#now he will know what people taking your clothes feels like

[gyubakeries]

𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 | c.sc (f)

a/n: for some reason the ask got deleted 😭 but an anon asked for something scoups related, so, anon, if you're seeing this, hi! thanks for requesting! i kept brainstorming, and finally came up with this, so i hope you like it! (sorry the ask got deleted im hopeless w technology 😭)

word count: 2.1k contents: seungcheol x afab!reader , gymbro!cheol , i have 0 gym knowledge forgive me , seungcheol and reader are dating , bullying mingyu is a canon event , lots of fluff , cheol being a green flag as always , slight angst , mentions of insecurities (but they have healthy communication about it!) , just overall cute vibes !

"i wanna go to the gym with you."

seungcheol looks up from his phone to direct his gaze at you. it's a thursday night, a rare day off for the both of you, and you had been in the process of selecting a movie for the night when you suddenly spoke.

"what?" seungcheol asks again, not sure if he heard you right the first time.

"i want to go to the gym with you," you repeat, meeting seungcheol's eyes reluctantly, trying to mask your ulterior motive with a smile.

seungcheol was taken aback, but don't get him wrong. he was a regular at the gym, but in your last three years of dating, he had never heard you wanting to accompany him to the gym. instead, you'd always said that you'd rather be at home than be surrounded by sweaty people, including seungcheol himself.

so why the sudden interest?

"babe, everything okay?" seungcheol asks. he knows asking questions may seem rude, but he notices the way the smile you're shooting at him doesn't feel genuine at all.

"yeah! i just wanted to see what was so great about the gym for you to spend hours there," you say, making up an excuse on the fly, hoping you sounded convincing enough.

seungcheol knew you through and through, and he also knew that you weren't telling him the entire truth. but instead of prying, he decides to agree to your request.

"alright,come with me tomorrow," he nods. "it's gonna be pretty intense though. mingyu tells me i'm a really strict gym trainer." he jokes.

"it's okay," you laugh, finally cracking a real smile. "i have a feeling i'll become your favorite student in no time."

"we'll see about that," seungcheol teases, and you drop the topic, shifting your attention back to choosing a movie.

seungcheol needs to get to the bottom of this.

-

the next day, seungcheol comes home from work, and like clockwork, he changes into his workout clothes and grabs his gym bag, ready to head out, but-

something feels different about today though....

"excuse me? were you forgetting your star student at home?" comes your voice, and he finally remembers. he turns to see you waiting in the kitchen, and any suspicions he had about your strange request melt away at the sight of you dolled up in the cutest workout fit. your hair was up in a ponytail, and you were wearing a baby pink sports bra with a matching pair of leggings. you even had a cute duffel bag packed with you.

"aw, baby, you look adorable," he coos. he walks towards the kitchen and stops in front of you to place a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into a hug. "also, i'd never forget my favorite student." he says defensively, and you laugh at his cuteness.

"sure, big guy," you chuckle. "let's get going, shall we?"

-

whatever worries had left his brain when he saw you at home had come back to him ten-fold at the gym. he started you off with some basic warm-up exercises and then the treadmill. the both of you jogged next to each other for a while. you had found all of this manageable until now, even though all the physical exertion had made you all sweaty, which in turn made you uncomfortable. you mask your uneasiness though, not wanting to alert seungcheol.

but he had already seen the signs of discomfort on your face. after the treadmill, he decided that he needs to take you home.

"i'm actually feeling really tired today, babe," he fake-yawns while you're sipping on some water. "how about we go home now and come back another day?"

"woah, you're tired just from some cardio?" someone speaks up from behind him, and it's mingyu.

how is he always at the gym?? seungcheol wonders, cursing mingyu's timing.

"i just had a long day at work. what are you doing here?" seungcheol rolls his eyes.

"working out, duh," mingyu retorts. "didn't you clock in late to work today, though? i've seen you less tired while you were working on three days of no sleep."

seungcheol really wants to punch mingyu in the face right now.

"if you're really feeling tired, we can head home," you butt in before seungcheol throws a dumbell at mingyu.

seungcheol would be relieved, if not for the way you look dejected and upset, and seungcheol would rather walk through fire than be the reason for that frown on your face, so he relents.

"it's okay, i'm feeling fine," he smiles. "we can continue, baby."

"just don't be all gross and couple-y," mingyu adds, and quickly scurries away before seungcheol can elbow him in the stomach.

after mingyu leaves, seungcheol gets you started on some basic squats. he shows you the correct posture, even helps you for the first few times till you get the hang of it.

finally, you gain the confidence to do the squats on your own, so you start off with a goal of completing 10. by the time you're on squat number 4, there's a burn in your thighs. you've heard people saying that it's supposedly a good burn, but right now, it's making you feel like your legs are going to snap into two, like twigs.

not wanting to embarrass yourself, you push through the remaining squats, collapsing to the floor after you finish them.

"hey! that was great!" seungcheol smiles cheerily. "i'm so proud of you. let's take a break and then we can move onto something else."

the next challenge: push-ups.

while you weren't a frequent gym-goer, you had an idea of how a push-up should be done. guided by seungcheol's instructions, you find yourself in the position to carry out some push-ups. once again, you set a goal of 10 and you start.

at push-up number 7, your arms give out and you lose your balance, your forehead bumping with the ground.

"shit. y/n, are you okay?" seungcheol is by your side in a blink, helping you up into a sitting posture. you look around the gym, and thankfully there weren't a lot of people around to see your disastrous attempt at push-ups, but you still felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"i'm sorry," you sniffle, tears welling up in your eyes as seungcheol gently rubs your forehead. "i'm sorry for being bad at this."

seungcheol freezes when he sees you cry. he knows you, and you weren't the type to cry from such a small failure. the uneasiness twists his gut; something is really wrong.

"baby, you have nothing to be sorry for," he says, tone firm yet gentle. "let's go home and talk about this, okay? you did a good job today, and you should rest."

leaving no room for negotiation, you let seungcheol gather both your belongings and walk you back home.

once you reach your shared apartment, you're aware of how sweaty and gross you are, your nose crinkling with disgust.

"i need to shower..." you mumble.

"you can head in first. call me if you need anything, okay?" seungcheol suggests. "i'll start on dinner."

you nod timidly and head towards the shower. a long and relaxing shower later, you're emerging from the bedroom in your comfiest pajamas, and a red spot on your forehead from the incident at the gym. you walk into the kitchen to see seungcheol putting down dinner on the table, freshly showered.

"you used the guest bathroom?" you ask, and he nods. you can tell that there's something on his mind, and you know its related to what happened today. knowing seungcheol, he likes to communicate whatever he has on his mind to maintain trust between you, so you eat dinner in silence, anticipating the conversation after.

once the dishes are washed and put away, you quickly go to bed, hoping to avoid any tough conversations by falling asleep early. but seungcheol is too aware of your tendencies, so he follows you to the bedroom, sitting next to you on the bed as you lay down.

"does it hurt a lot?" he asks, breaking the silence.

"my forehead? not that much. but the rest of my body is really sore," you admit truthfully.

"should i get you a painkiller for it?" seungcheol offers, and you shake your head. you've seen him come home from the gym complaining of sore muscles, but he never takes any medication for it, and you don't want to seem weak for doing so.

"you can take one, it won't make you weak," seungcheol says, as if he's read your thoughts. "what's going on, baby? i know something is bothering you, tell me what it is. let me help you."

the gentle tone to his voice makes you tear up immediately. you bring your hands up to your face as you cry. an alarmed seungcheol is quick to hug you, whispering comforting words into your ear.

once you've calmed down, you realize it's time to tell him the truth.

"i wanted to have something in common with you. all our friends and their partners have a shared interest. mingyu and his girlfriend love cooking, wonwoo and his girlfriend like photography; even minghao managed to end up with someone who loves tea as much as him. i just wanted to share something with you. i realized that you and i don't have a lot in common. everyone says 'opposites attract' but to what extent? that's why i thought of going to the gym, so that we could have something to share."

seungcheol is silent for a few moments, and you bite the inside of your cheek nervously while you wait for his response.

"y/n, you're the one person on this earth i have found a perfect match in. you and i have a lot more in common than you think. like the fact that you're the only person who supports my 'dipping french fries in milkshake' agenda," seungcheol cracks a soft smile, holding your hands in his.

"you don't have to force yourself to do things just to share an interest with me, baby. i love you for who you are. you're a wonderful artist, and i'm absolutely pathetic at drawing basic human figures. that doesn't mean we don't work together," seungcheol explains, hoping that his words make sense to you.

"i know, but i just- i just got worried that one day you'd be tired of having to deal with someone so different from you," you sigh, confessing the thought that had been plaguing your mind for a few weeks. "i don't want to lose you, cheol. that's why i did all this. but all i've really done is embarrass myself..."

seungcheol's lips draw into a pout as he crawls onto the bed, laying down next to you. he covers both of you under the blanket and pulls your body closer to him, your head cradled against his chest, and his arm wrapped around your waist.

"i'll never get tired of you. you're the love of my life, and i like the fact that every day we spend together, i get to learn something new about you. there's a familiarity in that too, you know?" he says, and the warmth in his voice makes your heart melt.

"ever since the day i met you, i've wanted to know who you are. i've wanted to know what makes you smile and cry, what food you don't like so i'll never bring it up, what your favorite disney princess is, even how much sugar you like in your coffee. and i'm so grateful to be able to learn every small thing about you, because that's how i show my love for you."

you pull away slightly from his embrace, meeting seungcheol's soft gaze.

"i love you the way you are, and no amount of differences could ever stop me from loving you. even if you were the north pole and i was the south, i'd do everything in my power to be with you, you get that?"

"how'd i get so lucky?" you whisper, eyes welling up again. "i love you too, so much. you- you made me cry, you idiot." you chuckle wetly, slapping his chest playfully.

"you're just a sap," seungcheol teases, but he rubs your back comfortingly nonetheless. "anyways, you're not going to be following me to the gym just for the sake of it anymore. i already think you're perfect the way you are, but if you ever do want to go, you should do it only because you want to, okay?"

"you don't have to worry about it," you dismiss his concerns. "from the second i step foot into the gym and got attacked by the stench of sweat, i promised to never come back."

"hey! that's rude!" seungcheol gasps dramatically. you can only laugh at the way a grown, 29 year-old man pouts like a toddler.

yeah, you really were lucky to have him.

-fin.

[strawberryblue-blog]

New outfit

—FC BARCELONA.

summary: How would they react to seeing you wearing sexy/revealing clothes/outfits?

warnings: none. cute, soft, jeaulosy, etc.

—Pedri González.

Pedri would say that it doesn't affect him at all and he would never question you about what you wear, because it's your decision what to wear. But inside, he'd be pretty frustrated, a little jealous that other people see you like this but nothing he can't hide. Although honestly he just wants to take you and lock you in the room to do everything with you but decent things.

He would know that if you go out like that, guys might tease him with their jokes (always in a good way) and then say comments with you about it. That would piss him off and he would lecture them about what a respectful and kind man he is.

Still, Pedri would never ask you to change or make an exaggerated scene. You are precious to him, that you feel confident and comfortable in any clothes makes him proud, even if he dies inside. And if any man overdoes it with you or tries to get smart with you, he'll deal with him.

—Pablo Gavi.

No. You're definitely not going out with that tonight. Gavi would make a jealous scene and won't let you leave the house. He can't let others see you like that, you almost come out naked and Gavi will burn with jealousy.

Although you look gorgeous to him and he would rip your clothes off to have you, he is not happy that you want to look like that to go out with his friends. Although after a little argument, he'll have to give in and he'll be angry and throwing tantrums all night.

And even if he is very horny jealousy will win him over and he will try to cover you with his body when others look at you, or he will press your waist bringing you closer to him, he will stand behind you covering you or he will try to give you his jacket, you are his princess and he is going to protect you.

—Ferran Torres.

You didn't even get out of the room before Ferran noticed your outfit. He was surprised at first that you had never worn anything like that and he is a little proud to have you for himself, to have you as his own.

But he must admit that he was happy to see you like this, he liked this new you, willing to try new things and feel confident with herself. He will definitely show you tonight, picking you out at every turn, whispering to you how sensual you look and he can't wait to show you tonight when he gets home.

He wouldn't be jealous of others watching, in fact, he'd be proud. He can't stop smiling at how others drool at the sight of you and he's the lucky one.

—Fermín López.

Fermin would not even notice it. But not because he is not interested but because for him you can wear any of the clothes he would trust you to wear. As long as you feel comfortable and like it, Fermín would never have an opinion about your outfit.

He is a gentleman and doesn't care that everyone can see you. But after a comment from one of his friends, he would start trying to cover you up a bit. He might feel a little nervous now, but it's no big deal.

He would be more nervous about you being uncomfortable than jealous. Maybe he'll hug you around the waist while whispering how pretty you look or help you take pictures so you can upload them to your networks. He's a 100% supportive boyfriend.

—Alejandro Balde.

At first, he will pretend not to care. He wants to be a supportive boyfriend but will start to feel more jealous as men look at you and sigh the way he does. You are his princess and he doesn't want anyone to see you like that.

He would try any kind of ploy to come home early, that his food was bad or that he's tired but really he just wants to take your clothes off and make you feel good.

He would really go into overprotective mode, covering your butt, resting his hand on your waist or thighs. He doesn't have time to think about anything else, except looking really ugly at whoever is looking at you. And try to use seduction to convince you to come home.

—Héctor Fort.

Like Gavi, Hector would start acting jealous seeing you like this. More like a mixture of jealousy and excitement. He wouldn't know what to do. Now he doesn't want to go out and would rather you stay at home so no one sees you the way he sees you.

Even if you try to convince him, Hector will make a whim and you will have to cover yourself at least with a jacket or something else. When other men start looking at you, he will ask you if you want to go home, even if you deny, he will keep trying.

He wants to cover you from the others but you won't let him and there is nothing else left to do. He will snort giving up but will keep his eyes on you. Then you will have a long conversation and he will tell you how he feels seeing you like this and he will enjoy you too.

—Lamine Yamal.

He'd be a little jealous when he saw you out in a revealing, you show more skin than he'd like and that has an effect on him, young crush that he is.

He thinks it looks fucking hot on you though. He'll be jealous but then he'll remember that you're completely his and he'll get over it. It's more of a worry thing because he's afraid that others will look at your body and it will make you uncomfortable.

He would always hold your hands, lean his body against yours, letting others know that you are his and that he supports you. He would definitely take pictures with you to upload on his instagram and show who he owns you and how beautiful you are in any kind of clothes.

—Pau Cubarsi.

When he sees you wearing a sensual outfit he will be touched in a good way. He thinks what you are wearing is so beautiful, it looks great on your body and he knows you feel confident about yourself, which makes him fall in love more. He doesn't feel attacked or jealous.

He respects you a lot and respects your relationship, he trusts you and even if he doesn't trust other men, he would never stop you from not wearing what you want.

He really liked it, for him. you should always dress like that. So beautiful, so free. He loves that about you, that you would never let anyone tell you what to wear or what to do. He is proud of you, in every possible way, he will take thousands of pictures with your outfit for you to upload to your networks and show off your perfection. But just in case, he will prepare his protective side.

[ladykailitha]

Hellfire Exotic Club Part 4

Yay! This story is really moving along and were getting to all sorts of plots coming up for you.

With any luck I'll finish Secret Tunnel (aka the Game Show AU) and then just so it goes up and you can read it before the end of the time, I'll be doing a one time posting on Tuesdays.

"A Love Connection" coming to your screens this Tuesday!

It looks like it will be about 7 chapters and lot of fun. So stay tuned for that.

In this we Steve making waves and Jeff having a heart to heart with his best friend.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

~

It was Saturday night and Chrissy and Steve were debuting their fallen angels. Eventually they were going to get color change outfits made up so that they were white when dry and red when wet. So that by the end of their dance, they’ll be devils.

Eddie was so thrilled by the idea that he ordered a couple of different outfits for them so they didn’t always have to wear the same outfit every week.

What they wore as Samael and Eve weren’t anything like their Sins, Satan and Lilith. Steve was having his own outfit made, so for now he was merely wearing the very held on together with too many pins outfit of the former Envy. Bill was much broader than Steve and his out was meant to be tight.

When he first tied them on he looked ridiculous. Steve refused to wear the cowboy hat that went with it because one, it was hideous; two, he had no way of knowing anything about Billy’s hair care or lack thereof to be considered safe; and three, because Steve was a vain ass bitch and refused to cover his hair for anyone.

So until their costumes came, Steve and Chrissy were just wearing skimpy white outfits that they removed during their dance.

It featured Samael and Eve being tempted by Lucifer into falling. It was sexy as hell and Eddie didn’t mind getting to dance with them both.

After all, Eddie was bisexual and both Chrissy and Steve were amazing dancers. Steve wore wings that by the end of their dance, Eddie had ripped off. Eve and her apple. Turning into the gluttonous Lilith, having tasted temptation and wanting to devour it all.

Then it was Eddie’s turn with the hour in the spotlight and he began with his guitar. He played like a rockstar and as he played and screamed his heart out, the clothes came off until there was nothing between him and his sweetheart.

Then he would set the guitar aside dance in just his boots, bumping and grinding for the crowd and all their hard earned money, now his.

Everyone was thrilled with how well the angels dance went down. Well, almost.

Eddie was putting the club’s take of the money into the strong box that would then be locked in his safe in the floor when he got a knock on his office door.

He looked up from his count. “Stella! Come on in. Have a seat. What can I do you for?”

She moved with all the deadly grace of cobra.

“That was a pretty impressive dance tonight,” she hummed non-committedly. “You and Chrissy and the new guy.”

Eddie was a smart man. He gotten to where he was based on that and his good instincts. And both were screaming Stella was in fact not impressed.

“It feels good to shake things up a bit,” he hedged. He wasn’t sure what her complaint was. That Steve and Chrissy got ‘extra time’? That Eddie was playing favorites? That they were a trio instead of duo or single like they usually were?

“We aren’t called Heaven and Hellfire Club, Eddie,” Stella huffed. “There’s shaking things up and then there’s throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”

Ah. The Heaven theme. “A lot of the demons in hell were fallen angels. Lucifer, Samael, Abbadon, Rosier and several others. We’re just tapping into the more Judaic and Islamic mythos instead of relying on the Christian one.”

She pursed her lips and Eddie could feel a storm brewing.

“We’ll see how it goes,” Eddie continued, cutting her off before she could build up steam. “If people don’t like it, we’ll stop. But at least for tonight, we pulled in good money for that dance.”

Stella nodded primly. “You’re right, Eddie. We’ll see.”

Like that wasn’t ominous as fuck.

~

Steve didn’t feel as nervous tonight as he had last week. He had had more time with the dance and he felt more confident in his skin. He knew by now that not everyone stripped, but he wanted to try a little tease tonight to see how that went over.

He leaned over the stool in the middle of the stage and waited for the lights to come on. This was his favorite moment even when he was back doing ballet. He loved the beat between the spotlight being off and then on.

That moment of hushed silence as the crowd takes in a collective breath in anticipation. Waiting.

Waiting.

Bam!

The lights came on and Steve snapped up his head. He pulled his body over the stool and straddled it. He ran his fingers over his body and looked back into the crowd with a pout.

Half way through his hour of dancing, he looked over his shoulder at the crowd and slowly unzipped his corset and then pushed it down his body, as money flew through the air.

Yep. That would certainly do the trick. He turned around and dipped down low, spreading his legs. He bounced right back up. He spun and then did the splits, slowly sinking to the floor. He brought his legs back together and arched his back, leaning on his hands. He laid completely flat and undulated his body. He sat back up and tucked his legs under him.

He crawled toward the front of the stage where there were men and women alike waving fists of cash at him. He let them tuck the bills wherever it would fit and then stood back up.

He finished his dance back on the stool and turned away from the audience. He looked over his shoulder again and winked.

~

Eddie was going to go feral. This was it, the end of his sanity. It had slowly been ebbing away for years but this?

This destroyed the last tether he had to reason. He didn’t drink on the clock. Because he knew the second he got drunk some catastrophe would happen that he would need to be sober for and he’d fuck the whole thing up.

But god, did Steve’s little wink at the end make him want to start with one end of the bar and go all the way down, drinking everything he could get his hands on.

How his hands managed not to shake when he handed Steve his cut of the night’s earnings, he’ll never know. But he even got in a sincere smile while he was at it.

He quietly put the money in the lockbox to be combined with Saturday’s take and taken to the bank first thing in the morning. He locked up his office and went out front to wait for the cleaners. When he got out to the bar, he saw Jeff waiting for him.

That brought him up short. If he was expecting anyone to stay for a chat it would have been Chrissy or Gareth. Jeff pulled out a bottle whiskey and poured them each a glass before sitting down. He patted the stool next to him.

“Come on,” he murmured gently. “I’m not gonna bite you.”

Eddie scoffed and did as he was told. This was bound to be a better conversation then the ones he had with Stella and Steve. At least this time there was booze involved. He picked up the glass and swirled the liquid around before taking a long drink.

“You did good bringing him in,” Jeff started. “More people are coming in then they were before and tips for everyone have gone up.”

Eddie looked over at his best friend and then cocked his head to the side with a half shrug. “I was about ready to go drown my sorrows and give up finding anyone who could replace Billy. Because, yeah for all we brandy about him being stereotypical, he got warm bodies into the club every Sunday night.”

“He certainly could out Magic Mike even the best of strippers,” Jeff agreed. “Too bad his personality was shit and he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants off the stage.”

Eddie drained the rest of his glass and poured himself another. He turned in the stool to face Jeff. “See that’s the part I don’t understand. Why would he sleep around with married women? Especially high profile married women? Because that was just asking for trouble.”

“Because it’s not about sex,” Jeff said with a shrug. “It’s about power. He could have sex with any woman he wanted so he went for the ones in power so that he could control them. Dude was a class A asshole.”

“That’s true,” Eddie scoffed. “But no, I’m glad Steve is settling in. Since Scott’s been helping him learn the moves, he’s been picking them up faster and even adding his own moves.”

“When you got him in to see Ellie?” he asked downing his drink. “Because if he was in a costume that actually fucking fit, he’d be bringing in even bigger numbers.”

Eddie winced. He loved Ellie. She did all the costumes for the club and was always happy to make him new ones. Hell, she was super excited to do the costumes for the fairy tale night. But he was having a hard time getting Steve and her together in the same room because of how wildly different their schedules were. He really wasn’t thinking about that when he gave Steve his schedule.

“I’m working on it,” he muttered darkly. “She’s already slammed with some of the extra work we sent her. I don’t know what Steve does on his days off, but he’s been super busy so it’s hard to get the two of them in the same room.”

“Just have her show up to one of the shows,” Jeff said, “and have her take the measurements between him shaking his assets.”

Eddie snorted. “She likes making our costumes but she passes on the actual show.”

“She’d be in the back in the dressing rooms,” Jeff huffed. “Because he needs to get costumes that fit his style. Hell, he needs to dance his style. The envy dance was great for pole, but Steve barely touches the damn thing. Which considering his past experience is a little weird, but that’s not here or there. He needs to be able to branch out.”

“Would you tell that to Stella, please?” Eddie growled. “She’s already been on my ass about the angel thing. She’s trying to clip his wings before he even gets them.”

Jeff poured them both another glass. Eddie raised an eyebrow. He didn’t usually have more than two. “Don’t worry, I’ve got Uber on standby, but I think we both need this right now. But to answer your question, some people just don’t like change. Especially since she is one of the last vestiges of the KitCat Kitty Club. Her and a couple of the backup dancers. When they saw Billy get fired, suddenly they got very afraid for their jobs.”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, playing with his glass and really not drinking it. Around them the cleaners were getting to work. They were used to Eddie having a drink with one of his friends and just did that section last.

“You just have show them you understand where they’re coming from,” Jeff said, “without letting them push you over. You’re boss after all.”

Eddie glared at him. “And how do you suppose I do that, pray tell?”

“I don’t know,” Jeff said waving his hand. “Fly casually.” He snorted when Eddie hit his arm. “Look, man I don’t know. I’m just a dancer. I shake my ass and I get paid for it. You’re the real brains of this place. You took it to new heights when it should have failed. You brought in some of the best dancers this town has ever seen by the sheer grace of just being friends with them. I don’t know why you’re asking me for advice.”

Eddie buried his head in hands. He sat like that for a moment and then drank all the whiskey in his glass in one gulp. He put his head on the bar and thunked it a couple of times. He was good at this. He could do this.

“I can handle this,” he said waving his hands at the bar. “What I can’t handle is how hot Steve is. Like what the hell?”

Jeff threw his head back and laughed. “Can’t help you with that one, man. I’m straight.”

“God, I wish I was straight or gay instead of the bisexual disaster that I am.”

Jeff put his arm around his shoulders. “People still think you and Chrissy are still an item?”

He nodded morosely and then laid his head on his arms on the bar. He turned his head to look at Jeff. “I can’t beat the allegations even with my personal no dating staff rule.”

“Maybe they just want you to be happy,” he said, finishing his drink and setting the glass behind the bar for the crew to clean up.

“It’s just she’s not out as a lesbian,” Eddie whispered, “and I worry she’s going to be pushed into revealing something she’s not ready to yet.”

“So take a night off once and awhile and date, man,” Jeff huffed. “You give everyone at least one night off, two if you can swing it. But when was the last time you stepped into a club that you didn’t own?”

Eddie scoffed. “Probably never.”

“You have me and Chrissy to help you run this place,” Jeff reminded him. “Take a day off, rest. Hell, go visit your uncle. I bet that bastard misses your scaly ass.”

Eddie shook his head and finished his third glass. “I should. I call him all the time, but it would be good to see him too.”

“I think you’ve had your head so wrapped around this club,” Jeff said, “that you forgot to be someone other than ‘boss’.”

Eddie let out a slow shuddering breath as he pushed away from the bar. “Thanks, Jeffy. I owe you.”

Jeff laughed. “You don’t owe me shit. I love my job and I know there would be no other place in or out of this fucking state that would take a black man as a headlining stripper, let alone one looking like me.”

“Which is a damn shame,” Eddie replied. “Let’s find that Uber of yours and go home.”

Jeff laughed. “You’ve become such a fucking lightweight.”

Eddie pushed him and then wrestled and tussled as they exited the bar.

In the back of the bar one of the cleaners watched them go with a furrowed brow.

~

And don't worry, I haven't forgotten our little cleaner, they'll make an appearance later. ;)

Tag List: ONE SLOT REMAINING

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975

[petew21-blog]

Great Shift stories, Henry and Joey

Paparazzi:"Gentlemen, smile. Look to the right. Yeah. Good"

Henry and Joey were at the front of the hall, where the press conference was about to be held, before the release of the new Witcher season. They were all instructed to suit up and arrive. Henry felt like he was betraying Joey. They were about to announce soon, that he was leaving the Witcher TV series and passing the role to Liam Hemsworth. Henry didn't want to continue playing Geralt if the story wouldn't be more faithful to the books. Unfortunately, Joey already signed his contract and therefore had to play Jaskier for another year without Henry.

They stood next to each other. Joey couldn't pretend that he was happy. He was angry, because Henry didn't tell him soon enough how he felt and that he was leaving, trapping Joey in a job he started to hate. He felt betrayed

Back then nobody knew what happened in the following moments. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was intentional. But all they knew was that suddenly all around them was pure chaos. The whole city confused and screaming. Most of the planet swapped bodies with someone standing close to them. Some were very unlucky, in some cases the swap was lethal or caused many people to die. But some people got really lucky. Just like Joey and Henry here

They were obviously both shocked when they found themselves in each other's bodies. But they were interrupted by the people around them screaming and shouting at each other.

Joey in Henry's body:"Henry? Is that you? I'm you!"

Henry in Joey's body:"Is this real? Is it really happening?"

Joey:"I think it is. And I don't think we're the only ones. Maybe we should go somewhere more quiet."

Joey starts walking away, but as soon as Henry moves his body a sharp pain shoots from the back of his body.

Henry:"Ah fuck. Wait. There's something wrong. It feels like..."

Joey started smiling, realising.

Henry didn't find the pain that bad anymore and was slowly figuring out, what it was.

Henry:"Joey? Is that what I think it is?"

Joey:"I don't know what you're talking about"

Henry started laughing at his old face

Henry:"Hahahaha. No you didn't. Holy shit you're naughty, Joey. You really went to a press con with a dildo up your ass? Wow. I never thought that you'd be able to do this."

Joey:"Maybe we should go?"

Henry:"Oh fuck, we are. I really need to take a proper look at that thing stuck inside of me now "

Joey went first and couldn't stop smiling, as he heard Henry struggling to walk properly

But Henry was getting more and more into it. He never had a dildo up his ass. And this one was BIG.

They got into an empty hotel room nearby.

Joey went to the bathroom first to piss and left Henry outside. Henry started throwing his clothes off to the ground. But stopped, once he felt the thing in him move. He got on his knees and felt his own ass trying to push it in and out. An overwhelming feeling caused him to moan out loud and hold ok tightly to the bed sheets.

He heard the bathroom door open

Joey:"You wanna use the bathroom?"

Henry got up and without saying a word went to the bathroom while grabbing his old body's cheeks playfully on the way.

He wanted to look at himself in the mirror, but he needed the dildo to move. He needed to find a better position. But another unwanted movement caused him to collapse into the bath still in his clothes.

He just sat there leaning on the edges of the bath, moving his ass up and down in the air. Causing the dildo to move up and down. He was now covered in sweat. His body was begging to be fucked

Joey:"You need some help with that?" He pointed at his ass

Henry needed to be fucked. And there was a thing much better than the dildo in his ass

He leaned to the front and grabbed his old semi-hard bulge looking seductively into his old eyes

Henry:"Whip it out big boy. You got a hole to patch. And I need it"

Joey:"Are you sure you..."

Henry:"Fuck me right now!!!"

Joey threw off his pants and boxers. Leaving himself in Henry's Grey shirt only

Henry:"I want you to show me how you can be better than that dildo"

Joey:"I'm not really sure about this"

Henry:"Please just fuck me already. I can't take this anymore"

Joey helped Henry to take off his clothes. He turned him around to let him hold the edge of the bath. He then grabbed the base off the dildo and started moving it up and down rythmically. Henry was moaning in pleasure. No, he was screaming

As soon as Joey got hard, he pulled out the dildo and showed his new huge dick into his old ass. Henry couldn't even tell the difference. But now it was warmer, pulsating. And Joey was pounding him.

They were now one. Combined. Sweaty. Joey was deep inside of Henry moving his intestines.

Henry:"Ah ah ah ah. Fuck me... I need you"

Joey couldn't hold it anymore, he pulled out his new dick and shoot the load at his old back.

He was breathing rapidly from the fast tempo. Henry was still holding on. But Joey moved his head to the side and noticed his old dick leaking cum

Joey smiled. Yeah, fuck the betrayal. He's gonna be punishing him for that very often from now own.

Anonymous inbox request:

What about the great shift strikes. And everyone is swapped with the closest person at the moment. A story where henry cavill gets swapped with joey batey before some press con. And henry finds that joey's body has a dildo up his ass and he's so turned up that he begs joey to fuck him.

[vodika-vibes]

Hey Vodika!

I hope you're feeling better. I don't know if you accept requests, but I'll leave this here. Could I ask for a story with Commander Neyo? The situation would be that Neyo is eavesdropping on her S/O's conversation with her friends. He hears her friends say that she should break up with Neyo because he is a harsh, cold, uncaring clone and that she will not be happy with him. Neyo hears this and is devastated. He knows he may not be the best when it comes to feelings, but he loves his S/O. His S/O finds him and learns that Neyo overheard the conversation. That's why she wants to do everything to prove to him that she loves him and wants to be with him no matter what. 💓

Take care of yourself!

People Who Matter

Summary: Neyo overhears a conversation between his cyare and her friends after returning home from a long deployment.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1082

Warnings: Toxic friends

A/N: Hi there! I do take requests almost constantly, even if it might take a bit for me to get to your request! I hope you like this!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist!

 Commander Neyo is an asshole.

He knows it. His men know it. His General knows it.

It’s a carefully cultivated persona that keeps his brothers from prying too much into his private life and keeps him from getting too close to men who probably won’t survive the year.

That might make him a cold person, but being raised to die in a war will do that to a man.

The one good thing in his life, the only good thing in his life, is his cyare.

So far as he’s concerned, she’s perfect in every way.

His cyare isn’t a Coruscant native. She’s from some small planet in the mid-rim and came to Coruscant for school. And, once she graduated, she just refused to return home.

He once asked why, late one evening, and she just laughed and told him that she was happy on Coruscant, happy with him, and she was not quite ready for the responsibility that came with returning home.

Neyo didn’t push at the time, and he still won’t push now, if she’s happy then that’s enough for him. Though a large part of him can’t quite understand why she’s so happy with someone like him. 

But, right now, he’s not going to question it.

Because her love for him means that he’s allowed to decompress from the war in an actual apartment, with a proper bed and an even better shower. Not to mention home-cooked meals and as many kisses as he could ever want.

Silently, Neyo keys in the code to the apartment that he half lives in, and he pauses in the doorway, just before he calls out to his cyare. He hadn’t warned her that he was returning early, wanting to surprise her, though now he feels like he should have.

Since the shoes piled at the door suggest that she has company.

He steps into the laundry room, which is right next to the front door, and tugs his armor off, setting it on the shelf that she bought for that very purpose. Then he peels off his blacks and pulls on the casual clothes that she leaves in the laundry room for this very scenario.

It’s not much, a tee shirt and dark red lounge pants, but to him, they’re more comfortable than the softest shimmersilk.

Only then does he step back into the hallway and head towards the living room. However, he stops before he opens the door.

He stops because he hears his name.

“So, the reason we invited ourselves over,” Neyo scowls at the comment and the voice. That is Nalia, his cyare’s oldest friend on Coruscant, and, in his humble opinion, the worst person in the galaxy. “We wanted to talk to you about Neyo.”

There’s no reply for a moment, and then his cyare speaks, “You want to talk about Neyo?” Her accent is thicker than it normally is, and Neyo knows without having to ask that her “friends” have been bothering her about things again.

“We do.” Another woman says. That’s Linly, another one of his cyare’s friends, though she most often plays the role of Nalia’s flying monkey. “I know that you love him.” She almost sounds concerned. Almost.

“You need to break up with him.” Nalia interrupts.

“...I beg your pardon?”

“Listen, he’s cold and mean and uncaring and he’s only using you for your body—” Nalia lists.

“You don’t know him, at all.” His cyare counters flatly, “I’m not breaking up with him.”

“Look,” Linly interjects, “He is very handsome, but if it’s his looks you want, he has millions of identical brothers—”

“Enough.”

“He’s not good for you,” Linly continues, undaunted. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Neyo winces. As much as he loathes these two women…they’re right. He doesn’t deserve his cyare. He never has. She deserves someone as amazing as she is, and that’s definitely not him. 

He grimaces and rubs the back of his neck, he shouldn’t be listening to this. This conversation isn’t for his ears. And he’s about he walk away, when his cyare replies.

“You don’t get to decide if someone deserves me or not.” Her voice is flat and unimpressed, “The only person who gets to decide that is me, and I’ve decided that Neyo is perfect for me. And now I’d like you to leave.”

“Look,” Nalia says with a sigh, “We’re not leaving until you agree to break up with him.”

Oh.

Oh, absolutely not.

Neyo decides that he’s heard enough, and he slides the panel door open and steps into the living room. Immediately, he feels bad for not interjecting earlier.

His cyare is pressed into the corner of the couch, her hands curled into fists, while her “friends” loom over her.

“She said she wants you to leave.” Neyo says flatly, throwing every ounce of “unimpressed Commander” into his countenance as he can.

“Neyo!”

His gaze flickers over to his cyare as she pushes between her friends and hurries to his side, her arms sliding around his waist and burying her face against his shoulder. Neyo doesn’t bother to stop himself from lazily rubbing her back, pleased to have her against him again.

“You can leave,” Neyo says, his tone just on this side of polite, though the death glare he’s directing at them is enough to have them scurrying out of the apartment.

He doesn’t relax until the front door slides shut, and the lock automatically clicks into place. And then he’s wholly distracted by his cyare’s arms sliding around his neck.

“Welcome home,” Her smile is soft and small, and Neyo leans in to press his forehead against hers.

“Glad to be back,” He replies, his gaze scanning her face for any signs of distress, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” She shifts and lightly rubs her nose against his, “Just annoyed.” Her arms tighten around his neck, “They’re not right, you know?”

“About?”

“You not deserving me. You deserve everything and more.”

“I don’t want everything. I just want you.” Neyo counters with a small smile. “But you know, you could do better than me.”

“Never. Not in a million years.” She corrects, shifting once more to brush her lips against his.

Neyo doesn’t let her get away with that, pulling her closer so that he’s able to kiss her properly. “You need better friends, cyare.” He mumbles against her lips.

“A problem for later,” She replies as she tugs on the collar of his shirt, “I need to welcome you home now.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

[adverbally]

Sway Through the Crowd to an Empty Space

Written for the @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt “clothes on” | wc: 1,347 | rated: M | cw: none | tags: in public (alley behind the club), outdoors, making out, dry humping, teasing, not very smutty actually but they’re on their way there | background buckingham, drinking mention | title from “Let’s Dance” by David Bowie

———

Steve knows exactly what Eddie’s planning when he asks Steve to follow him into the alley behind the club. They’re both sweating a little, packed into the small space with too many other people, and they’ve been dancing for what feels like an eternity. Eddie spent the whole last song with his hands on Steve’s hips, looking at him like he wanted to eat him alive, and Steve wanted to let him.

He was about to invite Eddie into the bathroom with him when Eddie leaned in and shouted over the music, “I’m gonna go outside for a cigarette. Wanna come?”

And now Steve is pushed up against the dirty brick behind the dumpster with Eddie’s tongue in his mouth and his hands sneaking beneath the hem of his shirt, cigarettes long forgotten.

Eddie’s warm, draped all along the length of Steve’s body like a heated blanket, but it’s not enough to block out the chill of the late fall evening. Their cold noses bump against their flushed cheeks, and Eddie lets out an honest-to-god yelp when Steve’s hands come up to his jaw as their kisses deepen.

“Jesus Christ! Why are you so cold?”

“I’m waiting for you to warm me up,” Steve tells him with a suggestive smile.

Eddie frowns. “This isn’t going to be very sexy if you get frostbite and lose all your fingers.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.” Steve drops his mouth to Eddie’s neck to rewarm the spot where his hand had been. Just to be safe, Steve makes sure to suck hard enough to bruise. Bringing more blood to the surface will help them stay warm, right?

It’s enough to make Eddie’s hips jolt, rubbing his erection against Steve’s hip through two layers of denim. “Please don’t talk about Robin during sex,” he groans into the empty alley.

Steve pulls back to look at him in disbelief. “Baby, it’s literally freezing out here. How are we supposed to have sex if my dick is turning into an icicle?”

“Oh, is that why it’s so hard?” Eddie’s smile is adorably crooked, but his eyes are like fire beneath the shadow cast by his bangs. He sways back into Steve’s space to kiss him again, swallowing his gasp when their clothed cocks meet. “Let me fix that for you,” he says against Steve’s lips.

It takes all of Steve’s willpower to press his palms to Eddie’s chest and gently nudge him back a step. “What’s your plan here? Because I have a feeling that it will involve me coming in my pants and going back inside to be wet and sticky for at least another hour before we can leave and drop off Robin and Chrissy. And don’t say,” he points aggressively when Eddie opens his mouth, “that you’ll clean me up, or that you’ll just let me come in your mouth, because you already made me too aware of the possibility of getting frostbite and these pants are closed for business.”

“What if,” Eddie muses, holding himself up with a hand against the wall next to Steve’s head, “I make you come in your pants and we can make up a spilled drink emergency to convince Robin and Chrissy we have to leave early?”

“Or we jump to the fake emergency so we can go home early and have warm, comfortable sex in our bed instead of this disgusting alley?” Steve smooths his hands over the lapels of Eddie’s leather jacket.

Eddie narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “Compromise? Ten minutes of making out in this disgusting alley and then we can leave?”

“Five minutes. Just ‘cause I think you’d be really sad if my dick fell off,” Steve says with a sympathetic pout.

“Mmmm, I would be,” Eddie agrees reluctantly, with a fond glance down at the straining fly of Steve’s jeans. “Five minutes it is.”

Steve doesn’t waste any time pulling Eddie closer by the collar of his t-shirt and devouring his mouth. Now that they’ve put a time limit on their makeout session, there’s an urgency to their kisses– Steve has a deadline if he wants to take Eddie apart, leave him panting and desperate and hard in his pants. He wants to tease him now so he can blow his socks off later.

Eddie doesn’t resist, equally eager to crowd Steve against the brick until they’re pressed together head to toe. They’re basically the same height but Steve is slouching against the wall, making him feel small and safe with Eddie’s arms caging him in. Steve’s own arms wind around Eddie’s waist, settling his hands at the small of his back. Over his clothes, of course; he doesn’t want to cross the line from ‘teasing’ to ‘annoying’ by getting his icy fingers on Eddie’s skin again.

They physically can’t be any closer together with the layers of fabric between them, but Steve still tries, grinding his hips against the denim-clad thigh Eddie has pressed between his legs. It feels so good when they fit together like this, like they were meant to interlock, and Steve's grip at the back of Eddie’s jacket tightens in a futile attempt for more. He can tell Eddie feels the same from the tight hold he has on Steve’s hips.

The alley is quiet around them, save for the distant thumping of the bass from the speakers inside. They can’t hear much over the sounds of their mouths moving together wetly and their ragged breathing. When Eddie shifts to adjust their angle, Steve can see their exhalations turning to foggy clouds in the cold air.

“Okay, I can see our breath right now. Time’s up,” he announces.

Eddie drops his head with a resigned sigh. “Already?” he whines, nuzzling his cold nose along Steve’s jaw and making him shiver.

“I won’t be able to suck you off when we get home if I get hypno— hippo—” He looks at Eddie expectantly when he can't find the word.

“Hypothermia,” Eddie informs him with a final chaste kiss to his lips. “And you have a point, unfortunately. I think parts of me are going numb.”

Steve is about to make the obvious joke about restoring feeling to Eddie’s sensitive spots, but he’s interrupted when the back door of the club crashes open with a violent metallic creak.

He and Eddie all but leap apart, trying to look like anything but two queer boys who were just playing tonsil hockey.

“Steeeeve,” the newcomer whines. “We’ve been looking for you foreeeeeever.”

Steve breathes a sigh of relief when it turns out to be Robin, enjoying the loose and enthusiastic stage of drunkenness while Chrissy tries to keep her propped up like a scarecrow. “Rob, we’ve only been gone for, like, ten minutes max.”

“Yeah but I wanted to dance with you!” She blinks at him like she doesn’t get what he’s not understanding about her obvious motive.

Beside her, Chrissy is shaking her head emphatically and waving her hand in front of her throat, indicating that Robin is cut off for the night.

“You know what? That’s a great idea.” Steve uses a hand at the small of Eddie’s back to usher him forward. “I just need to get something first,” he lies.

“Oh! Can I come?” Robin asks excitedly, like this is some kind of epic adventure out of one of Eddie’s campaigns.

Steve ducks under Robin’s other arm, helping Chrissy to keep her upright as they walk down the alley in the direction of Steve’s car. While Robin is babbling away to Chrissy about how much fun she’s having, Steve turns his head toward Eddie and whispers, “See, no emergency needed.”

“She’s kind of her own emergency, isn’t she?” Eddie’s voice is low and husky with suppressed laughter.

It’s unfair how quickly Steve’s face heats up at the sound. “Stop being sexy until we get home. Twenty minutes, tops.”

“Twenty minutes,” Eddie repeats with a wicked smile. It’s a promise when he says it.

When Steve speeds the whole way back to Robin and Chrissy’s apartment, Eddie is the only one who notices.

[wings-of-ink]

I was thinking about an ask I wrote some time ago where MC asked Duri to teach them, if possible, to also be able to turn into a wolf. And Duri, in your answer, used the opportunity to make fun of MC.

But here is a funny scenario: What if against everyone's expectations, MC did end up turning into a wolf after following Duri's instructions. After all, we don't know MC's true origins. By all we know, MC may have some God blood in them, and may possibly be able to turn into an animal and just didn't know.

If you want it would be lovely if, like the original ask, both Oswin and Duri were present. But I understand if you want to limit the scenario to just Duri.

Hilarity and chaos would ensue. This is a fun one, lol. ^_^

Link to the first post:

Picking up where we left off:

You feel the burn of embarrassment as you turn your back on the laughing god and start to follow Oswin. You can't help but pout too...you wanted it so badly. Duri may have made a fool of you, but it doesn't stop you from admiring their wolf-form. You want that for yourself, it calls to your spirit. There's a pull, an unspoken link with your soul.

As you make it through the trees, Oswin sighs heavily. "I should have interrupted sooner...I shouldn't have left you alone with that idiot..."

"It's fine. Maybe I was silly to ask such a thing." You shrink in on yourself.

Oswin stops. "I don't think it's silly. This world is more fantastic than either of us thought...it's not wrong to want to play a bigger part in that."

You can't help but smile a bit. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. You're already fantastic in other ways - you don't need to be a magic wolf or anything to be great." He turns to you with a wide and sweet smile, his eyes shining with something unspoken.

The humiliation you feel slowly drifts away as you match his gaze...until his brow begins to furrow. "What's wrong?" you ask.

"Your...well, your eyes..."

"What about them?" You touch the side of your face, perhaps you have dirt near your eyes.

"They're...um, they're glowing." Oswin looks a mix of fright and wonder as he stares at you.

You can barely register what he says before the light bursts from your eyes and surrounds you. You see Oswin flinch from the brightness as you feel a sudden warm sensation in all your limbs. And then, it's over. You look around, and nothing seems unusual...except...now you feel shorter. Why am I shorter? And your clothes...are on the ground. Why am I naked!?

Oswin looks down at you, mouth agape.

You make to speak, but it comes out as a yip. Oh...oooooh.

Duri rushes through the brush behind you. "What was that? I felt..." They spot you.

As you meet Duri's eyes you feel a flood or warmth - a connection - and your heart pulls in excitement. Whatever feelings you had for Duri before are amplified and a whine leaves your throat without your realization.

Duri cups a hand over their mouth and looks from you to Oswin and then back. "They're so cute..."

You growl.

Oswin kneels. "I don't know what to say..."

You watch him closely and notice he's smiling. He's giving you the same look he gets when he sees puppies and seems to be resisting reaching out to pat you. I think he likes this...

Gently, Duri turns your attention back to them. "I had a feeling you had secrets, lambchop, but nothing like this...I hope we're not related..."

You show your teeth - are you smiling or snarling - that's a gamble Duri will need to take.

"What a pretty coat too." Duri guffaws.

I wonder what I look like...

The demigod grins. "Difficult to describe, but your face is black and so are your ears, but the rest of you is a lovely mottled silver. Your eyes are the same color but much lighter than normal - they sort of glow."

You tilt your head.

"And, yes, I can hear you...in a way."

Oswin scoots into your line of sight. "Would you...would you permit me to pat your head? Please?"

Your tail wags.

Oswin gently rubs your head and ears - it feels spectacular. Duri joins in and scritches your chin. No wonder wolves and dogs scramble for this.

Humming in thought, Duri looks you over. "I wonder why you are normal wolf size...maybe you'll grow into it - I was really small when I started. You should get as big as me and we can terrorize the forest together...scare the shit out of the locals." A wicked grin plasters across their face.

Oswin is cupping your furry cheeks, smiling as he gazes at you. "This is wonderful, but I do hope you know how to change back..."

Shit.

[la2yn0va]

Could you do feixiao X Male Reader her finding out about his background he was experimented on to be an super assassin his one of the few survivors that were kidnapped as children (or whatever age if you don't feel comfortable) the kids became extremely dangerous strength, speed and senses off the charts they ended up having their voices removed so they use sign language or write and they aren't able to express any emotions not even body language they are often described as soulless unless they have a special face mask on and if that mask breaks in a fight they go berserk rage mode until the one who broke their mask is unrecognisable the survivors modified their mask so that it's a half mask that works same as the original mask but now people can now see if they can see some emotions like top half mask people can see them smiling or frowning same as the bottom half mask people can see emotions in their eyes

Feixiao always had a crush on you. From your ‘cool and loner’ demeanor, to the way you fight, to your clothes and eyes. She couldn’t help but love everything about you.

And better yet, you’d always beaten her in every competition you two had. From the events that came to the yaoqing, to the battlefield, to the spars you two had, you always beat her. And that made her love you even more.

But then, there was your eyes. Your soulless blank eyes, how your mask only covered your lower face, your stoic and stiff posture. It was concerning how robotic you were.

She noticed how the cloud knights were wary of you, as if they were terrified of you… much like her. Honestly, she hated how they just feared you with no good reason. But… she couldn’t help but desire why you were acting like this.

Why’re you so robotic? Do you only act like that around her? Do you hate her? Hell she didn’t even know what platoon you were in.

So, she digged into your life, your files that the previous general had. And what she found shocked her to her very soul.

Child experimentation, ripped out voices, molded into perfect super assassins. To think general yueyu knew of all these events was…almost unbelievable.

Then she saw writing in red letters ‘If m/n’s mask is broken. Under NO Circumstances should any cloud knight intervene with his wraith besides the general or the shadow company’

The shadow company.. so that was your platoon. Feixiao couldn’t control her shaking legs, the sadness she felt for you was immense. As a general she should’ve known about this right? But… as your friend… did you even consider her a friend?

She put the file back, deciding that she didn’t need to read anything more to understand your life. She swallowed, as the realization slowly crept up on her. The fact that her love would never be reciprocated.

However, she didn’t allow these thoughts to consume her. She can do something, she HAS to do something, she CAN save you, fix you. It’s her responsibility as your general and friend.

She changed her entire personality around you. She isn’t commanding or authoritative when acting as your general. She’s more gentle and loving when being your friend.

Feixiao one day decides to take you on a hang out trip (date) to try and find something you’d like, anything. She takes you to an arcade, movies, the park. Seeing if these child activities would awaken the child that was destroyed all those years ago.

Luckily, her hunch was right. She sees your well trained….your brutally imbued demeanor slowly crack. Your body language was more relaxed, your eyes ever so slightly widened with… joy? Or interest.

At the end of the day, feixiao takes you to a cliff side, where people got to see the best view for stars and a rainbow that was rumored to appear.

Feixiao: Just a little further m/n.

Feixiao said, holding your hand as she softly helps you towards a railing, away from anyone. You didn’t know why she was doing this…but…something about it was…intriguing. Feixiao had done something you and your platoon had accepted. She made one of them…feel. Well, as much as a person can feel after not feeling for hundreds of years.

Feixiao: M/n. Look!

She pointed up, making you look up to see the sky glowing beautifully with artificial stars. The same tingle that you’d been feeling since she’s taken you on this expedition appeared once more. The tingle made your lips quiver positively, your eyes opening further than ever before.

You were so caught up on this tingle that you didn’t notice feixiao staring at you. A smile of joy on her face as her eyes sparkled while looking at him. She decided to play her final card, moving her hand up to caress the visible skin on your face, making you turn and face her.

Feixiao: M/n… I’m gonna try something with you. Can I remove your mask?

Remove…your mask? Why? What could she possibly want to try? Was she gonna…. Crack your mask? As if she read your mind, she spoke.

Feixiao: I’m not gonna damage your mask m/n. I just want to do something to your face. Can I?

Something to your face…? To say you were interested wouldn’t be wrong. A part of you so small, so minuscule, so insignificant had become an annoying itch in your mind, a buzz in your ears that told you to ‘trust her’

The buzz and itch immediately annoyed you, it was so loud, so irritating, so….tempting. So, you nodded and feixiao smiled. She carefully removed your mask. Seeing the scars on your jaw and lips.

Her eyes widened for a second before returning back to those…strange stare with a smile that seemed to tug you closer to her. She caressed your face gently before bringing you in close and… making your lips mush with hers.

The feeling of your lips against hers made something in you begin to tickle and tingle. Your eyes widened a bit more then they normally did this whole day, and for once, your body froze, not knowing how to react. She then removed her lips from your which…left your body with a strange feeling.

Feixiao: I’m sorry m/n…I’m pathetic… I couldn’t hold myself back any longer….i-I love you, m/n.

She said which made your mind put the pieces in place. ‘Loves’ you…? Is that why she did this… she cared? The words she spat out made the buzz grow louder, this time, it seemed to have grown a tentacle or sorts, as you felt your hand lift up to hold her thumb.

Feixiao’s eyes widened at this before smiling, the smile that made your eyes shine once more like they did years ago. But only once. However, desires long thought to have been destroyed from your very soul seemed to return, as her smile made you feel…. Happy.

-The End-

[grimsonandclover]

Blurb expanding on this idea. Not proofread, written in an hour tops.

Nsfw

College!Artrick in the modern day instead of 2006/7. They're bored, Art's finished his assignments and Patrick's procrastinating so they decide to go to a party someone is throwing near campus that they've heard people talking about. Patrick wants to get laid, Art wants to talk to someone other than Patrick (he loves his friend but they've been around eachother 24/7 for days now).

Art's the first to come across you at the party. Platform pleather boots with metal buckles up the sides, a black, lace trimmed miniskirt with ripped fishnets underneath. A large black knit sweater with small holes at the collar, and Art's wondering to himself if it came like that or not. Like moths got to it. A large silver cross on your chest with layers of necklaces stacked with it, the fingers gripping a red solo cup clad with chunky rings and long acrylics.

Your head is turned away from him initially, so he only gets a look at your clothes at first. He approaches because he wants to ask about the sweater (he's never been good with icebreakers). When you turn to look at him, he thinks his heart stops.

Your lips are painted a dark red, almost black, and the first thing he thinks of is if it would transfer to his lips if you made out. Because fuck, he wants to kiss those lips.

"It came like this" you explain, and then he realizes that you're answering his question. "Why?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Cause it's cute, I guess."

Art couldn't explain it, but he believed you could make anything look cute. So he shrugged, agreeing. It's when you introduce yourself by name that Patrick finds Art again, and it's his turn to oogle at you.

He's never been a picky guy, barely has a solid type unless saying his type was "hot" was a valid answer. But seeing you... you're his type. Just you. Patrick's shoulder to shoulder with Art in an instant, leaning in to introduce himself loud enough so you can hear him over the shitty party music.

When he gets your name, he smiles over his solo cup as he repeats it. Art gives his best friend a look. Oh great, he's into you, too.

"I like your makeup." Patrick points to your face like you don't know where it is. "I didn't know emos could look so hot."

That makes you laugh. "I'm not an emo, but thanks, I guess."

Art nudges Pateick in the ribs before speaking up again. "And your jewelery, too. How long does it take to put on?"

The rest of the night is spent with the two friends competing for your attention, flirting with you the best they can. You know what's going on, and you let them if not for your own amusement.

You start noticing the two more on campus, and when they see you (which isn't hard to do) they awake sure to strike up conversation. It isn't long before you can call them friends.

Neither of them want that, though. They wanna see if your panties are as black as the bra peaking from your tank top when the sun's threatening to turn the school into melted goo. You wore a sweater at the party when you met so they couldn't yell, but this tanktop showed off the absolute rack you owned. They wanted your tits in their drooling faces. They wanted your glossy lipstick smeared over their cocks. They wanted to hear you scream their name as you bounced on top of them, feel you cum around them.

Instead, they settled on the long game. While hanging out, you'd mention the music you liked, what album you were listening to, what band you went to see over the weekend. The moment classes end and you all leave to your respective dorms, the two tennis players are both removing Drake and Carseat Headrest from their ques and playing whatever song you last mentioned to them. They do it just so they can tlak over eachother the next time they see you about the songs on the album they both suddenly know. Patrick finds himself unexpectedly loving Seether, especially, and he didn't even think he'd leave the experience liking the music for real.

You really start liking Art and Patrick, which you didn't expect. Sure, they were cute, attentive, and incredibly hot, but they weren't exactly the type of guys who normally approached you. Guys like them actually tended to be intimidated by anyone in alternative styles or genres. And they listened to you. Would let you talk about your interests for hours if you wanted. It made you like them even more.

They were surprised, too. Like I said, Patrick doesn't really have a type, just hot people, but most girls he's been with aesthetically have been pretty "mainstream" all things considered. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but it made you stand out to him in his fantasies. Both your style and your tits. He really liked staring at your boobs every chance he got. His top fantasy lately when he jerks off involves him smothering himself in your tits while he fucks you. He comes hard to the idea, making bigger messes over his fist and chest than usual.

Art usually got with "clean girls" or girls adjacent to that aesthetic, so hes confused by the complete 180 his tastes seemed to have taken since meeting you. You're all he could think about now. He wanted to wake up next to you in the mornings and see you fresh faced before your daily beat, watch your ritual of doing your hair and picking out your clothes and jewelry. He wanted to witness the whole process. And he wanted to motorboat you, but that's a side thought. He's also gotten off to the idea of being with you, but he's always so ashamed. He doesn't want to sexualize you like that, it doesn't seem fair or nice. Does that stop him? No. He's still scrolling through your Instagram, painting his fist and the corner of his phone white with cum to your latest thirst trap selfie, imagining that it's your hand around him instead, your acrylics wrapped around his needy cock when he whimpers your name into his pillow. It's hard to look you in the eyes afterward.

[34saveme34]

FINALLY HERE!!!

Imperfect Integrity 3/5 for Ties AU (check out my fic tag to see the others if you didn't catch up yet!)

this is quite marware fic

some silly warnings: self harm, blood, emotional so fucking emotional, gay, there's gay sex mentions (NOT CLICKBAIT), 4 being an asshole

20k words, so far the longest thing I had ever written, if I keep this up, which I'll probably will, the Ties AU at the end might turn out to be like, 100k words overall or so but that's just an estimate

also as an aside, for the next part you will need to watch Meta runners to understand the stuff in it, otherwise it won't make sense. so if like you want to watch in like. Idk when I'll be able to write AND finish it but it'll probably take a while until I get there.

now when I don't feel exhausted, I'll start working on the Magical AU ep 1 and probably like try to remember worldbuilding stuff I forgot to write down like an idiot

anyways, enjoy!

It had been a while since Mr Puzzles was cleared of the dredged piece. It really cleared his mind, even more overtime. Although, with no money, he didn’t quite know what to do. As he walked around the city, trying to jog his mind, to give him something to work with, he spotted one of his rivals. Or well…. to him more of an ex rival. They locked eyes, Puzzles wasn’t sure how they were feeling. Staring at him with such a mysterious expression, veiled by maybe his still foggy mind or he just forgot how to understand people.

“Puzzles…?” he could hear them speak. Puzzles suddenly straightened himself up as he was caught off guard. Maybe he even stared, how embarrassing!

“Y-.. Yes! It is… I…” he chuckled awkwardly.

“You’re… not here to scheme again, are you?”

“Hm? Oh… I kind of stopped that. Especially with my old studio smashed to the ground” he might’ve sounded a bit too devastated, something he didn’t mean to be in front of someone like this, someone who knew what he was before way too well and felt it on their skin. Even if they never exactly fully met face to face, especially not in such a casual way as now.

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it! I didn’t want to believe it. I mean, someone like you, losing your… your…”

“My everything? Yes, indeed… Is that all you want?”

“Uhm… I don’t know. I never quite got close to talking to you. You were always so…intimidating”

“Yeah I- I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t quite myself, to say the least”

They looked at him shocked.

“You- You’re saying sorry? Huh… You really changed.”

“For the better I think” Puzzles smiled fondly, one man crossing his mind.

“Heh… Well, I’m sure. So, what will you do now?”

“Well, I kind of don’t have anywhere to go and I’m out of a job”

They didn’t reply for a while, seemingly thinking something over.

“Hey… c’mere, maybe I can offer you something good”

“Oh? Sure” Puzzles took a seat in front of them.

Only now did he fully get a good look at them. They were in a white sundress, had green eyes and gray long hair, let loose draping their face a bit, one of their eyes barely visible. He was kind of used to seeing them in suits and other formal clothing from pictures so it was an interesting change. He really needed that sort of casual vibe right now.

“So… You may have been a boss before but… what do you say to working for me? I know you’re qualified so we don’t even have to bother with that nonsense” they smiled. They were serious about their offer. If Puzzles still had a jaw, it would’ve dropped. He still clearly looked shocked though.

“What? You’re a great catch when it comes to this industry. It’s even YOU doing me a favour. And don’t worry, I’d pay you accordingly too, you can name your price”

“Well… I’d like it if it was fair to the others as well. I don’t want to be paid that much more compared to other workers”

“So a little bit more?”

“Sure but- what position do you have?”

“Oh just- whatever”

“...Whatever?”

“Whatever you can take when you come to it”

“So… An… Everchanging position?”

“Well… considering you’re really skilled in all fields of movie making, I feel I would stifle your potential if I forced you into a single position”

“You flatter me”

They laughed.

“You earned it, Mr Puzzles. Even though you were a vindictive… ahem asshole, it’s hard to deny that you always were an extremely talented person”

“Hm… heh” he chuckled “Well, sure, I’ll take it. Let’s just make it official at some point” Puzzles added almost awkwardly. The offer did find him pretty suddenly so he might have rushed into it. Then again, he didn’t see anything bad to it. Though it’ll definitely make headlines that he’s working for a rival of his. There will probably be rumors about it. He didn’t care though, since he would still get to do what he always loved doing.

Just as his now soon to be boss was handing him a business card, he heard wild yelling. Not just any yelling, it was his name being yelled. And it was rapidly getting closer. As he turned to the source of the noise, said source tackled him.

“Mario needs you!!” Mario yelled, as the source of the sudden noise as he was sort of straddling Puzzles with how he knocked him over.

“Uhm…?” his soon to be boss looked over at the 2 and thought for a bit. Then they laughed “Well, alright, here” they gave him their business card “Just call me when you’re not busy being tackled by men” they winked then left. 

Puzzles felt a little hot as he got up, then ripped Mario off of himself as well, considering how he was latched onto him. Puzzles, being tackled by men? No! That never happened before. Mario tackling him down was an exception. And it didn’t mean anything more than that. He just… needed him for whatever reason.

“Mario needs you!!!” Mario repeated himself, looking up at Puzzles with his big blue eyes. God, maybe he will do whatever he wants! Who said that.

“What do you need me for?” he sighed, giving in, asking him as he crouched down to his level. 

“For research. For SMG1 and SMG2”

“Uhuuuh. And why exactly?”

“Our link.” Mario said as if Puzzles was already well versed in Cosmology lore.

“Our what now?”

“The thing I did for you to not die. Though it was on accident… Mario will do lotta accidents but he didn’t think he could do such a big one!”

Mario almost looked proud of himself.

“Hm… Well” Puzzles smiled at Mario, with such a disgustingly sweet smile, it couldn’t be more genuine “I’m glad you did, you really saved me. I would still be lost if it wasn’t for you”

Mario seemed to be lost looking at Puzzles’s screen. Almost as if he froze. It took a good few seconds for him to respond.

“S… So!! Mario needs you!! Right now!!” Mario picked up Puzzles and started running with him at a speed Puzzles didn’t think was possible for the avatar to achieve. He… truly had some wonderful tricks up his sleeves. And didn’t it just make him more endearing? Who said that. 

Mario ran with him to 1 and 2’s place, not stopping even for a moment before getting there. Almost like he was doing everything in himself to focus only on going and nothing else around him. 

They arrived and Mario quickly dropped Puzzles down once he entered 1 and 2’s home.

“There you 2 are!” 2 cheered.

“So, we can start, yes?” 1 chimed in too.

“What will this be for anyways?” Puzzles asked, still sort of confused with the situation.

“You see, Mr Puzzles, what you have with Mario is really special.”

Puzzles tried very hard to not interpret that in a different way than it was meant to. No way anyways! Mario was not his type. He wasn’t even sure if he would even like anyone though. He never really had people like that in his life. At all honestly.

“Special how exactly?”

“Well… uh, exposition time I guess! 2, get the exposition powerpoint!” 

2 brought out a projector, 1 pulled down a white projector background out of nowhere. Puzzles was a little impressed by how well the meme guardians were prepared for this kind of thing. Kind of made him think about the ways he thought of handling stuff before he went really crazy… Good times.

“So you see, I, SMG1, as well as SMG2, we are meme guardians, and also partners. As in cosmically linked. You see, this was something that was inherent to us since we started existing.”

2 flipped to an image of the 2, with their hands linked, in the process of transmuting a meme.

“Started existing? Cosmically linked?” Puzzles was trying to keep up.

“Yes, we are ageless in a sense. Maybe… Immortal is more correct? And yes, cosmically linked. Sort of like being soulmates. It’s so we can share our power and make each other stronger as well. While we can work on our own as well, working together almost always brings better results. Like what you see on the slide, this is us transmuting memes! The same is true for SMG3 and SMG4 as well. Now… You 2”

he sighed.

“I… I don’t really know to be fair” he admitted.

Silence filled the room. Puzzles was thinking how to react.

‘“Well uh… that’s why I’m here, right? So you can figure it out” Puzzles tried to be optimistic for 1 and 2.

“Right!” 2 chimed in. 1 was starting to feel better about it now.

“Yeah, I guess so”

“Should I bring the memes, 1?”

“Just what I was thinking! Almost like you read my mind”

2 giggled before leaving to get the memes.

“What do you need the memes for?” Puzzles asked.

“You see… I was wondering if your weirdly created link can also manipulate memes or not. Considering Mario is literally the avatar of this world- Oh yeah, Mario being the avatar means if he gets killed the whole world goes to ruin. He’s like the heart of this universe. Oh yeah, we come from a different universe, it’s just since we… lost our avatar, it went to ruin, it became uninhabitable. Dwelling on the past so much is no good though ahah.”

Puzzles was just nodding along.

“Say uh… I’ve been thinking… I remember when SMG3 and SMG4 mended their severed ties… although in a pretty dreamlike way, considering I wasn’t fully there but- they had their literal physical ties well- located differently”

“Physical ties?” 1 looked at him curiously “Why didn’t they mention this to me or 2” Puzzles could almost imagine the kind of talking to 3 and 4 will get about this… Ah, well, not his problem.

2 came back with the memes.

“I was just mentioning it” Puzzles started again, slowly to make sure he had 1’s attention again “Because their ties were on their hands, while with Mario, he does have it on his hands, I actually have it right by my collarbone”

“Oooh, the same place Mario grabbed with all his will to make sure you don’t die!” Mario added with a cheery tone, as if it wasn’t traumatic at all.

“E-... Ah, exactly, Mario” Puzzles sighed.

“Hm” 1 immediately grabbed a few notes to scribble on “I wonder if their locations being different could affect anything in this… even the fact that neither of you are meme guardians!”

he still seemed to be a bit frustrated with this whole thing. Puzzles kind of felt bad.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry” he spoke quietly but everyone looked at him. 1 panicked a bit.

“Oh no no no, I’m so glad to know this is actually possible! I’ve never seen anything like this! I’m just frustrated because it’s hard to figure out!” 

Puzzles showed a weak smile.

“Besides, it’s also Mario’s fault” Mario chimed in as he stood closer to Puzzles, as if he was trying to comfort him.

They got to a few tests after finally everyone was okay. They came to a few conclusions: The power of the link can be measured physically, however it is more chaotic than the average guardian link, thus it is more unstable. It cannot affect memes, however it has the potential to be more powerful than that. Though that was just a theory from 1 based on how it managed to save Puzzles from going back. However he did note the shared pain being so intense must have something to do with it. 

As they were leaving, Mario didn’t seem to leave his side.

“What?” Puzzles looked at him.

Mario seemed to struggle before finally spitting out something that had been on his rather empty, echoey mind of his. 

“Mario was thinking if you want to live with him!! Considering that he knows you don’t have anywhere else to go right now!!” 

Puzzles was taken aback. He chuckled, his face feeling a bit hot, hot enough that Mario noticed.

“Heh, uhm well, didn’t know you took such a liking to me, Mario” it almost felt like Puzzles was teasing Mario, even though it wasn’t his intention at all. He just wanted to stop feeling like a shaking leaf over kindness.

More concerning, Mario seemed to stop, again, that frozen face of his. Puzzles was scared he hurt him, immediately trying to make it right.

“I mean! That you feel sorry enough for me! I mean uhm, you must not be inviting just any homeless person to live with you!” if he could sweat right now…

Mario slowly regained the composure he seemingly lost.

“Hey now, I do like you a little bit” Mario said cheerfully as he went to lead the way to his and Luigi’s house.

Likes him a little bit? Oh those words were like flints trying to spark something and slowly causing a fire inside his head, making him even more stupid about this whole situation… Oh, it must be the link! There wasn’t anything weird to be explained here, he was just feeling this way because of their link and nothing else. Especially since it happened so recently too! Who knows, it could be actively lying to him about his feelings!

They went inside the house, Luigi greeted him. 

“Mario did say you had nowhere else to go so I agreed that you could live here until you figure something out!” 

“Thank you, it really does mean a lot to me, more than anything” Puzzles sounded so awfully grateful practically on his knees but that could’ve been because he was so god damn tall, it had both brothers ever so lightly flustered. Just a tiny bit but enough to where Puzzles was starting to notice it.

“Oh, of course! It’s the best we can do, it really isn’t much!” Luigi was the more awkward one while Mario just laughed then stared in front of himself. It was almost like he was asserting dominance with just his gaze. Puzzles once again felt awkward.

“Oh, did I mess up… This social interacting thing really isn’t my strong suit right now-”

“Oh, you’re fine, really! Just never had someone so grateful for hospitality is all” Luigi finally sounded fine again “Besides, you can always really thank us by helping around. Mario is like a tornado of messes anyways and I wouldn’t mind help with that”

“Hey! I’m not that bad” Mario defended himself.

“Heh, what, bro? You want to look good in front of your new friend?”

Friend.

Friend.

Friend.

Friend

Oh, it rang so many times in Puzzles’s head. It should have settled in at this point but hearing it like this what did it. Sometimes he still thought he was living in that total loneliness he used to be in before. He smiled. He smiled so much, if he could he would’ve cried.

“I’m your friend?” he sounded like he was genuinely crying.

The 2 brothers looked at him.

“Of course! You’re our friend!”

“Mario thinks you’re pretty cool”

He grabbed both in a tight hug before setting them down again and leaving immediately to a different room. He didn’t even know the layout but he sure was going. At least he was exploring on his own! Oh, he was feeling like a dumbass then. He seemed to stop in what was possibly Mario’s room, considering how messy it looked. But it did smell like him so it was definitely his room. His smell had such a comforting effect on Puzzles, probably due to the fact that the link they newly formed was having undeniably strange effects on him that can’t be attributed to anything else. Nothing else at all. Besides he could NEVER be into fat italians. Just a combo he always found unappealing. So why would he EVER find that type of man interesting or worth his time now? Not even character development could ever do that to him! Just a forceful cosmic link that makes you believe untrue and super false things!

Mario opened the door to see Puzzles on his bed. It was kind of silly, considering he was not even close to being able to fit on the bed. He was just way too tall and lanky to fit on there right. It made Mario chuckle which made Puzzles notice him. They stared at each other for a bit, before Puzzles got up.

“I got in your bed- that wasn’t my intention”

“Mhmmm… It also doesn’t seem big enough for you…”

“Huh? Yea I- How did I not realise that” Puzzles laughed awkwardly as he decided to just plop down on the ground instead.

“It’s okay, Mario understands. Puzzles man only recently became normal”

Puzzles nodded, not knowing what else he could add to this. He didn’t want to run his mouth and say something stupid again. Was he always this much of an idiot? He could barely remember at this point.

Mario could easily notice the frown forming on Puzzles’s screen, which only served to concern him. He sat beside him.

“You good?” 

“Oh I… Well, would you really want to listen? I think it’s just a bunch of nonsense but-”

“Yes, Mario will hear you out. You think he doesn’t think about a bunch of nonsense? You underestimate him”

Puzzles chuckled.

“Well alright… I’m just feeling really stressed… about life in general I think. Since it moved on without me- I can’t exactly resume from where I left off. And my head feels weird in general. Sometimes just… feeling like doing things without thinking or something…”

“HmmmMMmmMMMMMmMM” Mario made loud thinking noises.

“Oh? Do you have an idea on what it could be?”

“No…. although….”

“Although?”

“SMG4 noted before that I acted pretty weird lately”

“Oh huh?”

“In his words ‘Why did you just suggest something good to my videos that wasn’t a meme?’ “

Well this puzzled the Puzzle. 

“What did you suggest?”

“Don’t remember” Mario looked aside for a moment then he seemed to become rather content about himself.

“This is weird… We should talk about it with SMG4 sometime…”

“Mmmm… wait!!” Mario suddenly got up and ran to a calendar “We’ll have vacation soon!!”

“V… Vacation?”

“Yeah! SMG4 said we all deserve one good break!!”

“Huh! So um… I won’t see you for a bit?”

“No way!”

Mario furrowed his brows before he grabbed his phone and went outside. Was interesting seeing Mario act this way… not just stubborn but so… He didn’t even know how to put it into words.

As he sat there, beside Mario’s bed, his mind started to wander, listening to the silence better and the noises hidden in it… The analogue clock that was hung on the wall dominated it although he could hear other things. Like the wind outside. Steps sounding across the halls outside. Even the light hum of his screen finding him. It was rather peaceful, it let him think. He still needed to think about a lot. Or maybe just not think at all. The idea seemed rather attractive. Even though he now cringed as he remembered how tightly he hugged the 2 brothers before running off like a mindless idiot. Good thing Mario didn’t seem to question it. Maybe he should look at things in a similar way! Do first, question why later. Or never, preferably. What could possibly go wrong?

As he was deep in his thoughts, what stirred him from his daydreaming was yelling outside. He now knew it to be Mario, it was rather well… fitting to him. No one else could yell the same way as Mario does. What an odd thing to note for Puzzles…He chose not to think about it though. Just appreciate Mario’s unique nature without further thought. 

A few minutes later, Mario came back with a big smile on his face.

“Mario convinced SMG4 to let you come with us!!” he cheered, hugging Puzzles.

The affection still felt weird, he was still battling feelings. He was sort of relieved when Mario let go of him but he still wished it back so dearly. It was probably one of those things where he couldn’t turn off his brain no matter how much he wanted to.

“You should keep hugs to a minimum, Mario” he commented.

“Awww, you don’t like hugs?” he sounded a bit sad “Really funny how you hugged us so tight before… Mario don’t get it” he looked genuinely stumped.

“I don’t know! I do but I don’t. Just- Just keep them short… please?”

“Okie-dokie!!” Mario smiled “Hmmm… what should you pack for vacation….”

“I kind of don’t have anything” he laughed awkwardly.

“Uhuh… Not even a phone?”

“Nope”

“MmmmMMMMMMMMmmmmMMMMmmmmmm damn”

“Am I not enough by myself”

“I’m gonna ask Luigi if we can get you stuff, can’t just let you come with us with zero planning. That could generate issues we could combat right now instead of leaving it for later”

Mario left. His tone was different from usual. This man was LEADING and with GRACE at that. Puzzles felt starstruck. What the fuck? Sure, Mario had his moments acting a bit outside of who he is but this was so much more. He talked like… Like how he would. Eh, it’s probably nothing!

Luigi got dragged into the room.

“Mario brought Luigi here for you”

“Sorry” Puzzles already felt the apology escaping him. He didn’t think much about it right now afterall. He didn’t think anything. He definitely wasn’t thinking. Why would he be thinking right now? Don’t be silly! He was definitely not thinking and thinking till the end of the Earth! Only the old Puzzles would think about how much of a burden he felt like as soon as he was himself again. The new Puzzles would definitely not feel like he was worth nothing or even less, or that he didn’t deserve to be forgiven even if he was kind of brainwashed.

He was definitely not thinking about any of that. He would never. End of it.

“Hey, it’s okay!” Luigi tried to reassure Puzzles “You do need some things. I heard we’re going to the nearby beach so you need at least some kind of beach clothes. Can…. Can you even go in water?”

“Everything except my head”

“Then yeah! We need swimwear for you. And we need to go shopping anyways!”

“Are you sure?” Puzzles still tried to be nice but was trying to hide so hard that he wasn’t feeling okay mentally.

“Of course! We need spaghetti for Mario anyways so I wanted to go shopping! And maybe… I know where we could get you swimwear”

“Alright” Puzzles got up, hitting his head “Sorry, I’m so tall”

Luigi giggled.

“Well, sadly that’s one thing we can’t fix”

“I think I’ll get used to it”

“Hmm…” Mario thought out loud “Maybe you can squish the spiders up there for Mario”

“Sure thing, Mario” Puzzles smiled at him before turning away, not entertaining anything in himself. Such a stupid idea to overthink such a simple thing anyways. It did freeze Mario though, especially because of the way Puzzles would say his name. Maybe he was a little unwell about Puzzles. Even Luigi noticed the tension between the 2 but decided to brush it off.

“C’mon, guys! We gotta finish while it’s still bright outside!” He left the room, the other 2 soon followed. 

Mario was oddly quiet during the shopping trip until they went to a shop that seemed to be holding just- an abhorrent amount of swimwear of all sorts. Even styles Puzzles never saw before. He was a bit overwhelmed by the selection, although less and less as he reminded himself that about 90% of the stuff sold here won’t fit him considering how god damn tall he was. They went inside, looking around. The shopkeeper, a rather old lady, came out and immediately led the 3 men to the taller section. Now there Puzzles had the chance of finding something good!

They looked around, Puzzles started to feel rather picky. He didn’t know exactly what to go for. 

“Stumped?” Luigi looked up at Puzzles as he seemed to be struggling.

“I don’t know what I exactly want”

“Aren’t bikinis hot right now?” Mario chimed in “Mario was also thinking about getting some”

Puzzles flushed red.

“Me? Showing skin? Don’t be ridiculous!” Puzzles seemed rather defensive. And utterly embarrassed. 

“Mario! Don’t just say things without thinking!” 

“But I’m Mario” 

“You embarrassed him!”

The 2 brothers went onto arguing about boundaries while Puzzles searched further. In the end he found one of those one piece swimsuits that reach from elbow to knee and seemed satisfied with that. It was probably his best choice. Luigi bought it for him. After that they also got him some clothes so he could change later. Once again something that was hard to find at first but since their wonderful world was very diverse even without Puzzles’s amazing lankiness, they found clothes that fit him.

“I’ll pay it back though!” Puzzles said “Write it up somewhere and I’ll totally have it covered as soon as I start working again!”

“Okay okay!” Luigi tried to calm Puzzles down “This won’t drive me broke! If buying Mario a yacht’s worth of spaghetti each month doesn’t then nothing will”

“Oh that sounds like soooo much spaghetti” Mario salivated at the thought.

“Don’t entertain that idea!”

Puzzles laughed at the two.

“Alright but still write it down somewhere. I don’t want to use you too much”

Luigi nodded.

They got home. Luigi went to unload all the groceries while Puzzles got dragged to Mario’s room by Mario himself. He seemed to be going toddler tantrum mode by how tired the day had gotten him or maybe he was just upset he wouldn’t get a yacht’s worth of spaghetti. Even then, his grip on Puzzles was stronger than what should have been possible. 

Mario laid Puzzles down with ease and laid beside him with not much afterthought. He fell asleep fast and even then clung onto Puzzles pretty strongly. He could not escape. 

He couldn’t help it, he let his mind race. He didn’t know how he exactly felt about Mario but he really might make him act up at this rate and he wasn’t kidding. He was being so cute through all of this and at the swimwear shop what kind of sounded like flirting. It definitely wasn’t though! He doubted that Mario would pull out actual flirting just like that. Nobody ever made him feel this way and it was super infuriating for him.

He kind of ended up riling himself up as he angrily stared at Mario. That anger slowly slipped away. He couldn’t stay mad at him. He hadn’t known him for that long anyways, he could always just be feeling this way because experiences in general felt new to him. He just- won’t fully entertain this crazy shit right now but try his best to give himself space to process his feelings. Even if it might throw off the people around him. Even if it could cause him to be a  burden… He stopped at that. He also didn’t want to feel like dead weight around the crew. Especially as he imagined how god awfully awkward he’ll feel around everyone when they go on that vacation. This was gonna be really hard on him, even if he realised he needed space for his big feelings. He yawned. He felt tired too. He pulled the blanket off of the bed and tried his best to cover himself and Mario as well. Kind of weird, but they managed to fall asleep on the floor together. 

The 2 slept soundly together, as they tangled up more while sleeping. Considering how neither was a light sleeper, Luigi had an interesting sight to greet him when he went to Mario to tell him that breakfast was ready.

He giggled at the sight and even took a picture. That’ll be something he can tease Mario about later. He left the room quietly with an evil grin plastered on his face.

It took a while until Mario stirred. Even he was surprised that he was held so closely by Puzzles. And just how warm he was. And wasn’t nearly as hard as he thought he would be, considering his body was made of wires and cables. He actually felt really comfortable. Maybe a bit too comfortable. He still couldn’t quite understand what was going on in his brain. He just let the thoughts run across him as if his mind was a waterfall and these thoughts were feeble, unfit fish that are defenseless against the power of a waterfall. Just like how his thoughts were defenseless at Mario’s mind becoming so empty they become nothing as well. Though that just left him confused. He didn’t know if this was okay but hey! It was probably nothing. It’ll just solve itself in some roundabout way like how things usually just go off in a chain reaction around him. He was sort of used to things happening to him and around him. Just like when his Mighty Italian suffered at the merciless door’s slammige. Although he was panicked, things happening around him kind of solved it. Just like how a good but silly plot demands it. This time should be no different. Since there was a good and engaging start to this and it had slowly been ramping up, it should reach a satisfying conclusion. It was only fair, to make a story that could leave a mark on people… What… What were these thoughts? Even Mario himself was stumped at his thoughts. Maybe it was because he just woke up but he wasn’t exactly the type to have discussions like this inside his head for fun. He preferred his mind to have as much of a reverb as St. Stephen’s Basilica no less and with the most disgustingly awful sound system set up, so bad any words spoken are drenched in noise, losing clarity. Honestly, maybe even more. Make his mind as echoey as a hollow Earth would be and record it with an xbox type headset.

He looked up to Puzzles, discarding his thoughts as he observed Puzzles’s softly humming screen engulfed in static. It was rather mesmerising. He squirmed until he freed his hands and reached up to feel his screen. Even his screen was sort of warm, although harder than his body, there was still something startlingly alive about it. He became a little obsessed with it. And it seemed Puzzles chose the worst possible time to wake up.

Mario hesitantly pulled away his hands from Puzzles’s screen. 

“Hmmm?” Puzzles didn’t speak yet, just humming softly as he woke up.

“Good morning, TV man” Mario defaulted to being sort of polite. It seemed he couldn’t fully discard those thoughts now! Unfortunate. Suffer my gay wrath, Mario.

“Morning, Mario…” he yawned “How’d you sleep”

“Pretty good… you’re comfy” he giggled as he cuddled closer to Puzzles. To his dismay. Puzzles sat up. He whined. Puzzles pulled Mario off of him. 

“Physical affection time is over now” Puzzles said, rather dryly. 

Mario looked at him, with waves of sadness, waves that washed away in his blue eyes that got so big, pleading, looking at Puzzles just to give him one more second of physical closeness. Puzzles strongly averted his gaze. Although now he won’t be able to get those puppy eyes out of his mind. 

He stood up, this time more careful to not hit his head in the ceiling. 

Mario decided to brush it off. Though, once again, he couldn’t quite discard it all until he thought about breakfast.

“Oh, Mario’s gonna have breakfast” and there he went.

Puzzles sighed. Even yesterday, Mario got to him quite a lot but he didn’t have the heart to push him away. Especially not after what he ended up thinking about after Mario fell asleep. Although, based on how it all went down, it might not be the last time that Mario would fall asleep latched onto him. And he was a bit worried about the fact that it didn’t bother him. Though maybe it was better for him to get used to it. He knew he had to make some odd sacrifices to make his life work again. Or more like start working for the first time ever. 

He left to see Mario destroying breakfast. It was as if they made mukbang but violent. He already saw what Luigi meant by Mario being something to deal with. Luigi looked at him, they shared a look. He sat down with the brothers to eat with them. Although he didn’t need a lot to sustain himself, he still needed a bit. And as he did, the 2 brothers looked at him. Puzzles felt embarrassed.

“What?” he already tried to defend himself “can’t a man have his breakfast?”

“TV eats…. pretty cool” Mario was maybe a bit too joyful about Puzzles being able to eat.

“I just didn’t think about it before but it makes sense! Sorry if we caused you to feel bad”

Puzzles sighed.

“Thank you, apology accepted… I just don’t want to be seen as a freak is all…”

“Of course, it’s understandable”

“Mario will fight the haters for you” and he sounded serious about it too.

Puzzles was clearly flattered, maybe a bit flustered. Luigi looked between the 2. Puzzles looked at him. Luigi gave him a look that could only be described as having the vibe of ‘Idk what’s going on with you 2 but I’m not gonna get tangled in your problem’. Puzzles felt defeated.

“Say… When exactly is the vacation?” Puzzles changed the subject.

“This weekend”

“Oh huh! 2 more days then… At least I have time to attend to… actually getting a job”

“TV already getting a new job?”

“Yes, Mario” he said “Actually you interrupted me in the middle of it when I was asked to join my ex rival’s studio. Which is why I would’ve needed the- Wait we actually really did forget about getting me a phone” Puzzles stared off “How will I call them now?”

“You can use our land line!” 

“Oh, thank you! Maybe next time we go we can actually get me one”

“Sure thing, Puzzles! Let's hope we don’t forget next time”

“Yeah”

He got up and left, forcing the conversation to end. Mario watched him closely then stared at where he saw Puzzles leave.

Luigi took his phone out with the picture he took of the 2.

Mario noticed the motion under his face, looking down. He took a bit as he realised what he was looking at. He slowly flushed red. Luigi grinned at the reaction.

“I see you slept well” he teased Mario.

Mario couldn’t react as he turned away from Luigi, trying to hide his face. His ears being so red were giving away his thoughts though.

“Oh, dear god, you’re THAT smitten” Luigi laughed, now feeling a bit bad. Mario would usually try to throw hands at this point.

He looked back at him with the most genuine shock in his eyes.

“Smitten??!” he said with so much disbelief, he genuinely didn’t think about it that way.

Luigi stared at him.

“You didn’t think about that at all?”

“No!!! Mario is too stupid for stuff like that!” he seemed rather panicked now.

“Oh, bro” Luigi now just fully felt bad, as he wrapped an arm around his brother, trying to comfort him “I get that it can be hard to deal with these feelings-”

“Mario thought he could only love spaghetti” he started sobbing. Luigi looked unamused.

“...Just know I’m here to listen if you wanna talk about it, okay?” 

Mario nodded then hugged him. Good grief, he didn’t think he would need this so suddenly, just like this. He didn’t even know he could develop feelings in such an embarrassing way. He wasn’t the cool and easygoing Mario anymore, he was stupid and scared now. Sure, he could be scared but it wasn't exactly usual for him to feel this anxious. Not even Peach could make him feel that way while she was around and he still sort of liked her. He never felt like he’s fumbling a bad bitch or something, especially because that fumbling was part of their relationship in a way. However here he felt so much more, being scared he couldn’t be enough for the man he happened to fall for a little bit. Maybe it’ll just pass! That was an on and off thing with a certain someone who wasn’t Peach. And he even grew pretty casual about it too! But this… Mario was fucked. As in utterly, deeply and strongly fucked.

He sighed which drew attention from his brother.

“Mario thinks it’ll pass. Just very intense right now. Way too intense” by the end it sounded like he was whining. 

Luigi chuckled and patted his back.

“If that makes it easier to sleep at night”

Puzzles took a while, it felt like time stopped. But he came back afterall. Why did Mario feel he was gone forever? He wouldn’t leave… would he? When… When he is able to make good money he probably will.

Mario stayed oddly quiet while Luigi and Puzzles were discussing something entirely unimportant to him. It was all just noise. His head never felt so full, it felt suffocating. Uncomfortably so. So many things he had been through yet this broke him in a way he didn’t know could happen to him. He quietly got up and got himself more spaghetti to occupy himself with something. Luigi didn’t say a thing, just glanced at him. Puzzles was none the wiser about the fact that Mario wasn’t just having seconds, he was actively coping with eating. 

The day passed by. Puzzles had the job now, he would start as soon as he got back from the vacation they so suddenly invited him to. More like Mario invited him. From what little he could guess from what he saw and heard, SMG4 really didn’t like him. Not that he had a problem with that, he had every right to. He just knew it could easily make things awkward. Especially because he didn’t know what to expect. Hell, what if he ruins the whole outing? Just making it awful for everyone around…. It truly scared him. In these times, he was weirdly glad he had Mario sometimes latching onto him in his koala kind of manner. Though he did draw the line at his screen being used to watch stuff. Sure, he had so much love for television himself and all- but that was his face! And his face is there to be a face, not to just be your usual household equipment. Mario did try every so often though until he seemed to reach a breaking point with it. He was REALLY bored but he also didn’t want to bother Puzzles into… maybe even hating him. The thought sent a chill down his spine.

Mario was struggling, oscillating between being beside Puzzles or not. He finally put his foot down, abruptly leaving. Puzzles was sure puzzled by this. Staring a hole into the door, as if the door did something to him. He realised what he was doing was dumb as hell as he pushed himself up from the floor and left the room. No one was inside so he left the house to look around. He found Luigi tending to their garden in the back. It was small but really pristine and well-kept. He did know it was a passion of his so it didn’t surprise him but he thought it would be bigger.

“Anything wrong?” he must have stared because this was a question he got from Luigi.

“Oh no, not really! I was just- looking around is all. And it felt a little lonely inside.” 

Luigi hummed.

“If you want to know, Mario left to SMG4”

“Ah! I see! Not… Not that I asked it but thank you”

“Sure” Luigi said with sarcasm which Puzzles did not pick up on at all.

For a while he didn’t do much until he had quite the grand idea. He looked around the house on his own, searching for stuff to aid his idea. On his quest for a pen or pencil and paper, he found personal stuff which he didn’t mean to. Like pictures and notes about adventures they both had. He sighed, happy that they both had such an eventful life, but also feeling jealous for the very same reason. He wished that were him. He shook his head, though he couldn’t help but wonder about all those adventures as they slowly seeped into his idea, tainting it so so sweetly. And it showed. His idea wasn’t only his anymore. But he did like it. 

He started to sketch out concept shots for it as well, full of drama and plans for all sorts of lighting, camera angles, scenery, the practical effects, even ending up pondering about the sound effects, the kind of music he’d use. It’s almost like his love for filmmaking never left him.

By the time Mario got back from an adventure with SMG4 which he induced by causing problems, as he tends to from time to time, he found his room covered in a lot of doodles, with Puzzles being in the middle of it. He looked like he was consumed by it but didn’t seem bothered by it. Grinning happily and without care in his metaphorical black hole of passion. Mario found the smile rather contagious. He couldn’t help but stare at everything, taking in so much detail. Usually his head would explode over such actions, especially because there were words he had to read, or refuse to take in information but today seemed different. He took it with open arms, just like the man in the middle of this beautiful mess.

Their eyes met, shared a few moments of eye contact. The realness of it all, it was sickening and weird. Mario wished some really bad things while being so deeply enamored. Made him wish he never existed. 

Puzzles on the other hand was more confused although flustered. He didn’t think about it too much before but Mario’s opinion on him might have mattered more to him than he let on.

The stare off ended as Puzzles awkwardly spoke up.

“Uhh- hey, Mario! Are you interested in my work?”

Mario took a bit.

“Mario doesn’t know what you’re making but it looks cool”

“Oh they are just plans for scenes I was thinking about! You see, my plans are always all over the place but they always come together in the end!”

“Hmmmmmm….” Mario thought strongly “Like a puzzle”

Puzzles got flustered at the comment as it hit him. He felt stupid for not realising it sooner. He didn’t even choose it because of that, even though this was right there to justify it.

“Oh, dear, aren’t you so smart!” he laughed, slowly letting the awkwardness pass him by. 

Mario shook his head.

“Barely if ever”

“Exceptions exist just for that you know”

“Uh- Guess so? Wouldn’t know”

“Say… would you like to listen to me talk about all this?” he gestured at all his notes and sketches.

Mario thought for a bit then answered rather unusually. 

“Sure, yeah” he sat down beside Puzzles as he started going over the intricacies of building up his perfect scenes. Even having them connect so well, although a full script or story was currently not finished, they were genuinely falling into place. Such an impossible feat, working like that. No wonder he was considered a catch if he can do things like that. And Mario ate it all up. Nodding along to his words whenever he looked for validation to continue, without even thinking much about it. It just all came so unsettlingly natural. 

It felt like so much time had passed when Luigi knocked on their door and opened it, seeing Mario leaning on Puzzles while Puzzles was full of excitement talking.

Luigi giggled at the sight which alerted the 2. Although both were flustered Mario was the one who had it worse. 

“Just wanted ask you 2 if you want dinner” Luigi said as he put a hand on his hip, teasing them.

“Oh hmm dinner haha!!” Mario spoke nervously as he got up fast and ran for the kitchen. Puzzles rolled his eyes, looking a little disappointed.

“I see you’ve been working on stuff” Luigi said, pointing at all the stuff scattered on the floor.

“I’ll clean up!”

“Of course!” Luigi giggled “That’s not why I mentioned it”

“Then…?”

“It’s just great to see you have fun! Now come and eat, you probably didn’t eat all day and that’s not good”

Puzzles got up with a smile on his face. He really was having fun. Especially… when Mario joined. Although that thought was quite complex for him and one that made his head hurt, he still couldn’t wipe off the grin he got going on. He felt almost controlled by it. Not in a bad way, just in the way that he couldn’t hide his happiness at all.

They all sat down. Mario devoured food like a bottomless pit while the other 2 ate a normal amount. Mario eating was a bit too loud this time to make casual talk. The way he sounded, he might as well be choking on pasta at the rate he was taking it in his mouth, making sure he had a good mouthful. And this made him messy as all hell as well, if the absolutely disgusting noises he made weren’t enough. Luigi sometimes glanced at his brother, concerned. He did that enough for Puzzles to notice as well. 

As soon as they finished, Luigi grabbed Mario without a word, dragging him to shower. Mario was screaming about not wanting to shower. Puzzles just watched, awkwardly waving him goodbye, as if out of solidarity. And it was but Puzzles was scared if it looked like he was mocking Mario for getting forced to shower. 

He sat there awkwardly for a bit before he decided to go back to Mario’s room. He tidied up his notes and put them neatly together in a way he knew he could use it again. Order was important to him, sometimes the only thing soothing his anxieties.

He sat down on the floor, then slowly flopped over. His ever so crazy creativity going so fast before drowned out his sleepiness but now it came out full force. He thought over the day as he closed his eyes, noting his thoughts one by one. Being invited to hang out with people who he hurt before. He was scared of how that could go. He would understand if they threw him out immediately after seeing him. Hell, maybe it would be a mistake to take him at all! Even when not possessed, he was still a nuisance, not ready for the world at all. And he felt like the world wasn’t ready for him either. Maybe he’ll just choose to stay away from the others and not talk to anyone! Maybe they would even be glad. Yes. Of course. What else would be a better choice than shutting the hell up as soon as he is around people who could easily make him feel awful even just with a slightly negative glance. He would crumble if he even uttered a word. 

The door to the room opened momentarily shaking Puzzles out of his thoughts. Then fully as he saw that Mario was wearing pink pajamas with a mushroom pattern. The mushrooms had faces and looked like they were ripped from some kind of obscure children’s show. Both the top and bottom had mushrooms. What made it actually kind of funny was the miserable face Mario held. Puzzles chuckled at the sight, he found it way too silly like this.

“You like Mario’s drip?”

“Sure do” Puzzles chuckled again “It fits you well”

Mario rolled his eyes.

“What do you know, Puzzles!” He was clearly playing it up dramatically, and he was failing at even acting like it. He was grinning so much. 

Puzzles yawned.

“Well, I know the day had been long”

Mario stepped rather close to Puzzles, clearly expecting something.

Puzzles looked at him, knowing exactly what he wanted. They hadn’t spent too much time together yet but reading Mario was quickly becoming easy for him. He sighed as he got up.

“Okay, but I’m gonna shower first”

Mario sat down, looking up at him with big puppy eyes.

Puzzles groaned at the sight, was it convincing? Absolutely. Was he gonna practice self control for the sake of not only himself but his hygiene? Also yes.

“After I shower I’m yours all night just stop making that face”

Mario nodded. Puzzles left.

Mario was left to his now mildly filled head. It was bouncing thoughts so awfully. He wished he could think about pasta forever but sadly that wasn’t possible for him. Even before, but now even less. It felt like his head from comfortable silence went to experience white noise. Ever so constant, out of nowhere too. He couldn’t say he fully hated it though. Every once in a while, he just wanted to embrace it so strongly, with his whole body, just the amount of passion he felt even just the thought of expressing it shook him sober. Sober on the idea that he genuinely gained feelings for someone like Puzzles. He didn’t like feeling this aware.

Puzzles came back, Mario’s cloud of soberness immediately dissipated into a different world as he latched onto Puzzles. Puzzles felt a little hot over it. At least he could blame it on the hot shower he took.

“Not wasting a single moment, huh?” he teased Mario, kind of half intentionally. Lot of mixed feelings about it but he didn’t want it to end. It was actually kind of nice.And being sleepy did make him clingier as well.

“Nuh-uh”

Puzzles chuckled as he held Mario in his arms while he laid down.

“Say…” Mario started, looking up at Puzzles.

“Hm?”

“Would you like to come over tomorrow to SMG4’s as well?”

“I- I’m not sure he would like that”

“C’mon! I’ll convince him”

“I- I don’t even know what I would say when I’m there. Doesn't everyone else in your friend group hate me? I did bad things so it would be only fair”

“Times are changing, TV man!” Mario playfully booped Puzzles.

“Are you sure?”

“It would also be good to test the grounds before the vacation”

“Test the grounds, huh? I’ll say… I like the way you think”

Mario seemed to freeze. 

“You good, Mario?”

“You got Mario confused… what thinking did he do?”

Puzzles was looking at him, kind of confused but more disappointed.

“C’mon, Mario, I know those braincells of yours can work out some beautiful things. I’ve seen it”

Mario blushed at the compliment but played it off.

“But Mario got no braincells, only himself! That was all Mario original”

Puzzles couldn’t help it, he laughed at the silly joke.

“You know what, just for that, I’ll go with you tomorrow, just make sure you help out if things get bad”

“Yay! Mario will be your cool white knight”

Puzzles couldn’t help the smile that was growing on his screen just thinking about that.

“Alright. Now sleep”

They slowly fell asleep, in such a sure place. Sure as in right. Might be just the weird feelings in them but it felt like their bond strengthened. Maybe they could even take over the world with what they got. God damn it, good for them! Good for them.

The next morning rose, along with Puzzles first this time. He wanted to get Mario off of himself so he could dress up, considering he was in his pajamas. He actually didn’t like loose fitting clothing like this too much on himself. Sure, they were more comfortable to sleep in but that didn’t mean he would like them.

But by GOD, he didn’t have the heart to wake Mario like this. He could imagine the expression he would pull on him if he tried. And that expression is deeply dangerous!

So all he could do was lie there, taking it as if it was a punishment. He wasn’t necessarily that miserable though.

After a while of lying there, he made up his mind. He REALLY wanted to get dressed. And of course, he was right. He got the most sad puppy look of Mario.

“Please just let me dress up”

Mario whined but let go of Puzzles, letting him grab his stuff and then leave to dress in the bathroom.

Mario was looking at the door until Puzzles appeared again. Lucky for himself, he was too sleepy yet to have further thought. All he knew was that he was already missing the warmth. As soon as he was back, Puzzles opened his arms for Mario to come back to.

It wasn’t exactly the same but it still satiated him.

“You know, I never would’ve guessed you would be clingy” Puzzles noted casually while getting his notes out of where he put them to make sure they still made sense. 

“Oh, Mario’s been this way… he would often sleep at SMG4’s for this reason”

“You… would cuddle SMG4?”

“Yes. Anything wrong with it?”

“No, I was just cur-”

“Maybe jealous?”

Puzzles lit red at the accusation.

“I’m not jealous! Don’t be ridiculous!” 

Mario laughed. 

“Mario believes you”

“Thank you”

Puzzles went back to sorting his notes again, although still a bit bothered.  The more he thought about it, he DID feel a bit jealous. And he felt so stupid for it. He shouldn’t even have the audacity to feel that way. 

Mario clinging onto him did sooth the silly thoughts he didn’t want to have. 

Mario let his grip loosen as he turned to the notes. He was looking at them pretty intently.

Puzzles noticed as well.

“Anything wrong, Mario?”

“Just…. this” he pointed at one of the notes which was detailing a character of the movie Puzzles was working on. It was the protagonist.

“Yes?”

“You were saying this character doesn’t have a motive to do things he does yet”

“Yeah?” Puzzles was puzzled by the verbose thoughts from Mario but listened nonetheless.

“A great motivation would be love. For this character” he pointed at another character, it was actually the secondary protagonist “You said you want this character to be more goofy but I think it would make it interesting if these 2 had something more going on. Especially because you could also show a motive for the murder in act 3. Maybe just make that character a little worse and there!”

Puzzles was staring at Mario. Oh, his mind was full of so many thoughts. And he looked so…. Uhuh, Puzzles, what were you thinking there? 

“That… Actually works pretty well. Hell, it could even work as a twist at the end! So unexpected that the comedic character could end up as the motivator. That they were… always meant to be lovers”

“Even better” Mario laughed “Better write it down”

Puzzles hummed.

“Now Mario’s gonna get breakfast”

“Have a great feast” Puzzles teased Mario.

“Mmmmm feast” Mario walked out with a silly smile on his face, thinking about how big a feast can get. Since this was about Mario, probably very big.

Puzzles looked over his notes and corrected over with the new detail where he saw fit. With a few corrections, the story really felt more whole now. Something about the fact that Mario helped him with it also made him love it more. He wondered if he was supposed to feel bad about that. He and Mario didn’t know each other for too long yet so… would it be… would it be bad to say…

Puzzles shook his head as he clumsily reassembled his notes and hastily put them away as he went outside. Why was this so hard to think about?

He left the room to see Mario indeed finished his feast at this point. He was actually lying down on the floor at this point.

Puzzles looked down at Mario confused.

“Mario’s coping” he said weakly.

Puzzles chuckled, smiling down at him.

“Understandable”

They gazed into each other’s eyes until Luigi disturbed them. 

“Puzzles, I have a lot of work around here, can you help? I’d ask Mario but I don’t know-”

“Mario was planning to go to SMG4! WITH Mr Puzzles too!”

Luigi sighed.

“Can you help me with this at least?” Luigi almost pleaded to Puzzles.

“But of course”

“Hmph” Mario stumped off, making sure he’s very far from housework.

“He can be quite a handful sometimes” Luigi sighed again.

“But of course” Puzzles said, chuckling.

Luigi watched him catiously, while still cleaning another dirty plate left by Mario’s Mario-sized feast.

“You like him a lot, huh?”

Puzzles seemed to go into deep thought as he thought over that. 

“I guess so… in some ways”

“Some ways?” Luigi seemed puzzled by the Puzzle himself.

“I… do like spending time with him. He can be nice… my opinion can always change though! I could always… end up hating him”

“Hey I get that. Having any kind of relation with Mario isn’t exactly the easiest thing. He IS hard to handle and can be awful to handle- he can do awful things, sometimes even just to spite you. But when he doesn’t do that I do think he’s worth it. I wouldn’t have anyone else as my brother”

“That’s sweet, Luigi… I just don’t know if I’ll last beside him…”

“Oh?”

“It’s just- maybe I… I don’t know…” Puzzles got rather quiet by the end.

“If you’re scared Mario doesn’t like you, I can assure you he does. He doesn’t exactly latch onto people just like that”

Puzzles felt his screen heat up over the mention of the clinginess Mario could prosper in.

“Okay…”

“Is that all?”

“No… It’s very hard to get back to- everything. And I- never had a real friend before. Even before the- possession, I didn’t focus on it as much as I should have”

“Well… then you just have to be patient. I think you know things will be hard and that shouldn’t stop you”

“Right…. thanks, Luigi”

“Anytime”

“I’m also uh…. I also wanna ask for advice. Because I was convinced to tag along with Mario to SMG4’s and I…”

“You’re scared the crew is gonna hate you?”

“Yeah…”

“I get that, I’d be scared if I were you too. Some of them can be hard headed. But they can be really kind too. If you just act like yourself I think you should be fine”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They might make fun of you but they do that to each other all the time. You should’ve seen how SMG3 and SMG4 were before- But they still all love each other, so who's to say they couldn’t love you too?”

“Mhmm… Yea, you’re making a lot of sense”

“I know. I’m sure you’ll do fine. With Mario as well”

“Thank you, Luigi. Now I’ll feel forever indebted to you”

“Oh you” 

After they finished with the dishes, Puzzles went to get Mario so they could go to SMG4’s. 

He wasn’t in his room.

“Mario?” he called out for him “There aren’t more dishes left, we can go”

No answer.

Panic set.

It’ll be okay! It’ll be so. Fine.

“Mario, please?”

He waited in the room.

“This isn’t the time for games, please”

He paced in the room before leaving the room. He went to Luigi.

“I can’t find him”

“Mario? Hmm” 

Luigi went to the front door. He opened it. He took a big breath in. Puzzles watched in anticipation. 

“MAAARIIIOOOOOOOOOO” he shouted, he sounded amplified,, Puzzles swore he could feel the vibrations of his voice. It must carry far if it was this loud for him. How the hell did he do that? Some kind of Mario brothers gimmick or something? He wasn’t sure.

A worried Mario showed up, seemingly coming from the road he’d take to SMG4’s. Even though he was nervous, Puzzles’s heart sank. Did he not want to bring him along? Maybe he really was a burden.

“Mario! You left Puzzles here!”

Mario froze.

“Oh-” 

Puzzles didn’t say a word.

Mario collected his thoughts.

“Sorry- You still want to come?”

“Sure” Puzzles said, sounding rather defeated.

The 2 set off, Luigi could finally relax while 2 were to fight off tension.

They were silent for a while then, Puzzles not even looking Mario’s way.

“Hey… I’m sorry if I upset you. I… didn’t mean to just- ran after my empty head-”

“I thought you didn’t wanna bring me”

“What?? Why else would Mario ask you??”

“I… I don’t know, to take pity on me?”

“Mario doesn’t take pity”

“But.. you took me in as well-”

“Because Mario finds you cool!”

Puzzles felt himself getting hotter over the compliment.

“You think so?”

“Of course!”

“Well, I… I think you’re cool too” Puzzles chuckled with a lovestruck expression. 

Mario never felt so in love. Damn it.

He jumped up and hugged Puzzles, which halted him as he didn’t want to fall over. He stood for a bit before Mario spoke up, looking up at Puzzles with big puppy eyes.

“Can Mario stay here?”

Puzzles chuckled, trying to stifle his embarrassment with little success.

“Sure, but we’ll keep going”

“Good with Mario”

Puzzles went on, with Mario wrapped on him. He held him with one arm while letting the other relax by his side, following the rhythm of his stride as he followed the path to SMG4’s.

By the time they got there, both got rather used to the contact. It was hard to deny it was rather comfortable.

He saw some of the crew outside, seemingly discussing something. It was Meggy, SMG3 and SMG4, with Eggdog and Beeg there. They noticed the 2. 4 immediately went back to the discussion while the other 2 waved at them. He waved back awkwardly.

“We’re here?” Mario asked.

“We sure are… Do you want to get off?”

“Well, if Mario needs to…” Mario reluctantly loosened his grip on Puzzles, landing on his feet without trouble.

 Mario walked ahead and Puzzles followed behind, still an air of awkwardness with him. The glance 4 took at him alone brought back all the anxiety he was feeling before. 

“Hey you 2!” Meggy greeted the 2. 

“Didn’t know Puzzles was coming today as well, good to see you though” 3 said, while carefully looking to 4 too. He knew something was going on with him. Puzzles understood what he was getting.

“Hi” 4 said as he turned around, only one glance at Puzzles then looking at Mario. Even that single glance burned him.

“Mario, remember when we were talking about an event idea for 3’s café?”

They started talking about something Puzzles couldn’t contribute to. So he just stood there awkwardly. Not wanting to go anywhere because he didn’t want to leave Mario’s side but also wanted to leave so badly because he was feeling so awkward. And it definitely didn’t help that he was also really tall compared to the others. Really made him feel like he was never meant to fit in. He wished he could sink into the floor until he felt someone poke him on his forearm. He turned around to see Tari.

“Hi” she said, with a look of understanding. 

“Hey?” he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“You weren’t here before so I was wondering how good you are at games!” she said, already dragging him along. 

“Oh! Sure!” 

Mario looked at him.

“Okay! Happy gaming for you!”

Tari brought Puzzles inside, letting him take a seat on the couch in the gaming room.

“Okay… Puzzles” she looked at him with certain firmness, a sort of care “You looked like a shaking leaf. Sorry if I- appeared suddenly, I just wanted to help you out. You don’t need to game if you don’t want to”

“Uh- Thanks, Tari. I want to try at least. Just be gentle heh” he chuckled.

“But only this time”

Tari brought up Smash and showed Puzzles the controls and showed off stuff in game as well. Letting him get used to it, he didn’t play super awful. He didn’t win a single time but he did put up a good fight. 

“Sorry, Puzzles” Tari was feeling bad “It’s really hard to turn my gamer brain off. You could try fighting against a bot?”

“A bot?”

“Yeah. It’s a player controlled by the game”

“Sounds good”

They played for a while until Meggy appeared there too.

“Gaming going well?” she asked as she sat beside Tari.

“Sure is” Puzzles smiled “I didn’t know games could be so much fun”

“And this is only one! We have quite a few more here. I also have other games I sometimes bring over” Tari cheered.

“By the way” Meggy spoke more quietly “Sorry I couldn’t help you out, Puzzles. I wanted to but the talk of the café event was pretty important too.

“No worries. What’s it gonna be?”

“We’re still in the idea phase. Maid event came up but 3 shot it down”

“Maids, huh? I’d prefer butler” Tari said.

“To dress as one or to be served by one?” Meggy asked.

“Both” Tari giggled.

“Well, now I want to be a butler for it. Maybe I’ll mention that to 3.

“Oh, yeah, how did you manage to get away?”

Meggy took a bit to reply.

“Well… 4 wanted to talk to Mario privately”

Both girls hummed while Puzzles froze.

“Oh, I hope it’s nothing bad”

It was something bad, Mario could feel as he followed 4, rather quietly. It felt like if he tried anything he would be killed on sight.

“So” 4 sat down on his bed, patting the spot beside him for Mario to sit down. Mario hesitated but sat down.

“Did Mario do something wrong?”

“I’ll decide that when I know more. You are pretty clingy with him, huh?”

Mario turned red. Not only did this feel like an interrogation, it was also about his maybe-kinda-probably crush.

“Guess so” he looked away.

“Did he do something to you? Hurt you? Manipulate you? Why are you letting him live with you?”

“Mario just… wanted to be kind”

“That can’t be it. You can tell me if he tried to threaten you”

“But he didn’t! He’s actually really nice”

4 didn’t seem satisfied with the answer.

“He must have gotten to you badly”

“Oh, awfully” Mario flushed at the thought. 

4 wasn’t happy.

“You like him or something??” he asked, anger dripping out of his words.

The longer Mario didn’t reply the more sure 4 was.

“I can’t believe you. We don’t even know if we can REALLY trust him!”

“You’re not even giving him a chance!”

“You wouldn’t either if you knew what I went through because of him!”

“You would if you knew what happened in the void!”

“Shut up! He probably manipulated you then as well!”

“Why are you so insistent? Are you jealous or something?!”

“I just want to protect you” 4 sighed, lowering his voice “You’re important to me, Mario. You’re my best friend”

Mario didn’t know how to reply as he left the room, tears falling from his eyes.

“Wait!” 4 ran after him.

The 3 in the gaming room heard Mario leave. Puzzles felt it in his soul. He was terribly sad. And scared. 

“We have to check on him. He’s doing awful” Puzzles said.

The 2 girls followed him. They went to Mario outside but 4 was still trying to catch him.

“It’s gonna be worse if he betrays you when you like him” 4 shouted after Mario. He didn’t realise the other 3 were there.

Meggy ran up beside 4, grabbing him by the shoulder with force.

“You’re just making him more upset! This won’t make anything better!!”

“But what if he tries something?? He can’t-”

“Yeah, what if I try something?” Puzzles spoke up, while looking down. He wasn’t being silly, he felt scared. 

“It’s like he’s confessing to a crime right now!! Can he really be trusted??”

“Is it too far-fetched to say someone could redeem himself? Or did you never actually trust SMG3?” Mario spoke up, rather angry at 4. Throwing words he might not mean later but he was so angry. It engulfed him and Puzzles too. Puzzles could feel it burn, he was so mad. 

“That’s fucking different!” 4 lunged at him after prolonged silence. 

“And how so?? Do you have proof??” 

“Why would you say something like this about someone like him??”

“Because you speak like that about Puzzles”

“Because- UGH” 4 gave up as he walked away, leaving without another word. His aura somehow seemed to remain though as the 4 of them couldn’t say a word for a while now.

Mario was the first one to do anything, he walked up to Puzzles and held one of his hands in his.

“I trust you, don’t worry” he looked up at him, showing a hopeful smile. Puzzles smiled back.

“Thank you. At least someone… believes that”

“Hey, we believe in you too!” Tari said.

“Yeah! We’re here for you, Puzzles. Even if you did bad things in the past”

“I guess… SMG4 just doesn’t forgive. But honestly I get it. I did awful things. Then again I helped him get with SMG3-” he joked lightly. Mario chuckled at it.

“In a weird way, yeah” Meggy and Tari chuckled too.

Puzzles was glad his silly moment was a hit with the crowd. Good grade for socialisation. 

“But back to it. You’re right… it seems he doesn’t forgive easily. I’m sorry if this made things hard for you” Meggy apologised for 4. 

“You don’t need to be sorry!” Puzzles reassured her “I just hope he’ll be able to calm down. I… I don’t hate him”

“Puzzles is right, we can’t apologise for someone else. 4 will have to do that himself” Tari reassured Meggy, who earned a smile in return.

“By the way, we could go back to gaming” Puzzles suggested.

“Let’s go gaming!!” Mario cheered.

The 4 went back inside to keep playing fun games.

4 paced in his room, starting to doubt stuff. He swore he was right, he was so sure he was right. This man, he knew, he had wicked plans. Wicked plans to ruin people. He almost ruined SMG3, his world, he almost ruined his world for good. It made him so angry. The idea that he could lose his best friend that… that monster. It made him so angry. He wanted nothing more than to cut him out of their life. He wished he didn’t exist at all. So nobody would’ve gotten hurt by his schemes, let that be trauma from being killed several times, risk of losing your privacy, losing oneself to perfection, losing oneself to self loathing and the idea that you’re not enough. He had an impressive collection of things he had done and he didn’t understand how anyone could trust him. How Mario seemed to adore him so much…

Did… Did Mario fall in love with Puzzles?

No… No way. He would act differently about that. He was just… Maybe Mario is playing 4D chess with Puzzles. Sure.

Stop lying to yourself, SMG4. You know very well that you are just trying to make yourself feel better because you can’t cope with the things that happened to you. You’re lashing out because you feel alienated. But you don’t know that. You can’t put it into words. All you know is that you hate Puzzles.

You hate him so much.

He paced around a little more. It was so unfair. Why did it only have to be him?

He left the castle, walking. Just walking. Somehow ending up right back in the café.

“Hey, where were you bl- Oh my god” 3 reacted accordingly to how 4 looked. He looked so messed up.

3 dragged him away to fix him up as much as he could.

“You can’t be serious” 3 whined.

“It’s not fair” it was all 4 could say.

“What’s not fair? I’ll listen” 3 said, cupping 4’s face. But instead of saying anything he burst into tears. 

3 hugged 4, not really caring much about someone screaming outside to order.

“There there…I’m guessing this is about Mr Puzzles”

“Yeah…” 4 said, kind of ashamed in a way. It was hard to deal with the fact that no one else seemed to care.

“You know… I don’t like him too much either but… I don’t really want to concentrate on it. I’d rather give him space to improve than to… push him into new villainy.”

“But… He could take Mario from us… What would I…. Would I be a good friend if I lost him just like that, because I let things happen?”

“Blue, you’re making things worse right now… I bet Mario isn’t happy about this either. And he can fend for himself. Don’t take the guardian part of your name this seriously”

“But I… 3…” 4 seemed to press on.

3 hugged him tighter.

“I’m hugging the worry out of you, 4”

4 chuckled.

“You’re being so silly right now”

“And you’re smiling about it. It’s working.”

“You know you could… do something else to get the worry out of me…”

3 was staring at 4. 4 was staring at 3 with an emotion he identified way too quickly.

“Shush… Don’t tempt me right now. After work you can”

“Bummer”

3 gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Too bad! Now work, slave” he said jokingly as he then left outside to finally take the yelling costumer’s order.

4 sighed, getting himself together. He couldn’t fail 3. He already did bad enough today.

The day went by rather decently. Even if the feelings didn’t leave. They festered in their minds. Almost unkillable. With so much guilt. Rage. Anxiety. Love. So much.

Hard to bear. Too hard.

The night grew closer. Mario excused himself for a walk from gaming. 

It felt like he was in a bubble. The world felt unreal around him. So many things happening. Weighing on him. He didn’t want any of this. He wondered if he deserved it anyways. Pain. Pain. Pain. Love. Pain. Guilt. Pain. Sadness. Love. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

Guilt.

He ran and ran until he felt his soul reach back to Earth. He looked around, it was dark. Just a dark night. It was comforting. He sat down in the grass looking up at the sky. Being alone was like medicine. Sure, he enjoyed his time playing with his friends as well. Especially with Puzzles. He actually managed to beat Mario in smash because he got distracted with him. He may have a competitive heart but it’s also really stupid. Nevertheless, the grin and cheer of Puzzles made it feel like Mario won instead. Won guilt.

Guilt.

Guilt.

Was it his fault that SMG4 was acting that way? How could he ever make sure this didn’t happen again? He cared so much about him. He wanted to make things better for him so badly. 

Love.

Puzzles. He… 

Guilt.

He couldn’t ever hurt him. Even if he was forced, he’d fail to. 

So there’s only one person he could actually hurt.

He went back inside. The thought not leaving his mind. 

But he pretended. He pretended he was fine. But it was eating him up.

There was only one person he could actually hurt. For the benefit of his best friend.

And nobody noticed a thing. 

He went back home with Puzzles.  Nobody noticed.

He got home and had a shower. And still, nobody noticed. 

He told Puzzles he’d be back after a midnight snack. He still didn’t seem to notice.

Mario left the room. With steps that felt heavy but were lighter than a feather. He didn’t need Luigi to know. He took all sharp utensils out of the drawers. cutting himself in the process. It hurt.

But it didn’t do a thing. It was like the scene changed and his hands weren’t even hurt now. As pristine as ever. he bashed his hands on as many sharp edges as possible. Hoping for something to stick but nothing. It was like the world was against him hurting himself.

He cursed to himself as he tried again and again. While his hands didn’t retain even a sign of hurt, his blood still remained. Odd. He did feel a bit light headed. He tried to stab himself as well, in as many places as he could think of but it all yielded the same result of nothing truly sticking. But that might have been from him concentrating so hard on hurting himself. To get him out of this hell he put himself into. He made a big mistake. If only he waited enough inside that void for the meme guardians to save him. If only he didn’t feel a sort of kinship. If only he didn’t start liking Puzzles. If only it was so easy to cut him out of his life. If it was only so easy to make SMG4 happy. If it was only so easy for Mario to be happy. To not worry. To not feel guilty. To not feel like the cause of everything bad happening.

He felt frustrated, not knowing what he could use.

Puzzles appeared, soft light coming from his room as Puzzles seemed to turn on a smaller one. It gave him a glow. Like a saviour.

“Mario? What are you doing?” Puzzles asked, trying to keep back just how worried he was.

Mario didn’t react.

If only he didn’t take out the piece. If only he didn’t feel bad for it.

The piece…

The piece. 

Mario, without a word, bolted for the door, leaving in record speed. Puzzles went after him.

He ran after him as much as he could. But he couldn’t keep up.

He cried, holding it right at the scar. The ties. It hurt. It hurt from the pain Mario felt.

Puzzles locked eyes with the ground, concentrating. The energy, he felt it connecting the 2 of them. He searched in it. A blinding power. 

And he concentrated on it further. He wanted this to be over so badly it brought physical results.

He stopped Mario in his tracks. With only his mind. He finally managed to catch up and catch Mario in his arms.

Puzzles felt warm and comforting. The light was still strong but slowly dimmed as Puzzles held Mario in his arms.

They didn’t need to speak a word. Mario tightly hugged back, crying into Puzzles’s shoulder. 

They were there for a while. 

Just in each other’s arms, settled in silence. They understood. As much they could.

Mario’s sniffles slowly calmed down. Puzzles got up, with his arms still wrapped around Mario as he began to walk back right to their room.

Even the walk was silent but both sure were thinking. Especially as they passed by the painful red reminder. Puzzles felt like he got there too late. That he should’ve listened to the signs earlier. At least he still caught Mario from doing something bad. 

They got in their room. Puzzles settled down.

“Listen…” Puzzles started carefully “You don’t need to explain yourself if you don’t want to. That’s fine. I know you’re going through a lot I can feel it and I’m sorry… I wish I could help you more. You… helped me and… here I am… making life hell for you…”

Mario grabbed Puzzles’s head. He had a rather firm grip. They were looking at each other.

Puzzles still had that guilty look.

“I’m really sorry, Mario I-”

But before he could say another word, Mario pressed a kiss on Puzzles’s screen, immediately shutting him up. 

“You’re so much, Puzzles”

Puzzles didn’t even know what to say, his screen was just increasingly heating up. In fact he was way too hot. Mario took his hand away from his face as even through his gloves he could feel the heat becoming too hot.

“Ouch, you could fry an egg on your face” Mario tried to joke. 

Puzzles seemed frozen until he slammed Mario down and held him. He held him so hard. Something about that just made him open up more than anything else. He felt like his soul was ripped open and it felt better than anything he ever felt. 

Mario felt a bit helpless under the weight of Puzzles. Not that he minded. It was actually kind of comfortable. 

Mario wondered what SMG4 would think.

And just as that thought crossed his mind, Puzzles rose up, straddling Mario, face to face.

“What are you thinking?” Puzzles asked, a sort of carefulness carrying in his tone. Showing how cautious he was but especially just how much he cared.

Mario felt hot himself, which was obvious as Puzzles screen wasn’t exactly dim enough to hide that.

“I want you”

That stopped both. Now you’ve done it!

The 2 just stared at each other.

“I need you” Puzzles one upped the other, leaning a little closer. 

This felt like a dream.

Mario pulled Puzzles’s head down enough to press another kiss on it. 

How could this feel so natural? Brain in havoc.

As another kiss. Another move. The comfortable pressure. A bite.

A bite?

A bite into the neck. But a gentle one at Puzzles’s neck, which slowly intensified. It was like Mario knew exactly how to get to him. It felt like this could escalate further before Puzzles stopped Mario from another silly little move up his sleeve.

“We should sleep…” he said.

“But…” Mario looked at him with the biggest eyes.

“No buts” he sounded a little cranky.

“I love you”

Oh. Oh alright. That really did it. Well, no stopping now!

They slept in for quite a bit. Sure wonder why.

Luigi decided not to bother them, considering some… things he heard in the night while passing by to go to the bathroom. Better not to bother them.

They took a while to wake up but first Mario did. At least he got time to admire Puzzles in a different way… At least as much as he could from where he was, locked in the hold of him. Honestly, he looked a bit more freaky in the light seeping in but that honestly just made Mario adore him more. With a body that looked so machine yet bore scars that felt like flesh. Maybe part of the reason he didn’t want to show skin. He didn’t know something like that was possible. Adoring Puzzles even more, especially so openly. I mean after what happened… would be a little concerning if he wasn’t… Or at least confusing.

While he could admire Puzzles till the heat death of the universe, Puzzles stirred at some point too.

“Morning, Mar” he said, still kinda sleepy.

“Mar? I like that” 

“Mhmm…” Puzzles cleared his screen a bit, as if to wash the sleepiness away. As he took in his surroundings more, he felt the heat… his fans could barely keep up.

“I-I thought I dreamed that” 

“I’m happy you didn’t”

“Yeah….… me too… sure did feel like a dream too… I… felt like I wasn’t fully… in control? I don’t know”

Mario grinned.

“That’s one way to describe wanting Mario so badly”

Puzzles blushed.

“You’ve no shame!”

Mario laughed at the response.

“You’re not wrong”

Puzzles got up and started dressing up. Mario couldn’t resist looking. Even doing the fuckboy expression, biting his lip.

But when Puzzles looked at him he looked away, as if he was innocent. They continued this until Puzzles looked at Mario rather annoyed and half dressed.

“I know you’re staring at me! You don’t need to”

Mario looked down, a lovestruck grin on his face.

“Mario can’t help it. You’re nice to look at”

“Am… Am I?”

“Yeah” Mario trailed off, slowly caressing Puzzles’s calf that was closer to him

He almost gave in again. 

“No! We have to prepare! We have a whole trip to go on!”

“Buuut Mario loves youuu!!”

“Not gonna work this time. Love you too though”

Puzzles seemed to be able to finally get dressed while Mario was melting on the floor. Melting with love. That’s all that was in his head. Nothing else right now. If only that could last forever.

Mario got up, grabbing stuff to dress up as well.

Puzzles was staring at his back.

“Ayo? And you shame Mario for staring?”

Puzzles brushed it off, reaching to a spot on Mario’s back. It looked burnt but in technicolour. It stung, pain coursing through Mario’s body.

“Does this hurt?”

Mario cried out as he fell over but it was too comical to take it seriously.

“Oh I’m sorry, dear! I didn’t know I ended up hurting you!”

“It’s fine!! Mario’s fine!” he got up “Mario will just..- continue on without a shirt for now”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry though. I didn’t mean to hurt you at all” he cupped Mario’s face in his hands. Mario leaned into it.

“You’re really affectionate with Mario now” he grinned so hard about it, even Puzzles couldn’t interpret this in a negative way. If he did, he’d have to be an idiot for that. And one bigger than Mario at that.

“Is that a problem? I’ll stop” he grinned, teasing Mario as he took his hands back.

Mario huffed in response.

“Mario loves affection… Mario loves you” the shyness compared to his previous behaviour- the difference was staggering! Puzzles found him adorable either way. Oh, wasn’t he such a weird combination of lovestarved and a hopeless romantic for this silly italian? Maybe it’s not exactly like in TV but he would lie if he said he wasn’t happy. He hoped nothing would come between them. He really did hope.

Maybe a tiny bit of worry in the back of his mind. Just the sliver of a chance that something could go terribly wrong. 

“Well, time to pack” Puzzles got up after thinking for a while. Mario looked at him like he was expecting something.

“What?” he asked.

“You forgot to say it back…”

Puzzles sighed and raised Mario up in the air by his armpits.

“I love you too, silly man”

The new name Mario got for himself visibly flustered him. Though that quickly turned into joy.

“Mario IS silly!! The silliest!!”

“And do you know what silliest men do?”

“Love their TV men?”

Puzzles chuckled.

“Maybe. But packing for vacation first and foremost”

Mario sighed.

“Okayy” 

Puzzles put him down.

Puzzles started to pack for himself, taking his sweet time making sure his stuff is as compact and perfectly packed as possible. So good in fact that Tetris players would be jealous of his skills. He laughed at his little joke in his head. He was SO smart. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Maybe what they did yesterday- really eased him up. Which was a good thing. He was kind of happy to have Mario, whatever that meant for the both of them.

As he finished, he noticed Mario struggling with it. He seemed to panic. 

“Dear, are you not good at packing?” Puzzles sat beside him, looking to see he indeed had quite the mess in his suitcase.

“Luigi usually does it for Mario” Mario said, feeling a little ashamed.

“Hey, I’ll help you! I’ve already done mine”

And so Puzzles basically packed for Mario as well. Just as neatly as for himself. Mario watched each hand movement and gesture Puzzles did, like a cat trying to calculate when to pounce.

Mario grew impatient and reached out quickly, grabbing Puzzles’s hand.

Puzzles wasn’t sure how to react for a second. This wasn’t anything strange from Mario to him but he did catch him off guard. 

“Mar, dear… we can hold hands later”

Mario looked at him like a sad wet puppy. Puzzles sighed and grabbed him, placing in his lap. Mario gratefully took it as his rightful place, while Puzzles continued packing with some trouble while trying to inquire what else Mario needed. Who knew a man in his lap could be so distracting. He wasn’t sure if he was fully comfortable but it was also way too nice. He liked the closeness and all. But the weight felt strange and alien to him still. He didn’t know before how he exactly imagined cuddling but the weight was definitely something to him. Just a constant reminder of a presence to him. He was used to feeling lonely. Just because he was brainwashed it didn’t mean he forgot about that. So this presence… In general, as it had been in these past few days, the moment Mario took that piece out of him as well. He swore he felt this all was meant to happen when all that went down. He may have gone a bit crazy but… can you REALLY blame him?

They got done, they went out, seeing Luigi had packed everything else they needed for the somewhat short trip. He stared at the other 2, knowing, especially at Mario, considering he didn’t have a shirt on.

“Mario, do you plan to dress up?”

“Mario’s back really hurts, he can’t” he whined.

“It can’t be that bad- OH MY GOD” Luigi freaked out when he saw it “how did this happen??”

“I… I can’t recall right now…. could’ve been anything” Puzzles said, with little confidence. He didn’t lie but he wasn’t actually trying to be sincere either.

“I’ll see what I can do for your back” Luigi took Mario to the bathroom. Puzzles watched helplessly. He didn’t exactly want to get involved, as much as this was his fault.

He felt bad about it, awful even. He let one person get close to him and it felt like he already ruined it. Maybe now Mario is really only with him out of pity. Who would want to be around someone who hurt them? Especially at such a vulnerable time. He didn’t want the thought to fester. He really didn’t want to. But it did, like a virus, he could feel it in all that was left of his nervous system.

He wondered if he even deserved Mario in the first place. Or if he maybe only brought Mario suffering. And he still felt out of place. How could he fit into a tight knit group of friends anyways? 

And just as he got so deep, the brothers made it back, Mario looking grumpy with a shirt on while Luigi felt a little tired.

“Alright, let’s get going to SMG4’s, we’ll be late at this rate” Luigi said.

Puzzles carried the heaviest suitcases because he was actually the strongest of the 3 but also he just really wanted to occupy himself. And so he was quiet. And he didn’t say a thing about it but Mario noticed. And he didn’t like the silence coming from Puzzles. He wasn’t a therapist or anything but it didn’t exactly feel pleasant or nice. But he brushed it off for now. He just hoped he could make Puzzles feel better in some way or another. Probably in a way that doesn’t end up with him getting more toxic goop on himself that made his skin burn. He didn’t realise it yesterday but Puzzles felt… acidic? Weird stuff.

After a walk that felt longer than it should, they got to the crew. Everyone seemed ready and  were waiting for them. Nobody really felt negative outwardly about this except for 4. Though, he seemed to hold back, with 3 close to him. Puzzles felt this wasn’t going to be the easiest time. 

They got into a bus they rented for this. At least Puzzles was told it was rented but who knows with these guys. Not that he was really that against a bit of crime but he would rather be aware if he was made an accomplice in something like that.

What made him think that was the fact that there was a driver inside but they didn’t look very happy about having to do this. In fact, they looked rather scared. Puzzles decided to push the thought aside as he ascended on the bus the best he could with his tall build.

He sat beside Mario, Luigi went to talk with the others. Puzzles sat by the window. Due to the length of his legs, he actually took up 2 seats and Mario was kind of sitting on his leg. Not that he needed to, there would’ve been space for him elsewhere. But it seemed Mario was visibly very stubborn about sitting with Puzzles. 4 was increasingly bothered by this. 3 grew tired of this at this point, talking with Meggy and Tari instead. 

It was quite the long trip, it was a few hours. It was long with the emotions it had to drag with itself. It felt like it was anchoring time down, intentionally making it harder for time to go on.

But they got there, relatively in good spirit. 4 was really bringing it down. In his obsession to protect Mario he didn’t even notice it was affecting the others as well. In fact, most of the trip, 3 was quietly talking about how annoying he was right now to Meggy and Tari. Listing the ways he had to pander to at least somewhat calm him down which soon stopped working. Though, he tried to be cool about it because he was worried too. He didn’t hate 4 for this, he knew it must be harder for him. But this was beginning to become a lot for him. As much as he loved him, with his whole heart, his mental state kind of reminded him of the perfect incident. It really scared him. Especially because what if something similar happened to him like then. With someone evil enough to take advantage of the situation. And make their life hell.

Regardless, they were there now, packing out to a rather large apartment type of building by the beach. It had enough rooms to house everyone. Luigi kindly asked to be in a different room from Mario and Puzzles, which left the crew questioning for a second. Regardless, he somehow ended up with Saiko and Melony.

They took out the guest bed for him. He put his stuff down neatly.

“So, how come you didn’t want to stay with Mario this time?” Saiko asked, suspicious of this. Melony was sitting on the bed while sorting out her suitcase to take her laptop out she brought for the trip. She was listening though.

“Ah well…” Luigi sighed, a bit annoyed.

“It can’t be that bad” 

“I’m pretty sure they had sex yesterday night”

That shocked both girls, even Melony looked up from the stuff she pulled up to sift through. She recently got into hacktivism to pass the time so it was related to that. Some kind of an article from someone she looked up to.

“Are- Are you sure??”

“Yeah. I kind of- heard them. I OBVIOUSLY didn’t want to” he sighed again. It wasn’t the fact that he found it weird or bad but it was still kind of mind boggling to think about. Especially because just before Mario was crying to him about crushing on Puzzles and now this? Things moved fast with these 2.

“Huh…” Saiko thought for a bit “I see it honestly”

“Mario did have that kind of glow to him” Melony commented which made both look at her weird.

“Nah, he actually burned his back with- whatever comes out of Puzzles’s screen. I don’t know how they did that and why but I don’t need to know”

“BURNED??” both girls yelled in unison. 

“Yeah. I actually had to treat it for him today so he could wear a shirt at least while we get here. It looked pretty rough”

“Mario and the things he gets into I swear” Saiko didn’t know whether to laugh or feel annoyed. Maybe a bit of both if she had to be honest.

“I just hope SMG4 doesn’t freak out too much if hears about this” Luigi thought out loud, concerned. Even scared for his brother.

“Why would he? It’s kind of none of his business” Melony said.

“He really seems to hate Puzzles. I don’t really get it but…”

“I’ve noticed” Saiko was annoyed too “Look, I get it, he was bad but there was a reason for that. Besides, he IS dating SMG3, he’s so unreasonable”

“I have a feeling he just wants to protect Mario but… I’m thinking he might have been doing the opposite…”

The 2 looked at him, at the brink of the worry rising in them. 

“Go on” Saiko said finally.

“I uh… woke up to a pool of blood in the kitchen. I don’t know how it got there… it… could be Mario’s…And there was no sign of struggle. Nothing knocked over or anything, just a single misplaced knife and a pool of blood… it led me to believe that he… he…”

They were looking at him shocked. Luigi finally broke down. The 2 girls scrambled to comfort him, Melony as much as she could with her laptop in her lap. They were just hoping the worst wouldn’t happen. Hopefully.

After a bit of time passed, they heard knocking at their door.

Turns out it was 4, he was gathering everyone to come down. 

The 3 tagged along, following him along with the others.

A big part of the crew was there, with the Mario brothers, the meme guardians, all 4, Melony, Saiko and Puzzles of course. Meggy and Tari decided to stay in their rooms for a bit. The bus driver seemed to vanish for some reason. As they went out they noticed Boopkins was already in there with Bob who had a bright pink donut pattern floaty. He also had those gaudy kind of sunglasses that were gold so it kind of balanced out.

Saiko slowly entered the water, helping Melony out while Mario quickly charged in the water, splashing people on the way. 4 ran after him, yelling about manners. There was something unsettling about his tone of voice but he didn’t say anything wrong. Yet it remained eerie regardless. Puzzles also silently wondered when 4 would mention Mario’s back. He was surprised he didn’t, maybe it was the reason his tone of voice felt so unsettling. Like he was expecting him to lash out again. BUT he knew 4 saw it, he saw that he saw it. And it was terrifying.

1 and 2 set up chairs and parasols so they could enjoy the beach without too much sun. They were also seemingly discussing important meme guardian business as they usually would. 

Puzzles decided to stay back, quietly, sitting just barely in the water. He didn’t want to interfere with 4 and Mario. His reaction to Mario’s back was already scary enough for him. Not even a word, just looking at him so deeply judgmentally. The thoughts reemerged, the idea that he really didn’t deserve any respect. That he deserved a life meant for loneliness and nothing else. Just like how he was before. It would probably be easier. If only Mario let him die instead, he wouldn’t need to be such a black sheep within such great people. He could have moved on from a painful life. He could’ve ended it there. it could’ve been so good.

“Oi, you don’t want to come in deeper?” 3 asked Puzzles, which shook him out of the awful thoughts.

“No… Don’t want to disturb Mar and SMG4 having fun. I think they deserve it”

3 sighed.

“You’re selfless for being lonely for so long. I would be so much more jealous”

“Jealous?”

“You obviously love him, no? I know the signs. Way too well”

Puzzles heated up at how easy he was to read.

“Oh dear… I didn’t know it was that obvious”

“So then? Don’t you just… want him by your side?”

“I… I don’t know if I deserve him” he got rather quiet.

“Blue is a dumbass, don’t let him tear you down”

“But is he really? I.. even hurt Mario”

“Hurt him?”

“Uh… Not important how”

3 stared at Puzzles. Puzzles stared back.

“Oh-.. kay but… really. I don’t get you”

“I made life harder for him. He had… an episode of sorts yesterday. He doesn’t take SMG4’s behavior well and it feels like it’s my fault… I mean if I was just… dead… he wouldn’t”

“Y’know, 4 and I cause each other problems all the time.”

“I think this is different”

“I used to try to terrorise him. We were some… awful people to each other. Worse than what you are for Mario. And we still got here. You know how?”

“No…”

“Love prevails… as much as I hated to admit it before”

“You think so?”

“Definitely. And because of you and that shitty piece of that damned box, I learned it very intimately”

“Sorry about that..”

“Thank you”

“You what now?”

“It might sound messed up but I needed that I think… We both needed it. I never realised before how stubborn 4 was actually about me. I never would’ve figured out if it didn’t get so bad. We might still be here, not dating but still painfully pining if it wasn’t for you”

“I assume you’re joking”

“No. We were a hopeless case” 3 laughed.

Puzzles reacted with chuckling as well.

“Well, I just hope I can somehow… convince 4 that I’m good enough for Mario”

“Way better way to think. I’m going in now, good luck”

3 left in, jumping on 4 and pushing him in the water with a swift and calculated move. Puzzles chuckled at the sight, especially as then they begin to playfully fight. 4 was way less freaky with a smile on his face, having fun. He almost wished that could be a sight that would look at him that way. Just a sliver of acceptance for him. 

He looked up at the sky, thinking stuff through. So many things he wanted to do. And number 1 on his list was to make 4 like him, whatever it would take. He felt like he was trying to achieve the approval of a protective father. While no, it was just his dear’s bestie.

He wondered how he could even do that. It definitely wouldn’t be him trying to show off with his skills. 4 would think he was shallow and maybe even think he was planning something worse secretly. If he poured his heart out, 4 probably wouldn’t listen either. Maybe Mario could put in a good word for him? Or the others, as much as they can. Convincing 4 that he wasn’t evil anymore was way more trouble than what his ideas could change. He sighed.

He suddenly jerked up at the sensation of someone poking his shoulder several times. It was Mario.

“What’s up, Mario?”

“You were sitting here, alone”

“I didn’t want to disturb your time with SMG4”

“Mario has space for everyone”

“SMG4 is questionable in that regard”

Mario could only sigh in response as he leaned onto Puzzles’s shoulder.

They spent time silently, it was maybe a bit too silent for Mario. It looked like he was out of energy.

“Say…” Puzzles started awkwardly after a while.

“Hm?”

“How’s… your back”

“It was totally worth it”

“That’s- That’s NOT what I asked”

“But that’s what Mario cares about”

“YOU… You’re so shameless” Puzzles couldn’t help but smile.

“Maybe. But you love Mario either way”

“I sure do”

They stayed in comfortable silence. 

Meggy and Tari finally arrived as well. Meggy had her hands behind her back, nothing suspicious. The grin on her face was definitely not suspicious as well.

She looked around, looking for the right victim to strike. She spotted the one least suspecting it: Bob, looking half asleep on his silly floaty. She aimed with precision champions would get jealous about. She then shot, water sprung out of her gun, hitting Bob just right, knocking off his glasses.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR??” he shouted, looking around for  the culprit.

Meggy and Tari were loudly laughing about this so it didn’t take a lot  for Bob to see them. 

“What, Bob? can’t handle a bit of water, eh?”

Bob didn’t reply verbally, instead he pulled out his mega deluxe golden water guns that matched his sunglasses he was so painfully separated from.

And from here, a war began as others brought out their guns too.

Puzzles panicked as he quickly got up and ran away, while Mario sadly got caught in the fight, he had no choice but to join in.

He found a place to hide, he was out of view by this large rock.

He sat down and tried his best to calm down. His circuits could’ve gotten damaged there badly. He didn’t want to think of the nightmare that would be fixing that kind of damage. He had to once and he still wasn’t sure if he fully recovered from it.

He just sat there, in the sand, still feeling the water dripping down on his lower limbs. The sand sticking to him felt uncomfortable but he could manage. 

He sighed, laying against the rock. His mind felt a little empty. He didn’t exactly expect to be left alone like this. Maybe it was just his brain playing tricks on him but he felt uneasy for some reason.

That reason turned out to come realy quick by. SMG4. Just the 2 of them. 

“AH!!” Puzzles got surprised by 4’s presence as he stared him down as he was good for nothing.

“I’ve got a few words for you” he said, it seemed he wouldn’t waste his time with useless small talk.

“Yeah?” Puzzles was scared.

“The bruise on his back was you, wasn’t it? What did you do to him?”

“I uh…” Puzzles got quickly nervous “You don’t need to know that”

One of 4’s eyes twitched. He was NOT happy.

“If I find out you’re controlling him this way, you’re dead”

“I’m not! I promise. I care about him too, okay? He hadn’t been doing well”

“Like I’d believe you. If you really aren’t controlling him you would tell how he got the bruise”

“I said you don’t want to know”

“It was clearly you”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know how”

“What could be worse than fucking mind control goop??”

“...Acidic…” Puzzles turned away, honestly thinking about it just made him heat up all over again.

“Acidic??” 4 was unsure what to think. He was trying to be mad but he was more lost on where this was going.

“And it… got on his back on accident… I didn’t mean to, we… got carried away” Puzzles tried to leave out the most important part.

“C…Carried away? With… WIth what?” 4 was left confused as he was trying to figure it out. But Puzzles wasn’t replying anymore, instead strongly trying to avoid eye contact with 4.

“Did…” it clicked for him “Holy fuck, Mr Puzzles, did you fuck my best friend??”

Puzzles grew visibly more nervous.

4 was left more confused if anything.

“I-  I don’t know what you’re planning with… all this you’re doing but you’ll NEVER convince me”

“I get that…”

“Blah blah I can’t hear your pitiful acting” 4 left, not listening to Puzzles’s words which actually were as sincere as they get.

“It’s okay…” Puzzles got up “I just wish you didn’t ruin stuff this way for other people” he said that last part under his breath, which 4 luckily didn’t end up hearing.

“You know, I really don’t get your deal” 4 said.

“I have no deal. I just wanna live again”

“That’s what they all say”

“Didn’t SMG3 have a similar thing”

“Unlike you, he wasn’t a parasite on other people”

“I… was invited”

“Maybe if you had a spine you would have declined”

Ouch.

“Maybe… It would be easier for you, would’t it? For the both of you. If I were just… out of the picture”

4 didn’t say anything. When it was said outloud like this it felt… different.

Puzzles continued.

“I want you to get one single thing through your head if it won’t be anything else” Puzzles said, glaring at 4 “You can believe I’m still a villain all you want, you can believe I want to hurt people all you want. But if you do this to the detriment of Mario’s mental health and constantly try to infantilize him with trying to ‘’’’’’’care’’’’’’’’’’’ for him, thinking you know so much better than everyone else, just know you’re annoying everyone else in the process. And hurting Mario more than you’ll ever realise.”

And with that, he left 4 dumbfounded. He wasn’t even sure how to react. This GUY trying to lecture him?? What the fuck did he know about life anyways??

He stomped off, far away from everyone as he went back inside. He didn’t want to see anyone then. He needed to see some funny memes. If they could even help him at this point.

Mario noticed this. He felt awful again. Even Puzzles joining back didn’t quite help.

Especially because 4 seemed to have left for good. The silence he left felt louder than anything.

“Dear, are you okay?” Puzzles finally asked him.

Mario couldn’t verbally respond without crying so he just shook his head.

“If… you’re worried about SMG4… I kind of talked to him.”

“Wh… What did you say to him?” Mario asked, though he did tear up in the process.

“Just… something he really needed to hear. A piece of my mind”

“You shouldn’t hurt him… he doesn’t deserve that”

“He WAS hurting you, no?” Puzzles grew a bit frustrated and spoke a bit louder, gaining their friends’ audience.

“Is this about 4?” 3 asked, stepping into it.

“I just.. I told him that he’s hurting Mario with his bullshit.”

“It’s- not-” 

“Yeah, it’s so easy to see! Mario looks miserable ever since 4 started being overprotective” Meggy chimed in.

Mario felt uneasy.

“Guys-”

“Yeah, you guys are right, even I’m upset about it” Luigi joined in after listening for a bit “I’m WELL aware”

“Please just-”

“I’m so sad he’s been causing so much trouble! If only we could all just get along” 

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP” Mario broke, scaring everyone.

“Oh, dear…? Are you…”

“You guys are being so mean about Mario’s BEST friend. Sure, he is an asshole but he’s MARIO’S asshole” he got up and left the group, aiming to search for 4, leaving everyone there stunned. Puzzles felt bad.

“I… really thought I was doing the right thing” Puzzles felt guilt wash him over.

“You tried” 3  pat him on his back.

“I just feel like I can’t make things right. Like things won’t ever be perfect”

“Well, with people like us around, it won’t be” 3 tried to be reassuring “but we can try to make it work, you know, love prevails”

“Aww, 3, didn’t know you were giving away advice like this now” Meggy giggled.

3 tried to shush her.

Puzzles smiled at the interaction.

“Is it bad if I need time to  figure out how I can make it work?”

“We’ll be here for you either way” Tari said, stepping beside him.

“Exactly! Cuz what else are friends for?” Luigi joined in.

“Aww you guys” Puzzles could melt “I’ll… really try my best!”

And he got wrapped in a brief group hug. Damn, did it feel nice to have friends!

Meanwhile, Mario was banging on SMG4’s room to no avail, screaming, crying for him to open up. 

“Please….. SMG4…….. This can’t go on… I know Puzzles was a bit mean to you but…. just please talk to me”

“Whatever you want to say you can say without opening the door” 4 said, quietly. It was hard to read his tone.

“I know you’re scared of Mario being tricked into an awful thing but he promises he’s not! If Mr Puzzles wasn’t actually nice he wouldn’t like him as much as he does! Mario knows you want to protect him but still- You shouldn’t feel so much burden over that! Mario doesn’t need you to worry” he was practically crying. He just wanted things to be okay so badly.

He sniffled there for a while.

“Hope you at least tried to understand me” he said, as if hope left him.

And then the world turned awfully quiet for 4. He thought for a while it was nothing. But that nothing really felt like something. As in that something bad could happen, and it could happen right under his nose without him doing anything. 

The anxiety rising in him after a few minutes got the best of him. He finally unlocked the door, even the unlocking felt painfully heavy and slow. He had not time for this shit.

“Mario?” he looked around, seeing no sight of the italian. He grew more worried as he called out again, receiving no response.

He went around in the rooms. He went to check all of them, he was in none of them. Although, something caught his eye about 1 and 2’s room. Something very important. But he wouldn’t go that far… right? Right? 

Okay, now he was REALLY worried as he barged out the door with force that could’ve broken it if it didn’t open so easily as he tried to find any clues where Mario could have gone. This was BAD.

Puzzles could feel it too. He excused himself as he went looking for Mario himself.

As he did, he found 4 first instead.

Puzzles glared at 4. 4 glared at Puzzles.

Time seemed to stop.

After glaring enough both sighed. Which made them look at each other with judgement all over again.

“We should stop this” Puzzles said, begrudgingly. He was holding it back but damn 4 didn’t do much to show he’s good to be around.

“You’re right” 4 sighed, defeated.

“Let’s just… try and find Mario”

“Yeah”

The 2 went on silently, which was the most peaceful they had been around each other.

“You know…” 4 started.

“This isn’t the time”

“I’m just worried over what he might be doing”

“He’s hurt, I know that”

“Duh, idiot”

Puzzles rolled his eyes.

“What do YOU know anyways?”

“He took the godbox piece”

“He did WHAT????”

“I… I noticed it wasn’t in SMG1 and 2’s room anywhere when I looked around to try and find him.”

“Oh my god…”

“Yeah I… god I feel so bad…”

“That’s the first step”

“YOU’ve got nerve”

“SMG4… I get it, you’re jealous, he told me he’d go over to sleep and even cuddle you. I’m… not trying to steal him away”

4 blushed at the mention of it.

“Me? Jealous? No… No I…”

“He IS your best friend so of course you care a lot. I… don’t blame you but you did go too far”

“... I just… can’t help being anxious I guess? It feels like anything can be out to get us at this point…”

“Look… SMG4. I’ll promise you something. I’ll let SMG1 and 2 do all the things and tests to confirm I have no ill will anymore, no godbox manipulation. Don’t you know how it feels? You… become… something else…”

“It’s… scary…”

“I’m sorry if I scared you too”

“Yeah…though, how do you know the fact that the godbox manipulated us before?”

“Sometimes… it’d whisper things. The piece had a faint voice”

“A… A voice??”

“Of course… It would tell me what to do and manipulate my senses to think I’m doing the right thing. It would also tell me some information I could use to my advantage. And sometimes it would utter words I couldn’t connect anywhere. Sometimes I wonder if… the piece itself went insane…”

“That’s… scary I’m… I’m sorry. For… everything these past few days I guess”

“I’ll only accept if you accept me too”

4 stared at Puzzles.

“Maybe after we save Mario from doing something stupid”

They walked for a while. The quiet wasn’t so uncomfortably tense anymore. Puzzles found 4 a lot more likable when he wasn’t swearing at him and staring daggers into him. As they walked they spotted Mario at a cliff, his back turned to them. His arms in front of him, holding the piece. He seemed lost in it.

“Mario!!” Puzzles shouted for him as he and 4 got closer and sped up.

Mario turned a bit too fast, slipping off the edge.

Puzzles and 4 jumped after him with not much thinking. Puzzles caught both of them, utilising his long arms. 4 was too busy fearing death to actually object against it. None of them wanted to die, so badly too. Like a sense of determination crossing across them like electricity, light engulfed all 3 of them, slowly slowing their fall and making them land safely. Though, they barely realised that with how bright and strong the light was. Puzzles noted it was stronger than when he kept Mario back last time. But it felt similar.

As they finally came back to their senses from such an adrenaline inducing fall, 4 picked Mario up, cheering he was saved. But Puzzles did too. And he was taller so with that 4 came too. 4 didn’t mind it much but it did feel weird being lifted up like this. While Mario was SO confused.

“I’m so glad we managed to save you” Puzzles expressed his happiness with words.

“Mario thought he’d die for good”

“Did you want to?” 4 asked.

Mario lowered his head, not answering. But then for a different reason as he looked in his hands, seeing what the piece had become. It went form the pit of darkness it had, turning blindingly bright but still somehow safe to look at. It also seemed to constantly shift in shape. The other 2 looked at it too, just as confused.

“Did we… do this?” Puzzles asked.

“Guess so” 4 replied.

Mario looked at one of them then the other.

“You 2 are not trying to kill each other anymore?”

“We… talked” 4 said “I’m sorry for how I acted, Mario… I really am”

“Mario knows”

“I’m also sorry. Lashing out wasn’t exactly the… best choice I made today”

“You both need therapy”

The 2 laughed.

“We’ll make it work. Somehow” Puzzles reassured Mario, finally putting both of them down.

“And we need to show 1 and 2 what happened to the piece. I don’t know whether they’ll be super excited about it or if they’ll be bummed out they can’t examine it further”

“Probably a bit of both”

“Mario’s…” Mario spoke up, changing the subject “MARIO’S SO HAPPY HIS FAVOURITE PEOPLE ARE GETTING ALONG” he was jumping with joy. It only just fully settled in then.

That was when the others got there.

“You guys are okay??” Meggy was running in the front.

“We were so worried!” Boopkins ran ahead, although he was trying to catch his breath.

“Sure are but” 4 pointed at the piece that changed in Mario’s hands. 

Everyone was shocked, 1 and 2 were in fact so shocked they both fell over. There was a lot to tell and the crew was sure shocked, especially at the fact that 4 and Puzzles talked it out. The piece went back to its rightful place and then they could finally have the few days they’d spend there be chiller. There were still problems but it wasn’t anything the crew couldn’t bear. One could say that they weren’t perfect but they still found integrity.

For now. You know the saying, nothing lasts forever! However for now, things are okay, which was what really mattered.

[into-deepspace]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day!

May I request for Rafayel's reaction when MC comes out as non-binary? It's something that's never left my head since I started playing lnds. I can't help but worry if it'd change things for him even though I know it won't (insecurity did a number on me🥹). What if MC wanted to present themes as masc/femme? How would he react?

Sorry if this is too long and complicated and I understand if you don't want to write for this but if you do write it it'd mean the world to me. Thank you for reading this ask🌸🌸

aaa of course!!! dw it wasn't long or complicated at all! i had a lot of fun writing this, and i rlly hope i did rafayel justice here <33 i feel like it ended awkwardly but ah what can u do. anywayyyy:

as you are

rafayel/mc • nonbinary mc • 1.6k • ao3 link requests open, reblogs appreciated! mild hurt/comfort || coming out || tooth-rotting fluff || established relationship

MC stares at themselves in the mirror fixing their hair nervously. In twenty minutes, they’re meeting Rafayel at a cafe, one of their favourites. They’d made the plans several days ago, and have been nervously thinking through every possibility ever since. After all, coming out, no matter who it’s to, is nerve wracking.

“I need to talk to you,” they’d sent him, late in the evening when both of them really should have been asleep. Despite the late hour, typing bubbles immediately popped up from Rafayel’s end. He sends a sticker of a distressed yellow bird, then a message.

Rafayel, 11:48 PM are u breaking up with me :(

A bit frantic, MC typed back a quick response. Of course Rafayel, ever dramatic, would assume the worst.

MC, 11:48 PM No omg?

Rafayel, 11:48 PM DUN SCARE ME LIKE THAT THEN???? Those are FIGHTING WORDS. fighting words i tell u!!

MC sighed, but couldn't help but laugh a bit. It was never a dull moment with him around, one of the things they have always loved about him. They explained that no, they're not breaking up with him, but they did have something a little more serious they needed to talk with him about.

Rafayel, 12:03 AM okayyyy spill the beans cutie wait no serious I Am Prepared To Listen To Your Words. Please Begin.

MC, 12:04 AM Actually, i wanted to talk in person Can we meet @ our usual cafe on saturday

They waited nervously for Rafayel's response, picking at a stray thread in their blanket. But as usual, they had nothing to worry about

Rafayel, 12:05 AM ofc ofc ill buy u a tea and a cake and we can talk <3

They couldn't help but smile at their phone. He was always so sweet, so ready to adjust and accommodate. They just hope he’ll be the same way about this new revelation.

Now, MC has been going by their chosen name for a long while, so long that most people don’t even know the name they were given at birth. They’ve always presented a little more [femme/masc] than their peers, and Rafayel didn’t seem to mind any of that. If anything, he encouraged it, saying that the way they expressed themselves was art in it of itself. But would this, their coming out, be a piece of the puzzle that he wasn’t okay with?

MC sighs, smoothing their clothes one last time and telling themselves that they really do need to get going. Sitting here and stewing in their anxieties isn’t going to make anything better. They grab their bike helmet and make their way down to the street, setting off.

An uneventful drive later, they arrive at the cafe and park, fixing their hair in their phone camera after they take their helmet off. It seems Rafayel hasn’t arrived yet, which means they can go in and order for themselves. Usually, they’re fine with Rafayel paying for their treats, but what if he’s upset this time? What if he realizes he’s spent money on someone he can’t accept.

Just as they’re pulling their card from their wallet to pay for their drink and pastry, an arm wraps around their waist and lips press against their cheek, startling them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rafayel says, tone light and joking as he slips their wallet from their hands, tucking it back into their pocket. Ignoring their protests, he turns to the person at the register. “Add a vanilla iced coffee to that please, with… hm, six sugars.” MC can only watch as his drink is added to the total and he slots his card into the reader, looking pleased with himself.

Rafayel takes their hand and walks them over to a table by the window, pulling out their chair for them with a dramatic flourish. Normally, MC would laugh at his antics, but they’re too nervous right now to manage anything more than a tight smile. Rafayel, of course, notices right away.

“What’s wrong, cutie?” he asks, taking their hands as he kneels in front of their chair. MC takes a shaky breath, trying to school their expression into something at least neutral.

“I’m okay,” they say. “I promise.” For a moment, Rafayel tilts his head and searches their face. Then, with a sigh, he stands, pressing a kiss to their knuckles as he does.

“Okay,” he smiles. “We’ll talk once you’ve got something tasty to keep you company, okay?” This prompts a smile, a little more real this time, from MC.

“Okay,” they whisper.

Ever the gentleman, Rafayel goes to retrieve their order, tasting his own drink before adding two more pumps of sugary syrup to it and sprinkling cinnamon across the top. He comes back to their table, setting MC’s portion in front of them. They taste their own drink and nod in satisfaction, cutting a piece of their pastry to place into their mouth.

“Do you want some?” they ask, offering a forkful to Rafayel. With an easy smile, he waves away their question.

“Nah,” he says. “This here is sweet enough.” He shakes his drink, the ice in it rattling as specks of cinnamon swirl around. MC nods, taking the bite for themselves.

They let themselves savor the moment for a bit before speaking. After all, they don’t know if this is something they’ll ever have again. They make their way about halfway through the pastry before they take another long sip of their drink and fold their hands in their lap.

“I have something I need to tell you,” they say, before they can lose their resolve. “...Please don’t be upset with me.” Rafayel smiles, reaching across the table with his palm up, gesturing for their hand. MC obliges, tangling their fingers together, and Rafayel squeezes reassuringly.

“I won’t be,” he promises. “You can tell me anything. I swear.”

MC takes a deep breath. They appreciate that he’s putting his usual jokes and quips aside, sensing the nervous gravity of the moment, but it almost makes them even more anxious. Biting their lip, MC decides it’s better to rip the metaphorical band-aid off in one go.

“I’m nonbinary,” they say simply. “And I’m sorry I’ve been keeping this from you.”

Rafayel blinks for a moment, silent. MC feels their eyes sting.

“What?”

“Uh.” Out of all the scenarios they’d mentally prepared for, this wasn’t one of them. “You know,” they begin, “like, I’m not a guy, but I’m also not a girl. It’s-”

“No, I know what nonbinary means, silly,” Rafayel grins. “Why would you ever think I’d be upset at you over this?” MC feels the sting in their eyes become welling moisture, and Rafayel scrambles to drag his chair around to their side of the table and pull them into a tight embrace.

“I thought you were gonna tell me that you were moving away, or that you lost your job or something!” he says, rocking them back and forth, gently, slowly. With a shaky breath, MC tucks their face into Rafayel’s shoulder, smiling to themselves. But he’s not done, continuing as he pulls them tighter.

“And if you come to me tomorrow and say you feel some other way, or that you want to change your name or buy new clothes or change your hair, that’s okay! MC, I love you no matter what. I promise, something like this is never ever going to come between me and you.” They’re full on sobbing now, the relief that comes with acceptance and the lovely promises spilling from Rafayel’s lips making all sorts of emotions surge in their chest.

Rafayel pulls back, cupping their face with one hand and wiping their tears away with the other. He smiles, a radiant and loving thing, and MC can’t help but give a breathy, relieved laugh as he leans in to place light little kisses along their cheeks.

“I don’t know why I was so nervous,” MC admits. “You never did anything to make me worried about this.” Rafayel shrugs.

“It’s a big thing to tell someone,” he says. “I’m proud of you. I know this took a lot.”

“It really did,” MC acknowledges. Rafayel ruffles their hair affectionately before scooting his chair back over to his side, keeping one of MC’s hands in his own.

“Okay, okay,” he says, buzzing with energy now that the serious moment is waning. “Finish your pastry and then we can go shopping.” MC blinks, surprised.

“We weren’t planning on going-”

“Uh-uh!” Rafayel cuts in, waving a hand in their face and startling a laugh from them. “Shhhh, we’re going shopping. You wanna go buy pretty things with me soooo bad. You would never think of saying no to this lovely face of mine.”

“Oh, my god,” MC laughs, nearly dropping their fork. “You’re so dramatic.” In response, Rafayel gives a pleased smile and makes a motion as if flicking hair behind his shoulder. MC shakes their head good naturedly, taking another bite of their pastry.

They do, in fact, end up out in the shops, and Rayafel buys them a jacket they’ve been eyeing for a long while. The two of them swing their intertwined hands between them as they walk, enjoying each others’ presence. It’s late in the evening by the time they decide to part ways, and even then, Rafayel convinces MC to sleep over at his house.

A couple hours later, laying in bed, MC watches Rafayel’s sleeping face with a soft smile. They never thought they’d be lucky enough for a relationship like this.

[amoritasart]

William as the lost Wittebane brother AU 🤪 some doodles

William is the youngest. He is very clingy and always wants to impress his big brothers, specially Philip who occasionally remembers he hates him for taking his spot as the baby.™️

[mydr3aminvi0let]

i wear a lot of skirts and pink and whatnot as my style has developed with me & my personality but when one of those age regression girlies latch onto me....i do not like that

[delicatetaysversion]

dni.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Yandere!Vampire that was once royalty, living in a dilapidated castle, alone and depressed. As a human, he was surrounded by people. Everyone adored him, his golden curls and warm brown eyes charming the hearts of every noble that set eyes on him.

That was until his family was slaughtered by a coven of vampires, leaving him the only survivor. Now with no family, he was turned away from the nobles that once gathered at his side, calling him beautiful and intelligent. Now he was a beast, and was only left alive because no one dared to touch him.

As the years passed by, all that knew of his existence died out, meaning no one remembered or cared for him. In the past, he had at least been grateful he had been in someone’s thoughts, even if it was in a negative light. Now, no one even hated him. He was just nonexistent to the world outside his castle.

Centuries passed by, every day slowly picking at the last bits of his sanity. Days of past grandeur and the current day mixed together, leaving him in a state where he couldn’t tell whether he was back in the living arms of his family, or wandering the dark, crumbling hallways of his childhood home.

It was only when a soft, warm light flooded one of the abandoned rooms he had been standing in that the fog in his brain began to fade, allowing him to see what was in front of him for the first time in decades.

It was you, a young woman in a hoodie and jeans, holding a flashlight. You lived only a mile away, and had been exploring when you came upon ruins of what seemed like an ancient castle.

You had heard rumors of a person that wandered the ruins from the townsfolk, and old tales of vampires that had been passed down by tongue for centuries. Not believing them, you decided to see for yourself…

Your light shone upon what you first thought was an ethereal ghost or some kind of beautiful spirit. A man with a mop of blonde curls, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes you’ve ever seen stared back at you.

The person attempted to speak, but clutched his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in so long, his vocal cords had forgotten how.

“H-hello?”

The man perked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes clearing up. It seemed just hearing another human speak made his undead heart leap, and he couldn’t help but stumble towards you.

You yelped when he crossed the room within seconds and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply.

The smell of another person, of sweat and perfume mixing together to make your own unique scent made him want to sob.

Of course you were freaked out, but the man holding onto you wasn’t hurting you, and you could feel warm tears soaking through your shirt. How could you turn away someone that was obviously in distress?

Unsurprisingly, the man followed you home. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t human. He was as pale as a sheet of paper, with no pulse or any color to his cheeks. His eyes were scarlet, a shade you had never seen a human have before.

Despite knowing this, you couldn’t help but care for him. He was thin, malnourished, with clothing that was so old and dirty that it nearly crumbled when he took them off.

“Are you hungry?”

You had taken to asking only yes or no questions, since he couldn’t speak. The man frowned, his eyes getting foggy for a second. You decided to ask again.

“Hello? Are you-“

He suddenly snapped back into reality, leaning forward to gently place his lips on your neck. You squeaked out in surprise when you felt his teeth sink into your neck… but it didn’t hurt. Instead, you only felt an uncomfortable pressure and draining sensation, and before long he was pulling back.

“Mmph…” he panted softly, blood running down his chin. “Was… so… thirsty…” he managed to say, his voice hoarse and small.

He cupped your cheek, holding your face in his hands and looking down at you with what could only be described as utter adoration.

“My love…”

From that point on, he was attached to your hip, following you everywhere you went like a lovesick puppy. Any time you were separated, he had severe anxiety, going back and forth from his dreamworld and reality. It was his coping mechanism, but it caused him to never understand what was real and what wasn’t.

You grounded him, made him feel safe and loved. Oh how he adored you. You had saved him from his lonely existence and taken him into your home as if he were a stray dog, and he was loyal like one. His loyalty came at a price, however, and that price was your freedom to do as you pleased.

Late nights out with friends became next to nonexistent, especially if he knew there would be any males there.

“I just want to protect you, my beloved. It’s a dangerous, cruel world. People will act as if they love you when they do not…”

And as you slowly became more and more isolated, his affections only grew. Kisses to your hand began to trail up your arm and to your neck. Snuggles turned into grinding and heavy petting, and even the most innocent of caresses became lewd in nature.

It didn’t take long for him to fuck you for the first time. After all, he had been pent up and alone for centuries, resisting taking you on the spot was excruciating.

The second he sunk into your pussy, he came. You were just so warm and your scent made his head fuzzy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you like a wild animal, feeding from your pretty neck as he filled you up over and over.

After the first time, a day didn’t pass by when he didn’t crave your intimate touch. Some days he was satisfied with heavy petting and kisses, others he couldn’t be satiated until his face was between your legs, lapping at your cunt for hours.

You were his, his mate, his lover. He couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore, so could you really blame him when he clung to you so tightly?

He just loved you, and he did such a good job at keeping you satisfied, just enough to where you didn’t look into the missing cases of your old lovers and male friends.

Why would you need to pay attention to any of that when your loving, attentive boyfriend was right there, ready to worship you from head to toe?

[tteokdoroki]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he only desires you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the very secret made you feel dirty and used. 

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

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

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

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

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

like right now.

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

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

“about me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“did you miss me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

how he wanted to own every part of you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“maybe, if you’re lucky.” 

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

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

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

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

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

how can you say no.

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” 

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

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

“so you’ve said, ‘toru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

knock, knock, knock.

“hey little one, i’m home!” 

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

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

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

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

“hey, little one? it’s me, suguru..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“o-oh sugu, you shouldn’t have!”

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

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

his best friend. 

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

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

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

“i know, suguru.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

they all share the shade of a baby powder blue. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hiding his presence from suguru. 

“hi ‘toru.”

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

“i almost told sugu about us today.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

be someone that you deserve. 

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

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

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

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

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

“i want… i want you too.” 

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

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

except gojo isn’t drunk. 

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

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

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

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

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

the girl he might actually love, after all. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru gojo has always been afraid of love. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

how could a man like him make anyone happy? 

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

no one except for… 

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

no one except for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

there’s suguru too.

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

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

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

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

the both of you were better off without him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his driver, reassuring him once again. 

“it’s okay, satoru. just breathe.” 

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

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

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

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

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

satoru gojo is not as brave as he thought. 

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

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

except this isn’t just dinner. 

this is make or break. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“since when did you smoke, satoru?”

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

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

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

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

like you, his sister? 

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

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

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

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

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

a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit.

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

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

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

the very notion scares satoru. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru is such a coward. 

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

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

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

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

they share a familiar, all knowing smile. 

“yeah, satoru. let’s do this.” 

without even knowing, that everything is about to change.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

her efforts do nothing to help calm you down. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he can’t help it, you’re beautiful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

if only you weren’t such a coward. 

if only he weren’t so afraid.

if only…

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

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

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

if only suguru wasn’t your older brother. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sugu what are you—!”

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

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

“suguru, we’ve hardly ordered anything!” 

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

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

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

“a toast to you, my little sister.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“satoru.”

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

“suguru.” 

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

you wish. that would be an ideal world. 

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

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

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

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

“i hadn’t even noticed.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“mom! oh my god!” 

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

“sugu, not you too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you okay, little one?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh!

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru chokes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

why did you even suggest this? 

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

you wanted to be his girlfriend. 

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

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

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

the burn of underlying guilt.

“i can help with that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s selfish and both of you know that.

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

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

but isn’t that what you want? 

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

how you might fail to live without him? 

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

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

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

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

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

“say that again.” you moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

one. two. three. 

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

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

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

he quickly abandons his joint.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

because all you feel is ecstasy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but satoru has always had a way about charming you. 

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

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

“can i ride you?” you ask him hazily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

warm, cherished and cared for. 

just like suguru would want you to be. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

suguru geto was not an idiot. 

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

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

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

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

suguru geto was not stupid.

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

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

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

another soul he’s grown up with. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you can’t. you’d never…

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

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

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

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

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

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

pet like a dog getting a treat.

a reward for taking care of you all these years.

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

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

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

“does anybody want to order dessert?”

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

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

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

“daifuku!” 

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

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

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

suguru geto was not a fool.

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

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

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

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

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

it all hits him like a truck.

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

“suguru what are you—?”

“you fucked her. didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

onlookers in the restaurant are no different. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i said how long!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck you right back, geto.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“suguru! s-stop it!” you cry. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

he sounds like he’s about to cry.

“i know.” 

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

“i know.” 

“you’re five years older than her!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you like to think that you know suguru geto. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“suguru— your sister!”

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

“suguru please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

some grateful little sister you are.

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

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

wait… that’s not true.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“a-are you leaving?” 

“for a little while.”

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

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

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

“sugu, please don’t go.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and with that, he’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

things that suguru had helped you to achieve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s true. he is. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

if it was only a touch, why did it ruin him?

juices and thick waves of cum that had once coated your throbbing cunt now slosh over your dresser that dully thuds against your bedroom wall — over and over again the faster gojo’s hips pound into yours. the sound of skin on skin overwhelms all of your senses, you’re stimulated beyond belief and you’re crying from multiple places…it’s almost too much for your poor ravaged body to handle. 

“i’ll n-never stop…fuuuck baby, as long as i’ve got you. ‘m never stoppin’…never stoppin’… n-never—“ your man chants, crying into your mouth and the hot lustful buzzing hair between you when grab his ass so that he can fuck you deeper. the slit at his cockhead is overloaded with viscous precum, smearing it along your inner and gushing ribbed walls — claiming your insides for the second time that night. 

your hips run from the pleasure that you crave and that satoru gives to you — cross eyed and panting from above you like a wet dog. there’s no need for him to run from you though, you won’t let him, not when he needs to be loved by you. someone who cares for satoru gojo despite all of his mistakes.  

a creamy ring begins to form at the base of satoru’s swelling cock, all white and frothy from where he’s been churning your guts up lovingly — pounding his earlier orgasm inside of you as if to make it stick. your clit grinds against his smooth pelvis, dragging you by the ankle to another world-altering orgasm and his balls slap wetly against the curve of your fleshy ass. 

satoru adjusts your body against the dresser so that the curve of your spine rests on the table and he’s able to hike your legs over his shoulders so he can bully that one special spot only he can reach. your knees meet your chest, breasts bouncing beneath them from the force of the white haired man’s chest. “g-god, you’re…you’re fucking me too good,” you gargle, hands in his sweaty mass of silver hair as you tug gojo implausibly closer. “i wanna cum…are you there? c-can i cum, ‘toru?”

pressing his forehead to yours, satoru nods feverishly. “right behind you, baby. where do you want it?” there’s a fluid roll to your man’s hips, his cock dipping in and out of your fluttering entrance so fast and so good that you’re sure you’re about to lose consciousness. “how about inside? how ‘bout you lemme leave somethin’ with you?” clear, thick strings tie your clenching pussy to satoru’s cum glazed shaft — glistening under the night’s natural light. you can’t wait for there to be more of him inside you. “touch your clit for me baby, make yourself cum on my dick.” 

you do as your told, fumbling between your salt-licked entangled limbs for the little nub between your swollen folds. immediately pressing down on it, you find yourself tightening around gojo while he grinds harshly against your g-spot and moans breathily against your Cupid’s bow since your foreheads are still pressed together. 

“s-sa…satoru! ‘m…i’m cumming!” one look at him, completely destroyed by you, is all it takes to send you flying to cloud nine — your stomach lurches and your eyes roll back into the dark depths of your skull as you cum one more time for your lover. clear streams of your essence squirt steadily from your cunt, bathing satoru in your orgasm while you succumb to overstimulation. 

his tummy and thighs are doused in your precious liquid as you quietly scream his name — all of these senses serve to trigger his own orgasm. “c’mon, that’s it little one. give it to me, i gotcha. want it all over me,” gojo smirks against your lips, peppering them with soft kisses while he wrecks and bullies your insides in an attempt to cum himself. “oooh, fuck. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

just like he promised, satoru gives you another hot load — failing to stop fucking you through either of your highs. he loses control of his hips, allowing them to languidly and uncoordinatedly rut into you — pushing his seed further up your silken walls until your cunt is covered in a layer of white. there’s so much of it that white drips his balls and inner thighs, as well as down to your puckered asshole. maybe it’s a little crude if him, but satoru’s lengthy fingers gather what you leak and smears it against your lips — kissing you there, sucking your mixed flavours from your eager mouth.

it’s only while you calm down from your orgasms that things start to change…drastically. 

even as satoru kisses your hairline and whispers praises against it, rocking you back and forth as you twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm — the fear comes rushing back. 

the post-orgasmic clarity hits.

the tears start flowing once more and you realise that you’re so, so tired of it all.

yellow and artificial light from down the hall seeps through the gap underneath your door, accompanied by footsteps. you’ve no doubt that someone in your home is awake, maybe your mum going for her late night glass of water, your dad for the loo or maybe even suguru. for his flight. the light is glaring and illuminates your room — highlighting the night’s mistake. satoru. 

when the footsteps recede and the light dims down, you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding — your silent tears blooming into quiet hiccups that you have no control over. “h-hey,” he cups your face, wiping at your eyes just like your brother had done before shutting you out. “hey pretty girl, what’s the matter? did i hurt you? was that too much—?”

slicing through gojo’s words, you find the strength to speak even if it hurts to reveal the truth. it’s like ripping off a bandaid, “how do i know that you really mean all this? that you’re going to keep your promise, ‘toru?”

“w-what?” 

“i can’t do this!” you snap as loudly as your voice will allow you to. you don’t want to wake anyone else up nor get caught by your brother with your pants down for the man who betrayed his trust. not to mention, nearly getting him to hate you. “you promised to take care of me. just like suguru would, while we were basically having sex — how am i supposed to trust that?” it sounds crazy coming from your mouth, doubting satoru even after the intimate moments that you’ve just shared. however, you’ve been around this block with him too many times, you know the signs off by heart, you’ve memorised the cracks in his resolve as if they’re those in the pavement. the ones people tell you not to step on to avoid bad luck. 

you feel unlucky, you feel played and naive. you saw all the warnings and wilfully ignored them because you liked the way satoru loved before he knew the weight of the word. “how am i supposed to trust you?” you add, voice wavering.

satoru can’t seem to find an excuse — maybe because his brain is too fucked out or maybe because he’s shocked that you’re not just blindly trusting him anymore. he always thought things would be easy with you, that this nightmare would be over quick… and you’d take him back just like that. perhaps the dinner was your wake up call. “i don’t… i don’t know, i just…” he selfishly expects you to believe him. “you know me. you love me and i love you, can’t that be enough?” 

“you’ve never given me enough, satoru! it’s only now that you’re realising you want me as more than just your… your plaything! when i’m all you have left and suguru is gone with the wind!” you want to push him away but satoru is rooted in front of you, his presence sturdy unlike before. “you say that you love me, and i think i believe it…but it’s so hard to trust you. to not think that this is just an impulse.” 

“i’d wanna be with you even if suguru stayed, i always do. it kills me to be away from you!” satoru fires back, scrambling for something…anything that’ll make you see just how badly he means it when he says he loves you and wants you. that it’s not because he’s afraid of being alone. “i fucked this up, with you and with suguru. but i’ve known for a long time that i’ve wanted you, needed you to be mine and more than just a fling!” 

you look away, face twisting with pain. “i…i don’t believe that.” 

“then let me prove it,” the words rush right out of gojo’s mouth, faster than his brain can catch up — his anxiety spiking at the thought of you abandoning what you have together. abandoning him. “move in with me, come with me. i’ll get us a place in the city where your new job is, i’ll get my dad to transfer me to a closer branch of Gojo Corp… just let me show you how much i want to make this work — even if it means losing suguru.” 

satoru grabs your chin and tilts your gaze back over to him — but you can’t even look him in the eye. 

instead, your face burns, hot as your vision swims with another wave of tears. “i need your honesty, satoru. no more empty promises, no more false hopes.” he can see it in you now, how exhausted you are with the game of cat and mouse you’ve been playing all this time. you just want to be loved without constraint and satoru comes with so much baggage he’ll only weigh you down when you try to fly from the nest. it wouldn’t be fair. “i need you to choose. would you really give it all up for me? your reputation, your lifestyle, your best friend?” 

satoru’s wants to be selfish, desperately so. it’s all he’s ever known. taking and taking until his partner at the time is nothing but a husk of the person they once were. the difference this time is that he actually loves you, cares for you and would kill for you. he’s already taken so much from your youthful bright eyes. 

he would hate to take your spark too.

so satoru gojo decides to weigh up his options. 

either lose it all and keep you as his or lose you while the wounds he’s inflicted on everyone else heal. 

if you love someone, then let them go. if they come back to you, they’re yours. 

“then… then i’m sorry. for not being more honest. you’re right in every sense of the word…i can’t give this up,” gojo says simply, watching the light and hope in your eyes die out. “i think it’s best if we end it here and i let you go.” 

so reddit, AITA? 

UPDATE - AITA (27M) FOR FUCKING MY BEST FRIEND'S (26M) LITTLE SISTER (22F)? hey reddit. long time no see, i got a lot of attention on this post and undoubtedly you all decided that i was the asshole. i’ve done some work on myself and now i see that i was 100% in the wrong. i’ll spare you the boring details, because i know that’s not what you’re here for. i didn't want to leave anyone hanging, so here’s a quick update on where the three of us are at, one year later. i’ll start by saying — we broke up. i made the call so now she’s seeing someone else, and it’s serious. 

in another lifetime, satoru would have chosen to be with you. 

he’s certain that in another wonderfully weird and wacky universe — nothing would have stopped you from being that happy couple you wanted to be so badly. suguru might have even accepted your relationship, or maybe he would have died and his final wish would have been for the white haired man to make you happy. 

that is something satoru will never know. the idea comforts him whenever he’s left alone with his thoughts for a little too long.

however, this isn’t another lifetime. this isn’t a different universe. this is the reality where satoru gojo had broken up with you right after your graduation. 

he did it so that he wouldn’t come off as selfish — so that you had a chance to fix things with his ex best friend (and your brother) before it was too late. it was the least he could do after taking advantage of you, corrupting you against all of suguru’s wishes — but that didn’t make gojo any better of a man nor a knight in shining armour. he was still a shifty guy. 

still selfish, though, the decision was made with satoru still in mind. 

the night he’d broken up with you obviously ended in tears. to you, it was the end of your life — losing your first love, and you couldn’t even be blamed. you were only twenty two, your reaction was justified. suguru had been right in that sense, you were innocent and your heart needed to be protected, satoru had definitely taken advantage of that. 

you were kind enough to let your then ex stay the night — as long as he was back in the hospital and gone by the morning. satoru never knew what transpired the next day, as you were quick to block him on everything, and you had every right. 

he made his choice and his bed, now he had to lie in it too.

geto did leave, gojo knows that much, having seen his best friend take up work at a law firm in the US. geto had since been low contact with him. as did the rest of your family. again, it was for the best — even if it did hurt and cause gojo to bury himself within his father’s company, working himself to the bone every day just as a distraction.

through the grapevine of CEOs and higher ups, satoru learns that you’ve followed in your brother’s footsteps and made your way over to the land of the free. the magazine you worked for, Heavenly Pact, was getting ready to start an american edition and word had travelled that you were going to be the head of their new office on that side of the pond. gojo was proud, excited for you — you were excelling in your career all on your own, he was glad that he hadn’t ruined that for you too.

being in the states from time to time, satoru often wondered if there would ever be a time where he ran into you. would you be happy to see him? would you even want to talk? what would he even say?

‘i’m sorry for fucking you for fun and fumbling the bag — almost destroying your relationship with your brother when i caught feelings’ wouldn’t exactly fly well with you, he was sure.

it didn’t end up mattering anyways, because when gojo does eventually bump into you during business hours — he almost doesn’t recognise you. he’s in New York for some big, fancy corporate meeting about mergers and acquisitions, whatever his father had put into the file gojo was skim reading on his phone at the last minute, right before making his way up to the conference room. 

the elevator taking him there stood about six floors shy of satoru’s destination and a young woman enters like a hurricane — bringing with her a whirlwind of paperwork and notebooks. “i-i’m sorry.” the young woman stutters from behind her pile of belongings, out of breath from seemingly running for the elevator. “could you press the button for my floor? i would do it myself, but…” 

there’s a strain in her voice that makes gojo chuckle to himself, reaching past her so that his fingertips brush over the cool and luminous buttons for each floor. “are you going up?” 

“down actually… you?” 

“up ‘m afraid, but headed to the top floor. so this elevator’s probably going to head straight down to wherever you need to be afterwards.” he offers up apologetically. he swears the tonation to her voice sounds familiar, it’s soft and sugarcoated notes stirring up a warm feeling in gojo’s tummy.

“that’s fine by me, i’m running ahead of schedule anyway. floor eleven for me, please.” 

gojo does as he’s told, pressing the button for the eleventh floor — he has to reach past the woman in order to do so. his vigilant blue eyes catch a glimpse of the fashion photography stacked in her arms amongst sketches and other designs while the scent of her perfume strikes a dizzying recognition within the white haired man. undertones of vanilla with subtle floral scents make gojo’s stomach turn and light bulb memories of those precious two years flash behind tired cerulean eyes. 

he knows you, he thinks, all too well.

he says your name under his breath as though he’s keeping a secret and you freeze — no longer sorting through the papers flying about the place. when you look up and your eyes meet, you feel like the world has stopped spinning and that it’s just the two of you, frozen in time.

“satoru,” you breathe and quite plainly, as if you’re holding back any emotion you feel towards your ex…but then you smile, and it’s so vibrant satoru feels like he might go blind. not a trace of resentment in those big, beautiful brown eyes. “it’s been a while.” 

you’ve changed a lot in only a year. while your face still holds its youthful innocence, except your eyes reflect growth and maturity — perhaps a little bit of exhaustion from how hard you’ve been working on your new job. you’re still as beautiful as the day gojo left you, but perhaps even more so. your light  glows instead of dulls, most likely because you’re free. he’s no longer holding you back with a jail sentence of his selfishness. you’ve been able to live your life properly, just as someone your age should. 

it would be wrong for him to interfere with your newfound happiness.

turning on his heel, satoru faces forward and avoids your gaze — continually repeating the mantra ‘she’d be better off without you.’ to stop himself from reaching out and touching you like he so desperately wants to. he misses you, that much is a fact, but that doesn’t mean he no longer craves to be with you, breathe you in, be by our side.

satoru had let you go three-hundred and sixty-five days ago with the hopes of you coming back to him.  

maybe this was it.

you don’t take kindly to being ignored, leaning forward with your papers and files tucked securely against your chest in order to garner his attention. satoru adjusts his dress shirt, plays with his cuffs, inspects his surroundings — anything to avoid you and make a fool out of himself. or worse, mess everything up for you. his therapist had called his previous and past behaviours a self-destructive tornado — destroying everything in its path without regard.

he couldn’t go back to that.

“gojo, don’t pretend like i don’t exist,” you pout in annoyance — reminding your ex all too much of the times you spent together at your dorms. “i see you and you see me. we’re adults, surely you can handle a conversation.” it’s your teasing tone that finally makes gojo cave, sparing you a starry, blue eyed glance. 

he can’t help the cocky chuckle that escapes him, almost slipping back into his old and familiar ways with you. “you wanna talk to me that bad, huh? did you miss me or somethin’?” it’s a condescending and patronising thing to say — almost as if he’s treating you like a child. 

that makes you stand up right, heat rising to your cheeks at the familiar feeling — you’re not mad though. “i see you’re still as full of yourself as ever.” 

it’s satoru’s turn to pout this time, shifting his focus to a corner of the rising elevator . “h-hey! i’m working on it!” you’ve never seen him so nervous, not in your entire life of knowing him…but you suppose a lot can change in a year. you’re sure he’s different, just like you are. “yanno…therapy ‘n stuff. it helps. helped.” 

“oh yeah?” you hum curiously, knowing that he’s making reference to your break up, losing suguru. you don’t dare to press further, though. “me too.” the pair of you fall silent for a moment, sitting with the unaddressed awkwardness, the tension and unresolved feelings. “how…how are you? how’s things?” 

he’s surprised that you’ve even asked, let alone want to talk to him after everything he’d put you through. it’s weird but also clear that you’d been working on healing too — what’s a conversation between two adults then? “good,” satoru starts, though he’s being far from honest. he misses you. “i’ve been working to finally take over dad’s company. old man’s retiring, so i thought i’d play my part and be responsible for once.” 

you grin warmly at the news. “it sounds like you’re doing well, toru.” he nearly jumps at the familiar nickname, choosing not to respond. “not that you asked, but i’m kind of in the same boat? they’re putting me at a deputy manager’s position for my magazine’s new branch. i’m excited.”

“i’ve heard,” the words rush from satoru’s mouth before he can stop them, feeling sheepish as you raise a brow at him. “not that i’ve been stalking you or anything! you hear things when you’re at the top!” 

“yeah, sure.” you tease, enjoying watching gojo squirm.

a question he’s not sure he’s allowed to ask sits on the tip of his tongue and satoru pushes it around in his mouth hesitantly. “how…how’s suguru?”

you perk up, tentatively choosing what to say next. “o-oh…he’s good? we’re…our relationship is better now. it took a lot of work, but he’s healthy and happy. i… i think he misses you sometimes but, he’s still not ready yet.” 

gojo nods once and chooses not to press about his ex best friend further. “and how are you?” 

“m-me? i thought we’d just went over that—“

your ex turns to face you fully, a pleading look on his face that shocks you out of your casual stance. you can still see how much he adores you and cares for you, as if it never left his nature to want the best for you. 

“are you happy?” 

he asks the loaded question like it’s easy to answer and you do have to think about it. are you happy? you’ve been putting in the work to feel like that again, after breaking it off with satoru you were low. almost rock bottom. it was your first ever break up and it hit hard — not to mention you didn’t have your older brother to fall back on at the time. you knew it was time to stop depending on others, it was time to grow your own spine. you took to therapy, you learned your triggers and icks and red flags. it took time and patience with yourself, but here you were, a year later and a little happier than when you saw satoru last. 

“yeah,” you confirm with a shy nod, taking interest in your feet while you hide your smile. “i’m happy. with myself, my work and my partner—“ 

partner? 

“—you’re dating someone?” gojo quips as the elevator dings for the floor just before his. 

“ahh yes! it’s still new but… he makes me happy. yuuta okkotsu, you might have seen him around? i hear his family’s company and yours have done some work together.” you seem bashful as you talk about yuuta, someone you met through work, someone your age. a sense of pride in being together taking over you. you show him off and boast about him in a way that you wished gojo would have done for you. 

the revelation nearly kills satoru — it’s like a bullet to the chest or a knife to his heart. envy bleeds from the open wound, pours down his front and taints his blood stream. it fucking hurts to know that you’ve moved on to someone who treats you better than he ever could…but you deserve it. you were so good to him and to the world that it would seem like a crime for you to end up with someone who didn’t love and appreciate you in the ways that they should. 

that doesn’t make him feel any better though, it makes him feel as though he might die. 

when the elevator reaches the gojo’s floor  — he falters in stepping out without saying goodbye or replying to you. he would be doing it to hurt you, and to be spiteful or petty. just like back then. 

there’s still so much that he wants to say to you — so many things he wants to fix but he can’t shake the feeling that this was it. this was closure for the both of you. 

as he exits, he whirls around with enough time to spare before the doors close on you, and this chapter of both of your lives — just catching your bewildered expression. “thank you, for everything,” gojo calls to you fondly, watching your previous expressions morph into something soft and appreciative. “i…i really did love you, and if i could go back and do those two years over again. i’d be better, for you. i’d love you, properly.” 

the doors to the elevator slowly begin to close and satoru steps forward at the same time as you — it feels like you’re sharing one last goodbye. 

“i know,” you say without a trace of malice, a wistfulness in your voice. “i’m thankful to have been with you, because you taught me so much in such little time. i’d do it again, if we were better.”

a sad smile tugs at the corner’s of gojo’s pink lips. “in another life?”

“in another life.” you confirm, mirroring his smile as the elevator finally seals itself shut — leaving him with his reflection on it’s cool, metal doors.

it’s a shame that you only have one life, and that there aren’t any do overs. that way, everyone could live a life without regret — because gojo has his regrets, where he wishes that he loved you better, harder, more…so that you’d come back to him and you would be his.

 always.

so redditors and other losers lurking on this thread. that’s my update. i already know a lot of you are going to say that i deserve this — and i do. but i’m happy for her, for both of them and i wish them both all the best. whaddya say, am i still the asshole? 

END.

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