#gay reader

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ I WANT THE YOU WHO WANTS ME AGAIN ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, some comfort, in the end, | wc: 4.5 K | not proofread

warnings: death of a parent through sickness (unspecified), cheating (gojo with geto), r! goes through it (lmao), megumi is rooting for r!

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

Perhaps at one point in your arranged marriage, you had loved Satoru but that’s all but vanished away when you see how he looked at Geto. Still, you provide comfort to your husband when he seeks you even if his six eyes (and soul) all bear to you that he does not see you. Satoru realizes too late that he cares for you - that he loves you. He despises your empty stare, he wants you back. He desperately wants you back.

authors note: i know i said i was taking a break but writing this made me feel a little bit better — cathartic almost. it's been in the drafts since last year anyways so might as well. (autumn leaves by bts inspired fic)

It seemed as though even the clouds were pitying the sight before it. Grey and darkened, they gathered to block the sun as whispers of doubt combed through the trees surrounding the temple — they reach your ears despite the attempts of your mother. "Now, don't you look handsome". She tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, pursing her lips at the look in your eyes. "(Y/N)". Her hands grasp at your face. The warmth of someone's hands on your cheek jitters your brain awake, and your pupils contract back into focus. "Have you been eating well, darling?" For a moment, your heart squeezes at her kind words. It's been so long since another had asked you that question so sincerely. The tears well but your hair sways as you shake your head, urging your cheeks to form a smile. "I'm alright, mom. Just getting over a cold". She brushes her thumb over your cheek then presses a kiss to your forehead. "My son". You're pulled into an embrace and suddenly you're little again — clinging to her after she had bandaged you up from your training session. Your eyelashes darkened as tears slip past them, hands trembling as you grip her tightly. "My beautiful son". Eventually, the sun sets but the rain continues to pour. The sounds of the raindrops are violent, accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunder it seemed as though the Gods were angry. Angry Gods do little to scare your father. He gazes at you coldly from where your head is laid upon your mother's lap. Defiantly, you avoid meeting his eyes as you relish in the fingers smoothing out your hair. "Your husband will not be pleased with this," your mother's glare is reproachful. "Our son has come to pay us a visit, his husband needn't worry about him," his nostrils flare and he looks as though he's about to go on another rant about image, expectations, manners, servitude. But before he could, the shoji door slides open. It's one of the servant girls, her bow immaculate you could see the swirl pattern of her hair growth. "Gojo Satoru has arrived, Master (L/N)" She's addressing your father, you know because you are now Master Gojo. The air is filled with expectations. The rain does little to muffle it. Pitying her back, you rise from your mother's lap. "Inform my husband I'll be out in a moment" She bows deeper and straightens her composure to slide the door close but freezes as you address her. "Is my husband alone?" When her mouth opens to form the syllables of Geto Suguru your eyes turn to the floor. You're unsure if she's finished her sentence but find very little fucks to give as you silence her with raise of your hand. Wordlessly, she bows and closes the door.

"Ah, husband!" he slings his arm around your shoulder. His weight, his warmth, his presence — too casual it's an insult. You cared little for tradition, scoffing at it sometimes, but the way Satoru displays himself in front of your parents causes you to grit your teeth. Suguru shoes are in the peripheral of your vision, you will your gaze to the side.

Once upon a time, the four of you were friends. Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and you.

Those blue summers and warm winters as first-year sorcerers. Memories so bright and heartfelt others probably only see on movie screens. Then you were betrothed to Gojo Satoru, family stuff, expectations and duty, and everything the both of you roll your eyes at. A part of you had been elated. Blinded by the idea of marrying the boy your heart beats for. Sure, falling in love would have been preferred but despite the arranged marriage, you were thick as thieves. So, in your foolish daydreams, you'd sigh at the idea of you two falling in love. Shoko could only watch as your dreams crumble before you. She tried her best to be some sort of support — shocked when she spotted you smoking her cigarettes after a year into the marriage. "I never noticed the way they look at each other". Your words follow the stream of smoke and Shoko settles next to you with her elbows placed on the railings. "I mean, I knew but I just thought...I just thought he'd look at me the same one day". She is silent as you curl over the railing, shoulders jerking with silent sobs. "How foolish, huh?" She places a hand on your back, saying nothing as you wept.

Suguru greets your parents with more tact than your husband who is smiling ear-to-ear. "How was your mission, Gojo, Geto?" the way their surnames sounded made your jaw ache as you continued locking your jaw. Your husband is squeezing you to his side, like a friend. Satoru feels your shoulders stiffening and he loosens his grip to look down at you but you slip out from under him and hastily walk towards the car. "Young Master —" a servant gasps as he attempts to match your pace, the umbrella he holds barely shielding you as you feel your tears mix with the rain. "(Y/N)!" Suguru calls, catching up to you with his own umbrella and you feel searing guilt stab at your chest. Suguru had never been mean to you — he's been there for you through the years and despite your sudden avoidance of him here he was trying to ensure you remained dry. A clap of thunder muffles your sob, the only mercy the Gods are giving you, and you will yourself to pass Suguru. The car door is slammed shut in Suguru's face and before he can wonder the driver is driving off. He stands in shock, the servant that had been chasing you sharing his expression. Satoru tilts his head, hands in his pockets as he Suguru gives him a look of apprehension once he reaches him. Your parents — his in-laws — are apologizing. More so your mother. Your father's anger is palpable despite his puckering lips. "We'll get you another car, Gojo, Geto" your father calls for his personal driver

Satoru’s eyes — with that bright, heavenly, blue that put the sky to shame — linger on the fading signature of your aura. Suguru’s bangs stick to his forehead due to the rain and the sight of him alone has Satoru tear his gaze away. They land on Suguru who offers a furrow of his brows and so Satoru reaches to wipe the wetness away.

“Hey!” the action is rough, anything but romantic. Suguru feels like a cat being pet too roughly — with their skin stretching back and eyes growing wide — and so he smacks Satoru's hands away.

Friendly. Playful. Banter. Boys being boys.

Your mother squints her eyes nonetheless. She had heard that Satoru had been less than willing to marry. Her husband had thought it was his hubris but bowed until his forehead met the floor of the Gojo clan’s home. Their name was no laughing matter — a strong line of curse users much like the Zenin’s.

But Gojo Satoru was sought after by many the second he turned 16 — the marriage proposals flooded in like a tsunami.

He refused them all. Except the (L/N)'s.

She had thought it was the dowery. Perhaps, even the fact that an alliance would soothe whatever ill tides their clans had once had. Or maybe it really was just a stroke of luck her son got along so well with Satoru while attending Jujutsu High (her husband had enrolled (Y/N) only when he heard whispers of Satoru attending).

But fear gripped her heart as Suguru tugged on Satoru’s ear.

Had he accepted...just so he could remain close to his true love?

“I’m sorry”. You pause the wiping motion, delicately lifting your head as your mother’s cloudy gaze floats aimlessly in the room. You were used to her nonsensical speeches, her random bursts of conversations and weepy apologies. It's been a year since the sickness unexpectedly came over her and you suppose that is what most people do when they’re close to death's door. Confessions of this and that just shooting out in a weak attempt to right old wrongs.

“Nothing to be sorry for, mother”. She places a hand over yours and squeezes. How frail. When has your mother looked so frail?

“Come home, be a (L/N) again”, confusion contorts your face. “Mother, whatever you’ve heard is all unfounded. Rumours. Father has dealt with them”, despite her fragility her fingers squeeze your wrists so tightly it forces your own to release the damp cloth.

“Then say that to me. Look into my eyes and tell me that bastard husband of yours is better than mine, that he’s not off loving another while you rot here”.

Colour bleeds into those lifeless eyes. She feels that same squeeze she felt when she saw Satoru wipe away the rain from Suguru’s skin rather than your tears just a year ago.

Just as quickly as they appear, that dullness returns in your eyes and she reaches to hold your face but you stand.

“Father is cheating on you?”

She’s lost you.

You walk to dip the cloth into the bowl, and your shoulders are too heavy for a 17-year-old boy. Her precious son, so forlorn and withdrawn; humiliated by the society he was in for being inadequate and unworthy.

Perhaps she deserved those titles, sick and bedridden and dying, it was no surprise that her husband is seen courting younger ladies. But not you, not her son.

“He’s no shame, you know your father. His pride comes before all”. It elicits a dry chuckle from you.

Then you suppose Satoru had more in common with your father than you knew.

The Star Plasma vessel incident, you can't believe it's been a year.

A year after that man that killed that Amanai and Kuroi and Satoru.

You remembered dropping to your knees as he admitted it out loud with such an ugly smile, shaking your head in disbelief as anger swelled within you.

Before you could even think, even grieve and rage, Geto had beaten you to it. As you looked at him with his anger so visceral it came off of him in waves you felt your torn heart crumble into pieces. It felt good to dish out that anguish on Fushiguro Toji even if you ended up eating dirt.

“Wasn’t he your husband?” Toji placed his foot on your neck. “Damn, he treats you that badly or something? This freak put up a better fight”, that day you had surprised Toji by smiling with your teeth all bloody.

“He did, didn’t he?” Your laughter bubbles and you choke on your own blood.

Toji knocked you out after a scoff.

That still wouldn’t have killed you as much. The torn pieces of your heart were still salvageable.

But then.

Then.

As Satoru came back. Warm and alive. Bloody but grinning. He did not race to you, he did not even look at you. To his credit, he simply stood there with his arms wide open.

But then.

Then.

Geto’s the one to race into them.

Ah.

Right.

Shoko was shocked to see you in her smoking spot. She hadn’t even seen you as Satoru was whisked away by the Gojo clan, only spotting Suguru following along. None had wondered where Satoru's husband was; Suguru was always next to him, so there was no void that one could spot.

“Are you alright?”

The darkness in your eyes makes her flinch.

You were dead.

She’s been around enough of death and you were dead.

Your once warm, cheerful, eyes now devoid of anything.

She held you as you cried, not knowing what more she could say to help you.

“Leave me alone”, Satoru is under the covers. He has been for days now.

Grieving.

Grieving Geto.

“Husband”, you coax. It was once a funny joke. The laughter you shared as the both of you exchanged formal titles of your marriage. It hurt to know that it truly was a joke for Satoru - not for you.

Satoru grits his teeth. His eyes were rimmed red, he himself was surprised they weren’t swelled up. His throat was scratchy, his skin uncomfortable and untended from his refusal to get up. His hair was tousled, unkept and disarrayed. It's been a week since Geto's betrayal and Satoru had been laid in your bed, burying himself under the blankets and deeper into the mattress; as if determined to be buried with his sadness and anger.

“Husband," he feels your hands on his shoulder. You know him by his shape alone. If you closed your eyes you could trace the curves that made up Satoru; even if it killed you slowly, your love was a loyal curse.

“Don’t call me that!” he raises in a grand move. The covers flew and his voice was in a yell. His glare was spine-chilling but they faltered as he saw the outfit you were.

“What should I call you then, Satoru?”

He takes you in, frowns deepening at the awful way his name sounds as you call for him. Not like his Suguru; his one and only.

“What the hell are you wearing, (Y/N)?”

He feels awful as you answer: “Funeral garbs. My mother has passed”.

There’s some satisfaction that paints your features as he is rendered speechless.

“What? How?”

“She was sick”. As he sits there with nothing to say you move to kneel in front of him. Your touch shocks him to reality. He pulls his shirt down, hoping you haven’t seen the hickeys Suguru had left on him before he decided to massacre that village.

You had. You’ve seen all of it. The lingering scent of Geto on his clothes, the hair ties on his wrist, the love bites that mottle his pale skin. Satoru may have those six heavenly eyes but he seemed so blind when it came to you.

The way he grimaces each time you’ve said his name now.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll help you wash up, Gojo”. He’d be an idiot to have not noticed that switch. Guilt is seeded into him. He stops your hands but you move them with a robotic stubbornness.

“Stop — Wait —”

“I know, Gojo.”

Silence drapes the room.

Your hands carefully thumb into his heart and cover the seed of guilt with such care Satoru’s pulse doubles its speed.

“I know you love him. So very much. I know, because when I go to clan meetings, my cousins whisper behind my back of the two of you holding hands and going on dates. When you come back late after a mission to go to Geto’s room. Or when you suddenly have Geto’s marks on you and yours on him”.

“(Y/N) — ”

“But this is my mother, Gojo”.

Your voice wavers just as he clutches your wrists in his hands. Your head hangs as your shoulders jerk up and down, twisting and squirming so you can help Satoru clean and dressed.

You know he was in pain and your heart feels for him. He needs your help. You were willing to strip down so you could wash him, and get back into this disgustingly heavy robe all over again despite how nauseating it was to do it the first time.

Funny. You can’t recall ever being one with Satoru. Your marriage was never consummated — he told you that there was no rush, you were still kids. What did he tell Geto then? Did he tell him that he had never taken you in bed? Was he fervent in his worship of him? Was their love akin to a religion? Did they worship each others temples like devout monks? How funny. The first time you’d get to see him naked and him you would be the day of your mothers funeral.

“She was my mother, Satoru!”

He has never heard you yell before. Satoru is struck by the that revelation.

It’s been a year since he was officially titled your husband and he knew you longer than that. But this was the first time he’s seen you in despair. Heard your yell.

Seen you cry.

“Please, I know he was your one and only but she was my mother. Please, please, don’t let me face this alone, Gojo”

“(Y/N)...”

“Please, Gojo...”

Your wrists slip away from his loosened grip. Crumpling onto the floor, your forehead meets the floor and his feet as your beg.

"(Y/N)". How long had your mother been sick? Why didn't you tell him — or did you? Why couldn't he remember? As his mind races to collect any memory of this past year, your tears that wet his feet water that guilt.

Satoru says nothing as the both of you appear at the funeral. The haughty eyebrows and curled lips sting more when he's there — was it shame? This burning feeling in your chest? Had you said too much to Satoru? Now he was acutely aware of how others looked at you, at your marriage. How awful.

Satoru is not used to this feeling. As a child, the eyes that lingered on him were hungry for the prize of beheading him. That had been more comfortable than this.

This was scrutinizing. They gazed on you with pity, even with his body attempting to shield you, the whispers reach your ears anyways. Have you been doing this all alone? All those clan meetings that you went to alone, the ones he'd excuse himself from saying he had a mission while he spent the day with Suguru to make him eat more and attempt to nurse him back to his side from the Star Plasma vessel incident.

Suguru had wept to him, telling him how terrified he'd been at the thought of Satoru leaving him. Why didn't you come to him? No. Why hadn't he noticed you?

The ride back home was silent. Satoru couldn't believe your father had brought his bride-to-be to the ceremony, you quelled his anger by muttering that your mother had given her blessing for their marriage.

You're staring out the window. Had those bags always been under your eyes? When did your cheeks get so sunken in? Had you...had you lost weight? He ignores the way your fingers twitch as he places his hand over yours. Your skin feels foreign — so does his. He offers a purse of his lips, sliding his hand up your arm and leaning in to embrace you.

But freezes as you pull your hand away.

"Don't force it upon yourself, Gojo". "Husband —" his smile falls as your shoulders tighten, lower lip quivering. "Please don't make me beg again, Gojo."

"What do you think, beloved?" Gojo grins brightly, bouncing his brow up and down. You were seated across from him in some cafe — he had been telling you all about how good the crepes here was a week before. "About...?" He pouts and places his elbows on the table. "My theory?" He watches as you blink, once, twice, then a faux smile climbs on your face. You turn your attention back to the melting ice cream. "Your theory about Okkotsu cursing Rika because of his love for her?" He nods vigorously. "It makes sense, right? His curse technique activating after seeing that brutal sight, it binding Rika to him". "Afterall, love is the most powerful curse", you said. Gojo's animated hand motions pause. He places his hand back onto the table. He reaches for your hand and you squeeze your eyes shut but allow it. He hates this.

Not you — He doesn't hate you. But he hates this.

After your mothers funeral, he looked through pictures. As first year students, all sunny smiles and bright eyed. The smiles got more tame as the four of you aged. His hands slung around Suguru's more tightly — even after they bared matching rings.

Satoru's never seen you smile like that anymore.

He brushes his thumb over your knuckles. Your jaw clenches.

"I love you, my beloved".

"...Thank you, Gojo".

"It's been awhile, Satoru".

No. No, no, no.

Nononononononnonononononononononononono —

Gojo can't take his eyes away from Suguru.

He tries and tries and tries but he can't. Pinned by his onyx gaze alone.

Satoru's ring burns viciously and he curls his fingers into fists.

Meanwhile, your dead-eyed gaze seemed to intensify. Everything is muffled, it felt like you were underwater. It felt like you were 17 years old again.

Abandoned. Unworthy. Unloveable. In love. Always have been. Always will be. In love with a man that was never yours.

"(Y/N), you look pale", Suguru condenscends. At least, that's what it sounds like.

Hah. Was he envious? Did he think that in the years he's been gone, you've filled the void he left? Or did he know that you never did but he was jealous anyways?

Fuck, Satoru thinks. His temples feel taut as his teeth grit together.

Kento steps infront of you and your eyes widen by an inch.

How pathetic, Gojo (Y/N). An underclassmen protecting you from your husbands ex-lover's gaze.

Why couldn't Geto Suguru just die already.

"What are you doing?" Gojo is grieving again. You should be elated but you're not. It feels too cruel. It wasn't your doing, you hadn't had any hand in killing Geto Suguru but a part of you wondered if your inner thoughts had been a wish you put out to the world. Now, Gojo was without Geto and Geto's daughters were without their father.

So you felt guilt anyways.

It was more feasible competing for Satoru's affections when his lover was simply exiled. How could you compete with a ghost?

"I'm praying for him", you replied. Gojo watches as you prepare to do so, kneeled on the floor. His eyes are rimmed with red again and he knows you've heard his cries; so here you are, sacrificing your happiness again for him.

"You don't have to do that, beloved". You say nothing as your eyes are closed in prayer. Satoru kneels behind you, his guilt had 10 years to grow and now it was a willow tree, with its leaves sweeping the lake of tears it grew from. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder; he fit so perfectly there, just like you knew he would. He's crying into your shoulder and your hand reaches back to card through the shaved sides of his hair. Your fingers lightly brushing the shell of his ear makes him shudder and he circles your waist to pull you against him. "Don't pity me, Gojo". He says nothing and neither do you.

"Say my name". His voice so close to your ear has you shivering.

"Gojo".

He shakes his head.

"My name, please, please, just say it".

Your heart clenches and as you close your eyes a tear slips past.

"I can't replace him, Gojo". He squeezes you tighter.

"I'm not asking you to replace him. No one can replace Suguru. I don't want them too, I don't want you too; I want you".

"I don't believe you".

He laughs, the slightest brush of his teeth on your skin has your stomach twisting into knots. Your breath trembles and you squirm in his hold, twisting away and getting onto your feet to get away from him. He doesn't allow you to. He blocks your way, shaking his head as he holds your shoulders next.

"I want you, (Y/N). I love you —"

How long have you wanted to hear those words. Your heart wants nothing more than to soar. But your brain knows better. "No, no, no, let me go". He doesn't let you. Satoru wraps his arms around you and your mouth opens to let out yells, fists pounding onto his chest as you try to get away from him.

"I hate you! You fucking bastard! I hate you, I loathe you!"

Satoru holds you firmly agaisnt him. Holding the back of your head preciously as he finally hears your voice raised above that whispering tone. "I hate you! I hate you so much! Why do you keep doing this to me!? I — I just wanted you, Satoru!" Your voice breaks and your sobbing turns into wailing. His heart squeezes, chest physically hurting as you sob and yell.

"I wanted you, Satoru! I just wanted you!" "Why didn't you love me, Satoru!?" Thunder rumbles and as your yells quiet down into hiccups, rain muffles it.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)". He feels your knees give out and he holds you, making you lean against him for support. "I'm so sorry, my beloved. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, (Y/N)".

When he tucks you in to rest, he isn't surprised Megumi is standing in the doorway with his eyes set into a glare. Satoru wipes your tears away, sweeping some of your hair away before placing a kiss on your forehead. He raises to answer Megumi's burning questions.

"You heard?"

"I'm not deaf".

Megumi has his arms crossed. He was an observant boy. Being raised by both Satoru and you — he notices the overexuberant Satoru's confidence wavering every time you give him smiles that never reach your eyes. Tsumiki even told him once that she finds it sad, how you both seem to be so familiar but foreign to each other.

"But one time I did see (Y/N) get flustered because of Satoru", she told Megumi whilst on their way back from school. He looked ahead, sipping on his drink as a prompt for Tsumiki to continue. "It was during breakfast. (Y/N) woke up a little late because he was traveling around for clan meetings and missions. So he was panicking so much, he burnt our rice and stuff! But then, Satoru walks in and tells him he prepared our bento. He kept it in the fridge. All that was needed to do was heat it up, he helped (Y/N) the entire time and then he just — "

Tsumiki kisses the air with a loud 'mwah!'

"He plants a kiss right on (Y/N)'s forehead. (Y/N) was so flustered he just stared down at the sink. It was cute, he's definitely still in love, they both are!"

Megumi peeks into the room. The sliver of light on your peaceful expression highlights the content curl of your lips despite the swollen eyes you bore.

"...Don't mess up this second chance", Megumi warns. He turns and marches away while Satoru huffs, scratching the back of his head as he sighs. "I wasn't planning to". He really does love you. He does. He loves you, from the ends of your hair to the tip of your fucking toes; he loves —loved, Suguru too. But this is different, you're different. But his love isn't any less or more.

He loves you.

Whatever it takes, he'll make sure you know it until his last breath.

[g4yforethan]

the helper

pairing: billy loomis x male!reader

summary: reader is billy’s accomplice and billy repays him for his hard work

warnings: cursing, top!billy, bottom!reader

a/n: thought of this in class and realized i have never made a fic for billy so here it is and hope u enjoyy! also happy halloween to those who celebrate!!

"billy i'm scared." "don't be. remember it'll be quick and easy." you drove passenger side next to billy as you were headed towards casey becker's house. you both arrived two blocks away and grabbed two ghostface costumes, an anonymous phone, and a voice changer. "okay just stay here and i'll tell you when it's time to go." billy reassures you as he goes towards the front of the house. you called casey's home phone number and talked to her through the voice changer. she couldn't recognize it was you even though you sat next to her in physics. after minutes of being on the phone, you hear a crash through the window and a scream following soon after.

“GO GO BACK TO THE CAR.” you hear billy scream as he runs towards you taking off the costume. you both run down the block and speed out of the street. “WOO! good job there y/n. i’m proud of you.” you blush at his comment as his hands reach for your thigh. “hey how about we head back to our place and wash up for the night?” you agree and the two of you head back to his house. once you both get there. the two of you quietly sneak upstairs to his room. billy takes off his shirt and lays on his back in bed. you sit down next to him as he stares at the wall, thinking about earlier that night.

“wow we really just did that! this is crazy. i’m proud of you.” he turns his head and stares at you. “thanks i mean i didnt do much besides calling her.” he laughs in response. “yeah but it’s more than that. you committed to it y/n. you committed to me.” you blush and turn away so he doesn’t notice this but he did. he gets up and pulls your face so you’re staring at him face to face. “thank you billy i don’t know what to say.” you continue staring at each other. “you don’t need to say anything pretty boy.” he grabs your face and presses his lips onto yours. his hands reach for your waist as yours reach his back. he moans at the taste of your lips and savors every moment of it. he takes a moment to take his shirt as do you too and the two of you move onto the bed.

billy lays you on your back and starts to kiss along your neck. his hands reach for your nipples as he starts to stimulate them. you moan which turns him on even more. he starts to kiss your chest and begins to suck on your nipples. you start to roll your eyes back as his fingers reach for your mouth. you suck in his fingers for a few minutes before billy lays on his back. you start to kiss his neck and chest before unzipping his pants. his long dick, already dripping with pre-cum, enters your mouth. you suck on his cock for a few all while his moans fill the room. "fuck fuck stop i'm gonna cum." you stop because you know billy wants more of you.

"i wanna fuck you so bad baby boy." "billy please." he unzips your pants and underwear and lays you on your stomach. he starts to tease your hole by licking it and putting one finger in and then another in as well. "billy please i want your dick inside of me." "easy there baby i'm getting to it." he spits on your hole before slowly sliding his cock inside of you. he groans as his dick is hit with your tight hole. he goes at a slow and soft pace, allowing you to relax and get adjusted. he leaves kisses on your back and grabs ahold of your waist as he starts to go a little faster. he digs deeper inside of you and hits your prostate which leaves you rolling your eyes back into your head. "fuck billy right there."

he knows he's hitting the spot as he goes even faster pounding your hole until your fingers are gripping the bedsheets. his sweat combined with yours melt onto the bed as billy pulls on your hair and grabs your neck. "i'm gonna cum baby." he moans as he fills your hole with his cum. he lays on his back and wipes the sweat off of his face. "fuck baby you felt so good." you blush and move next to him and give him a kiss on his neck and lips. "thanks billy so who's next on our list?" he smiles and kisses you before reaching to hold you in his arms.

[gambleminds]

Title: Such A Good Boy.

oc x top male reader

summary: you and alvarus were finished doing both of your respective missions, you had been so stressed lately so you decided to take some stress out on your boyfriend, alvarus. which he had no idea what you’re planning to do to him.

warnings: pet play, you make alvarus bark for you, praise, overstimulation, anal plug, mentions of creampie (he's stuffed full of your cum), degradation, aftercare not written.

note: this is a little gift for @kuroismss because he was begging me for Alvarus content on discord lol (totally not because he is also writing something for me at the moment).

Alvarus was bent over on the table, having his ass which had a crystal clear butt plug stuffed inside of his hole. He was twitching, moaning, and babbling. You really fucked him good!

In your point of view, you could see your earlier release inside of him due to the crystal butt plug. you couldn't help but push the butt plug even deeper.

"Such a good boy, taking it so well.." You praised Alvarus, immediately receiving another moan from him as you push the butt plug even deeper inside of him.

"ngh... ahn~" Alvarus could only moan, you prohibited him from talking. He could only respond to you when you ask him to bark.

"look at you, stuffed to the brim with my cum.. should i stuff you full of my seed and then stuff that plug inside your petite ass over and over? I bet that you want that, don't you?" You were only babbling nonsense, but you had a sadistic glint in your eyes that made Alvarus's dick twitch.

"Bark f'me won't ya?" You say, as you continue toying with the butt plug. pushing it deeper before slightly pulling it out, then pushing it inside again.

"w-woof! arf!!" Alvarus obliged to do so, having forgetting the fact that he was a mercenary that was assigned to protect you as well.

"Gosh, look at you.. I almost forgot you're a mercenary and not a pathetic whore." You say smirking at him as well.

[b00tyliciousbabe]

hey i don’t know if you’re taking requests but if so can you write a bottom male reader x himbo Jordan Riki where they’re fucking at home after the game and Jordan is horny as fuck and wants to celebrate the win?

thank you so much :)

THIS EATS SO HARD! omds i love this. and of course, imma try my best to write. ENJOY!

update: my apologies to whoever sent me this request, life’s just been lifin’ - STREAM SUBMISSIVE BY DESTIN CONRAD!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ＊*•̩̩͙

trophy

jordan riki x male reader

summary: for jord’ you’re the only prize worth playing for.

notes: AHHH! my first request. lowkey kinda exciting, but i went way off on a tangent. nonetheless…still spicy xx

song rec: ‘lite’ by downtown kayoto

a few minutes passed as you admiringly watched him pop champagne for the celebratory pictures. ‘Y/N!’ a young woman screamed. you turned back to see it was sienna, who was going out, with jordan’s best friend, jock. ‘omds! i ain’t seen you in forever, how’ve you been?’ hugging her, you match the excitable energy her smile expressed. it was so nice having someone who understood the pressure of being with a sportsman and how demanding it was. the championship was being held in scotland and thus, the NRL had paid for the entire team to stay in the most beautiful hotel. on the walk back, you and sienna spoke about your plans for the future, mostly on the topic of marriage. ‘i hear congratulations are in order, i am so happy for you and jock!’ you smile at her ‘took him long enough,’ sienna joked as she flashed the engagement ring. ‘i cannot wait, plus as my man of honour, we need to start prepping real soon.’ she says going into bridezilla mode already. ‘trust it’s gonna be the best day ever.’ you sigh stopping in your tracks, ‘what’s wrong, Y/N?’ sienna expresses concern. ‘I’ve just been thinking a lot about how my relationship with jordan,’ you start to tear. ‘sometimes i feel like he will only ever see me as his teenage crush, and not something more.’ you finally admitted and it was like a weight off of your chest. ‘Y/N, i completely understand, but jordan is obsessed with you, he’s always telling me and jock about how he’s just waiting for the right time to pop the question.’ her words were so comforting, and left you with a calming sentiment.

you made your way up to the hotel room, and as you opened the door, you were greeted with roses on the floor. you looked up to see the chiselled figure of your man lying naked on the bed and shimmering in the moonlight. ‘jordan, what is all this?’ you asked, stunned by his grand gesture. ‘i couldn’t celebrate knowing that i left my boy on his own’ he got up and began to undress you. towering above you, he lifted your chin to place a sloppy kiss on your lips. you’d never seen him like this before, dominant with his touch and so submissive with his heart. you pulled off your baggy jeans with one swift move, as you knelt down wearing a vest and boxers.

‘such an eager slut aren’t you,’ he spits into your mouth as you look up at him with bright eyes. ‘careful now,’ you whispered, teasing the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue ‘i don’t have to suck you off.’ to which jordan snickered at your attempt to manipulate. without warning he shoved his dick inside your mouth. ‘ahhh,’ he breathed ‘much better.’ your lips felt so warm around him and he always appreciated how you were always there to use as his own. he began thrusting deeply, as the percussion of his balls slapping your chin made a beautiful symphony of pleasure alongside your gagging and slobbering on his rod. ‘fuck you look so pretty.’ He groaned ‘I could marry you rn.’ a request he subconsciously muttered under his breath. this sentiment was not lost on you and you stopped to deepthroat him fully, suctioning at the this base of his large dick. ‘SHIIIIIIIIIIIT.’ he grunted, holding your curls in adoration. jordan pulled you off him as you giggled with pride watching how he was entranced by the slick you painted on his pole.

you rise onto your feet, staring up into his eyes. wrapping your arms around his broad neck as he placed light spanks on your ass, kneading your dough with his big, coarse hands. jordan invaded your mouth, using his tongue to fast himself on your lips. his fingers spread your thick cheeks apart as he circled around your taint. ‘jump baby.’ he said deeply as his passion overcame him. you obliged as he placed you lovingly on your back, the bed of rose petals adorned your skin, making this erotic painting all the more romantic. your bf climbed onto you and raised your legs above your head. like a jigsaw, you molded them to fit onto his shoulders, with jordan’s piece knocking at your entrance. your pussy lips puckered at the prospect of getting wrecked, making it easy for him to slip in. ‘jord…’ you moan at how full you felt, signalling to him that he needed to go slowly. ‘easy baby, let me know if it’s too much.’ he reassures, adjusting himself inside you slipping in the last couple of inches. ‘I’m all in now love, I’m gonna go faster okay?’ He kisses your neck as you stroke his biceps.

he bowed his head into the crook of your neck, rutting into you viciously as you cradled his head. ‘fuck babe, fuuuck.’ you both scream ‘marry me…’ he mutters again, you clearly heard it this time. he continues pounding your pussy as his breathing gets deeper. ‘marry me already…’ slipped out as he moaned in ecstasy. ‘fuck yes, I’ll marry you babe,’ you matched his energy as he stopped in his tracks. he stared at you like a lost puppy. ‘shitttt, it wasn’t meant to be like this, i had a whole thing planned afterwards, we were gonna go on a walk, i was gonna go down on one knee and-‘ you cut your man off with a kiss that reminded you of the early days of your relationship. ‘I love you jordan, it doesn’t matter where we are or what we are doing, but i will never stop loving you.’ he started tearing up. ‘Y/N how am i the one crying when it’s you that ain’t gonna be walking for the next week?’ he joked to lighten up the mood. ‘aw babe,’ you whined, kissing him once more ‘if it makes you feel better, i can erase what you said from my memory?’ he smiled into yet another tongue dance ‘nah, don’t even worry about it sweetheart, imma fuck u so dumb you don’t even be able to remember your name.’ he threatened, pressing on your abdomen to feel how deep he was inside of you. his dick twitched as your slick hole was doing so well cockwarming him.

by the end of the night, he had dumped his load into 4 times, and while you laid on his chest, he couldn’t stop thinking about his win. not just the game or player of the season, but how he had won your heart. so while you were asleep , somehow so tired to the point you’d completely forgotten his proposal, he looked up at the ceiling and dreamt about your wedding.

@gayaristocrat dacre is up next ml <3 what typa scenario are we thinking?

[coffeewithcocoa]

Drunk Confessions//Part 1

Human Alastor x Male Reader

Prologue.

Warnings: Fluff||Suggestive language||Females DNI||SHORT

———————————————————————

Husk scoffed and slammed his hand down, a growl admitting from his chest. “What if he doesn’t want me to tell a jackass like you?” His finger went to poke Alastor’s chest before he grabbed his and bent it the other way.

A quiet pop was heard as Husk was holding back a scream of pain. His fist pounding on the counter top as to stop himself. “I don’t mean any harm old pal.” Alastor chuckled out, thrusting to break Husks finger any moment now.

“Okay okay..I’ll tell you.” Husk frantically said, trying to get Alastor to let go without snapping his bone. Which he did, for a short second until Husk made a bitchy comment. “Jackass.” Husk mumbled. “Heh..what was that?” Husks eyes widened as Alastor’s grip soon returned back. “N-nothin’.”

Alastor hummed with a smirk, “that’s what I thought.” He smiled softly as he moved his hand to the counter, grabbing the whiskey that he abandoned. Husk cleared his throat, grabbing a glass to clean it.

“Uh. The kid went that way.” He pointed over to the last place that he saw you head over to. Alastor’s smile grew as he placed his drink down with a satisfying ‘clink’. “Ah splendid!” Alastor got up from his stool, giving Husk a small pat on the head like he was a pet.

“See was that so hard?” Alastor chuckled as he moved away from Husk. “Keep your fuckin’ hands off me..” Husk turned away before him and Alastor got into another fight. Alastor shrugged as he went over to the area that Husk supposedly said you were located in.

‘He’s probably just a drunken mess.’ Alastor thought to himself as some sort of rant while his shoes made soft noises on the floor. Meanwhile on the way there he ran into some of his fans of his radio broadcast, which he had to stop and use his charm on the ladies.

Faint humming could be heard from the room you were in. Inside, with you, you had drunk the rest of the first bottle and was ready for your second one. Grabbing another bottle of booze you enjoyed and opening it up. The thick smell of it filled the room as a chuckle left you.

“I could get used to this.” You said to yourself as you took a small sip from the newly opened bottle. Alastor kept looking for where the noises came from. Finally being met with the room you were in he braced himself for someone who probably wouldn’t be you.

The door knob jiggled for a moment before being fully opened, where Alastor saw you sitting in the ground with an empty whiskey bottle and a new one in your grasp. He chuckled to himself and let himself in the room.

“Why are you here.” You squinted your eyes at him with a frown. “I’ve missed you Cher.” Was all he said that made you place the whiskey bottle down. You turned to look at him with a face of seriousness even though you were drunk.

“I don’t think I quite believe that.” You muttered as your gaze turned to his bow tie. “Why’s that dear?” He grabbed both your hands with one of his and used his other to make your gaze turn back towards him. “I don’t know really.” You whispered out.

Your eyes started to slowly shut as you placed your head into his shoulder. Alastors eyes widened in surprise at this, his heart beating faster than the original pace it goes. “You’re drunk Cher.” His voice was monotoned but he kept his charming smile. “You just now realized that?” You chuckled.

He rolled his eyes. It didn’t really matter or not but he knew you weren’t serious when you’re drunk. “I love you.” You muttered, feeling yourself drift away from reality into a sleep filled haze. Alastor felt his heart come to a complete stop. “Wait what.” He panicked out trying to get you to say it again before realizing you were asleep.

———————————————————————

Part 2

PART 1! WOOOOOOOOOO! FEELING GOOD, PROBABLY NOT GOING TO SLEEP TONIGHT BUT WHATEVER! Sorry if this is short but I wanted to add a little more in the next part. Feast and have a lovely day my children!:)

[tobbotobbs]

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request a Ghost x Male reader where reader isn't one to think of themself or their own needs, they are very self sacrificing. Reader has always hid the darker parts of them away from view projecting a strong, calm, sturdy person. Reader also wants to be Ghost rock give the man everything, but reader has been keeping secrets like the cause of the nightmares he has.

You can only be strong for so long before you crumble

Hey thank you so much for this precious request, I love it! Hope you like it!

Warnings: Talking about death, mentions of selfharm and suicide/suicidal thoughts, parental abuse (mentally and physically)

There were many times where the team of 141 could count blindly on on Y/n. He was their best friend, their loyal colleague, a good soldier and most importantly someoke the could always count on. It didn't matter what the problem was, Y/n was always ready to help or give some advice. They all took it for granted, it was by now a normal thing in the task force. Nobody wondered or asked if he needed some help or advice or just wanted to talk because Y/n always seemed so confident and strong. So sure about anything and everything in his life that everyone stopped the slightest doubt about him feeling alright whenever it started to bloom up their mind.

Of course there is no such thing as always feeling alright and never needing help. And Y/n knew that perfectly well. He was just a professional in hiding his feelings from the others, from anyone that wasn't his pillow in the middle of the night in his barracks. He felr like he wasn't allowed to feel such emotions. Back in his teenager days, his parents made perfectly clear that he wasn't to fuss about other emotions or feelings than confidence and that he rather keep his thoughts about how he felt to himself as to not bother anyone with his problems. Because that's what you do as a good person. You help others with their problems but you keep yours away from the surface to not seem selfish or mean.

It's been years since he really talked about how he felt with anyone other than his own mind in the small room on the base he called his home. Of course they need to talk to Price or Laswell regularly to check of they are still capable of doing their work but it's never personal and intensive talking. They won't check the roots of the problem or the reasons as why a soldier sometimes would go all quiet while eating at lunch or why they would spend their time alone in their room. And like said before, Y/n was very good at lying about his feelings and personal life. He also seemed to be doing so well that sometimes on missions when he would get hit he looked like he was actually totally fine even if he was hurting, all calm and reassuring. Soap and Gaz always wondered how he did it. How he hid it so well because when they got hit or hurt themself on small things they would be whining and breathing heavily and looking as if they're dying in that moment.

Y/n was strong, calm and confident. That chabges though when a specific skull mask wearing brit was in danger or would show some kind of hurting emotion. Then he was all gone. Ghost is on a building keeping his eyes on Soap through his rifle and not noticing the man trying to ambush him? Y/n would be standing behind them in mere seconds, slashing their throats before they can even reach his brit. Gaz and Price would be firing their guns while him and Soap were trying to get to Ghost who was shot on mission in the field? Suddenly he didn't care that was actually mortal and could die from bullets, his legs carried him through the gunfire and to his hurt lover who just had a grazing wound on his leg by getting shot.

One time, it was after a week long stealth mission, Ghost sat silently outside on the grass while looking up at the nearly complete black sky. Y/n had walked out of the building to take a quick smoke because the whole mission got on gis nerves pretty bad. He had to leave the mask wearing man behind for 2 days after getting ambushed. It was the worst time for him and now Ghost wouldn't look at him but when he fpund him outside he sat beside the lieutenant on the freshly cut grass. ,,Gho-" ,,Simon. Call me Simon", he had said to the h/c man. His voice uncommonly soft. In that night Simon had confessed to Y/n that he had felt scared for the first time on a mission after the h/c had to leave him on the field.

Y/n had felt so bad he swore to himself to never leave the others side again and always try to be there for him. It made him feel even more bad and selfish whenever he felt bad or got the nagging thoughts of telling someone how he felt, especially when he wantes to talk to Simon about how he felt. He felt so bad whenever that he tried to punish himself with doing more and more work for anyone of his team to convince himself he wasn't selfish and bad because he still did help others. This obviously did confuse Ghost a little sometimes when his lover got a sudden outburst of needing to help someone even if there wasn't anything he could do for someone because there was no need for help. But it wasn't that concerning because they all knew how Y/n was at times.

When the whole teams expectations changed on another mission, it was a very surprising and shocking moment for everyone. Y/n had been told to clear out a house in a city while the others did the same to a few other buildings. It had something to do with a cartel and it was just regular procedure for everyone. Walk in, clear every room, take informations with them, walk out and leave. Though when the h/c had entered the second room of the house, a bedroom of a teenager at the looks of all the band posters and school work stuff on the desk, his whole world came crashing down on him. There on the side on the floor next to the bed was a body. Nothing special, they had seen enough dead bodies in this job, but this was the lifeless body of a young girl, probably the owner of this bedroom. And she wasn't killed like other humans he had seen, no she had cuts along her wrists. It made Y/n stop in his tracks for a few seconds before he started to look around the room and go through the stuff on the desk.

It made him feel bad but he had to check everything to not miss anything. At a small little piece of paper that looked as if it has seen better days before, the sergeant stopped to take a closer look. It was very crinkled and had a lot of water damaging on it, probably from tears. When reading the text on it, it was soon clear this piece of paper should've been read by the parents rather than him. It was an apology for all the times this poor girl had failed them and selfishly only cared about her feelings and situation than the problems of others. Her guilt ate her up from the inside out and she couldn't take the disappointment of her parents anymore. She was sorry for only carung about herself instead of others. This all reminded him of himself when he was young. He had those thoughts as well- still has them at times. They weren't nice, they were terrifying and bad but he knew not to bother anyone about them. Just like this girl.

,,n?....Y/n? Y/n do you copy?!", the distraught voice of his boyfriend spoke through the radio. For a second he forgot they were on a mission. ,,Y-Yes! Yes copy. Sorry guys, been searching through this room", ,,Alright, Y/n I'm done with my building- I'll come over and help you", ,,Got it Ghost", their conversation was cut off and Y/n tried his best to keep his calmness. A few minutes later Simon was standing in the same room as him, being shocked at the sight in front of him but letting his emotions show not like his boyfriend. A quiet broken sob escaped Simon at the sight. This poor girl was so young- why would she do this? And why didn't her parents find her? Did she had the same bad parents like his dad? Simon's thought's were making him even sadder but the warm embrace of Y/n calmed that river of negative emotions. ,,It's alright love, I'm here. Let's get going and look for the missing information yeah?", they both went on with the mission, but this wouldn't be the last time one of them would think about this poor girl.

The chopper went down and Price turned it off. They were back in the base, it was getting dark outside already, everyone was tired from the mission which went surprisingly successful and everyone had been getting impatient on the flight back to the base. The second the soldiers got the okay from their captain to safely leave the aircraft, they were all gone. Gaz, Y/n and Price made their way to the kitchen, hungry after all those hours out on the field meanwhile Ghost went to the barracks to shower and Soap also went back to his room, but probably to fall asleep the second he hit his bed instead of showering or doing anything productive 'cause he was the most tired and exhausted out of them all today. Back in the kitchen, Y/n stood in front of the oven, waiting for their food to be done meanwhile Gaz took out some plates and forks for the three of them.

It was in the middle of the night, everyone finally went to sleep and get some rest, when Y/n woke up from a terrible dream. It wasn't really a nightmare mire like an old memory that his mind was replaying. He was 9 again, young and still happy and coming home from school with his math test. He got a good grade and he wanted to show his mother and see how proud she'd be of him for achieving this. When he got home his mother was angry with him. He should help her clean the house instead of wasting time with showing her some stupid test he achieved for once. When he started crying about how it was a good test and he tried really hard his mothers hand flew and struck him across the face. ,,Don't be so ungrateful and stop with the disrespectful behavior of yours!" She had screamed at him. It scared the shit out of the young boy and he really just wanted to get away from his own mother. Just like the teen girl did. Only that he wasn't as brave to go through with hus plan.

Y/n never noticed how his hands shook and how he made subtle hurt noises that woke his boyfriend up until Simon slowly sat up next to him and carefully put his arms around the shaking man. ,,Love is....are you alright? I've never seen you like...like this. Baby?", ,,Oh my- Simon just-just go back to sleep it's fine I don't know what happened- actually I'm feeling okay let's get back to-", ,,No, no you're not fine Y/n. You're crying and shaking what...was it the mission? It's because of that little girl isn't it? It's okay Love, I've been thinking about her as well I-", ,,It's....I'm not thinking of her....particularly. I was...I....she reminded me of me....I was dreaming of something that happened back when I was younger it....I'm sorry it's alright it doesn't matter. Are you okay though? You didn't tell me that it bothered you so much, the girl i mean!", ,,My love is....why are you trying so desperately to change the subject from your feelings to mine? I want to check on you and see if you are alright so why are you pushing me away?",

He thought for a second and was confused. Why did Simon want to kniw hiw he felt? That's selfish of him. Did the blonde man want him to be mean and selfish? They never talked about him so why now? Ot didn't make any sense maybe he just waited for Y/n ti finally snap and talk about his feelings just to have a reason to yell at him and call him a bad person...

,,Hey, I can basically hear your thoughts going a mile a minute baby. I care about you. We all do. And we all know that you don't really talk about yourself, which makes me worry because I know you're not alright sometimes but now I can see and I really want to make you feel better. I am worried about you Love", the blondes soft deep voice spoke into the darkness of them quiet room. ,,But...but that's selfish of me. I don't wanna be a bad person Si....talking about my feelings and thoughts makes me a bad person because I only care about myself and-" Y/n was stopped by two soft lips. His boyfriend couldn't hear the awful words coming out of Y/n's mouth so he put an end to it by kissing his love and showing him with the passionate force how much he cared and wanted to help him. He backed away, a small smile tugging on Simons lips as he spoke again. ,,Now please tell me what's bothering you my Love and let me, let us finally give something to you, let us help you yeah?"

Sorry it took me so long to post something! Was having a stressful week and again having another stressful one! Life sucks man, hope I get some free time pretty soon because I wanna try to write for something knew and I already got ideas kind of I just...need time for it!

See yall next time <3

[numnum-num]

[vanillafantasy01]

Lunch Break | Steve Harrington | Male Reader | Lemon

"Your pullout game is weak." - R

"Then you must like being filled if you're still with me >:)" - S

TW: Bottom Male Reader, Gay Smut, Fingering, Hand job, Sub Domination, Reader Gets Turned Into an absolute Fuck Doll [I think...] 🙈 - MDNI

I had a little too much fun with this one y'all, how did I even get to 4k!? 💀🖐🏾 I wanted to make this a little extra kinky by making Steve into a college professor. I hope none of my classmates find out about this. Like I seriously don't know what possessed me to write this LOL

It was mid-break when it happened. Steve had come out of nowhere and latched onto your wrist with such suddenness and force that it had momentarily petrified you, refusing to answer any questions of concern you threw at him. He was actively ignoring you while dragging you to who knows where, and it didn't help that his expression throughout the course was fixed into something severe. It was as if he was mad…annoyed, even.

You're jolted to a stop when Steve abruptly halts ahead of you, seemingly forgetting that you were trailing directly behind him and stopping squarely in front of a… the Janitor's closet? The thickness of his back collides painfully with the tip of your nose as a result, and you grunt in response. Steve doesn't apologize, though. Instead, he opens the door with one swift motion and hastily ushers you into the room before following closely behind himself.

It was dark and musky, the limited source of light penetrating the room's gloom, barely allowing you the necessary rays to make out the general build of it. It was small, and very much so; you and Steve squashed against each other to secure a spot in the room. And as expected, it's filled with brooms and mops of varying sizes and colors.

You're broken out of your thoughts when Steve harshly pins you up against the wall, the unforgiving weight of his body not allowing you any leeway to squirm. A frown still sits upon the frail lips of his face, the ends of his eyes slightly downcast to give off a disapproving look. The room was small, so Steve was practically on top of you to fit in. It made you acutely aware of his overall presence.

He moves his head to rest his chin gently on your shoulder, still frowning as he cradles his jaw into the vulnerable crook of your neck. He stays there for a good minute or two, breathing in and out on your collarbone, and only dares to stop when he gathers the will to speak.

"Sending me nudes during class is too much of a tease, don't you think?"

He licks at the brittle base of your neck while saying this, fondly kissing at and nibbling on your external jugular vein. "Someone could have seen…"

Steve was very possessive when it came to you. A secret he failed dramatically at keeping subtle, despite his best efforts. Leaving countless hickeys on you was his way of laying claim and always being present. The location of his marks would vary on how jealous he was feeling at the moment, more often than not done in random and manageable areas, something you could make do with by simply wearing clothes leaning more towards the baggy and conventional side. Albeit on days he exceptionally felt jealous, they were done in harder-to-cover-up regions, meant to ward off the lingering men that would shamelessly eye fuck you. You would often have to wear turtlenecks when going out because of how frequently he would leave bruises on you, mainly when it came to school. To plainly say he liked marking you would be an understatement with the undivided way he would indulge in it. It was a necessity for him, vamping you. It gave him a sense of undeniable ownership over you.

And truthfully, in a way, he did. The fact that you were cramped into a tight locker on the school ground making out with him and gave little to no fuck was proof. But it wasn't because you were unbothered by the current location and situation you and Steve were in, but rather because it was a losing battle. Steve's pampering was slowly swaying the best out of you, and your desire for submission was beginning to tip the scales, slowly but surely overpowering your morals and standards. Your body was craving him — needed him, and it was starting to fog your reasoning.

Steve parts from your neck to focus on playing with your right helix instead. The sly sensation of his callous left hand snaking beneath your shirt in a slow, tantalizing descent sends sparks running down your spine. He breaches the back of your pants with one swift movement and catches you off guard by cupping the fullness of your ass with such force that it makes your breath hitch. However, he doesn't just stop there, quickly following up on his advance by longingly dry-humping against you. His pants were still on, but even then, you could feel the eager way his dick pulsed against your erection as he continued to grind into you, the receiving pleasure muted from the thin layers of fabric tightly keeping his cock from being out and exposed. But Steve doesn't bat an eye at that. He just wanted to feel you on him—to feel you squirming against his cock. And luckily for him, that is just what you do.

A minute or two passes by with him just desperately rutting against your pelvis and you lewdly pushing back against him to help him attain that euphoric friction he was no doubt chasing. Your bodies were moving on their own, taken over by lust. Everything you did was done subconsciously, and you wanted to tell him to stop. To disclose that someone could walk past and hear what the both of you were doing at any given minute, that you could get into serious trouble for what you were doing, and who you were doing it with— but the tightness of his pants as he forced his bulge against you had you involuntarily rocking your hips back instead, your mouths sealed shut… A losing battle.

"St-steve." You can't help but moan.

Your hands reach to entangle your fingers into his hair, and you pull it hard enough to spur him into action, groaning. Steve temporarily breaks from you and leaves you high to quickly fight with his zipper, the aching throb of his sleuth encouraging his hands to go faster.

And sure enough, this time around, when he presses into you, something objectively bigger, pointier, and warmer pokes into the right side of your abdomen, crushed sorely between the sweaty heat of your pressed bodies when Steve retakes his position against you to capture your lips. He moans and humps the soft cup of your palm when you deftly maneuver your hand in between you to take hold of his dick, proudly smirking when you feel Steve shiver against you at your touch.

"…Please…" His voice breaks. "…I need you."

The raw adrenalin and rage of hormones coursing through you only make it possible for you to manage a meager nod in response, your mind stunted and overwhelmed. You couldn't think — at least, you didn't want to. You only wanted Steve, and you wanted him deep inside of you.

Your prayers are answered when Steve pins you harder against the wall by fully pressing the rest of his weight onto you, using the fact that his left hand was already in your pants to gently prod at your hole with the slender tip of his finger — circling, tapping, and rubbing at it through the thin fabric of your brief. You close your eyes. He was being a tease.

You can't say that to your surprise. Steve has always been hellbent on breaking you to the right amount of desperation, knowing that it would be far easier to make you give in to his whims if your needs were taunted, just one "please" away from being met. He would also bask in the way your face would crumble with utter bliss every time you were finally given what your body yearned for… Him.

The motion of Steve's hand snaking up to grasp at your chin forces your eyes back open, and nothing but the image of a devious smirk and a dangerous pair of promiscuously starved eyes invades your line of sight. He stands there, frozen, unfazed by the desperate way your body uncomfortably twined against him at the sudden lack of action. If it weren't for the eager way his dick throbbed against your stomach, you would have thought him frozen.

But no.

That wasn't it.

Steve was actively refusing to give you any more pleasure. "Steve-" 

"No."

"But-"

"Wait."

His voice is stern and quick, coming off as raunchy, and it doesn't take long for your brain to register the sinister way he looks at you. It was as if you were prey — something small and vulnerable caught readily in the sharpened claws of an apex predator… Him.

You knew that look, that bubbling rise of primalness in his eyes. The instinct to dominate whatever was in front of him lurking closely underneath. A look he gave you specifically when something especially vindictive came to mind.

Your thoughts are confirmed when Steve releases his body pressure off you with one sudden movement and takes a step back to lean on the door, his middle finger stuck out and leveled perfectly with his hip, aligned suggestively beside his dick. It mimics the latter in the defiant way it points directly at you, and Steve is quick to stop any confusion. He smirks.

"You want me in you… right?" He taunts, his eyes gleaming with mischief when you nod back at him. "…Then work for it."

It takes you a moment to fully register his demand, your eyes blown semi-wide and fixated on the crooked smirk drawing the bruised red of his lips. You don't move or say anything, and Steve only arches a brow in response. Your brain was telling you that this was all just a game, that Steve would blow his facade and burst out chuckling any minute now, saying sike and that he was only messing with you. Steve doesn't move, not even in the slightest…He was dead serious.

You take the two steps necessary to close the distance between you, trying your best to divert your gaze from him to avoid staring him dead in the eye, not wanting to see the smug expression that was, no doubt, gracing his face at your show of submission. Steve had an ego—and one that helped him considerably when it came time to take the lead as the dominant role in bed; something he took to quite effortlessly, might you add, and has been confident and comfortable with ordering you around in and out of your sex life ever since.

Steve chuckles softly when you come to a stop and finally gather the will to look up at him, his eyes gleaming expectantly for the entire duration of you trying to awkwardly shift yourself around the room to fix yourself in front of his body. Your back was faced toward him with your butt licentiously perked out for access, and Steve bites his lip at the sight of it. He was struggling to keep himself from pouncing on you.

You slowly lower yourself onto him, and your legs quake with such density that they threaten to give out right beneath you. You could practically feel the arrogance rolling off of Steve in waves, his fiery gaze burning into the tender skin of your neck from behind, ablaze from the vulnerable way your body reacted to him. It intensifies more when you unintentionally let a moan slip.

"You're going to have to go faster than that if you don't want somebody to catch us." He taunts, moving from his resting spot on your shoulder to nibble on your right helix.

You remind yourself that you're in a literal closet to refrain from cursing him out of embarrassment, choosing to use the little rational thinking you have left to grit your teeth instead. "…Shut up, Steve…"

Steve grins almost devilishly at your demand, and goosebumps emerge on your skin.

"Should you really be talking like that to someone who has you at their mercy?" He questions, leaning into the curve of your back to rest his chin on your shoulder to whisper into your ear. "I could turn you into a bitch in heat with just the curl of my finger."

Steve carefully caresses your prostate to exaggerate his point, biting your collarbone at the crumble of your expression. You were depriving him of the heavenly satisfaction of hearing you moan by trying to stay quiet, and he was slowly starting to disapprove of that.

He liked it when you were vocal. It was an indirect say to how good he was when it came down to pleasuring you, something he took immense pride in. Steve wanted to hear you moan his name—to see you on your knees, begging him to take charge of you.

But you were too shy when it came to sex for that. At least when you still had your sanity. Steve knew all he had to do to bring out that lewd side of you was to tease your limited patience until you eventually grew frustrated enough to take matters into your own hands. You just needed a proper push. One strong enough to have your guard break and have you moaning his name with no care in the world. You were too occupied mentally with the fact that you were in school, making you tense and dramatically stunting your performance.

Steve pulls his middle finger out of you to clump it with his index and ring fingers before collectively spitting on all three of them, not wanting to risk chafing you. It goes without saying that when he retires to re-penetrate you, the doubling of size stops him from sliding in effortlessly, that blissful pressure on your sphincter increasing. Fuck. It was taking everything within him to stop himself from ravishing you. He wanted to take things slow by steadily easing you into it, not wanting to scare you. But you were making it hard with the uncontrollable way you continued to quiver all cute against him, and his body was starting to get impatient with the lack of attention on his part, his dick throbbing poorly for action.

He takes his frustration out on your neck instead, trailing the thick of it and going down to its base while leaving hickey after hickey on his heated expedition to your collarbone, gently nicking it with his teeth.

"You'll have to stretch yourself out more than that if you ever want to take me." Steve mocks.

And as much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You had barely gotten much down with just his middle finger, more focused on the pleasure it was providing you rather than using it to open yourself up to accommodate Steve.

You steadily ease your body onto the clump of his fingers while trying your best to suppress your moans and gradually allow all three of his digits to pierce the defensive tautness of your hole. Another groan rips its way out of your throat when you feel Steve's fingers buck against your prostate, making him smirk. It was getting more difficult for you to control your urges and moans, your body slowly releasing the tension that had you tense and stuck up in the first place, getting more reckless by the second. Steve enjoyed every second of it— of you.

It wouldn't be long before you would be on your knees begging for him to break you in. Something he thought well deserved of you. Especially after how shamelessly distracting you had been in class, sending him nude after nude and tauntingly smirking at him while sitting and doing suggestive things when his eyes would temporarily catch yours. He would have gotten in trouble for the bulge you provoked if it wasn't for the thick fabric of his jeans.

Steve takes his unoccupied hand to dearly caress your jaw before gently kissing it, only daring to remove his lips when he uses his grip on your chin to bring your head closer to his. His lips find solace on yours with such assertion that it rivals that of a snake coiled to prance. His tongue laps and tangles with yours, the both of your spit intermingling at the ball of your tongues. And as much as he wanted to, Steve didn't take over. Not yet. You weren't ready yet. He plays the field justly, trying to avoid overpowering you with his tongue's movements and striving to keep the power level even.

Steve parts from you with a heated breath, a single strand of spit connecting you as you melt into his embrace, your back still arched and with Steve's fingers enthusiastically exploring the depths of you. It was as if your body was limp and Steve was your support cane, your expression dazed and eyes thoughtlessly crinkled. Your mind was nothing but a complete maze of haze, and it took one look on Steve's part at them for him to know that you were finally ready.

His fingers depart from you with a sickening squelch to find comfort on either side of your hips, still slick. Now nothing was blocking him from being entirely flushed with you, and that meant his dick resting firmly on the plump top of your ass, his tip poking angrily into the arched curve of your back. Steve shudders when you grind back onto him, groans of approval leaving him to run several laps in your ears. His breath gradually ascends into something aggressive, becoming shallower and more inconsistent with each minute he anticipates being in you.

"Can I put it in...?" Steve growls, swallowing, the exposed veins along his body bulging appealingly as his chest heaves. His throat felt dry.

Steve's face was red, and evidently more so, his dick, the thirstful movement of his hands on your body evidence of him not being able to withstand another minute of not being in you. Steve grabs his dick and aligns it perfectly with your hole in one eager movement.

His tip prods your sphincter, his hand on your waist steadily easing you back into him. Steve wanted so desperately to be in you. So badly for the both of you to get lost and revel in the moment—the pleasure. He wanted to fuck you into oblivion. The feeling of your hand reaching in between your twined bodies and wrapping around him encourages a shock-like almost chill to shoot through his legs, and his hips subconsciously jerk forward. "Y/N... Please..."

The tip breaks the protective tightness of your hole with the first supported thrust of Steve's, and he has to plant his head in your neck to ground himself. You were tight; hot, the combination of both turning his brain to mush. It was almost pathetic how easily his body crumbled into submission the second he was within you.

Steve bites your nape when you finish inserting his dick, his toes curling in the confines of his shoes. "Fuck~"

The pleasure was immense—overwhelming with the degree of ecstasy that washed over him like tidal waves, lapping against his skin until they eventually crashed against the rocky shores of his consciousness. With that one slow thrust, everything was lost, and Steve found himself mentally fighting to refrain from reaching his all-time high. He couldn't come. Not after the big game he put up earlier.

He stays there for a minute or two, allowing you and him some time to adjust to the incinerating pleasure your bodies were simultaneously drunk off of. Steve only dares to move when he doesn't feel like one contraction on your part will make him prematurely ejaculate. It tears a trembling moan from you, and Steve uses it as an opportunity to slide both his middle and ring finger in your mouth, playing with your tongue by repetitively pulling and clasping at it, the spit backing up in your throat threatening to choke you ever now and then. Your brain teeters on the edge of going white, braindead—utterly blank from the restrictive breaths Steve's fingers were allowing you. It was already a mess—you were already a mess, and Steve's roaming hands were only making it worse. Steve doesn't stop though, seemingly unaware of this by the lustful way he continued to fuck into you. He was turning you into a sweaty, heated, quivering bitch-in-heat. It didn't help that his unyielding grip on your tongue was starting to make spit trail out from the right side of your mouth and pool at your collarbone.

You're allowed a break to breathe when Steve pulls out his fingers to grab at your waist, his dick still managing to pulse wildly within you despite the prolonged session it had to endure. He was breathing shallower, his pace shifting into something increasingly breathy with each thrust—heavy and inconsistent. His thrust faster, harder, and more erratic, Steve forces moan after moan out of you, his teeth breaking the feeble skin on your neck when he sinks his teeth into your nape.

The lewd sounds you were making were no doubt rebounding the school halls from the lascivious way it echoed the room you were in. If anything, you were practically a stereo on blast for all within range to hear. And at first, it was scary. You didn't want to get caught, not in such a scandalous position. Yet, all the same, you were stirred...exhilarated, almost. As much as the idea of getting caught terrified the living hell out of you, it was arousing you to limits you didn't even know were possible. It was as if the dread of getting caught was an unfaltering flame, the precariousness of your situation infinitely fuelling your lust. You wanted it—carved it, and that made you feel sick.

You're broken out of your thoughts with a harsh groan in your right ear from Steve and him cursing. Your back was still arched, your face tiredly plastered against the closet's wall. You can feel the tedious way Steve's muscles clench and unclench against you: his arms, his legs, his torso... his dick. He was going to cum.

"mm~ Wait- Steve~" You tried to warn, your voice slurred and your words broken. If he didn't stop ramming into you at the specific angle and stimulating your prostate, you were going to come all over the wall.

But Steve doesn't heed your warning, ignoring your plead altogether by brushing you off with another bite to your neck, just hard enough to leave another one of his marks behind. It seems to be the tipping point because not long after, you can feel something warm and slick shooting up into you, Steve groggily moaning in your right ear. He catches his breath by licking the swollen wound on your neck and nibbling on it, not making it long before you follow in his steps and ride a high of your own, coming yourself.

It makes Steve smirk in his resting position against you, his hands leaving your hips to tenderly rub at your arms, "We have 5 minutes until your next class..." Steve kisses you, "But we could skip it if you want to... I can see your legs trembling from here."

You try to retort, but your body is so tired that you can only grumble back at him in response, your mind focusing on one thing.

Steve came in you...

You lean back into him to catch your breath and playfully elbow him in the stomach when you do. "Your pullout game is weak."

But Steve smiles smugly at your attempt to belittle him and sets his chin on your shoulder to hover just off your ear. "Then you must like being filled if you're still with me."

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

“I can’t believe you let him do that to me”

- for your angst/hurt asks

Scapegoat (BAU x male!gay!reader)

Warnings: Homophobia, some slurs (f-slur), homophobic language, bad language overall.

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS WILL UPSET YOU

"(Y/N), I want you to interview him," Hotch said, "Alone." You falter, unsure of his orders.

"Hotch, do you really think that's a good idea?" Morgan cuts in before you could, ever the big brother figure.

"It'll be fine." He's quick to dismiss any worry, whilst normally that would be enough to dissolve your anxiety, your guy was telling you otherwise.

You nod slightly, trying to ignore the anxiety, you shoot Morgan what you hope is a reassuring smile before you head into the interrogation room. The Unsub, a man named Frank Carrington, looks you up and down with a smirk. You hold back a shiver as you slide into the seat in front of him.

"You must be a real expendable team member," Frank chuckles as he leans forward.

"Yeah? What makes you say that?"

"They put a fag in with someone who they suspect killed six of 'em." Your stomach drops at the slur and your glad your hands are under the table right now, because they're shaking.

"Did you?"

"Did I what?" The man huffs.

"Did you kill those men?"

"Why? Were they your special buddies?" Frank smirks, "They give you a real good time, huh?"

"Did you kill those men?"

"I ain't telling a fairy like you," He snorts, "Get me a real man and maybe I'll talk."

"Sounds like internalised homophobia to me," You quip, "Let me guess, you got jealous that these men had the balls to be out that jealousy turned to rage because you feel like you can never admit that you're gay."

"How fucking dare you-"

"How dare I what?"

"I ain't telling a faggot like you nothing!"

Despite your anxieties, and your thoughts racing, you manage to narrow your thoughts down to just getting a confession. And so, you tilt your head, "But Frank, can't you see? We're one in the same."

The lie leaves an acidic feeling in your throat, but it's what causing his downfall.

"I killed them because they're disgusting! They're sinners and I'm cleansing the world by getting rid of them! How dare you try and tell me I'm the same as you! How fucking dare you!" He shouts, slamming his heads against the table, smirking when you jump. "And while I'm in prison, you're going to be the one I fantasise killing. And when I get out? You're the first one I'm going after."

"Yeah, okay." You dismiss, leaving the interrogation room. You walk past Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss. Morgan looks up from the file, seeing your face, his stomach drops and he catches up to you as you make your way to the bathroom.

"You okay?" He asked as you made your way over to the sink.

"Fine." You answer, turning on the tap, splashing cold water onto your face.

"What happened?"

"Don't want to talk about it." You mutter before drying you face and then hands with some paper towels.

Hotch approached you as you exited the bathroom, "(Y/N)-"

"I can't believe you let him say those things to me." The words slip out of your mouth before you can fully comprehend what you've said. You barely recognise the look of remorse that flashes through Hotch's eyes.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry-"

"You fucking stood there as he called me all those things! You did fuck all!" You shouted, not caring about the looks you were getting about the attention you were drawing to yourself.

"We had to, for the case-"

"I don't give a fuck about the case Hotch you didn't even warn me! I would have been fine if you told me the plan!" You exclaimed, "But you didn't and then just fucking watched!"

You miss the glare that Morgan shoots Hotch, instead you continue, because you've got a hell of a lot to say and right now you don't care that he's your boss. "I'm not just some fucking scapegoat for you to use for getting confessions." You snap. "Believe it or not, Hotch. I have feelings."

"(Y/N)-"

"You know what? Next someone starts throwing slurs, you fucking sit in the same room as them, see how you feel, yeah? And I'll tell you that it's fine because it's for the case. We'll see if that makes the words hurt less, yeah? Especially when someone you trust is on the other side of the mirror, someone you trusted would stop the interview if it got out of hand." You scoff, not giving him a chance to reply before leaving the room.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ WHY AM I IN LOVE ALONE? (WHY AM I HURTING ALONE?) ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst with comfort | unrequited love, ex-cheater!Gojo, arranged marriage | wc: 8.5 k | not proofread

warnings: character death (Geto Suguru), mentions of infidelity, r! has self-esteem issues, r! has some dark thoughts about su!c!de, mentions of parent death, abuse from parents (r! is from an influential sorcerer clan, his family kinda sucks), talks of virginity

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

authors note: there are some time skips here and there, hopefully, it isn’t too confusing! I really appreciate all the comments on the first part of this and I hope this satisfies you guys!

The flame of the candle casts the room in an evershifting blue. Pulsing and moving, pushing and pulling as the shadows undulated. It resembles the way sunlight dances on the waves of the ocean, piercing through the waters to reach as far down as it could.

It reminded you of —

Of summer.

The candle flickers, sparks of orange briefly flying, just as your father walks through the door of cement. It takes five men to push but they do so without complaint. Your eyes squint to protect themselves from the fluorescent lighting of the hallway and the flame burns upwards in the offence.

The men hastily pull the door closed. Your ears itch from the grinding noise of stone and your skin warms from the candle but you say nothing.

Your father kneels across from you. Unbothered by the still-furious flame.

The candle is the only barrier between you. It sits on top of cylindrical stone; the melted wax nearly covers the top, some dripping down the sides but you’ve never seen this candle shrinking or the flame dimming.

The room you’re in is one of great importance to your family. It was taller than it was wide. Dark as sin without this cursed flame. The (L/N) family nearly fell into ruins some century ago, a member of your clan decided to turn this room into a place where no secrets would be safe, so you’d have no enemies.

After he had done this, your clan flourished.

It served its purpose. No lies could be told in this room.

“Is Gojo Satoru in love with you?”

The flame calms from its fury. As if listening.

“Yes.”

Sparks of orange fly, shooting from the wick and pathetically fizzing out. His eyes darken, swallowing that gorgeous blue like a black hole.

“So your mother speaks truthfully.”

He had hoped it was just mindless gossip — misplaced anger from his own infidelity. Your father was never one to admit your mother was right.

“Geto Suguru.”

His name makes you turn your eyes down to your lap. Your father’s frown deepens. Further settling into permanent lines of displeasure on his ageing face.

“My son, born of the (L/N) clan, promised to marry Gojo Satoru. A six-eye user, soon-to-be head of the Gojo clan. My son who had centuries of ancestors fought to put him in this position of power with a strong family name, riches and opportunities beyond belief.”

“Bested by a boy whose parents aren’t even curse users.”

That haunting blue burns steadily.

“This is your duty, as son of the (L/N) clan.”

“Father, how could I compete with Geto Suguru — “

Your father reaches through the flames and grabs your face. The skin of his arm reddens as the flame roars at the disrespect. It licks at your eyebrow, your eyes, your cheeks. It burns. Though not like a regular flame would. It doesn't eat away at your flesh and render the fat past that — the flame hisses, digs under your flesh, and sets your nerves ablaze.

The pain is white hot and you swear you burst a vein in an attempt to grit your teeth together. It's like you're burning from the inside out, your skull heating up and glowing from where your skin is stretched thinnest.

You've been through this time and time again but the pain never dulls. It pries your lips open and a strangled wail is ripped from your throat.

Your face is held so tightly your cheekbones feel as though one more gram of pressure would shatter it. His face splits through the fire as he scowls down at you.

“I will not let the decision of a 15-year-old boy destroy what I’ve tried so hard to build. This is bigger than you ever will be. Your marriage to Gojo Satoru will make our clan more powerful than ever.”

You weep as you nod your head while nails dig into the flesh of your thighs. He lets you go, pushing your face away from his hand as if he was tossing trash away. You back away, hands shakily hovering above where your skin feels as though it's sizzling. Like you always do, you lean on the wall and the cool wall is like heaven.

The flame calms just as your heart does, at times it is as though it pulses with the beating in your chest.

In those minutes, your father stays stoic.

“Love is worthless in matters of power. The things I ask you to do will strengthen our clan, and strengthen our abilities. Put your selfishness aside, boy. This is a debt you owe to your flesh and blood.”

“...Yes, father.”

“Why do people stay with someone like that?” Megumi scoffs from behind the couch. He’s dressed in his pajamas, hair still damp from the shower he took. Meanwhile, you were sitting watching the television, dressed for bed yourself.

“I think it's sweet,” you say. The series was truly ridiculous and overly dramatized. Some cheesy and soapy drama that plays at night when lonely adults need someone else’s problems to obsess over.

“He stays with her even with all her flaws.” Megumi’s face says more than he ever could. You laugh, beckoning him over to settle next to you.

This is the usual. Gojo is always busy with missions here and there. Sometimes even needing to get onto a plane - he could be gone for days at a time. Leaving you, Tsumiki and Megumi.

Well, just you and Megumi now.

He doesn’t react as you squeeze him a little closer, just tucking his legs comfortably to lean on you.

“Okay, but that doesn’t negate the fact that she’s hurt him. I mean, it’s honorable but — isn’t he tired? I mean, she slept with his dad. Twice!”

You chuckle, grabbing the towel he had slung over his shoulders to help him dry his hair.

“You were paying attention! I thought you hated this show,” Megumi rolls his eyes. “How can I not pay attention? It’s so stupid I can’t look away.”

“Please. Just admit you like watching shitty tv shows,” you tease.

“I really don’t,” he denies. Megumi shrinks a bit despite his words and you chuckle. The dialogue from the TV continues and Megumi relishes the ambience.

The way you gently dry his hair. The dumb characters talk about who slept with whom and what impossible surgeries they wanna do. The lingering scent of the takeout dinner you indulged in with him today. Your shampoo and body soap and the smell of the detergent you use help him sleep easier at night.

“Is it the same for you?”

He feels your fingers pause. Not frightfully, more confused. He continues as your movement does.

“You’re like this doctor. You stay even if he hurts you.”

“What are you talking about? Gojo’s never hurt me,” your tone was perplexed.

“I’m not blind," Megumi mumbles. You pull your hands away from Megumi, his towel now on your lap as you wait for him to turn around. He does.

Then a commercial plays, something about a new aquarium that’s just opened; it casts the living room in blue and your heart gets caught in your throat.

‘ It’s not the same, ‘ you tell yourself, ‘ I’m not my father. ‘

“Whatever gave you that impression?”

“You rarely call him by his name. You stay up when he’s here but turn in early when he’s not. You go to clan meetings alone but he brings you around everywhere when he’s here. Dates, gifts, compliments.”

Megumi shrinks under your gaze but meets your eyes unwaveringly.

“Every time you look like you’re about to smile at his jokes you just...pause and remind yourself about something...is it Geto?”

Megumi inhales sharply at the expression on your face. The commercial had come and gone and the next that plays is a stream of constant colour; chaotic and disarrayed. The red-orange and yellow make you look like a curse.

But then your eyes soften and his grip on his knees loosens.

“I — I saw a picture.“

There are pictures of Geto in the house. Gojo said he would be fine without it but you found it ridiculous how much hurt he thinks he’s saving you from. You were already brought to your knees and metaphorically beaten down by the man you love and the man he loved; your best friends.

A picture of the four of you in high school wasn’t going to make you less or more pained.

Megumi’s asked about Geto before. But not like this; not like he knows something he shouldn’t. Geto wasn’t a forbidden topic.

But.

Your children deserved better than that. They should believe that love is important and that their fathers are there for them through whatever it is. That Satoru and (Y/N) were not going to just disappear and leave them to fend for themselves.

“On his flipphone.”

Of course.

Of course he kept that useless piece of crap.

Of fucking course.

“The wallpaper was of them. They seemed closer than friends. Did Gojo hurt you because of Geto?”

“Despite his flaws, he’s still my husband, Megumi.”

That doesn’t satisfy your son. His brows twitch and he gets that defiant look in his eyes that makes your stomach twist into knots. The ghost of that man, Megumi’s biological father, always sweeps through your brain every time he gets so stubborn.

You don’t hate Megumi because of it. Gods know how much you wish you weren’t a (L/N) — you wouldn’t have chosen your parents. Your mother, absolutely. Your father could go rot in hell with his new wife.

“But you’re unhappy.”

“I’m not — ”

The trailer of a movie plays; it casts the room in orange for a brief few seconds.

“You are. You’re lying. I’m not a little kid anymore, I’d be fine if you...if you divorced Gojo, I don’t mind if you move out. If you’d let me, I’d stay over. A kid from my school has divorced parents, he seems fine. He said it made his parents happier.”

“Megumi — “

“I can take it. You don’t have to stay together for Tsumiki and me anymore. You’ve raised us well.”

Not well enough if he’s pleading for you to leave Gojo.

“You’re just a boy. You don’t know what you’re saying. I think the TV show is really starting to get to you,” you jest. Megumi’s never been one for jokes though. Especially not ones as dumb as yours. Your awkward grin falls and you sigh.

“It wasn’t because of Geto. Suguru and Satoru...”

Megumi’s ears prick. He could count on his hands the number of times you’ve uttered Gojo’s name. Each time, it’s said with such bitter longing. The rotten essence of first love and cruel summers dripped from every syllable. This time, however, there’s a softness to it, an emotion Megumi would later know as yearning.

“They were the strongest and they were inseparable. With Suguru, Satoru could just be. With Satoru, Suguru felt worthy.”

“I was,” you sucked in a breath. “I was...there. Yes, it hurt me but I love Satoru, Megumi.”

How could you not?

Those heavenly eyes and boyish grin. His lips seem painted by the angels and his hair spun from those impossible-to-reach clouds and the purest of light. Satoru was beyond beautiful.

He was funny, brash, and annoyingly persistent. His very existence was irritating to some; he was good at everything. His hands were like Midas, everything he touched turned into gold.

Nonetheless, he was human. You would know better than most. When Suguru left Satoru looked like a facade of a young god. That’s what Suguru did to him that you never could. Suguru made him human.

So you didn’t blame Satoru for falling in love. You couldn’t even blame Suguru for falling in love.

You were an obligation chosen out of his own comfort. (Y/N), his precious friend whom he’d marry once the two of you were 17 years old.

You were duty and honor. You were a reminder of his godhood. He was untouchable and ethereal; even so, he wanted nothing more than to fall into the arms of the one person who could make him unravel his soul. He held Suguru more preciously as you aged until he couldn’t anymore.

“I love him.”

“But you’re sad. He makes you...sad.”

It pained you to see Megumi try to understand. He was your son. This talk of a loveless marriage and divorce, him saying he would be fine with the aftermath as if he would have to carry responsibility for it.

He was just a boy. He was your boy and he’s trying to protect you when it should be the other way around.

So you shake your head and reach forward to cup his cheek in your palm.

“I still love him, Megumi. Sometimes, that’s enough.”

Megumi wants to tell you it isn’t.

If love was enough, his mother would be alive and his shitty father would have stayed to be a father to Tsumiki and him.

If love was enough, Tsumiki wouldn’t be in a coma.

But he says nothing and just shrugs. He murmurs a half-assed agreement and then stands from the couch. He goes to bed that night, wishing nothing more than to see the world from your eyes. You were his father. More than his own was.

Gojo was a busy guy so he warmed up to you first. Despite how tough it was for you to navigate being a teenager yourself as you raised him and his sister.

He just wanted to make you happy. Because clearly, you were incapable of doing it.

Megumi found it hard to sleep that night.

“Awh, asleep already?” Gojo frowned as he peeked into Megumi’s room. He was supposed to arrive the next morning but he missed his family. So he took an earlier flight.

A creak made him look your way and his eyes widened.

“Don’t bother him, Gojo.”

“(Y/N)…” his footsteps sound tentative as he walks towards you.

“Don’t look at me like that, I was just watching a sad movie is all. Megumi stayed up late, so don’t wake him. He’s got school tomorrow.”

Gojo doesn’t believe you. The way he’s gazing at you is as if you were the most pathetic curse to have ever graced the earth. Had he ever looked at Suguru that way before his betrayal?

Gods, even the thought of him has your brain pulsing. Those lost summers and cozy winters were yours too but of course, for Satoru, it must’ve been different.

To you, they were everything because your friends were there. More importantly, Gojo was there.

To him, his Suguru, they were all they needed.

You wipe away some of the tears, sniffling and turning away from Gojo. “You came home early. I didn’t cook dinner tonight, but I can heat-up some leftovers,” Gojo follows you to the dining area. He wants to ask if you are okay, even if he already knows the answer.

‘ Is it Suguru? ‘

It’s on the tip of his tongue. It’s been 9 years since his betrayal, your mother's funeral, your father's wedding. Between Tsumiki and Megumi, and the missions there was never a chance to have that conversation.

But what if it wasn’t? You were more than that. You existed beyond the shadow that Suguru cast — in Gojo’s eyes anyway.

The microwave dings and it casts the kitchen in a warm yellow glow. “How was the mission?” He watches you make a plate, standing near the kitchen island with his arms by his side. “It went great. The uh, the plane ride there was sorta bumpy though.”

“Yeah? You got scared or sumthin’?” He takes his bandages off, eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place.

‘ He’s making jokes, talking casually, ‘ Satoru thinks. His palms feel a bit clammy. “Hah, as if. Even if the plane was fallin’ I’d definitely get out of there,” he boasts with that careless smile.

You offer a chuckle, turning just as your smile fades into a polite purse of your lips. The plate is placed in front of him and he’s not hungry but he sits anyway.

Huh.

So this is what having an intimate dinner is supposed to feel like? It creeps in that you’ve never been on a date outside of this marriage. He had never wooed you before Geto. It was all casual and friendly. Even if it was just the two of you, your guardians would keep watch to ensure that nothing got too passionate.

Where were they when Gojo snuck into Geto’s room? Night after night, week after week...

He had never touched you like that. Every time he tried, you found yourself pushing him away. Not out of bashfulness or lack of attraction. You just can’t help but wonder if he’ll replace you with Geto in his mind and your heart breaks every time.

9 years of marriage and still, your bed was cold as ice.

At times you would feel panic, wondering if Gojo is with another body to fill that void that you can’t fill but then it ebbs away.

Because they weren’t Geto either. So they were just as meaningless as you.

You grimace.

To think you’d blush and swoon at the idea of your marriage. Enamoured at the fact Gojo chose you. Now here you are. A resentful friend, a horrid husband, and a failing father.

If it weren’t for Tsumiki and Megumi you would’ve been hanging from the ceiling or perhaps you’d “let your guard down” during a mission. Maybe even in front of your husband. Your train of thought is cut short as your mother’s face appears. Stiffening your lip, you turn your gaze to the table to collect yourself.

Gojo watches you shifting around and reaches a foot forward to bump into yours. He smiles at the way you get wide-eyed, frozen for a second.

“How was your day, my beloved?”

“I went to Jujutsu High to oversee Megumi’s transfer,” his brows lift.

“Already?”

“Just to make things easier, Gojo. So it isn’t so last minute. He practised summoning his Divine Dogs today too.”

You’re wringing your hands together, folding and unfolding your fingers all while glancing at the table. It reminds him of the day he found out you had feelings for him.

You were sat across from him just like you are now. The both of you were 15 and hungry, so you offered to pay for lunch. Suguru and Shoko had gone off to grab condiments and he saw it; that look of adoration in your eyes.

You were handsome and kind. A true friend to him, Suguru and Shoko. Then an idea popped into his head, an idea he’d never proceeded with if he had known the repercussions.

If he wed you, he’d still be able to be close to Suguru.

He was selfish. Suguru told him that it was cruel, you were their friend and this would hurt you.

“Satoru that’s cool-blooded. He’s had a crush on you for a year now, you shouldn’t,” Suguru murmurs.

“It’s just a crush, he’ll probably divorce me or something. Then, I’ll marry you, Suguru.” He interlaced his fingers with Suguru. Naked shoulder pressed to naked shoulder. His 16th had just passed, he’d have to marry you after his 17th birthday but it’s alright. He told himself you would get the message and he’d have Suguru. Duties fulfilled and promises honored.

“What?” Suguru’s eyes were so wide it was almost hilarious. Satoru turned on his side, outlining the traces his lips left on Suguru’s skin.

“Will you marry me, Suguru?”

Satoru’s guilt wraps around his heart with its sorrowful roots. He wonders if you think you’re ugly, or unworthy. His fondness for you wants nothing more than to hold you. You were his friend after all, before all of this; the missions the four of you would go on together were the highlights of his life.

He didn’t mean to hurt you.

The food tastes like ash in his mouth but he swallows it down.

“We should go out tomorrow.”

You blink at him, contemplating. He can see the tearstains on your skin, the wetness on your philtrum that you’ve tried to wipe away and the way your lashes are clumped together.

“Anywhere you wanna go, after we drop ‘Gumi off we’ll be off to the races. We could go shopping or —”

“I want to go on a mission with you.”

That catches him completely off guard. You offer a grin, and the slightest flash of teeth has Satoru nodding before you even get to say another word.

He owes you this. You deserve happiness.

“Of course, anything you want.”

Gojo should’ve stopped there. Said nothing else.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

All at once, he sees your eyes turn hollow and your smile tightens.

You don’t believe him.

“...Thank you, Gojo.”

Ever since, that’s the only way you responded to his “I love you’s”.

Thanking him for trying to convince you and himself that it was true.

Megumi’s never seen your father before. He looks so out of place at home. His hulking form and intimidating face were so rough like unpolished stone. He should be elsewhere, not eavesdropping like he is now but he can’t help himself.

Gojo had to tend to business and you couldn’t turn away your father. You knew what he was here to talk about anyway and after last night's screaming match with your husband, you were as tightly wound as a coiled snake.

“How is your wife, father?”

“She is healthy.”

A vein bulges from the side of your head, rage pumping through it as your jaw clenches. His gaze scrutinizes you in such an obvious way it makes you want nothing more than to exorcise him.

“Gojo Satoru killed Geto Suguru. Is this true?”

How could it not be true? You thought bitterly. My guilt, Gojo’s crying, my outburst — all proof of his death.

He scoffs, a pleased quirk on the corner of his lips.

“I suppose you’ve done well then, my son. You didn’t even have to do any bloody work.”

“You know nothing, father. Geto Suguru’s death was a tragedy, don’t you dare turn it into a victory,” you seethe.

“He was a troublemaker. A waste of breath — a weakling. He deserved all that he got, don’t tell me you’re sympathizing with a murderer?”

“He was my friend!” Megumi flinched as you yelled.

“If you hadn’t pushed me and Satoru to marry, all this pain would have been avoided. We would still be friends, I could grieve for him without bitterness in my heart!”

You have no more tears to give. Instead, your anger burned like an inferno, burning you from the inside as you glared at your father.

“You’ve ruined me just like you ruined my mother. Where is duty? Honour? All of that is just trampled by your greed! You are dishonorable! Disgusting! Selfish!”

“You dare speak to me that way?” He lifts his hand and Megumi's palms hover close to stop him. The doors slide open. Satoru stands there. Even with his blindfold on, his gaze is heavy.

He calls your father's name. He doesn’t hide his disrespect. No titles were shared. No acknowledgment of his relation to you. He was beyond mad.

“It’s best if you leave, old man.”

Your father lowers his hand and you realize your nails are digging into your palm as blood seeps through your fingers.

“This younger generation truly knows no respect. Does it pain both of you to be together? Is my son so ugly, Satoru?” He laughs derisively. “Put a pillow over his face as you take him then! Gods knows I did the same with his mother.”

You open your mouth and yell, an ugly yell that's so full of anguish and anger; no words or vulgarity. A scream that makes Gojo’s throat hurt hearing it. Your father looks at you in disgust, shaking his head as he turns his back to you.

“Pathetic.”

You lunge at him and Gojo stops you, gathering you into his arms as you try to reach for your father.

“I’ll kill you!”

“Beloved, that’s enough —”

“You monster! I’ll burn you alive!”

“(Y/N)! He’s gone! That’s enough!”

Gojo doesn’t know why but he lets his infinity down. He lets you dig your fingers in his shoulder, and scratch the back of his hands as he tries to gather your wrist and grunts as your head bumps into his.

“I’ll kill him! Let me kill him!”

He grabs your wrists and pushes them against your chest. You’re pinned to the wall and the more you struggle the more he presses on your chest. It forces you to take deep breaths, and for your brain to catch up with your body.

“He should be the one that’s dead! Not my mother! Not Suguru! Him! Why isn’t he fucking dead!?”

Satoru can’t help but think of those final moments with Suguru.

How ragged his breathing was as he leaned against the wall.

“At least curse me a little at the very end.”

Suguru’s smile makes Satoru feel like a teenager again. He reaches forward and Suguru noses into his palm. Satoru’s breath comes out in a shudder. There he is, the man he loves more than anything, dying.

Suguru hums as Satoru leans over to hug him. Using the bit of strength he has left his head slots where it belong; in the junction of Satoru’s neck and shoulder. He remembers how ticklish he was there and manages a chuckle as Satoru flinches as his hair did just that.

He has so many things to say.

But he feels that wedding band and he’s glad that Satoru won’t be alone.

“You went on a date with (Y/N) at the crepe restaurant, I could sense your curse energy.” His daughters had wanted to go there after and Suguru remembered how bittersweet it was to sit where the two of you had sat. He had imagined himself as you and he’s struck with the want to see you and Ieiri and —

“I should have married you.”

Suguru’s eyes water. “Satoru —”

“All I do is hurt him. You were right, Suguru. I was cruel. If I married you, we would all be happy. Your daughters and my children, they’d be siblings. (Y/N) would have found someone who would never be as cruel as I am. We would still be friends. I should’ve married you. I should’ve married you.”

Suguru was selfish too. He resented you for having Gojo. It pained him to think about how lucky you were — he wished you misfortune.

What kind of friend does that?

You’d met his parents. Spent birthdays together, and went through lessons and missions together. How could he resent you and love Satoru and Shoko so dearly?

“I chose my path, Satoru. But in another life...in another life, we’re all happy.”

Satoru feels Suguru’s lips press to his jaw.

“You can make it right, Satoru. You love him, you’ll know what to do. Just don’t be so crass, yeah?”

Your yelling doesn’t cease. He’s half a mind to yell along with you because there’s truth in your words.

Why is it that everyone that mattered wasn’t here? Because they’d hold you and tell you were alright. Your mother would’ve done everything she could to ease your pain. Suguru would be here to do the same for both of you. What would they say if they were here?

What could they do to help you?

Help him?

Satoru lets you push him away. Megumi wonders if he should walk in now. He’d never seen you like this. He takes one step forward and Satoru speaks.

“I want a divorce.”

A pin could drop and Megumi was sure it would sound like an explosion. Your chest heaving slows as Satoru watches you straighten your posture.

“Do you live to embarrass me, Satoru?” You can feel his infinity go back up.

“Or is it me that embarrassed you? Should I allow my father to mock Suguru’s death? What am I meant to have done? What could I do to satisfy you, husband?”

“This marriage is hurting us.”

Your bark of laughter makes Satoru’s heart clench.

“A marriage YOU could’ve prevented. Did you forget that? You’ve had all the time to stop it. In those 3 years, you fucked Suguru and confessed your love to him. What exactly did you intend for my life?” You cross your arms, trying so hard to keep everything contained but your mouth can’t stop itself.

“Because I could have been fine. Maybe my father would have cast me aside but at least I would have moved on. Instead, you wormed yourself into my heart and infected me from the inside out.”

“Your mother just passed. I didn’t want to cause you more pain by canceling our wedding —”

Your palm doesn’t strike him but that isn’t with lack of trying. He can see the way your hands shake as you attempt to nullify his infinity. The trails of blood that drip down from your nails piercing through your palm from earlier. Your eyes were as dark as night as you stared at him with a blank expression.

“You are dishonorable, Gojo Satoru. You are selfish, and you deserve nothing you have. Not me, not Megumi, not Tsumiki, not Ieiri and you sure as hell didn’t deserve Suguru.”

He snaps at you. Slapping your hand away as he points a finger in your face.

“You don’t get to scream at me when I tried to make this marriage work! For 10 years all I’ve ever done was love you!”

“All you’ve ever done is bury Suguru by using me, Satoru!”

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” Megumi is frozen in place. He had never seen you fight before. Had never ever seen Gojo yell or lose his cool. He feels his heart hammering against his chest and clasps his hands together.

“Every time I touch you, you pull away! Every time I kiss you, you flinch — Fuck! Do I repulse you?”

“You don’t get to be pissed about not being able to fuck me, Satoru.”

He takes off his blindfold and those cerulean eyes shine with fury.

“Of course I fucking do! You want to be the martyr so fucking badly and you did it, (Y/N)! You’re the martyr!”

You don’t let him poke his finger into your chest but despite your smacks, he touches you anyway. He grasps your wrist and his grip is so tight you can tell it’ll bruise.

That horrifying blue sears your skin.

“I may be selfish but you’re fucking vindictive, (Y/N). You tell yourself that you’re nothing and somehow it comes true. Living, stewing, in a dead man’s shadow just so you can feel good about not returning my efforts!”

Just a few nights ago he was sweet. Telling you that he loves you and he wanted you. You never believed him and here was your proof, the labor of your hurt and pain stands before you with righteous ire.

“So I’m done! I’m done.” You shake your head. He scoffs, letting you go as if he was tossing trash away.

“(Y/N) — ”

“We’ll divorce next year. Next year on this day, I’ll allow you to divorce me. But not now. Not today. Call me a vindictive, vengeful, stubborn asshole. But what I’ll not allow you to do is humiliate me all over again.”

Satoru wants to say something, but the whine of an animal stops him.

When you find Megumi clutching the neck of his Divine Dog your anger disappears in an instant. He isn’t crying though it’s obvious he’s simply holding it back. The dog's part as you reach to cup his face, whispering his name as he attempts to steel his expression.

“...I’m so sorry, Megumi. I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs. Satoru sighs, combing his fingers through his hair as he crouches next to you.

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t have to listen to that," Satoru sighs. “I’m old enough — “

You stop him by pulling him into a hug. He’s stunned, his face would have been comical in any other situation so Satoru smiles.

“You’re just a boy. Don’t act so tough so soon,” Satoru reminds him.

The few things Satoru and you could relate to was how your children would never have to face the theft of their youth as long as you were alive. You squeeze him tighter and he returns it, burying his face into your shoulder.

Despite being pissed at Satoru, he says nothing as he feels him stroke his head.

The dogs whine again and nuzzle Satoru and you, licking Megumi’s ears and cheek to dissipate this acrid scent of fear and anxiety.

“Can I stay over with you sometimes?” You know what he actually wants to ask you.

‘ When you leave am I still allowed to need you? ‘

His shoulders sag in relief as you nod.

“You don’t even have to ask, Megumi. You know I love you, right? I’ll always love you, my beautiful son.”

“Couldn’t have gotten a place with better Wi-Fi?”

Shoko glares minutely as you pluck her cigarette out of her mouth. You put it in yours and she gags at the indirect kiss which makes you roll your eyes.

“Just because you’re single doesn’t mean I’m interested, (Y/N),” you scoff and shove her shoulder. She stiffens on purpose but sways a bit. It makes you laugh.

The house you bought was a cute duplex penthouse. Something small for yourself and for Megumi when he slept over. Shoko was the only person to have seen it so far — other than Megumi of course.

Your divorce was months away but it was far too awkward to sleep on the same bed as Satoru after that fight. This was for the best; baby steps until you’re officially separated.

“Hm, even if I was interested in women you’re not exactly my type.” She lights up another cigarette and leans on the railings of your balcony. Man, hate Satoru all you want but he sure was generous with his money. The view was stunning. It must have cost a fortune.

“So. You’re single now.”

You cringe and shrink down, limply holding the cigarette as you brace your chin on your arm.

“For the first time in 13 years...”

“27 is a perfectly good age to fuck around. Not too old to scare anyone of a respectable age off but not too young to make people feel like a creep.”

“You’ve such a way with words, Shoko,” you mutter dryly.

“I’m just saying, sex is a great way to get your mind off of things.”

“Says who?” She laughs, turning to you with a cocked brow.

“Satoru may be the golden child of the sorcerer world but he’s not a sex god. His dick isn’t that good, alright? There’s someone out there that’ll make you feel like a virgin again,” her laughter dies out as she takes note of your bashful eyes.

“...No.”

“What?”

Shoko's brows furrow. It’s the most expressive she’s ever been.

“10 years and not once?”

You hide your face further into your arms.

“(Y/N)!”

“Okay! We never had sex, alright? I — I don’t know if he ever went to get his dick wet from somewhere or someone else. But me and him never fucked. I’m an adult virgin! Sue me!”

“Not even a handjob?”

You groan, smushing the cigarette into the ashtray before going back inside. She follows, belatedly smushing her cigarette when you remind her with a look.

“Ok — Okay, but do you want to be a virgin? It’s perfectly reasonable if you do. I’ll respect your choices. But, why didn’t you...?”

“Shoko, every time he touched me...I felt like the ugliest person on this goddamn planet. We tried,” you sighed. “He tried a few times. Never pushy, never forcing but no matter what fucking angle he approached it from. I just couldn’t.”

Shoko slides her arm over your shoulder and you pliantly turn to return the hug. Her shirt, unsurprisingly, reeks of cigarettes but it brings a semblance of comfort. For a moment you’re washed over with nostalgia though for once, it comes with no pain.

“Well, you’re good-looking and you should definitely take half of Satoru’s money in the divorce. You’re good with kids too, a definite catch,” she presses a kiss on your forehead and you accept it with a loose grin.

“You deserve someone and if you don’t want anyone that’s fine too. Just promise to invite me out sometimes,” her eyebags suddenly seemed darker and so you give her another hug.

“I love you, Shoko.”

“I know. Unfortunately, I do too.”

“You love me,” you tease as your fingers wiggle and she pushes your face away ruthlessly.

“Heavy emphasis on the unfortunately — tickle me and I won’t heal you.”

She lets you escape her grasps, flabbergasted at her statement.

Satoru twists the ring, the light that it catches shimmering bashfully at his attentiveness. His husband had moved out, Megumi decided to sleep over after a whole day of helping him settle in and Satoru didn’t know how to feel about it. His hand feels naked and uncomfortable. The air that breezes lightly on the bare skin make gooseflesh ripple. The ring is enclosed by his fingers and he props his face on the fist, peering at the papers of this mission and that. The writing all look like giberrish, floating aimlessly in his brain as he thinks of (Y/N).

Had he truly never felt Satoru’s affections? It might have not been the love he deserved but to call it nothing was egregious. Or was he being selfish again?

Satoru pinches his nose bridge. His throat longs for the burn of alcohol which surprises him. He wasn’t much of a drinker — he wasn’t a happy drunk.

The ring grew warm in his hold and Satoru squeezed it. It always had the funniest way of doing that. It was as if it was alive, like a cursed object made to punish Satoru. Whenever his eyes wander or his mind reminisces of passionate nights, it burns and he resents himself for it. 10 years of involuntary celibacy was not something he thought of when he was younger. He liked sex. He doesn’t know if it was because it was good or because it was with Suguru. Regardless, Satoru enjoyed it.

He thought that if you got over that hurdle in your relationship, the two of you could fall into sync. He knows he cares about you and he knows you love him.

The house was so quiet. Satoru wants nothing more than to hear your soft breathing, Megumi’s sleepy mumbles and Tsumiki’s shifting around in bed.

He was supposed to be the strongest so why couldn’t he keep his family together?

Suguru told him that in another life they were all happy. But Satoru can’t help but ask himself why not in this life?

His hand unfurls and he slips the ring back in place.

(Y/N) Gojo is a Grade 1 sorcerer with extraordinary skill and wit in battle. His face was crafted by angels with feather-light touches, ones that thumbed the furrows of his brow with a sense of melancholy and kissed his eyelids with love; Satoru did not deserve you. He didn’t deserve to wake up with you by his side, caught by how beautiful you were when your guard was down.

Satoru suddenly wonders what made him unable to fall. It wasn’t your personality, nor your voice. You were funny, intelligent, headstrong, resilient, and everything most men fantasized about. Was it him? Even with all his attempts, his sweet gestures and words, did you see through it?

Did you see him?

What was it that you saw?

A tall child craving for his favorite person to come back?

…Was it a pathetic sight, (Y/N)?

Did you heart bleed for him?

Satoru stands, slipping the mission papers back into their files.

His guilt is a willow tree you had planted within him, tended by his own hands and watered with your tears. It’s beautiful and lonely, surrounded by flowers that climb and choke its branches as it hopes for someone to understand it.

You had. You understood the isolation he felt being on top and you supported him and got stronger to reach him. You saw right through him and he remained blind to you.

Shoko's name flashed across the screen of his phone. Satoru picks it up mindlessly, sitting on the end of your — his bed.

“You better give him half of your belongings in the divorce,” she says. He hears the burn of the cigarette as she inhales.

“Suguru was my friend. Just as much as he was (Y/N)’s.”

Satoru’s brow twitched. “Excuse me?”

“Suguru. I was there, believe it or not, and so was (Y/N). Suguru was our friend, our brother, our Suguru. We grieve him every day. Even before he was dead, we grieved him. I don’t fault you for being a shitty husband because of your grief, (Y/N) wasn’t the best husband either.”

“Don’t pretend to understand — “

“Get out of your head and stop mourning alone. All those years. When have you ever come to see me, Satoru? I was hurting too. ”

She exhales, flicking the ashes away as Satoru covers his wet eyes.

"I fucked up, Shoko." That was an understatement of the decade. She glances at the night sky, watching the buildings breeze past.

"I fucked up."

“Itadori Yuuji?” You squint your eyes at the papers, ignoring the warmth that Satoru emits from your side. You were at a clan meeting. One that Satoru decided to join so, you had no choice but to listen to him.

“Sukuna’s vessel,” he tilts his head, scratching the back of his neck from the uncomfortable button-up you forced him into. If he wanted to annoy you, you’d gladly return the favor. It was a few sizes too tight and the tie you put around his neck choked him but, he acted as cool as a cucumber.

“The boy Megumi found?” He nods and you read his papers with more fervor.

“You fought Sukuna?” He smiles cheerfully, grinning from ear to ear as he spins in place.

“I won,” he cheers. It takes all your self-restraint not to throttle him. “That was reckless,” you hissed out, ignoring the servants eyeing the both of you as they set down the trays of tea and finger foods.

“I’m the strongest. I would’ve won anyways,” he peers over your shoulder to read through the report again.

“Why are you showing me this? The higher-ups already called for his execution.” He places his chin on your shoulder. Your breath hitched yet, neither of you commented on it.

“I told them I’d kill them if they executed Itadori Yuuji,” he faces you as you turn to glare at him. Your lips were centimeters apart. Satoru takes note of your racing heart.

“Are you insane?”

“He’s just a boy doing what he could to save our son. Itadori shouldn’t have to be killed for doing the right thing.”

He lets you push his head away, slipping the papers back into the document sleeve and sliding it over to him.

“He will be executed once he eats all his fingers, he is a lamb sent to slaughter.”

At times like this, you think of Suguru and wonder if he was telling some truth about the world you lived in. Kids dying in droves because of curses that would never exist if non-sorcerers didn’t exist. But really, this was no one's fault but Sukuna. The old bastard couldn’t just die instead, he prolongs his existence like a roach.

"Megumi blames himself for that,” your heart squeezes at the thought. “They get along great, such rambunctious students. You would love them, you could spend more time with ‘Gumi.”

“Satoru, I’m not going to be a teacher. I’ve no patience for it,” he looks befuddled at your words. “You’ve been my husband for 10 years, so that’s a lie.”

The reminder of your marriage earns him a stink eye that he just giggles at. The official papers were to be served in a few more months. Until then, you were still together in the public eye.

“Just...think about it, (Y/N). I know you’ve been busy with missions and these boring meetings but I also know you miss Megumi and he missed you too.”

Gods, he’s playing that card. Why does he always need to play that card? He knows you give in every time.

“How have those missions been? You’ve been traveling a lot,” he puts Itadori’s file away and gives you his full attention. “Exhausting but it is fun to sightsee and make new friends,” you reach for the cup of tea.

“...Ya popped your cherry yet?”

The tea sprays onto the table and you cough violently as you save yourself from the near-death experience. A servant gasps and rushes to clean the mess, another asking if you’re alright and if the tea was too bitter or hot.

“You’re — You are — “ he grins as you cough and pats your back. “You are so gross, Satoru!”

He cackles at your flustered expression.

The servants leave eventually and you stew as you sit across from Satoru, back turned to him to stare out at the courtyard. Your silhouette makes his smile widen. He props his chin in his palm, taking in the sight of you.

“I wouldn’t mind if you had. I was just asking, as a friend.” He’s glad your shoulders don’t stiffen. The only reply he earns is your middle finger.

“Whaaat? I just wanted to know if it was good.”

“Is this how you’re going to convince me to be a teacher? By asking vulgar questions?”

“Not my intention but if I can kill two birds with one stone then why not?” You groan as you hang your head, hoping the ground will swallow you whole. Satoru hums a tune as he awaits your answers.

“Fine! Fine. I’ll be a teacher.”

“You’ve earned one mark! For a full mark, answer the other question!”

You’re tempted to throw the whole tea set to his face but can’t help the smile that crawls on your face at his animated movements. So you turn to face him, shaking your head as you sigh.

“No, I haven’t. Does that satisfy you?” Satoru’s slack jaw makes you want to punch him.

“Nearly four months of traveling and missions and meeting other people. Not one got into your pants?” You huff and cross your arms.

“So you’ve let someone into your pants, husband?” Satoru gasps. “How dare you? I’ve been a dutiful teacher and my students will attest to this!”

He then placed his elbows on the table, looking like a schoolgirl about to gossip.

“You should tell me all about your type, I’ll be more than happy to help you,” he draws hearts in the air with his finger.

Your type? You wanted to scold him and maybe even degrade him for acting like a perverted cuckold but this question catches you off guard.

You found Satoru attractive. Then again, who didn’t? But what was your type? You place your chin between your thumb and finger. Satoru waits patiently.

“I don’t know, I mean, I know I like men but...huh...”

You scratch the back of your neck.

“I guess I never really thought about it.”

Satoru exhales, endeared by the worry on your face. He was a shitty husband but Satoru was a good friend. You had put your life on pause for his. It was only fair that he helped you. He may not be able to fully piece together your heart but he’ll do what he can until you can smile again.

Those months away helped, there’s no doubt about it, but he knows you miss home and you needed to put down new roots in soil that wasn’t infested and toxic.

He knows you’ll probably take years to forgive him. He’s willing to wait, so he can have his friend back.

“We can start simple. Which one of our friends would you sleep with?” Your shrug makes him list some names. Then the sight of your eyes widening as he says Nanami Kento makes him gasp.

“Nanami!? Our underclassmen!?”

As Satoru guffaws and goes on about how boring Nanami was your mind ponders on this tightening of your chest.

Were you too lenient with Satoru? After all he has done?

You weren't without sin or fault. You understand that much but this feels so different. Familiar, actually, there's no expectation in Satoru's affections.

It was casual and it made you feel lighter than you have in a long time.

Should you be angrier? As a boy, his friendly attitude felt like a slap across the face. Now, it just feels right. Has your heart finally stopped beating for Satoru? All it took was 10 years of a shitty marriage?

It was rare for sorcerers to live as long as you have. A sense of panic grips you. For a moment, the thought of time wasted flashes. Then, those sweet memories of Tsumiki and Megumi seep in. Memories of Shoko, Satoru, Suguru and you laughing boisterously at something stupid while eating at the school field.

Your eye creases as your cheeks lift. Satoru is still rambling about Nanami and the only thing that makes him stop is a sound from his fondest memory.

You're laughing. Clutching at your stomach and tear-pricked eyes kinda laugh. His huff of disbelief transitions into a chuckle.

Oh, you forgot how good it felt to laugh this hard. It felt so nice to have him as a friend again. So fucking nice.

"His cheekbones are something to behold, I know, but did you forget his old hairdo?"

Satoru can see the warmth seep back into your skin, your eyes are glowing again as you cover your face; those heavenly shades of (E/C) peek through your fingers. The ring glimmers, and for a moment Satoru's chest doesn't feel heavy.

"You can do better, husband," he says. Your teeth are in full view. No longer hidden by a grimace or frown or a tight-lipped grin. There was still a long way to go but Satoru was willing to go the distance. For his beloved friend who deserves it all.

He can't wait to tell Megumi you are back for good this time. He can't wait to see you interact with his students. He knew you'd get along with them, they'd love you. Gods know they need a break from him at times.

"You're so fuckin' dumb, 'Toru," you exclaim. He agrees with a hum and for the first time in a long time, you feel like yourself again.

"Made you laugh though," he dodges the pillow you'd been kneeling on with glee.

[g4yforethan]

can you do another Nate Jacobs fic. maybe him taking male bttom reader's virginity

INTIMATE

pairing: nate jacobs x male!reader

summary: what the request says

warnings: cursing, top!nate, bottom!reader

a/n: thank u guys sm for the support on my page!! i am forever grateful <33

it was towards the end of 6th period and you were bored scrolling through the several apps you had on your phone. you got a text notification on your phone. it was from nate jacobs. you two had been talking for the past few weeks and secretly hung out outside of school. "hey i was thinking we chill at my house after school. my mom's outta town." the text read. you got excited and replied yes and the school bell rang. you left the school building and walked a block down to a parking lot where nate always picked you up. you saw his black truck and got into the car. he gave you a kiss on the lips. "hey baby you ready?" he says as you nod your head yes and the two of you drive to his house.

as soon as the two of you got out of his car, nate picked you up and rushed you inside to his room. he laid you on your back and began to kiss you on your lips and neck. you put your hands on his back and moaned as he gave you several hickeys. he ran his lips through your chest and made out with your nipples as he savored every bit of your body. "fuck baby i wanna do it." he said to you. "do what nate?" he looked at you with a desired look on his face. "i wanna fuck you so bad." nate knew you were a virgin which turned him on even more and this time you were ready for it. "i want you to fuck me right now."

the smile on his face said it all. he turned you around and took off your pants and began to lick your hole. you moaned as he licked and kisses your hole for what seemed like forever. he smacked your ass and began to tease your hole by putting his finger inside you. he then put another finger inside and then another. "please nate just fuck me already." "i gotchu baby boy." he unzipped his pants as his 9 inch cock grew inside your hole. he went at a slow pace putting his hands on your waist having your hands behind your back. each stroke started to become more intense as he started to dig deeper in your hole. "fuck your hole is so tight." as he went faster, he pulled your hair back and smacked your ass leaving several marks and scratches on it.

"fuck im gonna cum baby." you feel your hole be filled with nate's cum. he moans as he lays on your back and kisses your back as well. "fuck baby. first time and you got me wanting round 2 already." you smiled and gave him a kiss on the lips. "only because i was in the mood. i was really just wanting to fall asleep with you right now" nate laughed. "haha we can do that right now baby." he gave you a kiss and put his arms around your body as the two fo you began to doze off.

[gambleminds]

req: oc x chubby male reader where oc is a stalker and kidnaps reader, and the reader is just honestly so confused that 1 someone took the time out of their day to kidnap him and 2 that they're obsessed with them them

can it also be smut? thank you!

note: Aww!! I thought of the stalker being kind and gentle towards the reader, like praising the reader and all that.. kicking my feet and giggling rn.

warnings: kidnapping, oc is very gentle with reader, softdom oc, praise, aftercare not written but of course provided, reader has low self-esteem, possessive behavior, stalker-ish behavior (reader mentions it once), dacryphilia, mirror sex, oc appreciating your body, spit as lube, first time, fingering.

You couldn't understand why in the world would someone ever kidnap you, you thought to yourself that you weren't handsome nor attractive. people would make fun of you because of your physique, you couldn't look at yourself at the mirror time to time.

"Why did you kidnap me? You know, there's better looking out there. Why did you choose me out of all those people?" You asked him, confused as to why he kidnapped you. You didn't want to fight him, but you only had some questions that you needed him to answer.

"Dear... to me, you're beautiful the way you are. When I first catched a glimpse of you in high school, I knew that I needed you to be mine." He admits, his words were sweet and gentle. As if his words actually comforted you during this situation, although his only goal was to make you his but he meant all those words from his own heart.

"How long have you been stalking me?" You asked. You couldn't believe someone would ever stalk you.

"Since high school dear." He answers calmly as he walks up to you to admire your handsome face.

"...Since high school?! people must've made fun of you for being obsessed with me." You sighed. You couldn't believe what he said.

"Honey, who cares what people have to say about me? I don't care about them, I don't care if they see me as odd. In fact, they're the odd one. Only loving others by how they look physically." He explains, as he caressed your cheek trying to comfort you. He doesn't like it whenever you talk badly about yourself.

An hour later, now he had you on his lap in front of a mirror. He slowly took off your shorts before massaging your thighs with his free hand. Meanwhile, he spat on his other hand's fingers.

He finally took off your boxers before he then slowly fingers you. He was going slowly because he wanted you to get used to the feelings of his fingers.

"Ngh... f-feels weird.." You moaned. You felt his fingers massaging your insides, and it was one of the sensations you had never felt before.

"Hm? Is that so.. it must be your first time then, yn." He says, but still, his movements were gentle because he made sure you would enjoy every second of this.

He finally finds your prostate, it made you moan loudly and hold onto him tightly, as if you were holding onto him for dear life.

"Nghk!!~ t-there.. it feels so weird yet so good.." You moaned. You felt like crying from how good he fingers you.

"Already crying from me fingering you? yn, you're gonna turn me on even more..." He whispered in your ear, making you blush.

He made you look at the mirror, your face all flushed, and tears flowing down from your cheeks and your own drool mixing with sweat as well.

"God, look at you. Aren't you such a pretty boy?" He praised you, which made you let out a whine.

[sawyer-is-not-my-name]

Percy Jackson x Son of Anteros Reader x Leo Valdez

You sat on your bed, one thing in your mind; Percy Jackson. He was stunning, and gorgeous, he radiated confidence, and his aura had such a golden glow to it. You wanted him, but you knew he would never be yours.

Though you felt so intertwined with him, he'd never feel the same. You were only friends. He had no interest in you. You were one of his friends, that's all you were ever going to be to him. Being a child of the god of requited love didn't seem to be playing in your favor.

You'd think that Anteros being your father, would mean that the crushes you had on people would be returned, but no. That was not the case.

Percy was infatuated with his girlfriend Annabeth Chase. She was perfect. A daughter of Athena, long curly blonde hair, striking silver eyes, perfect complexion, she radiated a confidence you didn't have. And her energy just always seemed to bounce of his. You weren't bitter, you were just a little upset. You were happy for her, but you also wanted a love like that. But you couldn't have Percy, and you could respect that.

----

Leo worked silently in the bunker, the bow and arrows he had been crafting seemed to glow. It looked perfect, perfect for you. Leo had been trying to get your attention for weeks, but you had been in a slump. He wasn't sure why, but he knew it had something to do with Percy.

He was jealous of percy no he was worried about you, and he wanted you to feel better. He didn't have feelings for you, right? You were his best friend, he just wanted you to be okay.

He found himself thinking of you a lot, the look you had on your face when concentrating, the way your eyes gleamed when you were happy, the way he felt when you were around, all warm and fuzzy inside. The first time these feelings for you arose, his cheeks flamed. No, literally they flamed with fire.

He just shook his head, at the thought. He did like you, he couldn't keep denying that. But he didn't think you liked him. He knew you didn't like him. If you did you'd pay more attention to him, and not focus so much of your energy on Percy. His fingertips tingled at the thought, if he wasn't careful he was gonna, burn something with his jealousy. There he said it, he's jealous. And kind of heartbroken. The one he loves, loves another. Y/n's is infatuated with a guy who won't even look at him that way, he wouldn't take extra time out of his day to make sure he was okay, he wouldnt spend hours crafting something for him just to see a smile on his face.

He just wondered why you couldn't see that he liked you, why wouldnt you take your eyes off Percy for two seconds to see whats been here for you the whole time. The boy who so just wants to make you happy, the boy who gets life out of seeing you smile. He's been here all along.

Regardless of the pain he felt from trying he also wouldn't let you suffer. It hurt him to see you hurt. His heart broke the time he saw you crying over Percy, you didn't tell him why, but he knew. You didn't have to tell him, he knew you were coming to terms with the fact you had to get over him, but he also knew it wasn't easy.

----------

He found you helping the younger campers with archery the next day. You were standing off to the side as you gave instructions moving to help them with the hold and teaching them how to aim. He admired that about you, the way you were patient with the younger campers, and didn't tell them they sucked. You didn't get mad at them, you just kept helping them, explaining there mistakes and how to correct them. Gods you were perfect

He went up to you, tapping your shoulder when you finally had a moment. "I um made this for you, its customized exactly for you and will feel better than your last bow. Which in turn will help you in combat-" you smiled at him a blush rising to your cheeks. 'Oh gods was he always this kind' you thought to yourself. He handed the bow to you, your hands touching causing a rush of heat to dance along your skin. A blush covering you as butterflies danced in your stomach.

What did this mean, you hadn't felt that before. Sure you had a crush on Percy, but he didn't make you feel like that. You just got blushy and giggly around Percy. But with Leo, gods there was so much more to it. You suddenly couldn't remember what was so great about Percy, your eyes took in the boy before you. Everything about him seeming to make your mind go dumb.

You tried to mumble out a 'thank you', but it came out barely above a whisper. The words seeming to fall apart as they left your mouth. He seemed to know what you were saying though, and he nodded. You didn't understand why you felt like mush around him, you had never been like that around him, let alone like that in general. Like a spell had been put on you, or taken off of you. You couldn't tell whether this felt like you had a love spell put on you, or if it felt like you were finally seeing Leo clearly for the first time. All you knew is you felt safe, and happy. His presence was lighting you up in the best way.

"you gonna test out that bow now, or continue to stare at me?" You snapped out of your thoughts not even realizing you zoned out. "Yeah, I am" you grabbed his hand pulling him towards one of the targets that wasn't being used. He stood next to you, as you steadied yourself concentrating on the target. The bow felt better than what you usually used, even the arrows felt better everything was perfectly balanced. And when you took the shot it even worked more efficiently than your old one had.

"Thank you Leo! Genuinely I love it!" You turned towards him setting the bow down to wrap your arms around the boys waist. Leo immediately hugging you back, "you're welcome mi amore" your heart did flips at the nickname, your cheeks turning a deep hue of red. When you pulled away, you picked up the bow and arrows walking over to the target to take the other out of it. Then you made your way back to Leo, "OH! I haven't even shown you the best part!" He grabbed the bow from you, as he moved the arrows to one side of the bow he seemed to decompress the bow and arrows into what looked to be a pin. He passed it back to you, "to get into full bow form all you have to do is tap it three times! Now it won't magically return to you like riptide or Ivlivs, but I still think this is really cool." You smiled at the boy in front of you.

"it's awesome, and so much better than any magic weapon" you pulled the boy towards you in another hug. Catching him off guard and you both almost toppled over before stabilizing yourselves. "Sorry, I just got excited." Leo's cheeks flamed at this, "No, No! It's okay, I like when you hug me" you smiled at him, your heart doing flips. "How about we go get some lunch fire boy" he nodded while smiling at you.

Part of you wished you'd realized your feelings sooner, but it was alright that you hadn't. Sure emotions were tiring and this definitely exhausted you having to process it all, that just gave you an excuse to fall asleep on Leo. Just like you were right now, his back pressed up against a tree as your head rested on his lap. His fingers combing through your hair as he told you about his day. He hadn't noticed you fell asleep, until he asked you a question and was met by your snores.

He just smiled at you thanking the gods that you were here in his arms. And just as in love with him, as he was with you.

[b00tyliciousbabe]

feral.

[coffeewithcocoa]

Drunk Confessions

Prologue

Human Alastor x Male Reader

I’m spitting random shit outta my ass and this is one of them.

(LOOK AT THIS MAN! MY EYES ARE BEING BLESSED!)

———————————————————————

You and Alastor were good friends. The best even! You too have been growing up together and both your parents have loved seeing you both do everything together. Whenever someone would push him down you would be at his side helping him, same went for you. He chose to be more violent though.

Even when you both were teens that didn’t plan on splitting you up. Though when you did have to move back to Europe, you and him realized that you wouldn’t be able to talk.

So you just declined moving back there all together. Your parents kept trying to say that it was for the better and you’ll visit soon but that didn’t convince you. It took 18 hours, with the help of Alastor’s mom, to get you to leave.

Tears ran down your face as you remembered all the good times with him.

-

“AHEM-!” Someone snapped you out of your thoughts. “HM- Yes Mimzi?” You chuckled at the embarrassment, that was probably like the fifth time today. “How about you go talk to him. You’ve been gawkin’ at him ever since he walked in!”

She did have a point. “No thank you, Mimzi.” You turned your attention back over to the bartender. “Another drink please Husker?” He rolled his eyes and fetched you another drink. “Thank you~!” You sang out to him.

“Look..you high haven’t talked ever since you moved.” Mimzi said to get your attention turned back towards her. “Just try and talk to him again?” She spoke again, rising an eyebrow at you

“I would love to..I truly would, but it’s been so long and..WHERE are you going?!” She chuckled as she got up from her chair. Her height being very noticeable as her flapper dress straightened out from being seated.

“If you’re not gonna do it, then I am sweetheart.” She waved her hand at you as she moved closer to your old friend. “Here’s your drink..” You quickly got up from your chair, ‘shit!’ But when you got there it was too late. You quickly turned your heals and walked back to your spot.

“Thank you again for the drink Husk.” You snatched the drink that he healed and left to the back room of the speakeasy. God, you hated when people fought your own battles for you. You get that they’re trying to help but damn.

You closed the door with a nice click noise. A soft sigh slipped past you, taking a nice sip from the whiskey that you so desired. The room that you were in held all kinds of liquor. Starting from whiskey and ending at wine.

‘Looks like I can drink myself to death over here.’ You quickly downed the rest of your drink like it was a shot and grabbed a similar bottle to the Whiskey you liked. Opening it with a nice pop sound, you started refilling your glass with it.

The smell of liquor quickly filled the room. A satisfied hum came out from you as you decided to drink your way till you were drunk. Even though that was pretty risky but you didn’t care.

“Anyways Alastor, sweetheart, how have you been doing?” Mimzi smiled at Alastor as her and him were walking back got the area that she was last seen with you. “Oh I’ve been doing quite alright! The radio broadcasts have been just swell!” He chuckled out in his normal happy self.

Mimzi made a lip smack sound, “Well isn’t that just nice. I’ll be happy to let you know that..where the fuck did he go.” She blinked at your seat a couple of times before turning around to face the taller person.

She chuckled out loud while tinkering with her gloves. “Okay look. I didn’t lie to you but he did disappear.” Her voice wasn’t that confident. Since Husk was right there he scoffed, calling her out on her fake bullshit. “You were the one who fucking scared him off, son of a bitch.” He mumbled the last part so the both of them wouldn’t hear.

“What did I do to scare him off?!” Mimzi started getting defensive. “You called over the very fuckin’ person that he didn’t want to talk to.” Husk blinked at Mimzi before heading away. Alastor just stood there smiling before moving towards Husk.

“Hello old pal.” Alastor gave Husk one of the fakest smiles know to him. “The fuck you want.” Husk turned around so he could clean some bottles. “I just have a favor.” Alastor chuckled. “No need to get all pissy now. I just want you to know where you saw him go!” Alastor said taking a glass of Whiskey.

———————————————————————

I’m going to write a part 1. For right now I guess this is a prologue! FEAST MY LOVELY CHILDREN>:)

Part 1

[dreamxthetic]

Louis de Pointe du Lac | Jacob Anderson | Interview with a vampire | Bygones

Two hundred years and counting. That is how long Louis has been on this earth—decades upon decades of ill misfortunes and fleeting 15-minute episodes of contentment and peace. More than two hundred years on this god-forsaken planet, yet your face continues to stalk his thoughts like a drug.

He remembered evidently the way you smiled—how your dimples would quirk as your eyes sheepishly fluttered when he showered you in the dearest of compliments. They were the highlight of his days, and Louis remembered all of it, especially the first date.

It was night out, beyond dark, so much so that the two of you would frequently stumble while trekking to your hidden location beneath the glistening stars. He isn't proud of it now, but looking closer at things, he could have been less ashamed of you and met more frequently within the daytime, but the times were sacred back then, and he was young and cautious. He had to catch you four times that night before insisting on leading the way, and when you reached your goal destination, he covered your eyes.

You had asked him, "What," in return, but he merely chuckled hoarsely and gave you a kiss on your cheek.

Louis smiles…oh how soft your skin was…

It was the night of a many first of the two of you, but nothing could upstage it being the night he confessed to you. A mere six words, double that of the usual endearing three, and yet they changed your lives forever…especially yours. He still recalls how your voice cracked with disbelief and joy when he uttered them to you—how the crickets chirped with applause around you while the moon beamed a light of approval onto you…His most cherished memory. And of course, he could never forget the kiss you be-granted his lips after that, would never forget. It was slow and endearing, the most passionate he had ever been with anyone—most vulnerable: more than with Lestat. You're bodies had intermingled beyond that of just flesh. You had claimed his soul, his destiny, something Lestat only had the pleasure of holding onto temporarily.

He regretted deeply not holding onto you more dearly. He could have fought harder, should have! Sure, the times were cruel to people his kind, and it didn't make it any better that he never held the courage to visit you out of the ours of the damned, but still! You were more than just the love of his life; his actions should have replicated and been in tune with his words—his promises. Louis was young and dumb—but in love, and because of that, your veiled relationship only lasted 3 years. An ironic outcome for how high of a standard he held you.

If only he had gotten you out when he promised…had given you that happily ever after in that cottage. Maybe then…only then would Lestat not have gotten to you—would the world not have gotten the chance to degrade you: your very own family…

But he didn't. He didn't, and that was his greatest regret. Louis was 25 when it happened, cursed that way after that enchanting night with Lestat. You were pushing 30, and it was 6 years after the breakup. He knew that because he never did stop loving you. He stalked you like a personal guardian angel. Though it appears he was an ass at the job because despite seeing you once every week, he still had no clue about the internal war you were waging within yourself. If anything, it only gave his infatuation with you over to Lestat. That is what set things truly ablaze.

To this day, Louis doesn't know what Lestat did to you, nor did anyone he asks, but the morning after, he was there, just standing in front of him with the most brim smile in town, eerie in all its glory. He should have instantly known then that something was wrong, but having been with the unpredictable Lestat de Lioncourt for so long, he merely grew docile to the older's eccentric behavior, something he repented for the next day. It was 2:00AM on 8/5/179 when they discovered the body, a mere year from the new century. Of course, to Louis, this was no big deal, having already deducted that it was one of Lestat's many feeding victims, but when he heard of where the body was located and how they had passed, everything changed. There were only 2 people aside from him that he firmly believed to know that place: You and Lestat. And if Lestat was okay…then…

He had to see for himself. I mean, it could have been literally anybody. But fate wasn't so kind for him to be mistaken this time. It was you.

Your body looked bruised and drained, and at first sight, he instantly thought of Lestat, but your body showed no signs of struggle, and that was a big deal, considering it was hanging from a thin rope. It was damaging to swallow, but you had killed yourself, hanged from the tree you and him had carved your initials into, a wretched sight.

He would never forgive himself for that, even up to this day. You haunted his dreams, both the good and bad. That gleaming smile of yours…It brightened his day and made him mourn for the loss of what could have been if only he was brave enough…

Lestat had once again taken something precious from him, and like the lonely fool he was—is—he continued to remain by him…