in his ear.

 “W-what?” He blinked up at you for a moment, his eyes wide and starry before he shyly looked away. “I’ve never… I mean… I don’t know how to do that.”

 “It can’t be that hard, right? You just take your fingers and, like… put them in me.”

 “I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”

 “Well… I’ll just tell you what feels good, okay? I do it to myself all the time.”

 His eyes snapped up again as he imagined you touching yourself. He’d thought about it before, late at night when he was jerking off, but hearing you say it out loud made him feel dizzy. Flames erupted across his cheeks again, and his body tensed.

 Your face burned with the realization of your confession. “Stop picturing it.”

 “S-sorry.”

 “I just need your fingers first, okay? I can’t… I can’t take your dick without some prep first.”

 It was like you wanted him to cum in his pants again. He nodded and reached for the plastic bag, fishing out the lube and taking it out of its little purple box. 

 “I’m sorry about yesterday, by the way.” His voice was quiet.

 “There’s nothing to be sorry about. That’s why we’re doing this together, you know? Because we feel safe around each other.”

 He nodded.

 “But for the record…” You lowered your head, still embarrassed about how yesterday went. “I’m sorry, too.”

 “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He smiled.

 You kissed him, and you were so glad that you were kissing him. 

 “I’m really going to need you to walk me through this because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.” His cheeks were a splotchy red. 

 You laughed. “I promise it sounds scarier than it actually is.” You pulled your shirt over your head, embarrassed again when you realized you were wearing the same purple bra that you wore yesterday.

 “Shit,” you breathed. “I meant to wear something nicer for you today. Sorry.”

 For me? Mingi thought. For me? 

 But he said, “I like this one. It’s cute.” And he touched the little bow again.

 “Thanks.” You climbed off of his lap to take your shorts off. “Lift your arms.”

 He obeyed, and you lifted his shirt over his head. It didn’t need to be off yet, you supposed, but you’d been dreaming about Mingi’s lean abdomen all day and you didn’t want to wait another second to have it under your fingertips again. 

 You laid down on the bed and slid your panties off, but didn’t spread your legs yet. You felt vulnerable again, especially considering that Mingi still had his pants on. 

 “C-can you–” you started.

 “Yeah,” Mingi nodded, already unbuttoning his pants. When they were off, he sat back down and gently brushed his fingertips over your thigh. 

 “Okay,” he breathed. “Tell me what to do.”

 “Just… just kiss me for a second.” The truth was, you weren’t even really sure how to give him instructions, and you wanted to buy yourself some time. You usually just felt around until something felt good, and you weren’t sure how to explain that to him.

 He kissed you. You decided that even if he was always too big for you, even if you couldn’t ever take his full length, you’d probably be just as happy kissing him and jerking him off like you did last night.

 You felt his hand on your inner thigh and you liked the feeling. 

 “Okay, so…” you inhaled deeply. “Just start with one. And you can just kinda… feel around? I’ll tell you what feels good.”

 “Okay,” he nodded, taking a deep breath, too. “Okay.”

 He dripped some of the lube onto his fingers, rubbing it with his thumb in an attempt to warm it up. Your body tensed as you felt his finger slide between your folds, shaking slightly as he rubbed you up and down.

 He seemed to stop breathing for a moment. His eyes just raked over your body, all wide and starry while he clumsily touched you. 

 “You’re gorgeous,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

 “M-Mingi, Ah-” You let out a tiny yelp when his fingertip brushed your clit.

 “Did I hurt you?” He immediately stopped, taking his fingers away. 

 “N-no, that felt good… really good…” You nodded. 

 He tried to find the spot again, clumsily drawing circles around it.

 “S-so good. Yeah, r-right there,” you sighed.

 His fingertip slipped a little too far to the left. 

 “N-no, back where it was.”

 After a few seconds of “Here?” and “No, here,” back and forth, he found the spot again and gently traced it. 

 Your eyes rolled back and closed as your body twitched, trying to get used to the sensation of being touched by another person. 

 Then his fingers slid further down, but it was intentional this time. 

 Mingi looked you in the eye and didn’t say anything as he gently circled his fingertip around your opening, coating it in lube and spreading your arousal at the same time. 

 You didn’t say anything, either. You couldn’t if you tried. But he understood your tiny nod and the look of desperation in your eyes, so he gently pushed his finger inside. 

 His long, thick finger went deeper than your own ever had, but it didn’t hurt. “O-ohh,” you breathed, shivering.

 Mingi was at a loss for words. Your pussy was hugging his finger so tight and you felt so warm and the tiny noises that you were making were about to send him over the edge. “Fuck…” he sharply inhaled through his teeth, staring up at the ceiling for a minute so that he didn’t cum untouched.

 “M-Mingi,” you breathed, “Go like this.” And then you held a finger up and curved it inward, and he immediately obeyed.

 Your back arched to a borderline uncomfortable degree as you let out a pathetic little noise, and Mingi seriously was on the edge of an orgasm already.

 “I-is that a sensitive spot?”

 “Do it again,” you commanded. “Mingi, do that again.”

 He did, and then he did it a few more times, pumping his finger and setting a rhythm. You were probably being a little too squirmy, but you couldn’t help it. Nothing had ever felt like this before. 

 “Fuck,” you breathed. “Add another one.”

 Mingi meant to ask ‘Are you sure?’ but his head was so fuzzy with arousal that he just obeyed, pushing his middle finger in next to his pointer finger.

 “S-shit,” you gasped, sitting up and holding his wrist. “Hold on a sec– fuck.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “It feels good,” you nodded. “Just forgot how thick these are.”

 He understood. He could almost feel you stretching out, and he suddenly felt horribly guilty for not offering to do this before he attempted to put his dick inside of you yesterday.

 “You’re doing amazing,” he encouraged you, nodding slightly. “J-just let me know when you want more, okay?”

 “C-can you…” You blushed, too shy to complete your sentence. 

 He knit his eyebrows at you, giving you an encouraging nod. He felt your pussy tighten around his fingers, and he tried not to groan.

 “What do you need, baby?” He soothed, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

 Your face burned. Mingi had never been more attractive to you, with his lips swollen and his cheeks flaming and his fingers deep inside of you. He was gently thrusting his fingers, massaging your g-spot, tracing your opening, and stretching you out all in a fluid motion.

 “C-can you play with my clit again while you do that?” You whispered. 

 He nodded immediately, smiling and circling his thumb around your pebbled clit. 

 “O-ohh…” you moaned, burying your face in his neck. “Oh my god…”

 He swallowed roughly. “G-good…” He encouraged as he felt you slowly relax around his fingers.

 Your back arched, tiny little whimpers escaping you as Mingi made love to you with his hand. 

 And he was barely holding it together. He could feel the tip of his dick sticking to his boxers, precum smearing against the fabric and providing his cockhead with the tiniest bit of friction every time he moved his hips. 

 “Do you want one more? Or are you good with two?” His voice was hoarse. 

 “I d-on’t—“ You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you felt the tiny spark of an orgasm in your core. “D-don’t think I can take a third…”

 Mingi nodded, and then he kissed your forehead. He wanted to speak, but he was putting all of his effort into keeping up a steady rhythm with his hand and not coming in his pants while your tensed thigh rubbed his dick. 

 And then it was silent for a few moments, except for the quiet squelching coming from between your legs every few seconds. 

 “I think I’m gonna cum.” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. Focusing on that feeling, chasing it.

 Mingi swallowed, his breath catching. “Mm.” He hummed. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

 Your breath caught in your throat, the rest of it escaping in a choked whimper. “F-faster…” You breathed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”

 He nodded, quickening his movements. You leaned up, catching his lips in a messy kiss as you got closer and closer.

 You were quieter than you thought you’d be. As your orgasm approached, you hardly made any noise at all, save for a few little gasps. 

 Your mouth dropped open and you pressed your forehead to your lover’s, letting out one single moan as your orgasm clenched down on his fingers. It ran through your body in waves, your muscles tensing and releasing rhythmically.

 “My god…” Mingi groaned, continuing his movements. “G-Good job, baby.”

 You squeaked, gently pushing his hand away as you neared overstimulation. His brows furrowed as he worried that he’d hurt you, but you immediately eased his anxiety by holding the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his again.

 “Felt so good…” You mumbled through kisses. “T-think I’m ready now…”

 His heart fluttered as he felt your hand between his legs, stroking his sensitive thighs. And then he looked at you in a way that a boy had never looked at you before, with big, dark, sparkling, pleading eyes. Like he needed you.

 So gently, like you were afraid he’d break, you slipped his dick out of his blue plaid boxers. He was so hard, so sticky and pulsing that you were sure he must have been in pain. “Thank you for making me feel good,” you whispered. “I know it must have been hard to wait…”

 He shook his head, closing his eyes. “Don’t thank me.” He let out a tiny noise as you stroked him once. “I loved it,” he breathed. “I loved doing that for you.”

 You smiled, kissing him again. “Take these off,” you pleaded, tugging at the waistband of his boxers. 

 Mingi pushed them down, kicking them off the bed at his feet. And then he was fully naked, hovering above you, also fully naked. It should have been scary, but you’d never felt more safe. You reached your arms behind him, stroking his back before sliding your hands down to teasingly squeeze his ass.

 He let out a choked noise and you laughed. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You have a really nice ass.”

 He shook his head, laughing and kissing you again.

 “You’re really beautiful, Mingi.” You whispered, feeling another pang in your core as he groaned at the praise. 

 He reached a hand up, squeezing your breast as he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. His heavy cock rested on your belly, clear precum sticking to your soft skin. 

 You reached for the condom on the nightstand, carefully ripping it open. His eyes didn’t leave your face as you gently rolled it onto him, your small hand wrapping around his girth. You slid his tip between your folds, then coated it in even more lube. You knew it might still hurt a little bit, but you felt much more prepared for it this time. 

 “The second it starts to hurt,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “You tell me.”

 You nodded. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, and didn’t look away when his tip was aligned with your entrance. 

 But his eyes fluttered shut a bit when he slipped inside. He couldn’t help it.

 Your gasp made him open his eyes again. “Are you okay?”

 “Mmh–” You nodded, your voice high pitched and squeaky. He pushed forward, filling you, stretching you, making you his.

 “Mingi…” You whined, tears blurring your vision. “S-so big…”

 He kissed away the first tear that fell. “I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “Y-You’re doing so well.”

 He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his length. 

 “Is it…” You looked up at him with teary eyes. “Is it all the way in yet?”

 “Not yet.” His eyes were full of empathy and adoration. “Can you take any more? It’s okay if you can’t.”

 You whimpered. “S’big, Mingi.”

 “I know, baby, I know it’s big. Does it feel good? D-Does it hurt?”

 “It feels…” you trailed off. “It feels good but it hurts. I dunno if I can take any more.”

 “That’s okay,” he nodded, kissing your forehead. “You feel s-so good just like this.”

 “R-really?”

 “Yes,” he nodded. “You feel amazing. So… so fucking good.” He gritted his teeth as he spoke, shaking and sweating and forcing himself to not instinctively start fucking you hard and fast. “Can I move a little bit now?”

 “Yes,” you nodded. “Slow, please.”

 He pulled back so that only the very end of his tip was dipped into your opening, then shakily pushed forward in a single stroke, a little over three quarters of the way inside. 

 Tears stung his and your eyes. You felt better than anything he’d ever felt before, and the stretching sensation was starting to feel more pleasant than painful. 

 “I’m so…” he whimpered. “I’m so proud of you. You’re taking me so well.”

 “Mingi…” you whined in response, clawing at his back. “F-feels good.”

 “Yeah?” His eyes met yours. “It feels good?”

 “Mmm. I want… want you to fuck me. B-but slow, okay?”

 He visibly shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as his whole body became covered in goosebumps. 

 “T-tell me if it’s too much.”

 He attempted to set a pace then, slowly pushing and pulling his hips to halfway-fuck you as gently as he possibly could. Little moans slipped from your lips in time with his thrusts.

 “Ungh…” he whimpered, “God. F-feels so good. You’re so…” his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

 “Mingi…” You rested your hand on his cheek. “Kiss.”

 He didn’t need to be told twice. His perfectly full lips gently kissed yours, softly massaging his tongue into your mouth while he slowly pumped his cock in and out of you. You were embarrassed that you couldn’t take his whole length yet, but you decided in that moment that this wouldn’t be the last time you did this with him, and you had all the time in the world to train for the entirety of him. 

 “Fuck…” he repeated, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m… I’m close. I’m sorry.”

 “You are?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, a moan slipping from your lips when his thrusts got a bit faster. 

 That was fast, you thought, but it was his first time, you supposed. You hoped he had good stamina, because you didn’t want this night to be anywhere close to over.

 “I c-can’t…” His hips were starting to shake a bit. “God, you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight.”

 “Ming…” you whispered, holding his face. “I wanna make you cum. Want you to cum for me.”

 “Oh, fuck…” he whimpered. “God, f-fuck-“

 His voice cracked as his eyes squeezed shut, his belly tensing and his lips dropping open in a silent moan. 

 And for a few seconds, time didn’t exist. There was only him and you and your bodies, like this was how you were always meant to be. You felt his big hand on your waist and his thick length stretching you out, but you also felt that same comforting atmosphere that always followed him around. You saw his face, the one that you knew so well, contorted in pleasure, and you heard his familiar voice making unfamiliar noises. And there was no one in the world you’d rather do this with. There was no one else you wanted to kiss. 

 “I love you.”

 He cried out as he came, curling in on himself and burying his face in your neck as he pulled out so just his tip was inside, pumping the condom full of his load. 

 He pulled out and rested his cock on your belly, huffing in your neck as he caught his breath. 

 You stroked his hair and swallowed, a lump forming in your throat. 

 You said it. You told him out loud and you’d never be able to take it back. 

 He just kept breathing down your neck, sweaty and shaking and wondering if he heard you right. 

 “I– I tried not to…” you breathed. “I tried so hard not to fall in love with you. You’re my best friend and you mean more to me than anyone else. But I just…” 

 You swallowed. There was really no going back now. 

 “I see you smiling and it hits me like a steamroller. Like my chest is knocked in and I can’t breathe. It feels… It feels like I’m suffocating and I don’t know how to stop it or make it go away.”  

 You felt his large hand hold your jaw, and his lips were on yours. 

 “Please… be my girlfriend,” he mumbled, breathless between kisses.

 You pulled back to look in his eyes. “What?”

 “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Please, please, please be my girlfriend.”

 Your face broke a little bit. “You have?”

 He nodded, and then his face broke, too. “Please say yes.” He held your face, looking deep into your eyes. “P-please, baby.”

 “Obviously yes,” you smiled, tears so close to spilling from your eyes. “Dummy.”

 “I love you,” he cried, kissing you again. “I love you so fucking much.”

 “Mingi,” you breathed, for no reason other than to say his name. 

 He kissed you and cried and you kissed him and cried, and he suddenly remembered what Yunho said. A nice way to show her I really care. 

 He kissed down your neck, across your chest, on your nipples, over your belly, until his shoulders were between your thighs.

 “W-what are you doing?” You asked, looking down at him a little too innocently.

 “I don’t really know,” he sighed, leaning forward and kissing your dewy pussy.

 “A-ah! Mingi!” Your legs instinctively closed around his head, and his big hands gently pried them open again. 

 “It’s okay…” he breathed, leaning forward again. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He sweetly kissed your inner thigh before spreading you with his tongue.

 You whimpered and squirmed, grabbing a fistful of his soft dark hair. 

 “You sound so pretty,” he mumbled, kissing your clit, “And you taste so good…”

 His thick, plump lips worked with his velvet tongue to worship your pussy. And it was loud, the room filled with wet sounds and Mingi’s groans, along with the pathetic little moans you were letting out. 

 You looked down at him. His ears and cheeks were dark red, his eyes closed, the sharp tip of his nose shiny and wet. 

 “T-that feels really good, Ming—“ You were interrupted by your own gasp as his tongue slipped into your entrance. 

 “You’re mine now…” His deep voice sounded gravelly and thick. “You’re all fucking mine…”

 “Mingi…” You whimpered, lacing your fingers through his hair as his lips sweetly sucked your clit. How did you learn how to do this? You wanted to ask. 

 But he was moaning against you again before the thought could finish. “I’m gonna do this every fuckin’ day…” He blinked slowly, a string of drool connecting his lips and your pussy. He used his broad shoulders to push your legs open even wider, taking a deep breath before diving back in. 

 This time, he slipped two fingers inside of you while he worked his tongue. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of you while he passionately used his fingers and tongue. 

 “I’ve dreamed of this…” He paused to kiss your inner thighs. “Wanted this for so long… needed to know what you tasted like.”

 “Mingi…” You breathed, watching as his pink tongue drew circles around your clit. “I-I’m gonna cum again…”

 “Yes,” he groaned, never coming up for air. “Please, baby. Come in my mouth. I wanna taste all of it, please… wanna lick you clean.”

 Hearing those filthy words come from shy, sweet Mingi’s mouth made your stomach flutter. Your thighs clenched around his head as he gave you the most enthusiastic slurp of the night, the otherwise silent room filled with the sounds of his mouth devouring you. 

 You moaned so loud when you came that there was no doubt in your mind that your roommates heard. Mingi’s groans of enthusiasm were hardly muted, either. 

 Your thighs twitched, your body shook and your hips pressed against Mingi’s warm mouth as your orgasm consumed you, and you’d never felt more adored in your life.

 And then he didn’t stop. 

 “Mingi!” You cried out, trying to squirm away from his tongue. 

 But he looped his arm under one of your thighs, keeping you pried open. He used his other hand to spread your pussy, groaning as he licked it again. 

 “My girl…” He mumbled, and he seemed to be drunk off the taste of you, talking to himself. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy…” 

 Your eyes widened and you twitched as his tongue flicked inside of you again. You’d never seen this side of Mingi before; you’d never seen anything close to this side of Mingi before… and you really, really didn’t want it to stop. But—

 “I’m really sensitive, Ming…”

 That seemed to snap him out of his trance a bit. He looked up, moving his body up to sweetly kiss your lips again. “I’m sorry, baby. You j-just…” He sighed, catching his breath. “You taste so good.”

 You smiled. “I really like it when you call me baby.”

 He kissed your forehead then collapsed on the bed, laying next to you. You rolled onto your side, gently stroking his belly. 

 “Do you feel good?” He asked softly, his full cheeks blushing. “Was that enough?”

 “Enough?” You laughed in disbelief. “It was perfect.” You nodded. “Perfect.”

 “I’ll always make sure you’re satisfied, okay?” Your boyfriend looked you in the eye, his brow slightly furrowed. “A-and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll make sure your belly is always full and your shoes never get dirty.”

 A kiss on his chin, your face in his neck. “It’s just me, Mingi. Just you and me.”

 “Just us…” He mumbled, “Just like always.”

 You nodded and then sat in silence, touching and being touched. He stroked your thigh with his pinky, his eyes on your lips. 

 “In our own little world. Just the two of us.”

[liliesdiary]

Fuck Your Boyfriend, You're Mine.

Yandere Rick Grimes x You

Requested by @versatilehater

cw: stalker!rick grimes, pervert!rick grimes, kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, mentions of cheating, age gap (legal), dark!rick, psycho beard rick, bondage.

word count: 1k+

note: I'm sorry this took forever to write, it was the holidays so I was busy <3 I hope you enjoy this angel 🎀

He was watching you through your windows once again, watching as you danced in your kitchen with that short blue sunflower dress of yours that you love to wear. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He couldn't stop thinking about your smile, your voice, and your doe eyes that scream fuck me.

He would do anything to have you on your knees staring at him and only him. He hated the way your boyfriend treated you, he was an asshole who used you for your body. Rick wanted nothing more than to beat him to a pulp and make him watch as he fucks your tight little hole. He wanted to kill him.

He wanted to treat you way better than your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. He wanted to spoil you and treat you like a doll yet you were taken by someone else.

His hands clench as he sees your boyfriend ignoring you as you tried to show him what you baked for him. The way your eyes saddened and filled with tears when your boyfriend walked away and didn't even glance at the cookies you made for him. You look up at the window and notice the older man staring, once again, it makes you shiver.

He continued to stare into your eyes, staring through your window. You started to have chills up your spine and closed the curtains. Rick was gonna take you away and make you his tonight.

Hours passed by and your boyfriend had left the house to hang out with his friends. Rick stood outside your window with a backpack full of tools, waiting for the sleeping pills he put in your water to work so he can take you away.

You were sitting on your bed reading a book decorated with a pink ribbon. You flipped the pages bored out of your mind as the smell of your candles filled your nose. You looked at the clock and noticed it was still early but you were so sleepy, more sleepy than usual. You turned off your candles and placed your book on your table. You cover yourself with your blanket, trying to get comfortable and hugging your pillow.

After a couple of minutes, you start to drift off to sleep. Your body laid peacefully on your bed, you looked so cute in your blue sunflower dress and white stockings . Rick stared at your sleeping body and started to climb through your window. He moved quietly, trying to not wake you up and scare you away.

He looked over you as you laid there, his hands touched your hair and gently grabbed a fist full. He smelled your soft hair, it smelled so sweet, like strawberries and cherries. He sat on your bed and slowly took off the blanket covering you.

He started to unzip his backpack, pulling out rope. He gently tied the rope around your wrist and body. The way the rope hugged your body made him hard. He tied a blindfold around your eyes and gagged you.

You started to move around in your sleep, feeling uncomfortable. He noticed and carried you bridal style. He was gonna take you to a cabin far away with him and turn you into his little doll.

He carried your drugged body into his rusty truck, laying you in the passenger seat as you were tied. He touched his beard as he stared at our sleeping body, you were so beautiful. He drove away to a cabin he found a while back before they arrived at Alexandria. He wanted to hide you where no one could ever find you. He wanted to keep you away so no one could ever hurt you.

An hour passes and he arrives at the cabin, it was dark and the cabin was a little creepy. He carried your body into the dark cabin and placed you down on the bed upstairs. He looked around and checked the place, making sure no one else was here to hurt you. He pulled out his gun and looked at every room with his flashlight. Then when he has cleared the whole house, he lit up some candles by your new bed.

He has managed to bring a couple of your belongings, like the book you were reading, ribbons and bows, your makeup, some candles, some of your favorite cooking supplies and stuffed animals. He was planning on going back and getting more, his backpack was already full of your belongings.

He put the gun down on the table and sat down by your bed. He stared at your body and noticed you were starting to squirm. You had finally woken up and you were terrified. You couldn't move and you started to freak out. He hushed you and tried to calm you down, “Shh don't worry sweetheart, I'm here.

You recognized his gentle and raspy voice, it was Rick. You tried to talk but the gag muffled your voice. Rick grabbed you jaw tightly, “I'll take off your gag if you promise you'll be quiet, doll. Be a good girl and stay calm.”

You nod your head in fear and he released his hand on your jaw and took off the gag. “Thank you.. can I please have some water?”

He smiled and got up to get a water bottle he had in his bag, he lifted your jaw gently and poured the water into your mouth, staring at the way the water flowed down your throat. “You're being such a good girl.”

Your legs twitched at his praise, you can't help but deny the way it made you feel. His voice, the way his rough hands felt on your soft face and that sexy beard of his made you so weak in the knees. You tried to shake the thought off, trying to stay loyal to your boyfriend.

He looked at your body, the way it was reacting to your touch, “You're so cute. I just had to take you away.”

You start to tremble, “Are you going to hurt me?”

“No sweetheart, I would never hurt you. I'll treat you like a delicate doll. But if you try to escape, I can't say I won't be rough.”

His response made you whimper a bit, frightened yet so turned on. The older man always scared you, the way he stared at you when you introduced yourself for the first time was full of lust and hunger. You knew that look yet you continued to visit him, baked him his favorite sweets and cooked Carl breakfast. The way the older man wrapped his hands around your body as you cooked for him made your heart jump, yet you always tried to reject his touches because you were taken. He always hated that.

Now that you were tied up and blindfolded in a place you don't know, you were terrified yet so submissive. You can't help but yearn for his touch, for his beard to touch your face as he kissed your soft lips.

He noticed the way your body reacted to his voice, “Does your body yearn for me sweetheart? You should have just asked.”

You whimper, “No, please don't touch me. I have a boyfriend.”

He scoffs and starts to touch your knee, “You mean the same boyfriend that's cheating on you right now?”

Your eyes filled up with tears, “What? What do you mean? He's at his friend's house.”

The older man shook his head, “I'm sorry sweetheart but that piece of shit is at another girl's house. That's why I took you away, that piece of shit didn't deserve you”

You whimper as he caresses your thighs dressed in your white stockings making you squirm and moan, “This feels wrong…”

“Shh sweet doll, just enjoy this.” he said as he gently took your stockings off your body. You squirmed and whimpered, your whimpers and pathetic attempts at untying the ropes only made him harder.

He grabbed your tear stained face and kissed you, “you're mine. Fuck your boyfriend.”

[antxlss]

north face jacket

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: while at a party at the boneyard, rafe gives you his jacket. you took it even though you aren’t very fond of him. this led to things you would’ve never imagined.

warnings: suggestive comments

words: 1.2k

a/n: i’ve been inspired by this jacket because rafe looks so hot in it. as always, thank you for reading! if you have any requests, please do not hesitate to reach out! i love you, enjoy!

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

my friend sarah begged me all week long to come to this kegger with her today. so i finally caved and decided to go. i’m not much of a party person, but what harm would one kegger do?

i was currently waiting on my porch. sarah, topper (her boyfriend), and rafe (her brother) were coming by to pick me up.

i grew up with sarah so i know rafe. it’s safe to say he’s not my favorite person in the world. he always picked on sarah and i when i would come over. normal asshole older brother things. ever since i’ve gotten older he’s taken a liking in me. flirting with me every chance he gets. i turn him down, obviously. he’s my best friends brother. i couldn’t do that to her. but god is he hot. but i know that’s just something i can’t do, so i ignore his advances.

after about 5 minutes of waiting on the porch topper’s truck pulls up. i step back and crack my front door open and let my parents know i’m leaving.

i walked up to the truck and saw through the windows that topper was driving, obviously. so naturally sarah was in the passenger seat, topper’s hand resting comfortably on her thigh. i opened the back door and there in all his glory sat rafe. i sat down and buckled in. we were off to the boneyard for a fun night.

the ride there wasn’t out of the ordinary, mostly just me and sarah talking out of our asses about whatever we thought of. the boys had their own conversation about how many birdies they’d had at their last golf match.

we finally arrived and the party was already in full swing. pogues, kooks, and tourons alike were all drinking out of red solo cups and dancing to music being blasted out of a single bluetooth speaker. we hopped out of the truck. all four of us standing at the edge of the fun.

“uh, so, what first?” topper asked.

“drinks, duh?” i said in an obvious tone. i made my way to the keg, topper, sarah, and rafe following behind me.

i reached the keg and generously filled my cup with the cheap beer. i downed half my cup before filling it back up. i made my way over to a clear spot where i unrolled a blanket i had packed. i sat down taking off my shoes and digging my feet in the soft sand. sarah, topper, and rafe came and sat down on the blanket as well.

“guys, let’s go dance.” sarah suggested, scrambling to her feet, her cup of beer still in hand.

i jumped to my feet “i’m in.”

sarah looked to topper and held her hand out. he gave her a look. “do i have to?”

she gave him her signature puppy dog eyes and within a second he was on his feet.

we all started heading closer to the group of dancing people when topper suddenly turned around.

“rafe, you coming bro?” he asked.

rafe waved his hand dismissively. “i’m going to get more beer man.”

with that we all continued to the “dance floor.” as soon as i got in the group, i felt all of their energy. i started dancing, downing my beer. grinding on guys i’d never talked to and probably never will. it was so electrifying.

after a few songs, i stepped out of the group to refill my cup when i saw someone staring at me.

rafe.

his eyes were following me as i went to the keg, as i refilled my drink, as i continued dancing. it’s like i could feel his eyes tracing down every curve of my body. he studied the way i moved it to the beat of the music. he watched every hand that accidently grazed me. his eyes bore into any and every guy that grabbed my waist and danced on me.

i watched as he walked back over to the blanket i had laid down earlier. i decided i was gonna say something to him.

i walked up to him, towering over him as he sat on the blanket. “are you done eye-fucking me yet?” i snapped.

“well, not really, i was kinda enjoying myself.” he replied with a smirk.

i plopped down beside him, the alcohol i had consumed catching up to me. “you’re disgusting.”

“i know you like when i say things like that to you.” he remarked.

i rolled my eyes and shivered as a gust of chilly wind blew by. my crop top and shorts weren’t doing me much good.

“are you shivering because you’re nervous from being around me, or are you cold?” rafe asked.

“i’m cold you dipshit.” i sneered.

i felt warm, fuzzy fabric drape over my shoulders. i glared over my shoulder to see rafe holding his north face jacket onto my body.

“what’s with the face, i’m just trying to keep you warm.” he argued.

“stop hitting on me.” i snapped.

“why?” he questioned.

“you know why. i’m your sisters best friend. i’m off limits. plus i don’t like you anyways.”

“whatever, just take the goddamn jacket before you get a cold or some shit.” he ordered.

i slipped my arms through the jacket, taking in the scent of expensive cologne, savoring the warmth “thanks.” i mumbled.

“you look hot in my clothes.” he smirked.

i reached over and smacked him on the arm. “i hate you.”

i know he’s off limits. i know i’m supposed to hate him. but no matter how hard i try, i just can’t. it was probably the alcohol, but before i even know what i’m doing i reach out and i grab his face. i crash his lips on to my own.

the kiss is sweet and passionate. like we’ve both been waiting for this for a long time. i feel his hands drop to my waist. i move mine to wrap behind his neck. i swing my leg over, straddling his legs, sitting in his lap. he finally breaks the kiss for air.

he presses our forheads together. both of us out of breath.

“i knew you liked me.” he teased.

i giggled letting my head drop to his shoulder.

“sarah, come on!” i heard topper yell.

“shit.” i quickly jumped off of rafe and casually sat off to the side of him. sarah and topper were walking up to us.

“guys, we are ready to go.” sarah groaned.

“yeah, okay.” i stumbled over my words, still shaken up about earlier.

rafe and i both got up and i shook out my blanket and folded it up. we all made our way back to topper’s truck. i grabbed rafe’s arm letting sarah and topper get ahead of us. i start taking off his jacket when he stopped me.

“keep it. it looks better on you.” he whispered.

i smiled. “you’re such a dork.”

“meet me in my room tonight” rafe knew i was staying the night with sarah, and i had some ideas of why he wanted me in his room.

“okay.” i replied. i pecked his lips and ran forward to catch up with topper and sarah.

what am i getting myself into?

[lanadelnegan]

My Girl

S7!Negan x Reader

Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??

OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.

Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket

A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.

"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.

Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.

I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.

The more I get to see him, the merrier.

I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.

"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.

"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.

"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."

His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.

I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.

"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.

"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.

"Hey, doll. Miss me?"

"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.

"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."

Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.

There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.

When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.

"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.

"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.

He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.

I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.

"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.

My face burns with embarrassment at his words.

"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.

"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"

Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.

"Negan... I need you."

"I know baby." He breathes out.

My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.

"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.

"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.

"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."

I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.

The big dick energy definitely checks out.

I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.

"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.

"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."

I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"

"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."

Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.

"Deeper, y/n." He demands.

When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.

"Bend over."

"W-what?"

"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.

I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.

"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."

He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.

"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.

I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.

I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.

He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.

"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.

"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"

My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.

"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."

"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"

I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."

"Then it's a deal, baby."

"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.

He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.

"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."

"Simon's keeping watch, doll."

His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"

He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."

My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.

"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"

I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.

"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.

He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.

He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.

My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.

"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.

"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.

"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"

"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.

He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.

I quickly get up and fix my dress.

"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.

Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.

"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."

"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."

"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."

Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.

"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.

"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.

Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.

"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.

"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.

"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.

Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."

My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.

Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."

"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.

I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.

A few hours later:

The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.

What if he doesn't come..

What if it's a trap..

What if he lied about everything he said..

Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..

Shut up. He wouldn't do that.

This is a bad idea. What am I doing.

Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.

"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.

"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"

I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."

He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.

"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"

"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.

"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.

He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.

My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.

"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.

He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.

"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."

He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"

I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."

I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."

"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.

I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"

That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.

I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."

He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.

"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.

Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"

"No, I want to."

He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."

I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.

"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."

"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.

I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.

“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”

I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.

Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.

“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.

I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.

"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.

My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.

"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.

I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.

“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.

He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.

“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.

He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"

I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.

"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.

My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.

I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.

"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.

"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."

"Touch me, Negan. Please."

"Please what?"

"Please Negan."

He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.

His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.

"Try again, doll."

"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.

"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.

I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.

"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.

My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.

"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."

He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.

"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.

After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.

"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"

Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.

"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.

This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.

"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."

He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.

"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"

"Yes! Please." I whine.

He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.

I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.

"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"

"He's not here, sweetheart."

"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.

"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.

"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"

"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."

"And.. and he gave it to you?!"

Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."

The next morning:

My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.

What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..

I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.

"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.

"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.

"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.

He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.

"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.

"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.

"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.

He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.

My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.

"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.

"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."

"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."

"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."

The End.

[homestylehughes]

forbidden love

pairing(s): nico hischier x fem!hughes sister

summary: what happens when they both want a love that's forbidden? 

warnings: fluff, sooo much flufffff. nicos a cute little baby in this. shy, nervous and cute reader. use of pet names and y/n. cussing, implied smut 18+ intense makeout, nothing too heavy.

wc: 3.6k 

an: hiiiiii loves!!! NICO FIC NICO FIC NICO FIC!!!! about damn time!! loveeee nico. hes so ?? to many words. i really enjoyed writing this. this is my first hughes sister story i've written, and i loveeee, hopefully you guys do too! i had trouble deciding if i should make this a cliffhanger or not... i kinda did but i think i want a part 2 if you guys want that!!! share your opinions, i love hearing them!! anyways i hope you enjoy, this might be my favorite piece yet. i hope you guys enjoy! like and reblog if you do, much love as always<3

happy reading <3

Nico knew he couldn't have you, but he wanted you anyway. Being Luke and Jack's older sister, made you off limits to anybody on the team, older or not. Nico had not always felt this way about you until recently. 

Ever since Jack got drafted to the devils, and then luke, he started to see you at more fundraising events held by the devils, team outings whenever you were in town visiting. Stealing little glances at you when you were in the same room, being pulled in by your smile and how you moved your hands as you talked to anyone and everyone. 

If that didn't already pull him into you even more, what did was, how you acted with the rest of the team treating all of the boys like they're our own family. Always greeting nico with a shy smile and hi, making conversation about anything, hockey related or not. 

Nico was enhanced by you, but he couldn't have you, which brings you guys to this moment. 

– 

“Jack if you don't answer your phone, god help me” I yell shout out, as I call Jack for the 10th time in the span of 15 minutes. Already calling Luke’s phone around 30 times, still no answer. My hands are shaking as I type out random masses of texts to both of them.

So maybe taking an impromptu trip to see my brothers wasn't the best idea. living in vancouver had its perks, being close to Quinn was one of them but i missed my two younger brothers, or maybe i should say assholes since neither of them can answer their phones. 

I'm standing outside their apartment soaked from head to toe, not thinking about the rain, nor was I thinking about the fact that they had moved, leaving me with no key to their place.

 So I'm stuck, knowing there's nothing I can do. I pull my suitcase over to the wall, slowly and dramatically slide down the wall, letting out a deep sigh as I do. My phone is almost dead, I'm hungry, jetlagged, annoyed, cold, wet and so many other words right now. 

Dropping my head into my arms that rest on my knees, deciding that this will be my final resting place, for tonight. I hear the elevator door ding open on the floor, not bothering to look up knowing it's neither jack or luke walking down the hall.

“y/n” I hear my voice with a thick accent say, knowing the voice I slowly lift my head up, locking eyes with the one and only Nico Hischier “Hi..” I mutter back embarrassed at the fact that look like a lost wet dog right now in front of him.

“Are you okay, did something happen?” he asks back as he begins to walk closer to me. “I uhh…wanted to surprise Jack and Luke but it seems like they aren't here.” i sign out, “to make it worse i don't have a key to their apartment, they're not answering my calls or texts. My phones almost dead and i'm covered in wet rain and i'm cold.'' I huff out the last part, my eyes beginning to fill with tears. I close my eyes quickly not wanting to look like a fool even more and cry in front of nico.

“Oh y/n”, expecting him to just stand there, instead he makes his way to me taking a seat on the ground next to me. "What are you doing nico?” I say, opening my eyes again, turning my head to lock my eyes with his. I get a good look at him for the first time since this, and fuck is he beatiful. 

His deep voice snapping me out of my trance as he speaks, “sitting with you, what else does it look like.” he says followed with a soft chuckle. “Nico, you don't have to do that, I'm okay, you can go home, I'm sure you're tired.” instantly feeling bad he's wasting his night away with me out here. 

“Jack and Luke would kill me if I left you out here by yourself”, “if I don't kill them myself” I say back my eyes now dropping back my feet. That earns a laugh from Nico, he has such a nice laugh, I think to myself. y/n, snap out of it and get it together. 

Sitting up straighter, pulling my head to lean against the wall, mirroring nicos position. “Are you sure? You don't have too, i'm not even sure when they'll be back.'' I say looking at Nico, who's looking back at me. “Well I do have another idea,” he says, licking his lips before speaking again. “I live right down the hall, if you'd like you can stay with me until they come back.” 

“Nico i can't do that, i feel bad”, “don't feel bad, i'm offering. I'm leaving you out here by yourself.” he repeated to me again. My heart picks up at his words. Taking a deep breath, I weigh my options in my head, knowing that this is probably the best option, but also my worst. 

How am i going to survive with very, sweet, hot, sexy, nice, handsome, pretty, swiss caption of the new jersey devils, nico hischier? I'm probably not, but at least I'll die happy and not here. 

“Okay, I'll come. Thank you so much nico.” I finally answered him, “dont worry about it, come on let's get you changed and warmed up i can't imagine how cold and tired you are” he says with a soft loving look on his face. Getting up before me, holding out his hand for me to grab, pulling me up from the floor. His hand feels so soft and warm in mine, I don't want to let go. 

Pulling my hand out of Nico’s, I go to grab my suitcase, to follow him down the hall, before I can fully grab it Nico has it in his hands. “Nico..i can grab my own suitcase” “i know you can, but i want to do it, so i am” he says as he looks back at me smiling. 

Ignoring how his smile made my whole body tingle, I sigh out and shake my head as a small smile breaks through on my lips, as I follow Nico down the hall. 

Stopping at his place, only a few doors down from my brothers, popping in the key and turning the lock, quickly opening the door. He motions for me to go in first, I give him a small smile as I enter the apartment. 

Taking in the place around me, pictures of his family and teammates over the walls, little nicnacs that fill the space, it feels like home. “Does my place give you your approval?” he says from behind me, “yes it does, jack and luke need to take a few home decor lessons from you.” that earns me another laugh from nico. 

“Let me show you the guest bedroom” he says, leading me through the apartment, down a hall, opening a door which I assume is in the guest room. “Here's the guest room, hopefully it's okay and comfortable for you, I wasn't expecting anyone over anytime soon and i-” “Nico'' I say, cutting off his ramble. “It's perfect, thank you” I say walking in front of him, pulling him into a hug. 

God, he smells so good. The way his warm body is wrapped around me like a warm blanket, I don't want to pull away, but I do after a few moments. 

“You're welcome y/n” he says looking at me again, i can feel my heart beginning to heat up. Clearing his throat before looking away, “the bathroom is at the end of the hall, my room is at the beginning of the hall.” he says, while pointing in the direction. Nodding in understanding even though he can't see me. 

“Feel free to shower and get changed, i'm going to head to the kitchen to start making dinner” he says now turning back to face me, “nicooo… you don't have to cook anything. You're already doing so much for me by letting me stay here, really” 

“Now what kind of host would I be, if I let a pretty girl like you starve under my watch.” Nico replies with a teasing smile on his face. “A bad one i guess” I smile breaking through my face. “You called me pretty” I said again, my eyes never leaving his. “I did, because you are.” he says before walking out of the room, leaving me stunned.

“Do you have any special requests for dinner?” I hear him shout from the kitchen, popping my head out of the room, “no! Surprise me!” I replied. 

This is dangerous, I can not think or find him attractive. He’s my brother's captain, teammate and also one of their closest friends. I have to keep it together. 

I gather my things to take a shower, making my way to the bathroom, shutting the door and turning the shower on. I then work on peeling off my semi- wet clothes off my body, the relief filling my veins once they're finally off, finally making my way into the shower. The hot water relaxes my body instantly. Throughout the whole shower all of my thoughts are about Nico, and I'm going to act once I get out of here, making me nervous and feeling things. Things i shouldn't feel. 

Turning off the shower, getting out and drying myself quickly. I began getting redressed again, clearing the mirror to take a look at myself, the old devils shirt i've had for god knows how long, that's probably three sizes too big, and shorts that you cant even see. Not bothering to pack pants, because I thought I would be staying with my brothers, not Nico.

 Inserucies start to plague my mind but I push them down. brushing my hair, fixing my shirt, deciding that it's good enough. Grabbing my things before making my back to the guest bedroom. dropping off my things in the room before taking a deep breath making my way towards the kitchen. 

Walking into the kitchen, nicos back is turned to me. A sight that I'm not complaining about seeing. The way his mussels are ripping through his shirt, is enough to make my mouth water. What I'm doing. Get it together. 

Walking further into the kitchen, I get a better look at what he's cooking, pasta boiling the water and it looks like he's making a type of sauce. Smiling softly to myself, at how sweet he is. 

“Do you need any help?” I say breaking the silence. Nico turned around quickly, a smile dancing on his face. “No, I'm okay, thank you though. How was your shower?” he asks before turning back to the stove again. 

“It was good, thank you” I say, still standing awkwardly in the kitchen, not sure where to go or what to do. “I can feel your nerves from over here y/n.” nicos voice breaks through the kitchen as he speaks, “I'm sorry, I'm nervous.” I nervously laughed out loud. “Why?” Nico says as he circles his way around the counter leaning against it, in front of me. 

“You make me nervous, I don't know how to act around you.'' I said truthfully to him, while looking in his eyes. “You make me nervous too, don't worry” he says as he looks me up and down, his gaze feels like summer sun on my skin, leaving trails of heat throughout my body. 

“Dinner will be ready in 15 minutes, feel free to take a seat, or keep standing there checking me out. Either work for me” nico says to me, winking as he walks around the kitchen again. I'm frozen in place. What just happened? Is Nico flirting with me? The wink? Holy shit.

My mind and body are on fire, as I walk over to the island to sit down. Tension fills the air, I sit there for a few minutes trying to wrack my brain of something to say.

Nico beats me to it before I have the chance to open my mouth. “You look different” he says, back still turned towards me. “What do you mean by different? Is that a good or bad thing?”. “Not bad,” he replies now, turning to look at me, “just older, I'm not sure how to explain it, but you look good.” 

“Thank you?” i say my cheeks are warming with blush. “You’re welcome” he hums back. “You look really good too” I say, Nico chuckles at me “shit, sorry. You look good like everything you know? Mussels, everything. I'm rambling, shit. this is embarrassing." I say, dropping my head into my hands with a groan. 

“I found it cute, don't worry pretty girl.'' Turning around to get plates out of the cabinet.  Pretty girl. Gosh he's making it harder to not go pounce on him right this second. 

“Dinners done, are you ready to eat?” he says a few moments later, nodding my head at nico as he looks my way. Grabbing two plates filling them with the pasta he made , which looked so good. My stomach growling, reminding me how hungry I am. 

Placing my plate in front of me, along with a glass of wine that I didn't even see him pour. “I think you might need this after today” he says justering to the wine, as he takes a seat next to me. “How'd you know?” I slowly laughed to him, “this food looks so good, nico. Thank you so much” 

“You don't have to thank me, y/n but, you're very welcome.” he says to me. “Now eat, I heard your stomach growl in the kitchen.” he says in a teasing tone. My eyes widened, quickly grabbing my fork, and digging in. the flavors, melting on my tongue. I internally moan at the taste.”fuck this is so good” i say with a mouth half full. Forgetting Nico is right next to me, I'm quick to cover my mouth with my hand. 

“I'm glad you enjoy it.” Nico says, smiling at me before taking another bite. Nico and I make small talk as we eat, talking about anything from hockey and my brothers to my job in Vancouver, and everything in between. Finding myself laughing and blushing more than I would have liked. Nicos charm pulled me in, and I couldn't find a care in me to stop falling for it. 

“Thank you again for dinner nico” I say as he clears the plates. “Of course, not everyday I get to cook for thee, y/n hughes” “shut up” I laugh back at him. 

“At least let me do those dishes, since you made dinner,” I say , making my way to the sink where Nico is standing. “No way, go sit back down,” Nico says, looking down at me. “I'm not taking no for an answer nico.” I say placing my hands on my hips, “fine, but I'll dry them.” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.

 “I know why Jack and Luke say you're bossy”. “Hey now. I'm not that bossy, shut it” turning my body away from him as I speak. Turning on the sink, grabbing the sponge and soap, and began washing the plates in the sink.

Nico just chuckles in response. We began a system of wash, dry, wash dry. The silence is comfortable as we work in peace. It almost feels domestic? Something that I could get used to. y/n stop thinking about that. It will never happen.

“y/n” nico says snapping me out of my day dream, “hmm?” “You've been washing the same plate for the last 2 minutes. I'm pretty sure that it's clean ""oh!" I say looking down at the practically shiny plate in my hands, “here you go I'm sorry” handing him the plate, our hands grazing, making my heart rate speed up. 

I have to get out of the kitchen, I say to myself. Turning off the water and drying my hands on the towel, stepping away from the sink, locking my eyes on my sock covered feet. 

“Are you okay?” Nico asks me, raising my head to look at him. “Yes I'm okay, just tired,” I say softly. “I think I might head to bed, see if Jack or Luke responded to me or not.” 

“Of course, feel free.” Nico says, while putting the dishes away. “Okay..thank you again for dinner, again. Goodnight.” I say as I make my way out of the kitchen, Nico following behind me. “Good night y/n.” he says to me with a small smile on his face, i smile in return and make my way to the guest room for the night. 

Closing the door behind me, I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in. making my way over to the phone to see that neither jack or luke have responded to me, a frown falling on my face. I call them each again, even sending Quinn a text asking if he's heard of them. 

Locking my phone, setting it back on the bedside table, I pull back the blankets settling into the bed. Slowly sinking into the comfort of the bed, I can feel the effects of today hitting my body. My eyes slowly closing, the one thing crossing my mind is nico. 

Just as I'm able to fully close my eyes, I hear a knock on the door. Getting out of bed, opening the door to see a now shirtless nico in sweatpants standing in front me. Hair messy, like he's been running his hand constantly through it. 

“Everything okay, did you need something?” I ask him, trying to keep my eyes on his face only. “Everything is fine, yes” he replies to me quickly. “Are you sure?” I ask again, feeling like he hasn't told me the whole story yet.

“Can I do something?” He asks me if I can feel his eyes looking at my lips, “yes?” I say swallowing quickly. Nico takes a step more, until he's directly in front of me, his face a few inches from mine. 

“I shouldn't want to kiss you y/n '' he begins, my breath hitching as he places both of his hands on my hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on them. “I shouldn't have these thoughts about you. Youre jack and lukes older sister, fuck i should be thinking about you like this.” he says now locking his eyes with mine.

“I can't help myself though, everything about you is perfect. I want you all to myself.” one of his hands begins tracing up my side, making its way to the side of my neck holding it place, lifting my head to meet his face better. 

“I want you so bad. I can't have you though. You're like a forbidden fruit that i want to taste and kiss and love so bad but i can't have you, and it's killing me.” he finishes dropping his head lower to mine, our faces now only a few centimeters apart. 

“Who says you can't have me?” I say softly, not trusting my voice, trailing my hands around his neck. “What if I want you too?” I whisper out before connecting our lips together. 

Nico is quick to respond, pulling my body flush against his, our lips dancing together. His hand trailing down to my ass, grabbing a handful of it before pulling away, smiling at me, “I've wanted to do that all day” he smirked at me, before connecting our lips together again. His tongue enters my mouth as we fight for dominance, deciding to let Nico win. 

I began to walk backwards towards the bed, hoping Nico would follow. Before I know it he's picking me up, throwing me over his shoulder, walking down the hallway and tossing me on the bed in his bedroom. 

I look at the room around me, taking in every detail, before locking eyes with nico who's now looking at me from above. The way his chain dangles in my face, and his brown eyes look in the dimly lit room, and how his chest rises and falls is a sight I want to see forever and forever.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” he smirks to me, “you're just so pretty” i say as i run my hands through his hair. “Isn't that something i'm supposed to say?” he asks as he begins to place soft kisses down my exposed neck. 

“Maybe you could show me instead?” I say, pushing my lips to his again. His hands quickly fell underneath my shirt, tracing up my bare sides. I remove my hands from nicos hair, pushing myself up from the bed. Pulling off my shirt, throwing it somewhere behind us, clipping my bra, tossing it in the same direction as my shirt. Now leaving myself completely bare in front of nico besides my shorts. 

Our chests are raising and falling together, our eyes locked. “y/n..” nico says to me breathlessly. “Fuck you’re so beautiful” his hands running along my bare sides and underneath my breasts. “Are you sure about this?” he asks me, our faces close together again, “i've never been so sure about anything in my life, Nico please touch me.” desperation in my voice dripping like honey. 

A growl like noise rips through nico, as he reconnects our lips together again. His hands are everywhere, heat spreading all throughout my body. I feel him everywhere. I want him everywhere. 

If he's a forbidden fruit, then why does it feel so good? 

[lssugaluv]

Things he says to you while doing the deed. 🤭

• Haikyuu x fem reader.

• Haikyuu + Headcanons.

• MDNI 18+

• Synopsis: He loves to praise you all the time, you deserve it. But he also knows how much you love dirty talks, especially when doing the deed. Each character has a different small story.

• Ushijima -Dominance.

• Kuroo - Smartass, Teasing.

• Iwazumi - The man is just so in love.

• Suna - Loves your taste, attached and in love.

• Osamu - Exes who are still in love.

• Daichi - Jealousy, dominance, petty.

• Contains: Timeskip HQ characters (all 21 or older), s3x talk, some cursing, dominance, small sex stories, oral s3x, some degradation, body praise, mentions of slight choking, pet names, temptation, teasing, pettiness, jealousy, some fluff (it’s not an Lssugaluv post without fluff.)

• Characters: Ushijima, Iwazumi, Daichi, Suna, Kuroo, Osamu.

• I choose these guys because I can just see their dominance in bed.

• Please let me know if you’ll want to see other characters.

Ushijima:

• “Look at me.”

• You will never ever get used to his girth. As many times as you’ve done it with Ushijima, the stretch is always something you can never get used too. Especially when he’s gone for a while due to his games and tournaments.

• Ushijima has you nice and wet making sure you’re prepped for his girth to rip you apart. As soon as you feel the tip in you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Open your eyes. I need you to look at me.”

As soon as you open your eyes, his are burning straight at you. He then continues to insert himself in you as you can’t help but gasp with widened eyes. He grits his teeth causing his jawline to pop out even more, groaning a bit, not breaking eyesight. He bottoms out and your arch your back , filling in the gap you two had. He loves to see you become a hot mess just for him.

Kuroo:

• “I Can Tell That You Want Me.”

• Oh, your favorite smartass. Kuroo and yourself were best friends with benefits back in high school. And you decided to lose your v-card with him a week after you guys graduated high school. You later on in time became a thing. You two work at the same place now and live together.

• Kuroo can be such a tease. Especially when it comes to pushing your buttons or getting inside your pants. No one at work actually knows that you and Kuroo are technically high school sweethearts. Not that you wanted your relationship to be a secret, but more because sex at work is always 10x better when kept in the DL. Plus, everyone at the office thinks you two are enemies, since you two tend to bicker a lot. Also, you guys agreed that if people find out, that’s fine.

Today you left 25 min after he did because you slept in, plus he had a big meeting right at 8 a.m that he couldn’t miss. You went to work in a sage green long sleeve that has fur on the collar and end of the sleeves. You paired it with a black mini skirt and see through leggings under. You didn’t have time to do your hair so your did a messy bun and paired it with accessories.

You had the whole office practically drooling for you. That was until your man spotted you. His hungry gaze couldn’t get off from you. You catch him staring from afar and text him.

You: “Do you need me to send you a selfie so it can last longer?”

Kuroo: “Damn, hot but always an asshole.”

You giggle at the message and look up to him and blow him a kiss.

You pass by him and purposely drop your pen in front of him. You bend down and he sees your gorgeous ass cheeks. He makes sure know one is around to pull you in and have you sit on his lap. Your back is facing his torso, rough hand on your neck, lips next to your ear. The other hand tightly around your waist, making sure you’re securely on him.

“I can tell that you want me baby.” He whispers into your ear, following a gentle bite.

“Can you really?” You slightly moan, pushing your ass into his now growing boner.

“Meet me at our spot in 5 min.” ❤️

Iwazumi:

• “I just can’t control myself when I’m around you.”

• You met Iwazumi through Oikawa last year and right away caught his attention. He is an ass to Oikawa but man does he love you. You guys finally decided to work something out and started to see each other. You wanted to start slow with him but life had other plans.

• Iwa is a man of consent. No matter how many times you’ve guys done it together already, he will never not ask for your consent first.

He came over after a week of not being able to see him due to your university’s schedule. As soon as you opened the door you noticed he had a boner already that was IN NEED of your attention. He pinned you to the wall at the entrance of your door. He had his hands all over your ass, mouth stuck on your jaw and neck.

“Baby, please, I need you.” You pant out after a steamy make out session.

“I’m sorry baby, we haven’t seen each other, and I know you want to catch up. But I just can’t control myself when I’m around you. Once you say yes, there’s no way I’ll stop.”

You nod your head yes as in giving him consent. You literally almost fold in half when he told you that. He picks you up in princess style and takes you to your bed, the rest was history.

Suna:

• “I love the way you taste. Never get tired of it.”

• When you first met Suna, he looked like a guy who just had no cares or worries in the world. Like you couldn’t break him, so you had no idea what he would think of or what type of hobbies he was in. Now you two have been dating for a year, and for some reason, every time he comes back from a tournament, he has to be buried in between your legs.

You were watching your favorite show when you hear a click on your apartment door. It was Suna who opened the door. He rushes to take off his shoes and leaves his bag and rest of his belongings at the entrance.

He doesn’t even say say hi to you when he right away pulls your pants & undies down and leaves you in your tee shirt with nothing on the bottom. You turn flush red from your face trying to push him away.

Without saying anything, he looks at you and pushes you down to the couch, his mouth connecting with yours. His tongue wrestles with yours and out of no where you feel a finger on your clit. He kisses your neck and then stops. He sits back up and taps on your thigh for you to do the same.

He puts that finger in his mouth, getting a taste of your delicious slick. His eyes almost stayed in the back of his head with that intense eye roll.

“I love the way you taste angel. I’ll never get tired of it.”

You turn even more red from embarrassment, and cover your face. He spreads your legs wide opened using his calloused hands. He wastes no time as he starts to lick your clit up and down, up and down. The warm sensation of his tongue making you almost cum right then and there. You use both your soft hands to palm his brown locks, and boy does he love that. He moans while eating you out, because he did miss your taste.

Daichi:

• “Don’t tempt me.”

• You have known Daichi for years. You two met in middle school and you know he can be a huge hot head. You know he can also be very territorial. Yet he is a huge sweetheart and very respectful. Now, after many years of dating him and being by his side, you are at a police academy ceremony, celebrating his new position as captain.

You are wearing a beautiful navy blue satin down. You look like a precious diamond, and of course Daichi is on protective mode. You see he was busy speaking to a small but important crowd during the cocktail hour. So you decide to go pour yourself some champagne.

As you were about to pour yourself some champagne, a big man stole the bottle from your hand. “If you’ll allow me too Miss.” He had such a husky tone. You turn to see a tall, handsome police officer who had a piercing on his right ear, a small yet curled mullet and gorgeous blue eyes. You stay in shock wondering how a handsome guy like him came across you.

You stood there frozen in place as he pours champagne into your cup. He then places the bottle back into its spot on the table and whispers something in your ear. That is when reality hit you when you felt a burning gaze heading right your way. You are completely flushed for your face, as you turn to see your boyfriend about to shoot the place down.

One thing about Daichi is, when he gets upset, it’s very hard to help him calm down. Another thing is, his aura is felt dozens of miles away when something/someone he loves is being taunted with. The tall male felt the same presence you felt and decided to casually walk away. He looks at Daichi as he walks towards him and places a hand on his broad shoulder. “Sorry man, didn’t know she was your’s.”

You quickly rush to the bathroom trying to disappear. When you hear the door knob twist and it was Daichi. You were looking at him through the mirror when he goes behind you. He places both strong arms around your small waist, chin on your shoulder. He takes some times to breathe in your beautiful scent. He whispers, “Darling, you know you look beautiful tonight?”

He places a small kiss on your jawline. “What did he say?” He then places another kiss , this time on your shoulder. You turn red all over again, “n-n-nothing.”

He sees this guy made you into a stuttering mess, which irks him even more. “Darling, I’ll give you one more chance, what did he say?” His warm breath next to your ear makes you so wet, you feel your about to drip on the floor.

Your silence was irritating him. “Darling, don’t tempt me.” His tone of voice drives you insane as he lets go of you and turns you around, lifting you up on the counter. He lifts up your gown as he unzips. He knows you want it, but since you don’t give him the answer he wants, you also don’t get what you want.

He rubs his angry dripping tip onto your clit causing you to be a moaning mess. You become impatient, wanting him to fill you up. You move your hips to line yourself up but he pulls away. “Oh no baby. I asked you a question twice. You didn’t answer and I told you not to temp me.” He caresses your cheek and gives you a passionate kiss. “Sorry baby.” He says as he puts his penis away and leaves you there a throbbing mess. “I’ll wait for you outside.” As he pecks your lips one last time.

Osamu:

• “Nobody understands your body like I do.”

• You and Osamu dated for a few years until a year after you both graduated from university, you two decided to part ways and stay friends. Due to his now growing business and your traveling job, you never saw each other which created unwanted distancing. You thought you both fell out of love, which you both never did. Osamu never wanted to part, but he has always respected your decisions and didn’t want to force you to stay.

You were invited to a party by your coworkers. You didn’t want to go but of course they forced you out. They wanted you to go out there and meet new people. You were in a cute black romper with your luscious locks nice and wavy.

At the party, you had about two drinks and were talking to your coworkers. A hot guy comes up to you and invites you to a drink. You are talking and all and that’s when you lose your mind seeing your ex boyfriend across from the balcony. “O-Osamu?” You think to yourself, completely shutting out the guy’s conversation. You excuse yourself to the bathroom and decide to leave the party and just go home. Seeing him after a year really threw off your whole vibe. And you couldn’t help how freaking sexy he looks now.

As soon as you enter your front home’s entrance, you hear a knock on the door. You open it thinking it was your coworkers to take you back to the party. Without knowing it was Osamu. Your eyes completely widened and you stay glued on one spot.

“What are you doing here?”

He walks into your home and hugs you.

“I’m glad I saw you. I really miss you.”

You couldn’t help but grow teary eyes. “Osamu.. I can’t-“

He cuts off your sentence by kissing you. He starts off with two small pecks and sees you don’t stop him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. He then kisses you, inviting his tongue in your mouth. He gains a sexy moan from you, knowing you’re already as horny as he is.

He pulls away gently to look at you. “Did my baby miss me too?”

You continue to kiss him to answer his question but then you go back to your senses. “Wait. We are broken up. We can’t do this.” You let go of him. He grabs you again, this time gently spreading your legs apart, brings his hand down to your underwear, moving it to the side. He slides one finger in, rubbing your clit in small circles.

You moan, hiding your face on his neck, taking in his scent you missed so much. You feel his finger slip out and you look up at him a bit frustrated since he stopped. You look at his finger that he’s holding up to your face.

“Ya see that angel? You’re completely wet. And it’s just for me.” His finger was completely soaked in your juices.

You become embarrassed and try to deny how crazy he has you. You try to deny that you miss him and his touch as well. You try to deny that you still love him.

He picks you up and takes you to the couch. He starts kissing you all over again, gently removing your clothes. He kisses your shoulders, your neck, your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. He kisses every part of your body. You feel like you’re about to cum, that’s how much you miss him. He undresses himself, showing off his gorgeous body. Now the two of you are completely naked.

He has you in the missionary position. He inserts himself in you, causing you to arch your back, moaning loudly. Your small hole is so tight, you cause him to groan onto your neck as he hugs you tightly.

Osamu starts to slowly pump in and out, in and out. Allowing to adjust to his size, it’s been too long.

“Ya think I don’t know ya baby? As soon as I saw you at that party, I knew you missed me.” His face a blushing mess. “Ya think ya can resist me? Ya think I can resist ya? As soon as ya kissed me, I knew ya wanted me.”

He thrusts himself hard in this sentence. Hitting your g-spot so delicious that you came after the last word.

“Nobody. Understands. Your. Body. Like. I. Do.”

[dearshelby]

Ahh Lora!! I’m so happy to see that your requests are open again!! 😄

If in bot to late, may I request "Promise this'll stay between us.” with Tommy and reader? If his two spots are taken (which I love that you’ve decided that), you can choose who you feel this prompt fits best with!

Thanks so much in advance! 🧡

Hello, K! Thanks for sending in something! I wrote this instead of going to sleep so I hope it's not too bad hehe (also, can I just say I LOVE your new theme? It's so clean, truly loved it!!)

Had you first | T.S

Prompt 4. "Promise this'll stay between us.” + Tommy Shelby. Contains Tommy being an asshole and to avoid a weird age gap, Finn is a bit older than canon, the reader is older than him and younger than Tommy.

“When is this girl coming, Finn?” Polly asked, annoyed by the family meeting her nephew suddenly demanded.

“Is this girl actually coming?” Arthur asked.

“I don't have time for this-” Tommy quickly snapped, getting up from his seat.

“She'll be here in a minute! Please, Tom!” the youngest begged and Tommy sat back down.

In a table in the corner of the Garrison, the family waited to meet Finn's new girlfriend, the boy was proud and anxious to introduce her to them, not so secretly yearning for some approval.

“Schedule a better time then-” Polly's ask was interrupted by the doors opening.

A girl walked in wearing a beautiful coat, her confident walk and polite smile made the Shelbys wonder how he managed to win her heart, she was clearly too good.

The boy stood up, greeting her with a chaste kiss, “Pol, Arthur, Tommy, this is her!”

Her smiled immediately faded as her eyes met Tommy's, but she recomposed herself, “It's so nice to finally meet, Finn told me a lot about you,”

“Yeah, he told us a lot about you too,” Arthur said, “never fucking shut up about you,”

“Arthur!” Pol scolded, “I'm sorry, dear, sit down, we were excited to meet you,”

“Why don't you go get the girl some gin, eh? Leave her to us,” Arthur told Finn, who quickly went behind the bar.

She sat, weakly smiling and trying to make the situation more comfortable, “Am I getting interviewed?”

“Well, we're trusting you with our youngest,” Polly smiled.

“How long you've been together?” Tommy finally spoke.

“Hm- four months,”

Finn came back to the table with drinks and the conversation carried on, the girl avoided eye contact with Tom and he went quiet again.

Surprisingly, they liked her, much like Linda and Lizzie, she seemed able to handle a Shelby man. Polly and Arthur didn't know it, but she had experience in this matter.

Half-hour went by and Tommy sighed, discreetly getting her attention and nodding out, as if he said follow me.

“I'll go for a smoke,” he announced and went outside.

After a few minutes, she finished her drink and excused herself, “I need to use the toilet,”

Using the backdoor to go outside, she walked around the pub and found him waiting by the entry.

“Tom?” she hesitantly called.

“I remember the best sex we ever had was on the private room,”

“Stop it,” she scolded.

“And when we were done you said you adored me,”

“Yeah, I couldn't say I loved you because I knew you wouldn't say it back,” she bitterly remembered.

“No, I wouldn't,” he agreed and pointed inside, where Finn was, “but that's low,”

“I didn't know, alright? I swear, the first time happened so fast, I didn't ask his surname and when I found out I-” she gulped, “I thought you wouldn't recognize me, thought you wouldn't even remember me,”

“Well,” he threw his cigarette away, “I do,”

Tommy got close to her, his hands threatening to touch her waist before moving to her face, caressing her cheek with gentleness that used to be reserved only for her.

“I remember everything,” he whispered.

Their lips got dangerously close, but she stepped backwards before he could make a move, “Is this a test?”

“What?”

“Are you testing if I'll be loyal to Finn? I will, I love him,” she spat out.

“No test,” he explained, getting close again, “just memories,”

“It's not enough,”

“Is it not?” he tested the waters, cupping her jaw and tracing her lips.

“Tommy,” she sighed, trying to resist him, “what about Finn?”

“What about him?”

“He's your-”

“I had you first,” he interrupted.

“And now? Do you have someone?” she touched their foreheads together.

It was his time to gulp, of course he did, not only Lizzie at home, but Greta and Grace at the back of his head. The problem was, Tommy hardly let go of people who were once his and when she walked into the Garrison, he could barely believe the young thing that helped him to forget the horrors of war in the last months of 1918 was back into his life.

“Everything,” he answered, “I have everything,”

“What do you-” her question was interrupted by his lips on hers.

Soft and tender, warm and entrancing, exactly like they remembered each other. She cupped Tommy's cheeks and swore there was the ghost of a smile on his face.

There truly was, he remembered every single detail of what her kisses felt like and it hadn't changed at all, it was like going through abstinence, something he spent too long without and now felt better than before.

Once they needed to breathe, she looked down at her own feet, ashamed. Tommy tried to touch their foreheads again, she didn't let him.

“Tom, I think we shouldn't-” she negatively nodded, “we should stay away from each other,”

“We did, for far too long,”

“Yeah, and everything changed,” she said, “we changed, Finn doesn't deserve it, there's no benefit for anyone so please, promise this'll stay between us,”

“...go back inside,” Tommy ordered, sensing words wouldn't be able to convince her at that moment, “we'll talk about it later, in a better, private place,”

“No, we won't meet again,” she stood her ground.

“No? If it depends on Finn you'll be Shelby soon,”

She went quiet and turned on her heel, ready to go back inside, before she was gone from his view, Tommy added, “And if it depends on me too.”

[tan1shere]

Slumber Party

Ellie williams x fem reader!

A/n: Hello my lovelies, first post on here (more active on wattpad) but thought I'd occasionally post here when I'm bored. If you have any requests at all they're definitely open! Also this is kinda short but I don't plan on making the next part as short. Enjoyyyy ☆°•

My masterlist

Summary: like the song slumber party. Ellie thinks she can treat you better then your shitty girlfriend

Warnings: smut, (not in this chapter) read at your own risk (mdni) Dom but soft, protective, ellie! Reader is quite innocent, is very soft also. Cunnilingus (duh- also not in this chapter) your girlfriend in this is an asshole. Abuse, somewhat angst, crying. Lmk if there was anything else!

Pt 2 here! ~ pt 3 here!

Ellie hated Isabel, your girlfriend. She treated you horribly, and Ellie really hated when you'd bawl your eyes out over the phone to her whenever Isabel would storm out of your shared apartment. She hated the fact anyone would make you cry. She never liked seeing you unhappy. Isabel shared this hatred. She never liked you hanging around Ellie, even if you have known Ellie almost all your life. She would scold you after everytime you and her would hang out. You'd come back to the apartment smiling. "What're you smiling about?" You just smile more happy to tell. "Ellie she makes the funniest jo-" "I don't like you being round her Y/n." You would always stare blankly at her, struggling to find the words, leaving your mouth open while you ponder.

Today was not off to a great start. Ellie had just been over, you two were having such a great time. "I should probably get going squirt." She would flash her smile at you, ruffling your hair slightly, as she stood to go to the door. Ellie was a bit older then you, and come to think of it so was Isabel. Let's just say you had a thing for older ladies. (Only by like 6 years) You also stand up, seeing her out and saying goodbye. But as you open the door you're met woth those dark brown eyes. Isabel had just arrived back from work. She glares at the auburn haired girl, making her way inside. "Well hi to you too." Ellie scoffs then looks at you. "Text you when im home." You give her a small nod and a smile before she leaves to her car. You turn around to be faced with a stern Isabel. "You know how I feel about her being in our home. Especially when I'm not here." You never really talk back to Isabel you always apologize and go into the kitchen to make food. She was truly a bitch and she started showing her true colors the moment you two moved in together. You never understood what you would do so wrong. You made every dinner. Every lil food she'd want. The laundry. Just to please her. And although it'd work, it'd never last. "I'm sorry Iz.. She just really wanted to show me this art she was working on and in person. Nothing more I swear." She let's out a scoff. "Why should I believe you it's almost every day you spend with her. It's sickening and pathetic." You stare at her as she says that. She would always make you feel stupid. When in fact you were quite smart you knew what most things meant. Maybe not so much bedroom stuff. But you were book smart nonetheless. Speaking of bedroom. You were basically a virgin. You've kissed Isabel many times done a lil something here and there but it was definitely not much. So you were certainly not confident on that subject. Although Ellie would tell you all sorts of stories about the girls she's been with. It fascinated you to learn all these new terms and what everything was. "I promise to talk to you before hand next time-" She instantly cuts you off. "Why are you still standing here. Cook, I've been working all day." She spits going to your guys shared bedroom. You sigh doing so. And that was your life.

It was maybe a couple weeks after, you had felt like you were coming down with something so you decided that bed rest was the best thing. It was now 3 in the afternoon. You were sleeping in your bed when the door busted open. "What the fuck are you still doing in bed it's almost 4!" Isabel was home and not happy. You sit up a bit. "Yes I know I'm sorry bu-" She drops her bags. "This place is a mess, there's dishes out. Foods not even ready. Laundry is still in the hamper. What fucking else." You look at her softening your look. "Iz, I'm sorry- I woke up feeling horrid so I decided to stay in bed." She shakes her head. "Even when I have the worst headache known to man I still get my ass up and work. You know all that sweet money, I work for that. And you work here that is your job." This was one of the moments were you'd feel bad for yourself. Weak. Weaker right now considering you're sick. You look down at the sheets. "Are you even listening to me? You spoiled brat." She doesn't do what she does next often but when she does you know you're in the shit. She hits you. Hard. "Wonder why I have a headache all the time. It's you and your whiney voice. Look at how pathetic you are." She glares down at your drowsy figure. You feel tears finally sting as you had held them in. Refusing to let yourself be so weak, but you give in. Feeling overwhelmed with emotions right now. "What the fuck are you gunna be like when I go away in a few weeks huh? You better keep this place spotless you know about the cameras. I'll be watching you." Yes. The oh so lovely cameras. They're only in the kitchen, living room and laundry. The only places you slave away at. "I will iz I promise." She hums. "I'll believe it when i see it. I needa go out and grab some stuff. Make sure dinners ready when I get back." She says before getting her keys and leaving. You then sob. Letting it all out as you shakily grab your phone going to the only person who knows how to comfort you. Ellie.

When she arrives not long after, giving a honk. You go outside and get in the passenger seat. "Off anywhere?" You shake your head. "No that's alright. I don't want to get yelled at.." Ellie sighs. "Bub, you can't keep letting her treat you like this-" "if I left I'd have nowhere to go Els.." She keeps looking at you. "Yes you do. Mine." You let out a small breath looking down at your hands. "Everythings so messy." She nods, even if you can't see. "I know angel but my offer still and will forever stand. I think you should take it." You just wipe the small tears forming at your eyes. "How was your day?" She hates how you change the subject. She always has. She wants to talk about it with you more. Comfort you more. "Pretty easy going. Do you want a hug love?" You shake your head. "Its best if you don't come near me right now-" "I promise it's not gunna affect me if you cry. You know that." You nod. "I know, but I'm sick- thats why she yelled at me.." She furrows her brows. "She got mad at you because you weren't feeling well? What a fucking bitch." You sigh, in the midst of a slight cough. "Angel you should go back in and rest. Let me help-" You immediately shake your head. "She'd know you were there. I- I couldn't risk that." You always felt awful. Not because you got yelled at but because she would want to pick a fight with Ellie too. Ellie was older then Iz too, more mature. Never bought into her crap. "I'll make sure she doesn't yell at you, you really need rest you work your ass off-" You stop her talking. "I don't want her to try anything with you Els." She shakes her head. "She won't. I promise just let me make you some soup and tuck you in. Please, just that." You contemplate whether or not you should but you nod regardless.

She was making the soup trying to be as speedy in hopes she wouldn't bump into Isabel. "Here you go. Say you made it for yourself. I also cleaned a lil." She sends you a wink. And when she says a lil she means the whole lot. "Els, you seriously didn't have to." She smiles gently. "No but I wanted to. I also made something else. Knowing grump would be hungry when she gets back." You look at her so thankful. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you." She gives you a kiss on the head. "Call if you need anything else. I love you." She says while looking in your eyes. "I love you too Els." You respond sweetly. Oh how stupid you were to realize how INlove she was with you. But she plans to show you sooner or later. As she's the one you should truly, be with.

[readychilledwine]

Kissed by Fire pt 3

Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.

Warnings - Amelia was a prostitute, body insecurities, mentions of abuse, and the author's loose understanding of chess, but using it more as symbolism and foreshadowing

A/n - it's happeniiiiiing. Things are short and sweet to allow me to make a giant scene where Eris and Amelia meet in the next chapter, and we get to hear Eris say my favorite Eris line to her 🫠

Series Masterlist ✨️ Eris Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist

Rhys sat across from Amelia, a chessboard set up between them. 

He was ruining a game he and Azriel had been playing before he left for the Mountain, but he could not think of any other way to explain to Amelia how powerful and valuable she was, and this was a language the oldest sister would understand after years of playing with her father.

“Lower fae with minimal powers,” he grimaced at the term, “would be like the pawn pieces.” He held one obsidian Pawn in his hand. “They're able to move one space toward but can not go back. Lesser fae can sometimes winnow, but if they make it is another conversion entirely, and they will be worn magically from the effort.”

Amelia nodded. She watched as Rhys picked a bishop, “Low fae with more magic singing through them would be like a bishop. Larger winnowing patterns are possible but still limited.”

“Most fae who prefer to call themselves by their race, such as my illyrians, would be similar to a knight. Capable of larger movements and typically able to jump exactly where they want, granted, most would rather just fly, so winnowing is not a skill the Illyrians truly care about.”

“All brawn no brain,” Rhys smiled at her statement.

His hand moved to a rook. “High fae would be similar to the rook. Typically they're able to go wherever they like within reason, but the jump may be difficult and use more magic than expected.”

He ignored the king piece, the least valued piece in chess, and moved to the queen. “You, my dear Amelia, are the queen piece. There is no limit on your movement,” he paused, ensuring she was looking at him. “Through our world or into another if wanted.”

“Lovely. What exactly does that mean?”

Rhys smiled at Amelia, watching as she rotated in her seat to stare at the map of constellations he had charted many years ago. “It means you can lead whole armies into new worlds and territories by just looking at one of those strings that holds the fabrics of our world together. It means the realm, our world, can communicate to you where to go when you ask and you can get there regardless of the distance with less than half the amount of effort it takes for a High Lord to winnow from Spring to the Night Court.”

He paused, looking at the map with her. “It means you could pull one of those strings and open a rift to a new world. If they are out there.”

“And why is this such a useful skill that you all are now fighting about taking me to Hewn City?” Amelia clocked Rhys straighten slightly, eyes glaring.

“You've been listening to conversations not meant for you again.”

Amelia leaned forward, wrapped in that sweater that made Rhysand's skin crawl anytime he saw it. “Perhaps you all should not discuss someone like they aren't sitting in the same home as you. Who is Eris?”

Rhys sighed, leaning forward to meet her at eye level and show her he would not, and would never, be intimated by her. “Eris is Lucien's older brother. He is a heartless, cruel, and selfish asshole.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “I've been around my fair share of bad men, Rhys. 

“Not that were over 500 years old and used words for warfare. Eris likes powerful things. He will see you as an object for collection.”

“Sounds familiar," Rhysand glared at her serpent smile, "You assume I would allow myself to be collected.”

“I assume it would be best to protect you and not risking him charming his way to you.”

“So, he's charming.” Rhys could help but laugh, watching as Amelia smiled too, the air feeling lighter. “I still think you should let me go.” She batted her lashes at him, watching as his chest stilled and smirked.

“You are dangerous as well. Batting those pretty eyes to get your way. Have you always been like this?”

“No,” she replied softly. He watched her mind go back to a simpler time, chasing a young Feyre through the market in fine clothing before going back to the night she sold everything to keep them alive. “I was made dangerous.”

Amelia stared at the scrap of the clothing Feyre was holding up to her. She could have sworn this was Rhysand mocking her, attacking her despite the period of almost friendship they'd had the past week. 

“I'm not wearing that,” Amelia curled into herself, hugging herself tighter. “That isn't even a dress.” The dress, if she caved to Feyre's desires and called it that, was surprisingly white. But it would cover nothing. 

Amelia had worn dresses like it before. Dresses meant to entice and entertain. Dresses meant for seduction. Dresses meant to flaunt. She hated them every time. Her mother and grandmother had beaten modesty into her, and her former line of work had ripped it apart. She had hoped in this new body, this new life, she could go back to the safety fabric offered.

Rhys had promised never again. He promised her safety. This dress wasn't safety. “Ask Rhys if there's something else I can wear.” 

Feyre's smile fell. “I am high lady of this court-”

“Then if it was your idea, I will remind you that you are my sister. My baby sister. Asking me to wear this is so violating, Feyre. I would never ask that of you. Regardless of my status over you." The one you constantly hang over my head was left unspoken. It was resentment on Amelia's end, just annoyance at Feyre's newfound entitlement.

“Do you not want to reclaim your body? Hybern took your human body from you. Don't you want to own what you have now?”

Amelia could hardly believe what she was hearing as she mentally called for Rhys, and he appeared. “I do not have to wear that to reclaim myself.” The High Lord's eyes were wide as he took the dress from Feyre. They were communicating silently between them, the female glaring up at her husband. 

“I had a different dress commissioned in case you said no to this one. We do allow choice in this court,” Rhys started slowly, taking Feyre's jaw in his hand. “If your sister likes this one so much, she can wear it herself.”

Amelia couldn't help but smile at the two of them. Despite her and Feyre never being as close as she would have liked, seeing her happy, seeing Feyre smile, brought Amelia joy. “You look beautiful when you're happy, Feyre.” You watched her sister flush and Rhysand smile wide. “Even if your mate is mediocre.” The male's mouth fell open as Feyre began to laugh, eyes sparkling at the sign of life coming back to Amelia. 

“Lia! You can't say that,” her voice was laced with giggles as Rhysand stood there in shock, seemingly too stunned to speak. “I think you broke him.” 

“Good,” Amelia kissed her brother's cheek softly before taking the dress, caving to Feyre's wants for once in her younger sister's life. “He needs to be humbled every so often. I will wear this once. Then, I want things that cover a bit more. We can compromise on design." Feyre sighed as Amelia kissed her temple, that once motherly love healing a small part of her. "I am going to freeze in this."

“What do you want in return?”

“Freedom for the night. No brooding male following my every footstep. No wings hovering in the distance. Just freedom for one night.”

Feyre did not give Rhysand time to fight. “Deal!”

Eris hated Hewn City. He had since he was first brought to the Mother forsaken place as a child, but now it reminded him all too much of that mountain. Of Amarantha. 

He wondered how Rhysand had the strength to be down or if the strength was just another finely crafted mask the male wore. 

His usual room had not changed since he was last here over a hundred years ago. Eris threw himself on the bed, allowing a few moments of rest on the dark sheets and blanket before he would have to get dressed into the fine trousers and jacket he had packed himself. 

He had no worries about Keir. Dealing with that male was easy. If he believed he was benefiting from whatever he was offered, he normally took the bait without question.

He had packed an exquisite outfit, smiling at the amount of his father's money sewn into each thread. He checked it over, ensuring nothing was loose and out of place before getting dressed. He could already hear the music, the laughter, and smirked, knowing he was late and would walk in while Rhysand was already sat on his throne. 

He walked along the palace walls, waiting until the doors opened before entering. Azriel was the first to spot him, immediately going to Rhysand and whispering in his ear. He felt those violet eyes on him studying him, but nothing mattered to Eris as much as what he saw. 

There, on the dance floor, was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. For Eris, nothing else mattered. There was no one else there.

It was just her. 

That beautiful creature, laughing too hard to be deemed appropriate. Smiling larger than she should. Dancing with every male that asked. 

She was an enigma, and Eris was more than ready to dive into every complex piece of her.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

Kissed by Fire:

@justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @isa1b2h3 @glaciuswduo

@mybestfriendmademe @st4r-girl-official @fandomarchiveilyd @chasing-autumns-chill @tequilya @skyesayshi @maddybraps @acourtofbatboydreams @homeslices @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @believinghurts @going-through-shit

[suuuupernovaaa]

kurkung

kurkung [ˈkuɾ.kuŋ] n. asshole (vulgar)

Request from @darrarii: Could I request a Neteyam x reader where the reader's blunt and kind ofbitchy. The Sullys are arriving and meeting Aonung's best friend (the reader) and he hears her say some randomly blunt and out of pocket stuff under her breath. I live for kind and loving readers but imagine neteyam and reader just side eyeing people together.

Aonung nudges me, removing my focus from the task at hand, and I turn to admonish him. I have been working on this net all day, and I am nearly done. I have also asked him nearly ten times to quit bothering me while I work, but Aonung never listens to anyone who isn't Aonung.

"Look!" he says, and points. Above us fly five beasts, ikran, and it's a sight to behold. My anger melts away and I stand with Aonung and Roxto, who is never far off, our mouths agape. "Visitors."

Aonung charges forward, and Roxto scrambles to follow. I carefully set aside the net I've been working on, and have to jog to catch up.

The riders are dismounting as our clan gathers on the beach, gawking and whispering. They are strange people, a deeper blue than us, and I think they must be from the forest. Ikrans, dark blue, and as I get closer, I see their thin arms and tails.

What business do they have here, in the ocean?

They're a family, clearly. A mother, a father, and four children. The eldest look to be around our age, maybe 18 or 19, and the youngest cannot yet be ten. I must admit, she is very cute, but the features on the older boys make them look weak. They won't be able to swim, or hold their breath - but maybe they're just passing through.

Aonung and Roxto approach, and Aonung points out one of their tails.

"Is that supposed to be a tail?" Aonung asks, and Roxto laughs.

"It would be better to have no tail at all, than that useless little thing," I say to Aonung, who smiles at me. One of the boys turns his eyes to me, glaring, and I shrug.

I'm sure his tail is fine where he's from. Here, it will be little more than a nuisance to him.

Tsireya approaches, and slaps Roxto as he laughs, admonishing him and her brother, Aonung. She gives me a sideways glance, but again, I shrug.

"They do look strange, Tsireya," I say.

"As strange as we look to them," she replies. Where Aonung and I are harsh, Tsireya is soft and caring. I admire those characteristics about her, but don't see a use for them myself.

When I turn my attention back to the newcomers, the mother is telling our chief, Aonung's father, how her husband was Toruk Makto.

That grabs my attention - everyone knows the legend of Toruk Makto. I just imagined him to be... something different. I guess I pictured one of us, even though I knew he was a forest person.

"Toruk Makto is a Great War leader," Tonowari says, and I lean over to Aonung.

"I don't want a war here," I say to him, and he glances down at me, and nods once.

Again, one of the older boys looks to me, but he doesn't look annoyed this time - he looks sad.

"Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us," Tonowari says when I turn my attention back to him. Just a moment later, he's promising that Aonung and Tisreya will teach their children our ways.

I know what this means - I'll be roped into it too, as will Roxto. The three of us have always been somewhat of a package deal.

At least, I tell myself, this could be interesting.

--

I sigh and grab Neteyam's hands. "Bah, Neteyam!" I exclaim. "Are you watching me?"

He rolls hie eyes for the 100th time that day. "I am! You're going too fast. Slow down."

I have done the phrase what I think is slowly a dozen times, but he is still not picking it up. I am starting to think that these forest people are going to be hopelessly useless here, and I worry about them, just a little.

"Once more," I say, and move so slowly that it feels as if I am hardly moving at all. "Where... are... we.... going..."

Finally, when he repeats the gesture to me, it is correct.

"Yes!" I exclaim. "That's right, Neteyam!"

He smiles and laughs, and the sight of it... does something to me. I have seen Aonung smile a million times. He laughs with me every day. But never before has it made me feel this way.

There's a strange feeling, almost a fluttering in my stomach, and I snap my eyes away, trying to focus, but it isn't easy, not when he's still smiling.

--

Often, I find myself making excuses to be around Neteyam. I tell myself he must need help riding his ilu, learning how to slow his heart and hold his breath, or adding more finger speak to his lexicon.

Even as it becomes increasingly clear that he really doesn't need anyone's help anymore, I still find myself there, always there, offering a hand or a correction.

He never turns me away.

"Will the Sullys be stealing all of our women?" Aonung asks me as we ride our ilus together, the first time we have been alone since our arrival.

A pit settles in my stomach. I knew that Lo'ak and Tisreya had eyes on each other, but I hadn't known Neteyam had shown interested in anyone. I wonder who it could possibly be, and how have I not noticed?

Just the thought of him showing interest in another woman makes me sick, and I have to finally admit to myself that I care about the forest boy. Since the moment I saw him smile, he's nearly all that I think about. When we aren't together, I wonder what he's doing, wonder how he's adjusting to life here. I find excuses every day to talk to him, and I would even call us friends.

I'm hurt that he has found a woman, and I was unaware.

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep the emotions off of my face and failing.

"First my sister, now my best friend," Aonung says, shaking his head.

"Me? And Neteyam? Bah, Aonung, no."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid. You like each other. I never thought you would stoop so low."

"Aonung!" I exclaim. "You are too harsh. They have been through a lot, and even you can't deny, they've adapted well here."

He rolls his eyes once more, and dives under and darts away from me. I want to be mad at him, but I'm too busy wondering if he's right - does Neteyam like me?

I have never been one to dance around what I want or how I'm feeling. Sometimes, I have been told, this comes off as being too harsh, a jerk, unfeeling and mean. I try to deliver the truth kindly, and only deliver it if it needs to be said, but I don't always know where the line is.

I don't worry about all of that now. When I return to shore, I head to where I know Neteyam and his family are staying, and hover in the doorway only a moment.

His mother and sisters are there, but not him.

"Do you know where Neteyam is?" I ask, and his mother's eyes snap up to mine.

"Fishing," the youngest replies. "Just left."

I nod and smile. "Thank you, Tuk."

--

It takes me a while to find Neteyam, who has swam far and found a little-used beach where the good fish rarely come. He couldn't have known that, so I hold my tongue on chiding him.

"Neteyam!" I yell as I step up onto the beach.

He turns, a spare in his hand, ready to launch, and smiles. "Y/N! How did you find me?"

"Well, I've been looking a long time. There aren't really good fish here, Neteyam. I can show you better spots."

He sighs and lowers his spear. "Damn. Okay."

"I want to ask you something," I say as I reach him, shaking the water from my hair. "Do you like me?"

He looks a little taken aback, with eyes wide, his tail swishing from side to side. "Like you? Yeah, I like you. You've been a good friend."

"No, no," I reply, stepping forward, shortening the gap between us. "Romantically, I mean. Aonung said he thought you did. And I like you. Romantically. So, I am asking."

When the confusion fades from his face, it is replaced with soft eyes and a wide, beautiful smile. "You are very straight-forward."

"I know. Most people don't like it, or like me. That's why I'm asking. I thought Aonung could be wrong."

"He's not," Neteyam replies. "I do like you. The first day on the beach, I did not," he tells me with a chuckle, "but I just thought you were... an asshole. I don't think so anymore. I think you just say what you are thinking, and it's kind of nice. I never have to wonder how you feel about something. And you've always been patient and kind to me, even when you didn't have to be."

Though Neteyam is right and I usually do speak my mind, my mind currently is a garbled up mess of joy and a little bit of fear. What will it mean, to fall in love with this forest boy? What will be permitted? Do we have a future together?

I'm not sure it makes sense to worry about that now. What I know is, nothing has ever made me as happy as Neteyam has. I wake up every morning, wondering what part of the day I will get to spend with him. To be assured that, going forward, I get to spend every single day with him... it is the greatest happiness I have ever known.

I am speechless. I wrap my arms around his waist and place my head on his chest, listening to his strong, loud heartbeat as he wraps his arms around my shoulders. I feel his chin resting on my head, and I take deep, slow breaths, enjoying this moment.

"I'm sorry I didn't make a good first impression. I'm glad you were able to look past it."

He reaches under my chin, tilting my head up to him, and places a soft, quick kiss on my lips.

Too soft. Too quick.

"You are lucky you are so beautiful, or I may not have given you another chance," he says with a wink and a teasing smile.

I want to shove him away for the comment, but I can't bear to tear myself away from him. Plus, he certainly owes me one.

I'll get him back tomorrow.

[star-suh]

Taeyong x btm male reader the reader and ty are both leaders of nct and while doing the 24hr reley cam fans see some hickeys on the reader neck and lower stomach while tybhas some on his colorbones...hehe and then we maybe get a flashback when they were getting heated in the living room and then Johnny comes in while he does his reley cam and yeaaa idk tbh feel free to ignore it

Natural Born Fuckers

lee taeyong x male reader

cw: idol au, y/n is part of nct, y/n is also nct's leader, hickeys, top taeyong, blowjobs (both receiving), mating press, breeding, spit kink, sweat kink, marking kink, implied multiple rounds, some johnny sprinkled at the end.

—

the relay cam video of the two leaders of nct has been just released, fans were watching how y/n and taeyong were having fun, laughing, cooking and all those things throughout the whole video until they noticed something. in social media was trending how y/n has some spots in his neck and lower stomach that look like hickeys and taeyong has some on his collarbones too, captions like "tae/n is real", "that should be me", "who's the lucky one?" or "they can top me" accompanied the pics. but what really happened? let's go back to a night before they recorded that fucking video…

y/n and taeyong we're both cooking, between them there was always some sexual tension, constant eye contact and teasing was made between them making everything escalate quickly.

"taeyong pass me the sausage" asked y/n, taeyong wanting to tease him replied "which one" putting his hand on top of his bulge. y/n's eyes widened and he blushed "don't be disgusting" he says grabbing the sausage and taeyong laughed "this one's bigger tho" murmured y/n teasing taeyong back. "shut up, you haven't even seen it" he fought back, "no need to, i just know it" said y/n.

taeyong slapped y/n's shoulder "if you want to see it just tell me" he then grabbed y/n by the jaw and whispered "but you're not going to try it. i know you're going to want it after you see it". they made eye contact and just went with their feelings, a very hungry kiss, teeth clashing between them like they've wanted that for a long time. "if you wanted this… should've told me before young one" says taeyong between kisses, "don't act as if you… didn't wanted this too" replied y/n caressing taeyong's cheeks who grabbed y/n by the neck to deepen the kiss. "let's go to our room" said taeyong panting.

both discarded their clothes while kissing. they were so eager to have sex that they forgot to lock the door… y/n leaned on the bed while taeyong did the same on top of him, kissing y/n in his neck while leaving hickeys "gonna mark you so you can remember this night forever" said taeyong going down y/n's body leaving some kisses and hickeys in his lower tummy, until he reaches y/n's cock and started to suck it "it tastes so good. fuck" said taeyong while staring directly at y/n's eyes like a hunter looking at his prey "don't look at me like that bastard" said y/n shyly covering his eyes with his arm.

taeyong then settled in a 69 pose "go on, suck it" he demanded to y/n who opened his eyes meeting taeyong's big cock "shit, that's so big" he gasped. "c'mon weren't you saying before that it was smaller than that sausage?. c'mon you can take it babe" y/n slapped taeyong's tummy "asshole" he murmured. both were sucking their dicks as of they were lollipops, hungry for tasting each other's pre-cum, "fuck~ how much i love hearing you gagging on my dick" the older stopped sucking y/n's dick and started to mouthfuck him, using him as an onahole "it's not that small after all huh?" taeyong said, reproaching y/n's past comment. y/n tapped taeyong's thigh signaling him to stop and he did, "what happened?" he asked worriedly. "nothing i just don't want you to cum in my mouth" y/n replied opening his legs right before, taeyong smirked understanding what y/m means "ok" he simply answered positioning himself quickly between y/n legs and sliding his cock into his tight hole.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this" says y/n, "me too" replied taeyong who kissed y/n and then spat into his mouth "swallow it" demanded the top scooping his saliva with his fingers and introducing them on y/n's mouth so he can suck on them. taeyong was pounding hard into y/n's ass "it feels like heaven" thought taeyong, enjoying the pleasure given by y/n's hole. 

taeyong then grabbed y/n's both legs and push them towards y/n's upper body and fucked him in a mating press position, y/n's face clearly showing the pleasure that taeyong was giving him, the tip of his cock brushing y/n's prostate. "fuck yeah like that, keep ruining me like that" begged the younger, "dont worry boy, i'm not gonna stop fucking this amazing hole" said the older speeding up his thrusting pace, y/n's face was now in front of taeyong's collarbone that was drenched in sweat so he decided to lick it and leave some hickeys on the collarbones, "not gonna let you forget this night too" says y/n and taeyong smiled "you look so cute while being fucked" then both kissed passionately, spitting in each other's mouths.

"i'm cumming" y/n commented "wait for me" said taeyong "let's cum together. yeah?", "yes" replied y/n. both speeding up their paces, white ropes of cum were shooted from y/n's cock to all his abdomen and chest while taeyong cummed inside y/n growling like a beast. "did you like it?" asked taeyong, "i loved it" answered y/n kissing taeyong. the top pulled out his cock from y/n's hole watching his cock smeared in his cum and how it's dripping down the bottom's gaping hole "get ready y/n i'm gonna fuck out that cum out of you" says the older introducing his cock again, "you have all night for that" said y/n smiling at him, making faces showing how much pleasure he's feeling and restraining his moans so no ona can hear them…

—

"ok guys, this here is the leaders' room" said johnny to the camera who was facing at him, only showing his face, "let's see what are they doing", he opened the door making a surprised face he then tried to hide it "oh it seems that they're busy now" he laughed and smiled to the camera "i'm gonna keep continuing showing you all the rest of the dorms, ok?" said the man who had to continue recording only his face due to the huge bulge forming in his pants, from the scene he just witnessed. 

[cb97breathing]

YOU BELONG TO US

Pairing: Bang Chan x Afab! Reader x Changbin (I saw this and I said fuck it let's make it spicy and do both of them ) Warning: Story will contain mature theme's. Threesome. Unprotected Sex. Double Penetration. Creampie. Breeding Kink. Oral (F + M receiving) Minors DO NOT READ. Word Count: 3.5k Disclaimer: This is purely fiction.

This is not how you expected your night to go, writhing and panting between two stunning men as they had your way with you. You were forced to go to the club with your friends. You hated the club, but you had recently been dumped by your boyfriend and needed a distraction. You had came there to drink and just drown in your sorrows.

But soon you felt eyes on you, you turned to see a pair of two men staring your way. Two extremely beautiful men, when your doe eyes met their lustful gaze they smirked at you. It made your heart flutter and your body shiver. Now you where here, in one of their beds in their apartment. Your head was buried into the older one's neck as they both thrusted into you roughly.

"F-Fuck baby girl you're doing so well for us." The younger one groaned as his cock pushed into your asshole. "It's like your body was made just for us." He kissed and nipped at your shoulder as you whimpered in response. You were a mess, they had made you cum more times then you could count. You were cock drunk, fucked out and dazed. You cried out as you felt the older one hit that special spot in you again beneath you and clung to him.

"Come on beautiful" The older one cooed beneath you as he thrusted up into your pussy. "You can give us one more yeah?" You were so weak, you couldn't even fight it.

"I c-can't." You coked out. "C-Chris.. B-Binnie.. please." You sobbed out as your body shook.

"You can beautiful, we know you can." Chris cooed as he stared deep into your eyes. You kissed him feverishly before turning your head to kiss the younger male as well, whos hands held your hips still as they roughly thrust into you. You're eyes rolled back and you screamed out as the males grinned at the sight.

"That's it love, cum with us." Changbin whimpered into your lips. You all came undone together and you went limp in between them. Your body trembling violently as you felt the waves of your high mixed with their seed filling you up in both holes. You had never done anything like this before. The feeling of giving into both of them was indescribable from the moment you first kissed them.

They both gently pulled out of you and the Chris held you close as laid against him, shaking and panting, completely wiped out. His fingers brushed against your hair gently and he pressed his plump lips to your forehead. Changbin laid next to you both as his hands gently rubbed your back gently. He pressed butterfly kisses to your shoulder and hummed in satisfaction.

"You're so perfect baby girl." Chris whispered. "And your ours." He whispered. Those words sent a shiver down your spine, of delight and fear. You were to weak to respond or react, you just whimpered and looked up at the older male as tears flew down your cheeks. You were happy, but you were also terrified. You didn't want to feel so connection to not one, but two people so closely after your heart was shattered into a million pieces.

"C-Chris." You whispered and bit your lip as he brushed away your tears. "

"We ruined you tonight didn't we?" He responded softly. You whimpered softly and locked eyes with Changbin, his eyes stared at you adoringly. They were so dark and full of lust earlier, but now they were so soft and gentle as they gazed at you. The younger one pressed his lips to yours in a soft and deep kiss as he ran his fingers up your back, Heaven, you were in heaven in that moment. It wasn't long after you passed out in their arms from exhaustion.

The next morning when Changbin woke up and his eyes widened, you weren't in their arms. He sat up and looked around, your phone that was on the night stand was gone, your clothes that were scattered on the ground were gone. His heart sunk to his stomach and he gently woke the man next to him.

"Hyung." He called out. The older one groaned and stirred in his sleep, but immediately realized he was no longer holding you in his arms. His eyes flew open and he looked to Changbin with furrowed brows. "W-Where is she?"

"Gone." Changbin said quietly as he got up from Chris' bed. "Her clothes and everything are gone." Chris' eyes widened and he rushed out of the bed, he didn't even bother to get dressed. He searched their apartment for you and when you were no where to be found he ran his fingers through his hair. "Fuck." He breathed out. "I thought we finally found the one." He whispered. Changbin walked next to him and handed him a pair of sweats.

"She was, she is. She was perfect with us last night." He said quietly as he sat down on the couch. "I saw how she looked at you, how she looked at both of us. I know she felt it too." He ran his fingers through his black locks and sighed. Chris threw on his sweat pants and went to his bedroom to get his laptop.

"We have to find her, I am not letting her go. Not after last night." He growled out. "I won't rest until she's back in our arms again."

You don't know how you made it back to your own apartment. Your legs were shaking still and you were sore. Part of you was regretting leaving them after what you had done with them, but your brain told you to run. You didn't want to get hurt again, you could feel your heart letting them in, even though you barely knew both of them, submitting to them quickly, and that terrified you.

You weren't ready to give yourself completely again, you couldn't. But god was it difficult to leave them, their arms were so warm. They looked like angels as they slept on either side of you, holding on to you as if you were the most precious thing in their life. You were shocked you didn't even wake them when you moved out of their grasp.

You laid in your bathtub, letting the hot water soak you and relax all your muscles. Your eyes fluttered closed and all you could do was think of them. You couldn't believe how attached you were after just one wild night. It wasn't normal, there was no way it was right? Love at first sight? With not one but two men?

You heard your phone buzz and saw two instagram notifications.

CB1997 and SpearB just followed you!!

Your brows furrowed as you clicked on one of their pages. Your eyes widened and you almost dropped your phone in your tub. It was them, they had found you. Soon you saw your inbox had a message. You bit your lip and clicked on it. It was from Chris.

Babygirl, why did you leave? Do you know how heartbroken we were when we woke up and you weren't in our arms this morning?

Your heart fluttered and you bit your lip. You fought yourself on whether you should respond or not when you saw there was another one, this time from Changbin.

Beautiful, we need to see you again. I need to see you again. Please. I know last night meant something for all of us. Come back to us.

Your heart was screaming to go back to run back into their arms and be theirs. But your mind was screaming at you to stay put, that you didn't know them. That last night was just a distraction you needed in order to move on from your ex. You sighed as you let your brain win. You typed out a reply to both of them.

I'm sorry for leaving like that. Last night was one of the best nights of my life, but it has to end there. I'm so sorry.

You bit your lip and it send, you saw that they both read it. Your heart pounded as you saw that one was writing back. The reply making your heart dance with glee, while your brain tried to silence it.

We are not giving up baby girl. You belong to us. You know you do. Last night was only a taste of the life we could give you.

You whimpered softly at his words and closed your cell phone. You tried to keep convincing yourself that you needed to stay away from them, that this was for the best, but your heart wouldn't agree. You tried to distract yourself all day, but ended up in your bed, hand between your legs, whimpering and writhing while you thought of all they did to you the night before. When you were about to climax you heard a knock on your door. You almost fell out of your bed when you heard it. You quickly put on a robe and went to the door. You opened it slightly and saw a female there with a multiple vases of lilacs. Your favorite flower.

You let her in to set the flowers down and she handed you the card that came with them before leaving. You eyes widened and your heart stopped.

Told you were weren't giving up love. Come back to us. xx

You looked to the flowers with wide eyes. How did they find your address? How did they know lilacs were your favorite flower? You locked your door quickly and bit your lip. You heard your phone go off in your bedroom and you nervously went to go pick it up. It was a text from your friend saying that someone asked for you help to send you flowers and she wondered if you got them. You sighed and whined in response. Chris and Changbin must have found her friends through instagram and got her address from them.

"You're persistent. I'll give you that." She whispered as she sunk back into her bed. Days went by and they had even sent her flowers at her job. She couldn't believe how far they were willing to go to win her. They kept sending her messages, begging for her to give them another chance, but she couldn't bring herself to respond knowing full well she'd just give into them.

A week had now passed and your friends were begging you to go back to the club. While your mind screamed at you not to, that they would find you again. Your heart begged to go. Your heart won the battle, you needed to see them again, you needed to be with them, you couldn't take being apart from them any more.

You dressed in the sexiest dress you could find, wanting to make sure that if they were there, their eyes would never look anywhere else. You kept your make up simple and natural, not wanting to over do it. As you and your friends made your way to the club your heart was pounding. What if they weren't there tonight? What if you did this all for nothing?

You let your friends go to the dance floor and your eyes scanned the crowd as you walked to the bar. You didn't see them at all. Your heart sank and you sighed as your ordered yourself a drink and sat down at the same seat you sat at last time. Many men were checking you out, coming up to you and hitting on you. You would decline politely and sigh in relief when they would leave. But currently one wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Come on beautiful, why don't we go to one of the private rooms? I can make your night even better." He slurred at you. You looked at him in disgust and shook your head.

"I'm not interested, as I told you before I'm already spoken for, so please leave." You said quietly. The man gripped your arm and pulled you close to him.

"I don't think so beautiful, you're coming with me." Your eyes widened as he gave you a sinister grin.

"The fuck she is." Your heart leapt when you heard that beautiful Austrailian accent you had come to love so quickly. You turned your head and there they were, both of them, staring at the man with a deathly glare. "That women there is ours, let her go." Chris spat. Changbin reached out for you and pulled you out of the mans grasp. You heart pounded and you immediately melted into him as he pulled you close. The man growled but backed off knowing that the odds weren't in his favor.

"You're here." You breathed out as you looked up at them both softly. Their hardened gazes immediately softened at the sight of you. Changbin gently caressed your cheek and pressed his lips to your forehead. You felt your knees go weak and you clung to him.

"You look so beautiful tonight love." Chris whispered softly as he moved close to the both of you. "We missed you." He breathed out and leaned down to kiss you deeply. You whimpered softly into his lips and eagerly kissed back. "Does this mean you're giving us another chance?" He asked softly as he pulled away from you. You looked at them both and the love you saw in their eyes made you almost melt into a puddle. You nodded and bit your lip, which only made them grin.

Changbin didn't hesitate. He picked you up bridal style, making you squeal and giggle as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Chris chuckled and followed as Changbin carried you out of the club. You saw your friends giggling and giving you thumbs up out of the corner of your eye.

When you got into Chris' suv Changbin's lips immediately pressed to yours. You whimpered softly and kissed him back, your arms wrapped around his neck as he laid you against the back seat. Chris joined you both in the back as Changbins lips attached to your neck, nipping and sucking at the flesh. You whimpered and moaned softly as your fingers tangled in his hair.

"God we missed you." Chris breathed out before kissing you deeply. "We need you now princess, will you let us have you right here?" You whimpered and nodded. The thought of them both having you in the car made your core drip with excitement. Changbin's hands roamed your body as he nipped at your collar bone.

"You dressed up like this just for us?" He asked softly. You nodded and he groaned in response. "Such a good girl you are." He whispered. He looked at Chris pleadingly, as if he was begging to let him have you first. Chris smiled and nodded softly. Changbin pushed your dress up and pulled your panties off. He stared at your swollen folds hungrily as he spread your legs wide. You whimpered and gasped as you felt his tongue lick your soaked folds. "So wet and ready for me already, I can't wait to fill you with my cum." He groaned before his mouth dove in.

You cried out softly as he licked desperately at your folds and clit, like someone who hadn't eaten in weeks. You looked up at Chris and saw he had his member out and was stroking it as he watched. You looked into his eyes pleadingly wanting to taste him. He grinned as if he knew exactly what you wanted he moved closer and brushed his tip against your swollen lips. You opened your mouth eagerly and took him deep in, swirling your tongue around his member. He groaned loudly and bucked his hips.

"That's it beautiful, suck daddy's cock like the good girl you are." You moaned and began to bob your head as you sucked him, whimpering and whining as Changbin continued to assault your clit with his mouth. You cried out as you felt him slip two fingers into your core. Your legs shook and you rocked into him in response, making him groan into your folds. You continued to suck Chris' cock eagerly, your whimpers and moans sending vibrations through him. Chris couldn't help but whimper and tangle his fingers into your hair.

"God baby girl you're going to make me cum." He whined out. That almost made you cum right then and there. His whimpers driving you to bob your head faster as you felt your own climax approaching. His whimpers grew louder and his eyes rolled back as his cock began to throb. You were shaking yourself as you felt Changbin fuck you with his fingers at a rapid pace. The both of you cried out as you came together, Chris's seed filling your mouth as he groaned softly. You whimpered as you swallowed it all and licked him clean.

Changbin didn't give you a chance to relax, he was too aroused by watching you as you sucked his best friend off. He slammed his cock into your dripping wet core and cried out softly. You whined at the feeling and your back arched off the car seat. Changbin held you close to him, his body flushed against yours. His lips pressed to yours feverishly and couldn't help but groan at the taste of his friends seed in your mouth. He rocked his hips into you desperately whimpering and whining loudly as he nipped at your lips. Your arms wrapped around his waist tightly as you panted into his mouth.

"You're so warm and tight my love." He whimpered out. "So fucking perfect, taking my cock so well." You whined loudly and buried your face in his neck. "You belong to us Y/n. You are made for us, us only. No one else. Say it." Changbin pleaded as he roughly thrust his cock deep within you. You sobbed and cried softly with each thrust, nodding in response.

"Y-Yes, Binnie." You cried softly. "I belong to the both of you." He moved so now he was beneath you, keeping you flush against him as he laid down on the car seat, he looked to Chris and nodded at him. Soon you felt fingers slip into your other whole and you trembled with excitement, Changbin laid still as Chris prepped you. You looked back at Chris, your eyes full of excitement and need almost made him cum right then and there. He lined his cock up with your smaller hole and pushed in gently. You both whimpered loudly as he filled you. He stayed still as he let you get used to his size. Soon you were whimpering and whining.

"P-Please, I need you both please." You cried softly. They both began to rock into you, slowly and gently. Chris laid flush against your back, their bodies melting into you on both sides. Your lips pressed against Changbin's in a slow and passionate kiss. The car filled with the sounds of the three of you whimpering and whining for each other. You could feel yourself begin to clench around Changbin's cock and he groaned.

"That's it my love, cum for us." He begged softly, his fingers slipped in between the two of you and rubbed your clit gently, wanting to make help you find your release. You eyes fluttered closed and you whined as you felt your high hit you hard. Your legs shook and you buried your face in his neck. The sight of you coming undone made Chris whimper. "So fucking beautiful, that's it y/n let go for me." Changbin whispered as he continued to gently thrust into you.

"M-More." You whimpered out into his neck. "P-Please." You rocked your hips in need and that earned a growl from the older man above you.

"Whatever you want baby girl. We plan to fill you with so much cum that you'll be nice and swollen with our children soon." He whispered as he kissed across your back. His words made your toes curl at the thought and you whined loudly. His thrusts were still at a slow pace, but rougher, harder, making you cry out in delight. Changbin matched his thrusts below, his big cock hitting you in spots that made you see stars. You new it wouldn't be too long before you came again. "Come on my beautiful girl, I know you have one more in you. Give us one more, come with us." Chan ordered softly.

Your eyes rolled back and your whole body began to shake, it was as if he had full control of you. You felt yourself clench around them, you felt their cocks throbbing inside you. Within seconds all three of you fell apart together crying out for each other as you reached your high. Their seed spilled inside you and you whined in delight. Chris panted softly and pulled out of you, leaving you whimpering at the sudden emptiness. Changbin wasn't ready to move just yet, he wanted his seed to settle in you. He kissed you slowly and deeply before pulling away to look into your eyes lovingly

"You're not going to leave us again right?" He asked quietly, fear filling his eyes. Your heart ached at the sight. You shook your head almost immediately and kissed him softly.

"Never." You breathed gently into his lips. You pulled away to look at Chris and saw him grinning softly at you, his beautiful dimples showing.

"Let's go home then." Chris said softly before pressing his plump lips to yours. "We plan to make love to you until the sun rises."

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