#that was meant to be under a read more the first time

[janaispunk]

strawberry sugar

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~1.8k

summary: Your boyfriend spoils you on your birthday morning. In some... unexpected ways. :)

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, food play, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), ridiculous amounts of fluff

meant as a follow-up to delicate, but can be read as a standalone!

a/n: written for @iamasaddie's kinky writing challenge with the prompt food play for oberyn martell. it's already june 1st where i live, so here we go!

thank you @northernbluess & @luxurychristmaspudding for screaming about this with me, i love you <3

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!

“Good morning, princess.”

The touch of soft lips kisses your closed eyelids, your nose, your cheeks and finally your mouth, gently stirring you awake. You hum quietly, contentedly, snuggling closer into your boyfriend’s warm arms around you. 

“Hi,” you smile, your breath ghosting against his lips, before you connect them with yours once more. 

It’s almost as if you’re still dreaming, enveloped by soft sheets and Oberyn’s warm embrace, the golden morning light flooding the room when you finally open your eyes. He’s already looking at you, your favorite crooked grin playing around the corners of his mouth. The dimple on his cheek is especially pronounced like this, making your heart flutter even after waking up next to him on most mornings for months now. 

“Happy birthday,” he purrs, one hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb gently caressing the soft apple of your cheek. 

Your own grin widens and you lean into his touch. “Thank you,” you say breathily, like speaking too loud might shatter the quiet peacefulness of the moment. 

He kisses you again, lips moving against yours, giving you one swipe of his tongue against your bottom one before he pulls back, chuckling at the way you’re following to chase his touch.

“You stay right here,” he orders you gently as he swings his feet down to the ground and stands up, carefully covering you with the duvet that got ruffled with his movements. “Make yourself comfortable and I will be right back, yeah?” 

You nod silently, your smile beaming by now. You watch his retreating figure, only wearing his black boxers, leaving most of his body bare on display for you. Cords of muscle are moving under his golden skin, the sunbeams falling through your windows are catching in his dark hair, still ruffled from the night’s sleep, and you’re mesmerized. You always are when it comes to him. 

You hear his movements in the kitchen, the fridge and cabinets opening and closing, the clatter of something, and smile to yourself. When he had asked what you wanted for your birthday weeks ago, breakfast in bed had been your first response. 

Sinking deeper into the sheets again, you grab your phone, reading a couple of messages congratulating you, laughing at the photo of your childhood self that your mom had sent you. A sweet scent wafts from the kitchen into the bedroom and your mouth waters. 

Oberyn returns with a bowl of strawberries, another bowl of whipped cream and a stack of waffles, with a single burning candle on top of it. You giggle at the sight, scooching into a sitting position and helping him place the food on top of the covers. 

He lifts the plate with the waffles to your face and, winking at you, tells you to make a wish. You close your eyes, the image of his face still vivid behind your lids, and blow out the flame. As soon as he sets it back down, you pull him in for another kiss. 

“This is perfect. Already the best birthday ever. Thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you, my sun.” The endearment falls so easily from his lips, like he has no idea that it sends your heart soaring every time he says it. 

He holds a strawberry to your lips, his eyes glued to your face as you take a bite. When you playfully nip at his fingers, the deep rumble of his laugh makes a home straight in your chest, filling you with warmth. 

You watch him eat, watch his plush lips close around the fruit, his teeth sinking into it. His appreciative low hum at the taste in combination with the sight in front of you has you pressing your thighs together, your need for him always simmering just below the surface.

This must be what perfection is like, you think, looking around the room, taking in all the peacefulness that’s surrounding you right now. It’s almost overflowing, this love that you have for the man in front of you. And somehow, inexplicably, he loves you just as much. 

When Oberyn’s teeth dig into another strawberry, he catches your gaze, must see the heat behind your eyes. He winks at you, deliberately slowly biting into the fruity flesh, licking his lips afterwards without ever dropping the eye contact with you. 

“Are you full already?” he asks, a cocky smile playing around his lips.

“Not quite,” you tell him, eyes innocently widened. “But I got really hungry for something else just now.” 

“Yeah?” he chuckles, pushing the food further away and reaching for you instead. 

You meet him eagerly, pressing your lips to his hungrily. His hands are everywhere, spanning wide over your body, leaving a burning trail over your skin and pressing into your flesh so deliciously that you’re already breathing soft moans into his mouth. 

His fingers slide under the shirt of his that you’re sleeping in, trail over the lace of your underwear until he’s right between your thighs. The fabric is already drenched there, clinging to your heated skin. He growls at your obvious arousal, licks deeper into your mouth while his fingers trace the shape of you over your panties. 

He sits back, watches you with dark eyes as you blink up at him, breathless and pleading. You pull the shirt off of your body, baring yourself for him, hungry for the expression that you see on his face every time he lays eyes on you like this. 

“My pretty girl,” he muses, still lazily stroking his fingers over your underwear, not swayed by your desperate whine. 

He picks up one of the strawberries, dips it into the bowl of whipped cream and brings it up to your lips, watches with rapt attention when your mouth obediently closes around the fruit. It leaves bits of cream behind, and he’s on you in a heartbeat, kisses the mess away and licks deep into your mouth. You love when he pounces on you like this, his movements all gracefulness and unrestrained strength. 

“You taste so sweet,” he whispers into your neck, nipping at the skin there. 

You wiggle underneath him, trying to reach for a berry yourself, wanting to kiss the taste off his mouth as well. He stops you before you can dip it into the cream, one hand wrapping around your wrist, easily dwarfing it. 

“I have a better idea,” he grins, all teeth, and a feral glint in his eyes. “Going to taste even sweeter.” 

You watch in stunned silence as he finally peels your panties off of you and down your legs, then swirls two fingers through your wetness and sucks them into his mouth. 

“So much sweeter.” 

He easily plucks the fruit from your hand and moves closer to you, your legs easily parting wider around his broad frame. You whine his name, the realization of what he’s about to do slowly dawning on you. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the mere thought.  

Oberyn leans over you, drinking in your every reaction as he pinches the strawberry between two fingers and slowly trails it down your body. You shudder at the unfamiliar texture when he reaches your nipples, circling the hardened nubs and chuckling at your responding moan.

“Does it feel good?” he asks, wide smile on his face.

“So good,” you breathe, arching your back trying to get more friction, “please, Oberyn.” 

With a hum, he stops playing with your breasts and continues moving downwards. When he finally reaches your cunt, you’re dripping for him, wetness spread over your skin. He moves the strawberry through your folds with ease, eyes glimmering and glued to what he’s doing. You could almost come from the sight of his ravenous expression alone. 

He brings it up to your face again, showing you the red fruit coated in your slick. Holding your gaze, his teeth dig into it. You moan at the sight, one hand tangling in his hair to hold him close, pulling him into you once more. 

“It is even sweeter than I thought, princess.” 

You crash your lips against his, your tongue licking into his mouth with the need to share this with him, to taste what he tasted. It is sweet, mixed with the tangy hints of yourself. He pulls back much too soon, mischief dancing on his features. 

“Let me get you your own one,” he purrs, already reaching for the bowl again. “As a present, hm?” 

You watch with wide eyes as he goes straight for your pussy this time, dragging a second berry through your wetness, nudging at your entrance and bumping against your clit. A high pitched whine leaves you at that, and he arches an eyebrow at you, a smirk growing on his face. 

“I wonder…” He trails off, swipes the strawberry over your clit again, more purposeful this time. 

You're helplessly aroused, your hips twitching at his ministrations. He steals another kiss from your lips, before he sinks down between your legs, nipping at the soft skin of your upper thighs. 

Another kiss straight to your clit, a swipe of his tongue, until it’s replaced by the foreign fruity texture again, rubbing against you with calculated movements now. His tongue laps at your entrance instead, drinking up your arousal, before he fucks it straight into you. 

Your hips almost lift off of the mattress, a cry of pleasure falling from your lips, and you grab his head with both hands, fingers sinking into the dark strands of his hair. 

“Fuck,” you whine, almost overwhelmed with the sensations and white hot pleasure coursing through your veins. “Right there, please Oberyn, I’m so close–” 

His responding groan sends rippling vibrations through you, pushing you right to the edge within seconds. It swirls around you, the scratch of his beard against your skin, the wild glint in his eyes at your every moan, so obviously relishing in giving you pleasure, the movement against your clit, his tongue right where you need him – taking hold of you and sending you flying. You come with a shuddering cry, clenching around his tongue and flooding his mouth with your orgasm, as stars burst behind your eyelids and full bliss overtakes your body. 

Oberyn works you through it, not letting up until you’re weakly trembling underneath him, tugging at his hair once more. His face swims into view in front of you, a brilliant smile grazing his features. It’s sinful, the way his pupils are blown so wide his eyes are almost black and your arousal is sticking to his beard. You want to kiss and lick it off of him. 

Instead, the taste of fruit and yourself floods your mouth once more, as he brings the berry, covered in your orgasm, up to your lips. You share it with him, tongues and limbs tangled together.

“I love you,” you sigh happily, wrapping your arms and legs around him, ready to let him consume you entirely.

thank you for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are love and mean the world to me <3

[liliththeimp]

Nap time (fem! Reader, NSFW)

Guess whos ovulating!!

Me, it’s me. I’m ovulating. I’m the horn ball.

im in the mood to repost a chapter from my AO3 like an idiot cause I’m dry and i forgot i even write it

(Also inadvertently called him Simon instead of ghost n i didnt proof read it, so if ghost is hiding in there, ignore his ass)

cw: p-in-v, sleepy sex, cock warming, somnophilia

——————

there was something so tranquil about nap time, the late afternoon sun peeking through the windows to cast a soft glow across your body,  tangled in the sheets with your shirt hiked up your abdomen and legs tangles in the blanket.

something that felt so secure and safe in the supple mattress that made Simon feel so comfortable with you.

he had his mask off, now that you two have been together long enough- you were able to catch him without his mask off every so often and today was one of those days.

Simon had come home from work, tired and hot and grumpy, and you were there to greet him with open arms and bath time, and after scrubbing away the day laying in your small form, he had take you to bed. Simon haphazardly dressed in pure sweats without boxers, to collapse onto the pillowy comforter with you, who also had a lack of underwear and clad in nothing but his borrowed t-shirt, curled under his arm and fast asleep like a doll.

Eventually, simon stirred, seeing how peaceful and cute you looked while you slept understanding that to have someone so willing to fall asleep around him meant you trusted him, and that meant everything.

he gave a slight stretch, rolling over to see your exposed skin glowing from the subtle sunlight and it send a slight wave of blush to his cheeks, washing his ears in a pink tint.

Not only that, but he woke up with an erection, of course.

Simon groaned quietly, because you looked so peaceful, he didnt want to wake you. He wanted to be comforting, not sexual in the slightest- but oh god, how cute you looked, how easy he could take you in this moment and to see you wake up moaning his name first thing had made him hard all over again.

he rolled over, wanting to quickly fix the situation before you woke up and realized he was gone, maybe retreat to the bathroom? His mind had wondered hurriedly until it hit him.

you had mentioned (very shyly, knowing how odd it must have been to ask such a request of Simon,) that if he ever felt comfortable, he could fuck you while you slept- which was also another leap of trust he was amazed you gave him- and you’d let him do anything to you while you slept.

Cue his cock twitching against his sweats again.

He fell back onto the pillow next to you, looking to your form again and he held a hand out, inching slowly towards your hip to stroke from your waist to your thigh, and you didnt move- you stayed silent with soft breaths leaving your parted lips.

he pressed a bit harder, looking to you to gauge how much force he can give without waking you up, and you only slightly stirred from the impact, another soft breath leaving you as you tilted your head in your sleep.

Simon pulled his hand back, palming his cock through his sweats and quietly whining as he rested a head against your shoulder, moving you closer to spoon him so he could grind into your ass.

He gave a slight hiss, holding your hips as he felt you arch your back in your sleep, feeling your bare heat against his cock made him jerk his hips forward, right in between your thighs.

slowly, his hips piston in between your thighs, feeling how subconsciously wet you became for him, letting breathy whimpers leave your lips in your sleep; but still unaware all the same.

his hand moved from your hip to hike up your shirt further to reveal your breasts, kneading it a bit as he thrusted again, biting his lip as he groaned quietly.

Simon decided that, to edge himself out, he toyed with your body a bit more. his hand slid from your breast down to your clit, slowly circling his digit around as he moved his mouth to softly lap at your nipple.

The feeling you bucking your hips unconsciously made his lips quirk upwards in a cheeky grin, moving his hand behind your ass to fumble with the waist band of his sweats, pumping his shaft for some release before slowly toying at your sick folds with his tip.

A hitched sigh left him as he felt you contract around his length, pushing ever so gently to not wake you, but the tightness forced a grunt to leave him and he gently moved his full length inside.

Upon finally reaching your cervix, he heard you moan in your sleep, soon adjusting your head to press further into the pillow while your hips rolled against him in your sleepy state.

Simon smiled again, dragging his member back out and forcing back in with a controlled thrust, only jerking his hips slowly to earn those soft whimpers that left your lips.

Moving just a bit faster, he mewled into the crook of your neck, purring from your unconscious contractions around him, feeling the way you still got effortlessly wet for him. It enough to make him want to live in this moment forever, with his cock buried deep inside of you to feel the bulge from your belly with every rut.

Simon continued to work his way into you, grunting and moaning at every drag against your plush velvet walls enclosing him with need. His hands held your hips back against him, moving your hips for you like you were some toy for him. His cock twitched deep inside of you at the expense of his release, letting out an exasperated but quiet grunt from his climax and slurred a curse into his breath.

You let out a sigh of your own satisfaction, the sudden aggressive jerk pulling you into consciousness, yet still sleepy and halfway aware, with the only feeling of bliss closing in on you while his hands pawed into your hips to set you even further on his cock

“S…imon,” You simpered through a quiet breath, looking over your shoulder as Simon tilted his head towards you with a smile, pecking your lips as he stayed buried inside of you with his arms tightly draped around you.

“Don’t mind me, love…just go back to sleep.”

———

yooo hoped you liked it boo, ik its kinda short and a bit bad but idrc.

requests are also welcomed with open arms (and open legs,) so if you want go ahead n comment I’ll write for you lol <3

[faithfulren]

tent troubles

hi everyonee!! i just wanted to thank you for 50 likes, its a start and it truly means the world to me. i'm so glad you guys like my stuff and i deeply appreciate it, and i hope you guys continue to support me! :) <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the forest, class 1-A set up camp. laughter and chatter filled the air as everyone pitched in, erecting tents and preparing for a night under the stars. you were excited, the prospect of camping with your friends bringing a smile to your face. that smile, however, faded when you realized you were paired with katsuki bakugo.

you and bakugo had always had a irregular relationship. his fiery temper and your headstrong nature often clashed, leading to more arguments than you cared to count. but aizawa-sensei, in his infinite wisdom, had decided that this trip was the perfect opportunity for you two to learn to work together.

"just stay out of my way," bakugo grumbled, dropping the tent supplies at your feet. he was already annoyed, and you knew better than to poke the bear.

"sure, bakugo," you replied, trying to keep the peace. you bent down to pick up the tent poles, but he snatched them away before you could grab them.

"i said stay out of my way," he repeated, more forcefully this time. you bit back a retort and stepped back, crossing your arms as you watched him struggle with the poles.

minutes passed in tense silence. bakugo was clearly having trouble setting up the tent, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to ask for help. finally, with a frustrated growl, he threw the poles to the ground.

"do you want help now?" you asked, unable to keep the smugness out of your voice.

"shut up and just… help me," he muttered, glaring at you.

together, you managed to get the tent set up, though not without several more snide comments and glares from bakugo. by the time it was finished, the sky had turned a deep indigo, and the first stars were beginning to appear.

you sat down by the campfire, feeling exhausted but somewhat accomplished. bakugo sat across from you, his scowl softened slightly by the firelight. the others were busy roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories, the atmosphere light and cheerful.

"here," bakugo said suddenly, holding out a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow. you blinked in surprise.

"uh, thanks," you said, taking the marshmallow from him. It was uncharacteristically kind of him, and you couldn't help but wonder what had prompted the gesture.

"don't read too much into it," he snapped, looking away. "i just didn't want to hear you whining about not having one."

"sure, bakugo," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

the night wore on, and eventually, everyone headed back to their tents. you crawled into your sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable on the uneven ground. bakugo was already lying down, his back to you.

for a while, you lay in silence, listening to the sounds of the forest. You were almost asleep when you heard bakugo's voice, quiet and hesitant.

"why don't you hate me?"

you turned to face him, confused. "..what?"

"i said, why don't you hate me?" he repeated, louder this time. "i’m always yelling at you, and you never fight back.. why?"

you thought about it for a moment. "because I know there's more to you than just your temper. you're a good person, bakugo, even if you don't always show it."

he was silent for a long time. then, just as you were beginning to think he wouldn't respond, he spoke again.

"thanks," he said softly, almost too softly for you to hear. "and… sorry.. i guess."

it was a small apology, but coming from Bakugo, it meant a lot. you smiled in the darkness, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the campfire.

"goodnight, bakugo," you whispered, closing your eyes.

"goodnight," he replied, his voice gentler than you'd ever heard it.

and for the first time since you'd started at UA, you fell asleep feeling like maybe, just maybe, you and bakugo could be friends after all.

[ayacokeandpepsi]

Sun kissed - chapter 1

Cw: reader is tan, mentions of feeling good about your body, implied that dialogue is in Japanese, reader is from Chicago, fluff

Lemme know if you guys want me to continue this!!

The first time he saw you was at a beach in Okinawa. It was a sunny day, only a few dozen people on the beach at that time. But you, you stood out, not just for your tan skin and semi revealing bikini, but because of a certain aura about you. You were glowing, your hair a little blonde in some areas from being in the sun, your cheeks a bit pink form being sun kissed and your freckles more visible.

You wanted to get away from the usual trashy and dirty beaches of Chicago for once, having never really been able to go on a vacation most of your life.

You usually never travel solo, which is why you decided to meet a friend who lived in Okinawa, but spent most days at the beach just enjoying the sun by yourself, and you didn’t mind.

You had never seen water so clear and blue, the sand so white. The little stands along the shore had coconut drinks and red bean mochi, which you sometimes indulged in while reading a book under your umbrella.

The constant exercise of swimming made you look and feel better, and you were proud of your body.

Just like every other day, you decided to stop by a convenience store to get some coffee/soda before riding a rental bike to the beach.

Your tan lines were so prominent, having many bikinis with different styles. You dipped in the cool saltwater to your mid waist level for a few minutes before going back to your little towel and umbrella, although you must have swam farther away than you thought, having to run down the beach to your little spot.

While you were making your way, you noticed a boy not familiar. He was slim and tall, you could tell by his long limbs. He was less tan than you, probably not being in the sun you thought. His shades blocked his eyes, but framed his sharp features handsomely. He had black hair with an undercut and dark blonde highlights at the tips. He had 3 ear piercings on each of his ears, flattering him well. He was dressed in what looked like expensive chrome hearts swim shorts and a few beaded bracelets.

You looked away quickly, not wanting to be rude as you continued jogging to your umbrella, you could feel his gaze still on you, which you would be lying if you said you weren’t flattered.

The boy was a few hundred feet or so from you, shades by a small umbrella drinking something alcoholic. Another man was next to him, shorter with longer black hair half up in a pony tail. They were both handsome.

You sank to your knees when you got to your umbrella, tucking your hair behind your ear as you leaned over to get your water bottle. You felt the boy trying to watch you thinking you didn’t look, and smiled at him when you made eye contact. He quickly looked away in embarrassment. It was hot, and you were feeling more sexy, so you poured the water above your head and flung your head back, enjoying the non sticky cool water as it went down your body.

You looked back at the boy again to see him with his mouth open, shamelessly staring before looking away before you could see him. You giggled to yourself, as his face grew red.

The boy next to him left to go for a swim, leaving him alone. You suddenly got brave and brought another water and walked up to him, your hips swaying and your wet hair dangling in your face as you moved it out of your face and tipped your head back slightly.

You approached him calmly but nervously. You held out your water to him. “Are you thirsty?” You giggle. He seemed to short circuit, his jaw dropping as he just stared at you. He looked down to your water and then sighed of disappointment/relief. “Oh, water, haha no I’m fine,” you chuckle

“What did you think I meant?” You tease. “Wha-nothing I um yeah,” he awkwardly sputtered out. You kneeled infront of him, digging your knees into the cool sand. He sat up straighter and took off his shades. He really was handsome. “So, do you come here often?” You say, looking out at the water.

“Oh, no not really, I just got the chance to while I’m here, what about you?” He says coolly. “Me? Same, I’ve been coming here almost everyday for the last month, since I’m just visiting.” You say as you look at him, smiling.

“Your Japanese is really good,” he says in English to you. “I didn’t expect you to know English,” you say. “It’s still shit, I’ve been learning so I can talk with the locals here and stuff,” you explain. He might have been already smitten. A foreign girl, with such charisma and confidence, and so sexy, was he dreaming?

“What’s your name?” He questions, giving you a small smile.

[nurse-sainz]

PEGGING RHETT PEGGING THAT BOY (shush you have no idea who this is you don't know me and we definitely haven't talked about this)

TOTALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHO THIS IS?? WHAAAAT? This man FUCKS and we both know it.

Ride a Cowboy

Warnings: This is pure filth. Absolute total porn with 0 plot. Please don't read if you're under 18 or if this shit grosses you out.

After seeing Rhett riding his bull, you want to show him just how proud you are of him...

You always got a little hot under the collar when you watched Rhett ride. The Stetson on his head, the way his biceps tensed in that tight shirt and he clung onto the bull. He’d just completed another successful ride and you were the first person he looked for in the crowd. You ran down to him, practically colliding with him as he wrapped his arms around you and placed his Stetson on your head. You knew what that meant. Knew that he was always in the mood after a good ride and knew that that night was going to be spent in each other's arms. Little did he know that you had something planned for him to show exactly how proud you were of him for that ride. 

Later that night, Rhett found himself naked beneath the sheets with you straddling him. Your hands roamed over the muscles of his chest, softly tracing the lines of his bull rider tattoo. 

“Gonna show you just how proud I am of you baby,” you whispered. 

That elicited a moan from his lips, his cock twitching in anticipation, “fuck, yes,” he breathed, completely and utterly surrendering to you. You leaned in closer, biting his ear before whispering, “I love seeing you like this, knowing I’m the reason you’re all worked up.” Your hand trails lower, beneath the sheets teasing his entrance. “So beautiful for me baby,” you murmur, causing Rhett to let out a moan. 

With slow and deliberate movements, your fingers worked him open. You let out a smile as you feel him pushing back against you, desperate for more, “please…” 

“That’s it baby,” you encourage, “take what you need. Tonight is all about you.” 

Finally you knew you’d worked him up enough and you positioned yourself to tease his hole with the tip of the strap on. With a gentle thrust, you entered him, your eyes locked on his as he squeezed them shut and let out a low groan you could feel rumbling deep within his chest. 

“Fuck…” he let out at the pressure and fullness of you inside him. 

You started to rock gently back and forth, slowly building up to a quicker pace as your hips snapped against his. You fucked him good and hard, getting pleasure from his moans and how gorgeous he looked sweaty and worked up beneath you. 

“You like that baby?” you teased, knowing he was close by the way his rock hard cock slapped against his stomach with each thrust from you. “So pretty. Such a good boy taking my cock like this.” 

You altered the angle slightly, reaching for that sweet spot inside him. You knew you’d found it when he let out a cry of pleasure, “fuck, there! Right there. Don’t stop,” he begged. His voice cracked as he let out more expletives, completely undone. 

You knew a few more thrusts and he’d be done. You grab his cock, your hands stroking him in time with your thrusts as you utter the words he’s been waiting for, “come for me, baby.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice as he came harder than he’d done in a long time, letting out a hoarse cry as he split all over himself. His body shook uncontrollably beneath you and his ass clenched around your strap on. 

Your thrusts slowed as you gently pulled out, earning a whimper from him and discarded the strap on, feeling your own needs. You lean in and capture his mouth with your own. Rhett, ever attuned to your needs flipped you over in one easy move and was between your legs before you could catch your breath. “My turn…” 

With practiced skill and driven by his own arousal, he licked and sucked at your sensitive clit, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you closer to his lips. You let out a cry of your own as his tongue skilfully glided over your sensitive area. It didn’t take long before you were chasing your own orgasm.  

You fell back against the pillow, glistening with sweat as Rhett joined you. It was gross and sticky and you knew you both needed a shower but for now you were content to catch your breath and have Rhett hold you against him, whispering how much he loved you into your hair.

[makeitagood0neao3]

Weather Me To Nothing (4/4)

Pairing: Dark!Paul Atreides x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4,597

Summary: Reader is the heir to the throne with an impossible choice to make. Torn between protecting her sisters and finding her way in the universe, will she make the right choice?

Warnings: Dark!Paul Atreides. 18+ only! Explicit sexual content. Arranged Marriage. Non con. See tags for more.

A/N: The last chapter. This fic has been in process for 2+ years. Thank you for reading. Shout out to Sleep Token for the lyrics <3 So flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothing. Wash away the blood on my hands.

You follow Dr. Kynes down the expansive halls, the walls lined with people on either side. They touch your arms and shoulders as you pass by, their hands are warm and gentle as they whisper after you. Praying, maybe. So many bright blue eyes in a sea of brown sand and shadows. You can barely feel the soles of your shoes touch the ground as you follow. It’s not nearly as hot down here as on the dune. You wonder if these people were driven down here from the invasions or if this was always part of their lives.

Why are you here, again? The memories are fuzzy, the dry air on Arrakis has worn through you. The air is heavy with spice and you feel like it’s eroding you away.

Oh. The ceremony. That’s right. To the prophet who promised to bring the Freman to paradise. The vial. The dreaded vial.

Fingertips streak over your arms as you follow behind Dr. Kynes in the shadows. Light touches grazing your skin like you are something precious. You are deep beneath the surface, with thousands of Paul Atreides’ devoted followers. There is no way you could poison him and escape with your life.

Rounding a corner, the hall opens up to a larger one. More people line the walls, children too. Their tiny hands reaching out for you, smiles on their faces.

Shaking your head, your neck feels stiff as you take deep breaths to calm yourself. It’s just the spice and the stress of the task before you. You can do this. You must do this. Galactic chaos would erupt if you were to fail. No, you’ve been tasked to keep the balance, to ensure the unity of the great houses under Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino.

Unity.

Paul.

You still feel heavy, the sand carving into you, but for the first time since landing on Arrakis, you can think clearly. The fog around your head has lifted and you wonder if your eyes are finally spice blue.

What if Paul’s death didn’t satisfy the Emperor? Would he have you executed? You hadn’t considered that before. As your father’s least favorite child, the first time he sent you to Arrakis under the supervision of the Harkonnen, he told you to enjoy your time here, that it would be the last planet you ever saw. You thought he sent you here to banish you, believed Vladimir himself would throw you out into worm territory. Is this plan to tie up a loose end?

You cannot allow yourself to think that. Cannot allow yourself to give into the unknown. The spice and heat have made you paranoid. The goosebumps on your flesh rise, peaking your attention. You look into eyes of those praying and suddenly wonder if they are praying over you as Paul’s wife or praying he kills you. How many Freman have died due to your father’s command? Do you detect deceit in their faces?

The Emperor is all knowing. How? The Bene Gesserit, of course. The Reverend Mother has been in his ear his entire life. Did they see this future? Why were you tasked with this and not Irulan?

She’s too valuable.

The thought rocks into you from your back, causing you to stumble forward, missing a step. You right yourself quickly, but feel the dread pressing down around you. What if you were never meant to succeed? If this plan were to fail the Freman, or Paul himself, would kill you. This version of the future unfolds in front of you.

The Emperor would lose a beloved daughter, distraught, he would order the execution of the Freman and the great houses would give their support. Feyd, the grieving lover, would be free to use whatever force necessary to eradicate every sietch. He’d have Sardaukar at his disposal and the hand of any sister, including Irulan. Worse still, he’d one day inherit the throne.

Had you been set up to fail? Is that why Feyd let you go with Paul so easily? Feyd is vicious, but he is not playing the same game as the Emperor. No, he would be protected against a Truthsayer’s questioning. He is impulsive and the possibility of having you is too close to jeopardize. He is incapable of playing the long game. His uncle, however, is what you would expect this from as well.

Your chest constricts, throat suddenly dry. There is no way out of this. Perhaps you can bargain with Paul, appeal to him to help you. Help you... What? Overthrow your father? Endanger your sister’s lives? The Freman don’t have anything to appeal to the great houses. They all depend on spice for their own addictions. The elite do not give up their freedoms easily.

Two doors dozens of feet high open as you approach, leading you out into the sands as the sun finally sets in the distance. You continue to make your way through the crowd as it opens up for you. Hands no longer grazing your skin, but held out in front of you in prayer, in offering. It takes a while to reach the middle, but when you do, Paul is standing there, waiting for you.

His dark curly hair on full display though brushed back from his face, wearing loose cream colored pants and tunic. His bright eyes find yours and you can’t help but think he looks ethereal, pure even. He trusted the Emperor to give him a fair deal and instead welcomed betrayal into his world.

Paul’s mother appears out of nowhere, emerging like a ghost before you, shocking you that she is alive. Her face is tattooed, her eyes strikingly blue. What catches your breath in your throat, is her pregnant belly. A second Atreides child?

Your Freman escorts flank off, becoming one with the crowd. Dr. Kynes leaves you in the center. You look up to see Paul reaching an outstretched hand towards you. He looks so much like his father and you are reminded again that you were too late. Too late to save the Duke and too late see this plan for what it was.

A stray tear falls down your cheek as you take his hand. You look around, the world spinning as every follower drops to their knees. Every person in this group showing so much devotion to him, you’re surprised when you feel his thumb wipe the tear from your cheek.

“Do not waste something so valuable, even for me.” He says, voice light. You hold both his hands in yours, steadying yourself. This young Duke has a gentleness you’ve never experienced before. He has shown you nothing but trust and kindness. You, on the other hand, have done nothing but plot his demise. You’re undeserving especially after the Freman have had every chance to harm you today and they haven’t been anything but welcoming.

Your final decision attaches itself to your bones, to the very morals you stand on.

You will not do it. You can’t do it.

Paul may not have much power outside of the Freman, but you do. Perhaps you and Paul have the same enemy. You can message the other houses and tell them of the Emperor’s plot. The Harkonnen’s involvement. Arrakis could be free.

The thought makes you smile, lifts your spirits and weight off of your shoulders. You will tell Paul everything after the ceremony and come up with a new plan.

You look into his eyes and feel the warmth of belonging. Could you belong here? Paul’s gaze on you is assessing, he’s reading you. Can he see your thoughts, the quality of your soul? There is goodness in you, you’ve proven that by not going through with this murder plot.

Lady Jessica steps closer and begins to speak in Chakobsa. The hand of the moon is high, bathing the desert in moonlight. She looks to you, slowly repeating the phrases you need to say before turning to Paul to do the same, his eyes locked on yours. His Chakobsa is much smoother than yours, something you’ll need to learn.

After his final words echo off the group, he pulls you in, his lips connecting with yours. The moment surprises you, the dread from the days leading up to this are gone and replaced with an airiness and future alight with possibility.

Suddenly, dozens of women begin dancing and chanting. The dune comes alive with their voices, echoing in the breeze. You and Paul stay in the circle as the followers sing and mingle. His mother disappears into the crowd, Paul reassures you that you will see her tomorrow. You have so many questions for her and it seems that maybe, just maybe, there is hope for the Atreides family.

After a time, Paul secures his hand on yours and pulls you through the crowd back towards the doors. Hands are still grazing your arms and shoulders as you pass, Paul leading the way forward. Once inside, you are pulled in the direction of the room you first entered earlier that day. Were you a different person then? Perhaps the same, merely lost.

He opens the door and pulls you inside, closing it swiftly. He surprises you by pushing you against the door. He’s firm, but relatively gentle as he pulls your headdress off and lets it drop to the floor. He’s leaning over you, his eyes intent on yours. There’s a prism of spice in the air around you both, you can see it glittering off of his hair, his tan skin. He brings his nose and mouth to the curve of your neck. Your breath hitches every so softly.

“The Emperor has blessed me with a beautiful woman.” He says it like a relief. His hand caresses your hip, giving it a light squeeze before it travels upward to carve out the shape of your body so softly you can barely feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of the dress.

“A beautiful bride,” he says, his voice low and deeper than it was moments ago. Paul let’s his hand rise to caress your throat. Your breath is shallow, a fainter than the ringing in your ears. He pulls his head back up from your neck and lowers himself just a fraction closer, his eyes drawing yours in.

“A beautiful assassin,” he says, his voice heavy with grief. The slow nod of his head makes you gasp. You’re snapped out of the moment.

“Paul-“ You begin to defend yourself before his hand at your throat constricts, his fingers digging in. You attempt to grab his hand before his voice bangs through you, a rattling Stop that forces you to drop your hands to your sides. Paul is fuming, his face red, his eyes ablaze.

He used the Voice on you. It was like hearing a distant voice draw you in before a louder, stronger voice echoes through your body. Your mind didn’t even realize it had happened until it was over. Only Bene Gesserit were trained to do that. How could a man, regardless of prophecy, obtain such power? Power that could threaten the empire.

You manage to squeak out ‘please’ before he releases your neck. He steps back, flexing his hand, before looking at the palm like he may find a branding there. You cough and try to breathe deep through the wheezing.

“Paul, you don’t understand,” you say, your voice doesn’t really sound like your own. “I decided not to do it.”

“Not until the very last moment. I saw it in your eyes.” He sneers, but seems to be trying to keep his distance from you. You thought a marriage to Feyd would be vicious. Paul, however, seems to be more volatile. For all of his shows of violence towards servants and slaves, Feyd has never shown you aggression like this. It permeates the air and for the first time since entering the sietch, you wish for your guards. “It must have been an easy choice, to murder a Duke and go back to your life as a Princess.” He makes it sound like you’re looking down on him, but you’ve never thought of it like that.

“I was trying to protect my sisters,” you say, attempting to defuse.

“That makes it acceptable?” He counters. “You hardly fought your decision to finish me off. Feyd’s offer of Caladan nearly sealed your decision.” He accuses, his voice lethal.

You’re stunned, your hands dropping from your neck on their own accord. How does he know about that? Surely he must know you didn’t desire that. It was a rouse to entice you to kill Paul, but it didn’t sway you any further.

Paul stands mere feet from you, he’s already regained his breathing and is so still. He’s poised and ready for your next move, waiting to see what you’ll do. But how did he know?

I saw it in your eyes.

“What are you?” You whisper, unsure of what power he possesses. It’s nothing you’ve ever encountered before. Paul beings to stalk towards you, his eyes focused on you.

“I see dreams and the past. I see nightmares and the future.” His words don’t register with you, in too deep of disbelief for them to really impact you. He closing the distance between you like a predator. “I saw you take the vial and have seen you succeed. I’ve seen you die at the hands of the Freman for it. I’ve seen you survive the Freman and die with the Harkonnens.” You can’t look away from him and somehow understand that he’s telling you the truth. Your eyes sting, eyes filling with tears.

“I am the Kwisatz Haderach. And I see a single path. I saw it even before I met you.” He sounds resolute in a moment that was a pivotal build up to this turn of events. “There is much for you to learn.”

“Paul-“ You begin, afraid and still unclear on much of he’s revealed to you. He has seen everything you’ve done. Has felt your anxiety, your hesitation, in making this decision. He must now see your fear as the tears spill over. Paul closes to the small space to you, his thumbs wipe away your tears again. He places his thumbs to his mouth, tasting you. He savors it before cupping your face with his hands.

“You must not fear,” he says, soothing you with how soft his voice is. “I will teach you.”

“What?”

“How to serve.” He says, voice husky and heavy. The weight of the words have you trying to shove him away, fight back if you have a chance. Paul turns you around, pushing you so your chest is against the door. His hands pull at the fabric in the back, tearing open the buttons and stitching. He roughly shoves it down your body, yanking the fabric over your hips.

“Paul, stop!” Your voice is raised as you frantically push away from the door, trying to shift your weight to throw him off balance.

“Silence!” He commands, the Voice bellowing around you. Your mouth snaps shut, tongue relaxed. “Get on the bed,” his volume lower this time, but still commanding. Your body complies, stepping out of the dress. You turn, completely bare before him, his eyes roaming your body. You feel nothing, only fixated on crossing to the bed and climbing on. You kneel and sit back on your heels.

Paul stands before you, his eyes on your breasts. What are you doing? The sheet is cool and light beneath your shins and you’re reminded of the situation you’re in. Exposed, posing for this man who tried to kill you a moment prior. He could tell you to drown yourself and you’d do it. Ultimate control is something to be feared.

“Here with the Freman, you are not above anyone else. You are their equal. In here with me, you are a Princess and I, your Emperor.” You aren’t sure what to do, but you’re frozen. Your mind seems disconnected with your body, nothing willing it to move.

“Undress me,” His voice is direct, but without power behind it. It wasn’t a command so you don’t even flinch. When you don’t make any motion, he says, “Undress me on your own or I’ll command you to do worse.”

Hands shaking, you grab the bottom of his tunic and slowly pull on the fabric. You have trouble getting it over his broad shoulders, so he helps you. He has a warrior’s physique, lean enough to move in battle, strong enough to be a threat. You drop the tunic on the floor, staring at the waistband of his pants. You hesitate before hooking your thumbs on the inside of hem and pull down. He’s hard and you have to maneuver over his bulge.

You risk a peek up at him through your lashes only to find him watching you. Not your chest or your hands, but you. Has he seen this scene play out yet? Can he sense your inexperience and hesitation? The chill of fear is so tight in your chest you’re afraid to even breathe.

His eyes drop from yours to your hands hovering over his thighs and you tentatively take hold of him in your hand. The moment your palm connects with his length, his hand wraps around your head, yanking you up into a searing kiss. It’s punishing and wet as his tongue pries your mouth open and forces his inside. It’s teeth scrapping and nails lacerating your nape as he drives forward. The arch in your back is painful as you rise to meet him, determined to show him your strength. Your hold on him hardens as does his on your hair, a battle of strength ignites from you.

You have to get to the vial. Is it still under the mattress?

He could command you to drink it yourself, but you’d rather that be your ending than be a pawn in another man’s game.

His arm coils around your back pulling your bodies closer until your breasts connect with his chest. He’s warm, so warm it ignites your own exposed skin. Your thumb circles around his tip and he shoves you to the mattress behind you. Before you can open your eyes, he’s on you, pulling your head to one side to bit your exposed neck. You grunt in pain, hands attempting to shove him off.

He easily grabs both of your wrists in his hands and pins them by your head. You push, but he’s stronger. He wedges himself between your thighs before settling himself between them.

“Paul- no,“ You rasp out, unable to catch your breath. He shushes you against your ear, likely too preoccupied to use the Voice. You buck your hips and that only helps him line himself up against your slit. The room seems so much smaller than it did before, its caving in around you in your fear.

To your horror you find that you’re already wet, so wet that his cock easily slides between your folds as he teases you.

“There is only one path that leads to this moment. I wondered if I would be cruel or forgiving.” He’s breathless, almost hoping you’ll give him the answer. He continues to rock into you before he lines himself up with your hole. Even the slightest pressure is too much and has you tensing even more than you were before. He has seemingly decided when his grip on your wrists tightens. “I think cruel,” he says, before thrusting into you so fast it knocks the fight out of your limbs.

He’s big, too big for you and you can’t help the immediate whine that erupts from your chest. It’s pained and echoes off the walls of the seitch. The walls that seem so much closer than before.

Paul doesn’t give you any time to adjust as he rears back the tip and spears you again.

And again.

And again.

He’s crushing his body against yours, hot and sweaty. Limbs heavy against yours, you’re unable to feel anything except him. His heat, his heavy grunts, his skin slick with sweat becomes yours. All at once, the pain inside you subsides and something blooms from it. A pulsing snakes its way up from your womb through your chest before it settles in your throat and breaks through your lips as a moan. The sound is familiar though you’ve only ever let it slip when alone in your room, the rest of the world quiet.

The sound spurs him on to rut into you with more force and punishing pace. Punishment. That’s what this is. Everything in your training has taught you to fight back against this, embody the predators on your family crest. Instead, you’ve become prey. Maybe you’ve always been prey. Perhaps that’s what the guards have been for. What Feyd saw in you.

Lacking the reaction he hoped for, he releases one of your arms to wrap his hand around your throat. Each thrust delivers a constriction of his hand, choking the breath from you. Your free arm reaches for his forearm in a feeble attempt to break free from him, but he’s undeterred and squeezes tighter. Your eyes start to close when he releases you.

Paul pulls himself from you and pushes your shoulder and hip over until you’re flipped on your belly. Before you can think, he yanks you up by your hips and pushes himself back inside your heat. His pace is relentless, not taking a moment to ease up. The desert has given him renewed endurance he wouldn’t have had in a Caladan court.

The pressure in your abdomen grows and soon, the coil of pleasure tightens within the walls of your body. Too much, it’s already too much, but you need more. Arching your back and ass on full display you push back into him. Your shameless moan is muffled by the mattress, but very clearly audible to Paul.

A smack over your ass pulls your focus to the location of the sting.

“You’re not supposed to enjoy this,” he says, as if you don’t know that. The thought wrestles its way into your mind, but the shame doesn’t come. Instead you feel unabashed. “Do you think Feyd could make you sound like this?” He asks, his tone is condescending.

You don’t react, knowing he’s already seen the answer in one of his visions. He’s baiting you for a reaction, for anger. You don’t give in to adding fuel to this growing pyre. You’re so wet that the sound of him pushing into you is all you can think about.

His palm connects with your skin again as he says, “I asked you a question.” His voice is so gruff, so deep that he wouldn’t need to use Bene Gesserit magic to pull the answer from you.

“No,” you whine out, hands clawing at the fabric beneath you.

“Tell me who can,” he baits.

When you don’t speak, he pulls out to the tip and stops. His hips still and his grip on the flesh of your hips tightens. You try to catch your breath, realizing he’s wants you to deny him. Wants you to prove to him how aligned you are with Feyd, with his enemies. You can’t give him a reason to think you’re a threat. To defend the fiend would be a death sentence. To submit to him might buy you the opportunity to survive another day.

“You,” your voice is a rasp. He smacks you again, this time on the other side. You squeal and try to inch away, but get nowhere with his hands on your hips. “Only you,” you correct.

His hips slam into you as a wailing moan escapes you. His fingers reach around for your clit and when he finds it, you feel every delicious inch of him as he splits you open. The pressure of fingers has you clawing at the fabric beneath you. The fast ministrations has your toes curling and eyes roll back into your head before a moan erupts from your throat as you come apart on his cock.

You’re a pile of hollow bones and barely hold you up as he continues to pound into you, never faltering despite the jerking of your hips. His hand returns to your hip as he picks up the pace, grunting behind you like a warrior in battle. He curses before filing your womb with his seed, his pace faltering until the thrusts are shallow and slow. They stop all together and he’s pressing his sweaty chest against your back.

Still coming down from your orgasm, you flinch when he pulls himself out of you and reaches over the side of the bed and grabs something. When he turns back to you, he roughly turns you around so you’re on your back, wincing at the force. The vial and it’s blue poison glisten in the light as he hovers it over your face. It takes you a moment to focus on it, but when you do, you’re reminded of the reason you’re here in the first place. Paul quickly unties the cord that creates the loop and slides it beneath your neck before tying it once more. The glass is so cold it makes you flinch.

“You will wear this for the rest of your life,” He says, his fingers gripping your chin. “You will wear it when I take the throne from your father, when you give birth to our children, and when all the water has left your body. Let it be a reminder that I could command you drink it should you attempt to betray me again.”

Still breathless, you can’t form words. This man is no longer the son of Duke Leto, a noble and honorable man. This man who carries he last line of the Atreides feels more like a Harkonnen than anything else.

He rolls off you and onto his back, panting. Without him hovering over you, the ceiling seems to rise and the walls feel stable. Paul raises his arm to the ceiling, rotating his palm until it’s on it’s side. You stare at him, wondering what he sees, what he knows of the future. He closes his fingers into his palm, leaving his thumb out. Closing one eye, it’s like he can see his destination just beyond it.

“The Baron has reported your deviation of the plan to the Emperor. He’s readying the other houses to come here.”

“What?”

Paul turns his head toward you, his bright blue eyes harden. You can’t read his expression as he says, “They’re going to try to kill me, but with you by my side, they won’t touch me. The Great Houses can support a man whose daughter was stolen, but not a man who put his own heir in the middle of war.”

“You must not know my father.”

“I know him very well,” he says absentmindedly. “I’ve seen his death a hundred different ways. I’ve seen his cowardice and I’ve seen his bravery. This is one is his few acts of bravery.”

“What is?” Your voice is a whisper, your eyes swelling.

“Naming the only son of Duke Leto the Emperor of the Imperium. It’s what starts the holy war.” His confession is heavy. You wonder if he can see your father’s death. Or any of your sister’s. Beads of tears fall like waves down your cheeks, cascading one over the other. It reminds you of the sea on Caladan.

[zorosprincess]

Abbreviate

PAIRING - Oikawa Tooru x Reader WC - 0.7K GENRE - Angst SYNOPSIS - You started to say: 'love you' instead of the whole phrase. I could tell you didn’t mean it anymore by your need to abbreviate. You dropped the 'I' and I knew what that meant. Subtle changes tend to indicate the beginning of the end.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Looking back on it now, you saw it coming.

For months you could feel the distance between you and Tooru growing. The distance between the two of you. A silly phrase. Not talking about physical distance. But in reference to the to the metaphorical distance... miles apart while his body was pressed against yours.

You tried to ignore it, the subtle difference. The first time you noticed it.

Tooru had dropped onto his side of the bed, rolling away like he did every night, turning towards your side with a sigh. He'd pulled your body comfortably into his like usual, your front pressed to his, your head tucked under his.

You'd pressed your kiss to his throat like you always did and mumbled words sincerely. "I love you, Tooru."

He'd hummed, pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead and mumbled back. "Love you, baby."

It was impossible to miss the pang that hit your heart in that moment. Your brain immediately tried to convince itself that you'd overthought the misspeak in that split second.

When he tilted your head up, pressing another soft kiss to your lips and whispering against them, "care to join me for a shower, my queen?" You were convinced to ignore it. To write is off as an effect of his exertion.

But in the middle of the night, when it was silent and you had nothing but time to think, you'd think of it again.

Had that moment really been the first time? Or had you missed another moment before that?

It was a constant battle of back and forth in your mind. It meant nothing and it meant everything. Both at once.

And then it happened again.

"I'll see you tonight?" His gym bag was thrown on his shoulder as he was headed off to classes and you smiled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek when he passed you in the hall on his way to the door.

"I'll be here." You joked back, knowing that you were in for a full night of catching up on school papers. You called when he reached the door, "I love you!"

"Love you, y/n!" He closed the door before the pang in your chest could fully settle back in.

And again.

"Are you going to be home for dinner tonight?" You called into the front of the house, leaning out of the kitchen just enough to see where Tooru was.

"Practicing late tonight." Tooru replied as he pulled on his shoes at the front door. "Probably shouldn't wait up."

"Okay," it wasn't ideal but it also wasn't unusual for him to practice late and come home after you were asleep, "don't push too hard okay?" He chuckled at the worry in your tone. "Then I love you, goodnight baby."

"Night," he called back as he stood up, "love you too!" He'd left before you could even fully process the hollow feeling settling in your chest and you'd spent the rest of the night convincing yourself it meant nothing.

It was unintentional. When it happened the first time. And the second. And the third. Then it was unintentional when you began to count the amount of times he dropped the "I" at the beginning of the phrase. As you noted his refusal to say the whole phrase.

Something in my mind had told you to pay attention. But each time it happened you pushed that little voice down. Chalked it up to your own insecurities. That he probably didn't even realize what he was saying.

The two of you always had the problem of you 'reading into his words too much' as he would say. He never meant them in the ways that you said they could be taken. You refused to bring it up, to push it more. Refused to start a pointless argument just in case you really were only hanging on by a threat.

But you knew. Deep down you knew what it meant. Thinking back now, the subtle change. An indication.

When you were staring at him now, watching him put physical distance between the two of you, not just metaphorical anymore. When you finally heard him put the 'I' back into his statement. You weren't happy to hear it then.

"I love you, y/n. But I'm done. I can't do it anymore." I. I. I.

You should have known. That night lying in bed with his body against yours. The first time the 'I' was dropped. I should have known what it meant.

The beginning of the end.

a/n thanks for coming to the free therapy of fictionalizing my irl breakup experiences. based on an unreleased song by @/leannafirestone on tiktok

TAGLIST - OPEN @all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings

[snowwhite-andtheknight]

Announcing: Obiyuki Week 2024

Welcome back one and all to our ninth annual Obiyuki Week! Our theme this year is:

Ballroom Dance

Each day will have a form of dance for a prompt, as well as a few themes that can be used to inspire works or continue existing ones. This ship week is open to all Obiyuki works, so even if a submission does not quite fit the day, please feel free to post and join in!

Day 1: Quadrille

Introduced in France around 1760, the Quadrille quickly became popular in 18th and 19th century ballrooms across Europe. It is performed by four couples in a square, with one couple at a time dancing while the other three rest. Although not performed in modern competitions, the quadrille late gave rise to other popular forms of dance, such as the waltz and American square dancing.

Themes: Change of Partners, Ensemble Piece, Meddling Matchmakers; White

Day 2: Foxtrot

Premiering in 1914, the Foxtrot was first danced to ragtime music before becoming the dance of choice for big bands from the late 1910s through the 1940s. Known for its elegant glide across the dance floor and quick steps, the foxtrot has since split into slow and quick versions-- also known as the quickstep

Themes: Compatibility, Banter, Swept Off Their Feet; Blue

Day 3: Paso Doble

Originating in Spain, the Paso Doble's dramatic steps are meant to imitate the movements of a bullfight, with the lead playing matador and the follow being either cape or bull. It is often known as the "man's dance," since it displays the lead position-- traditionally male-- to its best advantage.

Themes: Conflict, Obi POV, Vying For Dominance; Red

Day 4: Viennese Waltz

The first ballroom dance to be danced in closed position-- aka, partners hold each other while facing toward each other-- the Viennese Waltz caused a scandal when it was introduced in late 18th century ballrooms. It became fashionable during the Regency period, though it remained "riotous and indecent" as late 1825.

Themes: Scandal, Tradition, Falling in Love; Silver

Day 5: Rhumba

The slowest of the Latin dances performed in modern competition, the Rhumba was first danced in the streets of Cuba before gaining popularity in the early 20th century and becoming what is now known as Ballroom Rumba. Known for its sensual movements and emphasis on hips, it is both known as the "dance of love" and the "woman's dance" for showing off the skill of its follow.

Themes: Intimate, Shirayuki POV, Hips Don't Lie; Green

Day 6: Tango

Another dance tamed to the tastes of ballroom-goers, the Tango originated as an improvisational dance in the lower-class neighborhoods of Buenos Aires and was brought to the United States by immigrants in the early 20th century. It is characterized by drama and passion and precise footwork.

Themes: Passion, Close Quarters, Rivals-to-Lovers; Black

Day 7: West Coast Swing (Free Day)

Evolving from the Lindy Hop of the 1930s, West Coast Swing started as an adaptation of the dance to fit a more crowded dance floor, before gaining popularity as a style all its own in the 1960s. Meant to be improvisational and playful, it best showcases the connection between partners.

Themes: Improvising, Adventure, Friends-to-Lovers; Gold

Dates: September 22nd-28th Tag: #obiyukiweek24 

[Guidelines beneath cut]

Guidelines:

All work must be your own (eg. no plagiarizing other sources, tracing, pose stealing, AI art/writing etc)

The main pairing is Obi x Shirayuki

Must follow the day’s prompt, however loosely

Must be tagged #obiyukiweek24 within the first five tags

With Tumblr’s tagging system on the fritz, please also @ snowwhite-andtheknight in your entry

Please label with the day’s number!

All NSFWcontent must be tagged and under a Read More!

You may submit multiple entries for each day!

Be nice

Play hard

[redysetdare]

every time i see a post that is like "ughh why cant we have aspec characters who aren't aroace for once" I have to do a double take like "is the aroace rep in the room with us right now?" because genuinely....where is all this aroace rep y'all are complaining about? Why cant i find it yet it's apparently the only aspec rep we get?? You admit that TV never says the word aromantic so where is the aroace rep. So far I've pretty much only seen canonically asexual characters and not much else buddy.

[yotd2009]

going from "i like ayaka but i'm going to pull for her brother instead bc i already have a cryo sword user + i want to replace my barbara w a 5*" to ayaka's biggest wanter and a ride or die barbara stan who doesn't even use ayato. every day i regret my decisions made during 3.5

[yueebby]

𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 – 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

synopsis. period piece, forbidden love

contents. ooc, angst (eventual comfort), yandere emperor!gojo, lovesick!gojo, servant!reader, obsessive behavior (5k words of gojo pining), lowkey unreliable narrator, time skips

notes. inspired by the apothecary diaries and this post. loosely based off of ancient japan (this is basically its own world). this is the prologue to the series where everything can generally be read as a standalone ! (fic under the cut)

series masterlist

emperor!gojo who broke a hundred year tradition to take you as his only lover. despite your role as a concubine, everyone in the imperial palace knew he was going to make you his empress.

emperor!gojo who had not meant to fall in love with you, but you have managed to somehow charm him. a man that single handedly brought his own clan to power– weak in your hands. hushed whispers around the imperial palace call you a witch, but they never reach your ears. not as long as he is alive.

emperor!gojo shamelessly showering you with love. he pays no mind that it is highly frowned upon, he will have his hands on you every time you are in the same room.

emperor!gojo who is livid when there is an attempt on your life. his usual ocean eyes turned to blue flames like a wild animal. servants and clan elders alike scurry under his gaze. the assailant is taken care of by his own hands. 

emperor!gojo who is forced to satiate the clan elders into submission by taking in another concubine from an influential clan. he insists to you that it is no more than a political formality. who are you to meddle into imperial affairs?

emperor!gojo who can’t help himself and ends up falling for another girl who his clan elders demand he must wed. she is much younger than you, beautiful and is well bred; a perfect match for the emperor. 

emperor!gojo whose frequent visits to you come to an end, forcing you to move from his chambers and back to the consorts’ pavilion.

There was a time when you had everything. A place to call home in the Inner Court, a beautiful palace with anything you could have ever dreamed of. Servants, admirers, riches; you had it all. But what was most dear to you was your lover– a man so divine, many thought he was directly blessed by the hand of God. It was too good to be true. A woman of lowly birth like you, paid as homage for the sins of her clan against the new reigning family of Japan, becoming a concubine of the Heavenly Emperor. 

You remembered it all too well.

His brilliant mind that once strategized the downfall of the previous imperial family, calculating its next move in a game of Go against you. You can still remember the shock on his face upon his first defeat. The way he would keep you from leaving to fulfill your other duties until he was satisfied, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to keep up with you. No matter how hard he tried, you remained victorious. It drove him mad.

You remembered the stolen kisses while you made your rounds in the Inner Palace with your ladies in waiting. It took you quite a while to learn to tune out their giggles every time the Emperor dips you down to taste your lips in broad daylight. The grin that he wore after was enough to leave your legs weak.

Above all, you'll always remember how safe you felt in his strong, reassuring embrace. You’ve seen him train, and it was no wonder the Gojo clan rose to power so quickly as a result of one man. The way he wields the katana is unlike any man on the face of the earth. Those arms were your sanctuary. You can still vividly recall the attempt on your life, orchestrated by a traditionalist incensed by the Gojo clan's swift ascent to power. The emperor, outraged by the assassination plot, personally saw to the man's execution. 

However, the damage was done and it caused great strain in the Imperial Palace.

To appease the old geezers that were forced out of power, Emperor Gojo had taken in another concubine from one of the Big Three families of Japan— a beautiful Zenin girl. Her flowing, silky hair and saccharine voice enchanted everyone in the Inner Palace, captivating the Emperor, most of all. She was younger than you, with perkier breasts and soft skin that was enough to capture the attention of any man. 

You don’t blame her for taking the Emperor’s attention away. Though you would be a liar if you said it did not hurt you. Deep down, you cannot deny the agony that sears your soul, realizing that the only semblance of love you've ever tasted remains unrequited. With a heavy heart, you resign yourself to the bitter truth of your existence, knowing all too well the cruel confines of your place in this world.

You were merely a pawn, and the Emperor did not want you anymore.

That was made clear months later when you received a scroll from the Emperor’s advisor, a man you were once well acquainted with, Geto Suguru. 

“What is this?” You asked him quietly, your heart silently begging the Heavens it was not what you had suspected it to be. The black haired man in front of you does not respond, and you feel something pierce into your heart. Despite being a part of the Emperor’s court, it was rare that you received letters directly.

Your suspicions were confirmed when your shaky hands finally opened the scroll to read the familiar kanji written by your beloved.

“The Emperor decrees the termination of your role as concubine." Geto spares you the trouble of deciphering the characters neatly written in ink. “In his mercy, you are to be moved as a servant in the Outer Court. You are to serve the Imperial Physician.”

What you remember most was the silence. The Emperor’s silence after the stressful months you had to endure alone. The silence shared between you and Geto when you were forced out of the Imperial Court. All that was left was the sound of your heart breaking and the wood creaking underneath Geto’s feet as he walked away. Satoru never bothered to see you off.

Seasons change and by the next spring, you’re busying your hands with collecting herbs for the Imperial Physician, a man by the name of Yaga Masamichi. He is a kind man, pitying you enough to fill your days with laborious tasks to prevent your mind from wandering to thoughts of the unfortunate turn your life has taken. He is even generous enough to supply you with a new wardrobe of clothing full of light fabrics, a luxury you thought you would lose in the Outer Palace. Though the initial humiliation has worn off with the passing of time, you are still constantly reminded of your fall from grace.

Looks by the mix of condolences and disgust are shared when you roam the walls of the Outer Palace. You hear whispers of how the Emperor is infatuated with his newer, shinier toy. It is enough for you to swallow the bile that makes its way up your throat. 

“It is no wonder the Emperor tossed away a wildflower like her in exchange for a cherry blossom. He needed someone to rival his own greatness.” A particular comment stopped you in your tracks. Your grip tightens on the woven basket in your hand filled with medicinal herbs you had collected earlier that morning. 

“Have some pity on her.” Another eunuch whispers. Your breath falters, but you continue your walk with your head held up. You’ve heard the rumors. The beautiful Zenin Himiko has charmed the Emperor enough that there are rumors of a royal marriage to come. It doesn’t help that the Emperor has remained monogamous to her since he had banished you from his court.

A comforting hand links itself with your arm, “Ignore them. I saw Yaga shooing away a crowd of suitors that were lined up for your hand.” Ieiri Shoko scoffs, secretly sending you a wink. She has been studying medicine under Yaga for nearly a decade, eagerly accepting you as a companion upon your arrival. You feel your cheeks heat up at her flattery. You know she’s just trying to make you feel better.

Although your beauty never faded, it seems as though you are no longer sought after in the marriage market. Not that it matters, considering the new life that you’re living. You’re now a personal servant to the Imperial Physician, leaving no time to worry about suitors and such. Your days are filled with good work— tending to Yaga’s cherished garden that he has sowed for decades rather than frivolous games and attending the Emperor. It may not be glorious compared to your former life, but it was the best a woman of your status could receive. 

When you and Shoko return to Yaga’s estate, you’re surprised to see the somber look that has settled on his aging features. Shoko makes an offhand comment that he will age faster if he keeps scowling. She receives a scolding.

“Is something the matter?” You gently place down your basket full of herbs. 

Yaga sighs, calloused hands rolling up a scroll with the Imperial Seal. “It appears the Emperor’s consort has fallen ill and His Majesty commands my presence in the Imperial Palace.” 

The Royal Consort. The woman that dethroned you: Zenin Himiko.

“I understand.” You nod, maintaining your composure while two sets of eyes scrutinize you with keen observation. It was only natural the emperor wanted the best doctor in the country for his object of affection. “Shall I close up the shop while you journey into the Inner Palace?” 

Yaga shakes his head, “That won’t be necessary. I will have Shoko act as my stand-in.” He remarks with a quick glance in her direction “You, on the other hand, will accompany me.” 

Your eyes widen. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“Typically, one of my apprentices would accompany me on such journeys. However, now that I have acquired a personal attendant,” He gestures towards you with a flick of his hand, “It shall no longer be necessary.” As he speaks, he runs his hand absentmindedly through his well trimmed beard, gaging your reaction.

"I—" Your words falter and fade away. "Yes, sir," you respond, inclining your head in deference, a stark reminder of your place. While you may have concealed it, you were seething with humiliation. Returning to the Imperial Palace after a year of exile to serve the woman who took your spot was mortifying beyond measure.

“Very well. Pack enough for one week’s time. I doubt the Emperor would have called me if this was a light ailment.” He says gruffly. “We leave at dawn.” His gaze shifted to the horizon outside.

1 YEAR AGO

“Your Grace,” You purr at the feeling of his large hands scratching your head. 

The smile that rests on his face is almost ravenous. “Yes, my love?”

“I think—“ A soft sigh escapes your lips when he presses on your weak points. “I should g-go.”

His ministrations stop almost immediately. 

“Go?” His eyes peer down at you in his lap. It is now that you realize the weight of his piercing gaze. “Have I commanded you to leave yet?”

“No, but—”

“Then you have nowhere else to be.” He huffs, unintentionally puffing his cheeks out. You stifle the giggle that nearly escapes from your lips. He vaguely resembles a pufferfish– or so you think. Though you’ve never seen the round creature with your very own eyes, you’ve heard that the delicacy was something only members of the aristocratic class would feast on. 

Your mouth waters at the thought.

“What are you thinking about that could possibly be so important? Keep your eyes on me,” A strong hand squishes your cheeks together and firmly guides your face back upon him. 

You should be embarrassed; ashamed at the intimate position His Majesty has trapped you in. The way your head is tucked away in his lap as he peers down at you, nothing to shield you away from him. It was incredibly scandalous, considering that you were an unmarried woman! But it seemed like the Emperor had taken no mind towards it. You would even dare to say that he was enjoying it, with the way his lips quirk upward at the sight of you squirming. 

“Your Grace,” You repeat, determined to free yourself from his hold. His eyebrows furrow.

“Satoru,” He reminds you. You purse your lips. The position you hold in his court is simply not high enough to grant you the privilege of calling him by his given name.

“Your Grace,” You try again, the title rolling off of your tongue naturally. A man like him did not deserve any title less than.

“You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Indulge a man, won’t you?” He pouts down at you. As stubborn as ever, you don’t relent.

“I would be overstepping my boundaries as your consort to call you as such. That privilege is reserved for your future bride.” You take advantage of his guard let down to sit up and escape his hold. If he could have caught you, he made no effort.

“I am a simple man.” He follows you to your vanity. A giggle escapes your mouth. He is anything but. “I want my love to call me by my name.” 

You turn around to cup his cheek. He eagerly leans into your touch, sighing happily at the contact.

“I wonder how Lord Kento and Geto would react to you like this.” You tease, a smile unknowingly painting itself on your lips. 

Satoru’s face falls, features morphing into an appalled expression. You watch him close the distance between you through the mirror.

“Kento?” His voice had a dangerous lilt in it. You blink, unsure what spurred on the sudden tension in the room. “Since when were you so comfortable around him? He cannot satisfy you like I can.” He reminds you of the man’s castrated state as an eunuch. You wince.

“I have not gotten comfortable,” You’re careful to pick your words. Gojo’s possessiveness was something that was not easily tamed. “He simply provides good conversation while you are away.The palace is far too big and lonely while you’re away dealing with clan matters.” 

The only response you get is a quiet grumble. “You’re lucky that you’re pretty.” His large hand creeps its way into your hair again, undoing the hairstyle your ladies in waiting had spent a copious amount of time on earlier that morning. Gojo carefully plucks the extravagant silver hairpin from your hair, the dangling pearls clicking softly at the sudden movement.  His hands slowly make their way down to the kimono that you are wearing, hands ready to undo the obi.

Your hands softly hover his, “I fear that our roles have been reversed. Should it not be me who gets you unready, Your Grace?”

He chuckles and through the mirror you can see a smirk make his way to his lips, “I’d let you undress me any day. Just say the word, beloved.” 

You roll your eyes, but allow him to continue. It was moments like these with the Emperor that led you on to believe that there was a semblance of love between the two of you. 

How wrong you were.

PRESENT DAY

The sun has yet to meet the horizon when you arrive at the Inner Palace. The horse-drawn carriage that you and Yaga had taken is the only sound at the scene, clopping down the stone road and back to the Inner Court. You miss the serenity of the beautiful palace you once resided in, knowing that it will be bustling with life in just a few short hours.

In front of the large doors of the primary ceremonial hall where the Emperor spends most of his time, stands Lord Nanami, a counsellor to the Emperor himself. Time has only made his face sterner, but his neatly styled hair and blue and yellow dyed court attire remained the same. He waits patiently while you and Yaga make your way up the flight up stairs that lead up to the hall.

“I am glad to see you in good health, Yaga.” Nanami bows. 

The man next to you promptly waves his politeness off, thanking him for his hospitality. You stand silently while the two men engage in conversation regally.

Lord Nanami sighs, “His Majesty has been plagued by stress lately. To say I am relieved by your presence would be an understatement.” His statement is a subtle reminder that you must harden your heart upon entering the palace walls. The meticulously built walls were no longer a sanctuary for you, rather, a painful testament that you were no longer wanted. 

Yaga lets out a hearty laugh and it reveals a rare sight, Lord Nanami’s lips curving upwards by a slight. “I highly doubt the boy would be glad to see me. The appearance of the Imperial Physician is portentous.” He scratches his beard. You tilt your head in confusion at how he referred to the Emperor.

“I suppose, yet I am intrigued to find out how he will react upon seeing his object of affection flourishing anew despite the sting of frost.” Nanami audibly wonders. Even a fool could understand his eloquent comparison. The Emperor would be thrilled to see his consort in full bloom once again. You pray that the Heavens would grant you some mercy from witnessing such a scene.

“Youth,” Yaga shakes his head, chuckling to himself before regaining composure. “I mustn't keep the Emperor waiting. [Name], please gather the herbal ingredients to treat the young Consort as you seem fit. I shall confer with His Majesty and meet you in her chambers to declare a proper diagnosis.”

You bow, “Yes sir.”

While Yaga prepares to enter the doors where The Heavenly Emperor resides, your eyes couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the large bronze doors. 

“You seem well,” Nanami addresses you for the first time in over a year. Your eyes trail from the Emperor’s door to the blonde man in front of you. “Allow me to guide you to our herbal stock.” Nanami offers you his arm as you start to make your way down the stairs. 

You take it, lightly holding his arm.  “Thank you, Lord Nanami. Time away from the Inner Palace has been like a breath of fresh air,” You respond, ensuring your voice carries no malice. You hear the large palace doors from behind you open, the metal creaking loudly in the quiet dawn. 

“I must ask you to call me Kento,” He leads you down the stone steps. “We are old friends, it is strange to hear anything but.” 

You focus on your steps down the stairs, only responding once your feet meet the solid ground, “I fear that our social statuses have changed since then. It would be the cause of a scandal should anyone hear I am calling the Imperial Counselor by his given name. Your admirers would have my head on a stick.”

“Your imagination is amusing as always, [Name].” He gives you a closed eyes smile. You huff.

“I am only speaking the truth!” You insist. He chuckles.

“It is quite refreshing to see both you and Yaga again. I’m not sure how long it has been since I have been at the imperial physician.” 

You gape at his confession. “You mustn't skip your annual visits to the physician, Kento. It is in the best interest of your health!” You lightly scold him, lifting your hand to flick his forehead. It was a force of habit. “Perhaps if I have time after treating the Consort, I shall do a check up on you.”

Nanami clears his throat at your comment, the twinkle in his eyes dissipating as if your direct touch had burned him. 

“I would rather not lose my head.” He mumbles, eyes scanning the courtyard around the two of you. You knit your eyebrows, confused.

Nanami leaves you to fulfill his duties once you arrive at the Royal Kitchens to retrieve all the necessary items to treat Consort Himiko. You are glad that he did not accompany you into the kitchens to prepare Consort Himiko’s herbal soup. 

The memory of it still irks you.

“You’re late,” One of Consort Himiko’s ladies in waiting snaps just as you enter the kitchen. You look up to see a young girl, dressed in a light purple kimono. It must be Himiko’s signature, you note. It was strange to see someone outside of the Imperial family donning the color, but you suppose it was only a grand display of Himiko’s influence.

“You’re a lot more plain than I anticipated,” The other lady in waiting quirks an eyebrow, eyeing your appearance. You furrow your eyebrows, shocked by their rudeness.Their undying loyalty to their Lady was enough to fuel an unspoken hatred for you. Though you’re not sure that the two coincide, you don’t blame them.

The two are mixing a concoction that you don’t recognize to be used to treat the sick. The taller one adds some aromatics and herbs in and you see the other one unwrap a cloth to reveal a rare delicacy from the West. Cocoa, you believed they called it. 

Then it hits you– the two are not making a medicinal soup for their Lady, rather they are making an aphrodisiac! The image that conjures in your head makes you blanch. Back in the Outer Palace, Shoko had shown you the effects of the stimulant (you shiver at the memory of her shoving a treat laced with it into your mouth). It was certainly a night to remember.

“How pathetic,” You mutter underneath your breath, quickly rushing to obtain the ingredients you needed without making conversation with the two girls.

Fortunately, they pay you no further attention for the time you’re in the kitchen.

“Please excuse me,” You bow upon entering the Emperor’s chambers. Despite the Consort’s Pavilion being similar in size to a small town, you remember spending most of your time in the Emperor’s chambers rather than your own. It was probably the same case with Consort Himiko. You slowly place the tray carrying broth and medicinal herbs to treat the Consort down on the circular wooden table in the middle of the room.

Out of curiosity, your eyes can’t help but soak in the Emperor’s room. Not much has changed since you’ve left. His Majesty’s preference for minimalist decorations have stayed the same, along with his natural musk that fills your nose. You feel your face heat up at your own thoughts. How could you think of such a thing when you are about to meet his new lover?

Your gaze moves to his bed, where Consort Himiko resides– only to find nothing.

“Huh?” 

You observe his bed, silk sheets neatly made, seemingly untouched. The sounds of your sock clad feet patter on the wooden floor as you make your way to feel the bedsheets for any signs of warmth, but you are met with nothing.

“Don’t you know that entering the Emperor’s chambers can be punishable by death?” A deep voice from behind you causes you to jump in your spot. 

Your guard is immediately raised, head whipping to the sound. In hindsight, you should have never agreed to accompany Yaga on his trip. It was a foolish idea all along, you think as all of the air in your lungs dissipates upon seeing your former lover. 

Standing at the entrance of his own sleeping quarters is Gojo Satoru, his frame big enough to tower over the doorway. His arms are crossed over each other, electric blue eyes focused on nothing else but you. You press your thighs together tightly to avoid squirming anymore than you are.  He has loosened his dark blue kimono to expose some of his hardened chest, a sight any woman in the nation would die to catch a glimpse.  Even underneath all of the fabric, anyone can see his divinely sculpted physique.

“Your Grace,” You waste no time to dip your body deeply, praying that he will allow you to keep your head by sunset. “I apologize for the intrusion, I was under the pretense that Consort Himiko resided in your quarters–” Your voice loses itself in your throat when you see his shadow quickly encroaching.

“Himiko stays in her Pavilion,” He towers over you, eyes gazing down on you. “But one might suspect that you already knew that.”

Your eyes frantically meet his feet, desperate to salvage what was left of your dignity, “I assure you that I speak of the truth, Your Majesty.”

When he doesn’t respond, you slowly lift your head.

The flustered look on your face must have been amusing to him, as he makes his way closer to you, bending down to interrogate you further.

“Is that so?” He hums, enjoying every second of cornering you into his chambers. The back of your legs have met his bed, trapping you. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your breaths even, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.

He continues, “You’re awfully skittish for someone who was happily skipping around my territory in the arms of another man just earlier.” His predatory gaze seems to darken. 

“Kento?” When his name leaves your lips, the man in front of you grits his teeth. You turn your head to the side, deliberately avoiding him. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, but I don’t see how Kento and I’s relationship is any of your concern,” He does not take your actions well, his gaze searing into you.

“It certainly is when the woman in question is you,” Gojo’s voice loses its feral lilt, distress flashing across his face. There’s a newfound desperation in it that chips away at your resolve. His hand raises to your face so slowly, as if he did not want to startle you.

“This is wrong. I– I saw a couple of servants earlier making aphrodisiacs, perhaps you could have unknowingly consumed them.” You tell him, frantic eyes meeting him. It is not unusual for couples to use aphrodisiacs, you know that after under Yaga. The Emperor must have mistaken the laced dessert for his usual. 

He shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair.

“You are mistaken. This is solely your effect on me.” He promises. You could barely believe his words, stuck between feeling offended or shocked.

“How could you stand to be so cruel?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. There are no tears in your eyes this time.  “I am not a courtesan you can buy for the night,” You snap, pointing a harsh finger to his chest. 

“What do you mean?” He sounds breathless.

“Whatever do I mean?” You scoff, a dry laugh escaping your mouth. “For a year, all I have gotten is pity from the world, because you decided I was no longer entertaining. You could have at least banished me away yourself. Instead, you sent Suguru who couldn’t even look me in the eye! Don’t you know how humiliating that is?” With every word that left your lips, more venom seemed to drip. Anger was prickling you all over, taking control of the rational part of you.

Gojo seemed to be taken aback by your outburst. It was far too late to take anything back now. If you lose your head by nightfall, so be it.

You dig a deeper grave for yourself when you take advantage of his moment of weakness to flee. He’s quick to react, attempting to grip your wrist.

“Wait, [Name], beloved–” He uses that all too familiar term of endearment, but it doesn't deter you.

You accidentally bump into the circular wooden table placed in the middle of the room. What an awful place to keep it, watching in horror as the Consort’s medicine shatters on the floor. To add salt to the wound, a vase you recognize to be specially gifted to the Emperor from a foreign nation tips off too before you can catch it. The sound of porcelain shattering fills the room.

“[Name]! Are you alright?” You hear Gojo ask from behind you, but you run over the broken shards before he can catch you.

Had you bothered to pay closer attention, you would have noticed articles of your clothing and a couple of your missing belongings littered all over the room– creating a faux impression that you never really left the palace.

Days passed by after the incident, and luckily, your head was still attached to your body despite offending and nearly endangering the Emperor. Yaga’s disappointment when you had told him what happened was made evident when he sent you home early after hearing the events that transpired, insisting that he can handle the Consort on his own. Normally you would have argued, but you knew better than to inflict Yaga’s wrath.

“Now you’ve really done it,” Shoko whistles lowly, walking in from the front of Yaga’s shop. 

You hide your face in your hands, “I made an absolute fool of myself, didn’t I?”

“A fool? No. A conspirator against the Emperor? Perhaps.” She dangles a scroll with a familiar seal on it. The Gojo Clan’s familiar emblem reflects off of the sunlight spilling into the room. Your heart drops.

“Oh, they’ll have my head.” You moan, hands instinctively lifting to shield your neck.

“Though I’m quite impressed that Yaga only sent you back here. He used to have worse punishments.” She shudders before impatiently unraveling the scroll. You watch her eyes gradually widen as they read the contents of the letter. The scroll falls from her hand.

You rush to it, desperate to read your fate.

To [Last Name] [First Name],

Greetings and prosperity unto you.

By the mandate of the heavens and the authority vested in Us, We hereby extend Our solemn words to you, [Last Name] [First Name], servant of the realm, in acknowledgement of your debt to the Empire.

In response to your unmeritorious deeds, The Emperor bestows upon you His imperial pardon from capital punishment. In consideration of your obligations and the harmony of the realm, it is hereby decreed that you shall serve as an indentured servant to the Imperial Household for a period commensurate with your debt. During this time, you shall labor faithfully and diligently under the supervision of Our Heavenly Emperor, performing duties essential to the welfare of the Empire.

By fulfilling your obligations with diligence and humility, you may yet earn favor and esteem in Our sight.

The Imperial Court

A loud gasp escapes your mouth.

You feel your legs weaken, your emotions running wild. Shoko’s eyes meet yours, mirroring your frantic gaze. In that moment, you are met with the same suffocating sense of hopelessness.

extra!

gojo was kicking his feet happily as he watched suguru draft out his letter to you. suguru thought it rather cruel, while the white haired male was too busy purring happily as he fantasized about having you back into his grasp.

previous chapter | next chapter [coming soon!]

[mochinomnoms]

Please share the lewd interspecies romance.

Okay so mostly I have thoughts over the Octavinelle trio, especially the twins 🫣 but i wrote a lil something for most of them! also this was not meant to be so long idk what happened

[tags] - nsfw, AFAB-implied reader, but written gender-neutral, mentions of ruts/heats, breeding, etc

nsfw under read-more, minors DNI!

If you really compare humans to the nonhuman population of Twisted Wonderland, there's are some small physiological differences between species. Fae, surprisingly, don't differ from humans all too much. Land dwellers in general don't have anything too significant, though all of nonhuman species retain aspects of their animal counterparts.

Most of Savanaclaw goes through some sort of rut/heat during various times in the year, primarily early spring and summer. There's no logical reason for them to retain that aspect of their mating cycle anymore, not for a sentient species that have skills of logic and reasoning. Unfortunately, they didn't get to choose how their evolution worked, and so they have to deal with it in anyway they can.

They get a lot more irritable, they have throbbing headaches, their abdomen hurts, and the scent of their mate is a lot more enticing than normal. Jack probably has it the worst of them, as a wolf beastmen. Not only does he have to deal with a fever-inducing rut that will put him out of commission for a week, afterwards he has to deal with the a/b/o jokes from his classmates too, oh the horror. It is really a horror though when he's able to bend you over his bed, bite marks aligned your neck and back as his dick pounds into you till his knot swells and locks you in for at least an hour. Jack's incredibly embarrassed afterwards, though he manages to be incredibly sweet even after rearranging your guts. Wolf beastmen are one of the most affectionate partners to have with a reputation providing some of the best aftercare for their species. It's most likely to make up for their week-long copulation, stretching and tiring out their sweet little mates. Ooooh, but they'll so very sweet: cleaning up the sticky mess of fluids between your legs with their tongue, careful to not overstimulate you (unless you ask), tending to the mating mark they placed on the back of your neck with soft kisses and licks, and making sure to prop your lower half up to that your chances of taking their seed increases.

Lacking the annual rut/heat that other variants of beastmen have, lion and hyena beastmen are more similar is this regard, as they don't have the same issue of long copulations as wolf beastmen. Neither will initiate sex, rather they'll rely on their mates to do so. Ruggie, in particular, is rather reluctant initiating sex, as male hyenas are typically more submissive, so if you're shy you'll have to get over it. But once you do, Ruggie is ever so happy to service you if you're happy to give him praise. Run your hands through his hair and ears as he eats you out, he'll let out the cutest whimpers and groans as you do. Just, expect to be jellyboned by the time he's done with you, as a hyena he needs to make sure his mate won't snip back at him and you can't exactly do that if your fucked out. While he may not have the same stamina as Jack for week-long fuck session, he has a particularly short refractory period and can have several short sessions in a single night.

Leona also won't typically initiate sex on his own, it happens very sporadically, and he his the image of the lazy lion. While he never wants to do anything particularly extraneous, who is he to deny you needs? You'll have to do some preparing though, as while the barbs on his dick aren't as bad as they are in his animal variant, they will hurt if you're not wet and pliable enough. Be sure to sit on his face, don't worry you won't suffocate him and it's better you cum a few times first before taking him. Unless you want it to hurt? Once you've cum enough times, you can ride him to your heart's content. He only asks that you don't mention how he rubs his head into the crook of your neck, marking you so that if everyone couldn't tell by the sounds coming from his room, they'd know you're his from his scent. Lions are quite protective with their territory and pride after all.

Merfolk have the most extreme physiological differences between them and...any land dweller really. It comes with the territory of being suited for a completely different environment. They also behave a lot more similarly to their animal counterparts, which can be both delicious and exhausting for their humans.

Moray eels don't have a set time of the year they mate, but rather the water must be warm and plenty of food must be ready to provide to their mate. When the spring time weather above the sea starts transitioning from crisp to blazing, don't be too surprised when the twins start handfeeding you meals and snacks throughout the week, they want to make sure you're happy and full for them, getting you in the mood with a sweet, dizzying underwater dance to initiate until they get the okay from you. What's that 'okay' though? You know that yawning I mentioned before? You'll get your answer from them now, as they take your open mouth yawn as an invitation rather than a sign of tiredness. Floyd, in particular, is ready to drag you into the deep part of the pool before remembering that you need to breathe somehow. Not a problem. He'll keep your pretty head above water. You'll still have trouble breathing as his long tapered tongue worms his way in your mouth. No matter, you'll be gasping for breath as he bullies this cock into your hole, large enough that you can physically feel the bump on your stomach. Morays are awfully fond of wrapping themselves around their mates, seeing as Floyd will do his best to tangle his tail around your body and squeezing you as you squeeze down his dick. He loves the physical contact between you two, and is amused how your nails try to dig into his shoulders seeing as the mucus on his skin makes it near impossible to have a steady grasp. You're completely dependent on Floyd as you drool and cry out for relief from the overstimulation, which is oh so ever exciting.

Jade is equally as cruel when it comes to mating. Unlike the others, merfolk tend to mate with the intention to, well, mate. He prefers you to be soft and pliant for him, as well as wholly depending as you two fuck. So, he'll happily brew you a water-breathing potion so he can actually drag you into the deep, where he found a secluded, warm grotto that will allow him to keep you to himself for hours, but close enough to the surface that he can continuously grab you food to eat between sessions. Not that those sessions will be short either. Like his brother, Jade is content to wrap himself around your body as he cooed honeyed words into your ears about how you'll make a wet, warm, soft hole for breeding. It's not like he'll have to do much either, his dick is prehensile and he can wrap himself around you, swiping kisses and nuzzling into the crook of your very sensitive neck while his thick cock continuously pounds into you with a bruising pace. He's so mean!! He likes seeing you cry from overstimulation too, and Jade will continuously scoot down to clean you up with his tongue, only to claim that too much of his seed was gone and he needed to fill you up again for another few hours. He's truly quite incorrigible, especially when he bites into your neck and shoulders to make his claim on you. Don't worry, most morays' bites aren't venomous, and even if they are, you have him to care for you. You're going to be depending on him in the water anyway, so there's no need to worry about it too much.

Something that neither probably won't mention, probably because they won't realize it's something you should know, is that they can change their sex under the right conditions. If you're ever so inclined in the future to test the waters out, the twins might be so generous to let you eat them out instead.

Of the trio, Azul's the only one with an established mating season, two actually: one in the late spring and the other in the early fall. Respectively, one during finals and the other during orientation. He's already so incredibly stressed, and he has the need to breed too? Downright atrocious. It's wonderful that you're so kind that he can take refuge in you and use you like a new octopot, so tell him how pretty he is and how much you love him and only him, so that you have the privilege fucking his merform. The moment you're entering the water, he'll unconsciously display mating signals by flashing soft lilacs and blues, a beautiful display of his need for you. He's rather large, even bigger than the twins, in his merform, so you'll need preparation as well; have no fear, his tentacles are wrapping and kneading the squishiest parts of you. I mentioned before that he can taste the salt on your skin and pulse through your wrist via his suckers. He can taste the slick from your walls, too, without even having to use his mouth as the suckers massage you from the inside. If you'd like, he technically could give you a full flavor profile afterward, though he'll probably be a bit mortified to do so. The biggest difference is his dick, or lack thereof. Instead of a dick, Azul has a hectocotylus, which is a modified, slightly shorter arm of his with a thicker spade-shaped tip that he can practically rearrange your guts with, with little effort on his part really. Most octo-mer variants will keep their mate at a distance, eons of instinct hard to forget. Azul's variant, though, will keep you close, almost dancing with you in a sweet, sensual twirl as he places sweet kissing and bites on your neck, arms, and chest. Octopi are, in fact, venomous, however, so you will be feeling a bit of a lustful high, paralyzed, and a bit helpless to the whims of a needy octopus. He's quite good at aftercare though, making sure you get an antidote and handfeeding you calorie-rich snacks to energize you back up (again, he's aware that you won't eat him, but instinct dictates that he keeps you full with both food and cum to make you a happy mate).

*collapses into heap on floor* thoughts....full.....ahahaha breeding kink go burrrrr. i was not meant to write this much and then it escaped me. also i hate tagging

[navybrat817]

Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?

I wish I had the answer, nonnie!

Slip Inside

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.

He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.

Like you knew he was watching you.

“I love you,” he breathed into the room.

You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.

You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.

And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.

Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.

“Mine,” he whispered.

Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.

If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.

“You're mine,” he growled lowly.

Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.

You didn't know he'd come home tonight.

He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.

Only him.

He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.

You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.

And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.

He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.

He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.

But he had to make it last and make you come first.

With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.

He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.

“Bucky?” You mumbled.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”

You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.

“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”

You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.

“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”

Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.

He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.

You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”

“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”

He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.

“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.

He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.

“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.

“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”

Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.

We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[tteokdoroki]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he only desires you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the very secret made you feel dirty and used. 

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

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

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

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

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

like right now.

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

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

“about me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“did you miss me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

how he wanted to own every part of you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“maybe, if you’re lucky.” 

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

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

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

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

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

how can you say no.

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” 

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

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

“so you’ve said, ‘toru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

knock, knock, knock.

“hey little one, i’m home!” 

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

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

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

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

“hey, little one? it’s me, suguru..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“o-oh sugu, you shouldn’t have!”

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

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

his best friend. 

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

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

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

“i know, suguru.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

they all share the shade of a baby powder blue. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hiding his presence from suguru. 

“hi ‘toru.”

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

“i almost told sugu about us today.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

be someone that you deserve. 

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

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

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

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

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

“i want… i want you too.” 

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

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

except gojo isn’t drunk. 

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

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

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

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

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

the girl he might actually love, after all. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru gojo has always been afraid of love. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

how could a man like him make anyone happy? 

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

no one except for… 

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

no one except for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

there’s suguru too.

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

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

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

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

the both of you were better off without him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his driver, reassuring him once again. 

“it’s okay, satoru. just breathe.” 

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

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

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

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

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

satoru gojo is not as brave as he thought. 

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

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

except this isn’t just dinner. 

this is make or break. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“since when did you smoke, satoru?”

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

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

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

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

like you, his sister? 

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

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

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

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

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

a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit.

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

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

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

the very notion scares satoru. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru is such a coward. 

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

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

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

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

they share a familiar, all knowing smile. 

“yeah, satoru. let’s do this.” 

without even knowing, that everything is about to change.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

her efforts do nothing to help calm you down. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he can’t help it, you’re beautiful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

if only you weren’t such a coward. 

if only he weren’t so afraid.

if only…

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

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

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

if only suguru wasn’t your older brother. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sugu what are you—!”

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

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

“suguru, we’ve hardly ordered anything!” 

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

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

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

“a toast to you, my little sister.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“satoru.”

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

“suguru.” 

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

you wish. that would be an ideal world. 

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

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

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

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

“i hadn’t even noticed.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“mom! oh my god!” 

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

“sugu, not you too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you okay, little one?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh!

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru chokes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

why did you even suggest this? 

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

you wanted to be his girlfriend. 

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

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

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

the burn of underlying guilt.

“i can help with that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s selfish and both of you know that.

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

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

but isn’t that what you want? 

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

how you might fail to live without him? 

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

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

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

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

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

“say that again.” you moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

one. two. three. 

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

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

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

he quickly abandons his joint.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

because all you feel is ecstasy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but satoru has always had a way about charming you. 

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

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

“can i ride you?” you ask him hazily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

warm, cherished and cared for. 

just like suguru would want you to be. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

suguru geto was not an idiot. 

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

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

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

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

suguru geto was not stupid.

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

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

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

another soul he’s grown up with. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you can’t. you’d never…

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

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

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

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

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

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

pet like a dog getting a treat.

a reward for taking care of you all these years.

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

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

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

“does anybody want to order dessert?”

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

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

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

“daifuku!” 

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

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

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

suguru geto was not a fool.

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

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

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

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

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

it all hits him like a truck.

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

“suguru what are you—?”

“you fucked her. didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

onlookers in the restaurant are no different. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i said how long!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck you right back, geto.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“suguru! s-stop it!” you cry. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

he sounds like he’s about to cry.

“i know.” 

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

“i know.” 

“you’re five years older than her!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you like to think that you know suguru geto. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“suguru— your sister!”

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

“suguru please.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

some grateful little sister you are.

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

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

wait… that’s not true.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“a-are you leaving?” 

“for a little while.”

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

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

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

“sugu, please don’t go.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and with that, he’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

things that suguru had helped you to achieve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s true. he is. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

if it was only a touch, why did it ruin him?

juices and thick waves of cum that had once coated your throbbing cunt now slosh over your dresser that dully thuds against your bedroom wall — over and over again the faster gojo’s hips pound into yours. the sound of skin on skin overwhelms all of your senses, you’re stimulated beyond belief and you’re crying from multiple places…it’s almost too much for your poor ravaged body to handle. 

“i’ll n-never stop…fuuuck baby, as long as i’ve got you. ‘m never stoppin’…never stoppin’… n-never—“ your man chants, crying into your mouth and the hot lustful buzzing hair between you when grab his ass so that he can fuck you deeper. the slit at his cockhead is overloaded with viscous precum, smearing it along your inner and gushing ribbed walls — claiming your insides for the second time that night. 

your hips run from the pleasure that you crave and that satoru gives to you — cross eyed and panting from above you like a wet dog. there’s no need for him to run from you though, you won’t let him, not when he needs to be loved by you. someone who cares for satoru gojo despite all of his mistakes.  

a creamy ring begins to form at the base of satoru’s swelling cock, all white and frothy from where he’s been churning your guts up lovingly — pounding his earlier orgasm inside of you as if to make it stick. your clit grinds against his smooth pelvis, dragging you by the ankle to another world-altering orgasm and his balls slap wetly against the curve of your fleshy ass. 

satoru adjusts your body against the dresser so that the curve of your spine rests on the table and he’s able to hike your legs over his shoulders so he can bully that one special spot only he can reach. your knees meet your chest, breasts bouncing beneath them from the force of the white haired man’s chest. “g-god, you’re…you’re fucking me too good,” you gargle, hands in his sweaty mass of silver hair as you tug gojo implausibly closer. “i wanna cum…are you there? c-can i cum, ‘toru?”

pressing his forehead to yours, satoru nods feverishly. “right behind you, baby. where do you want it?” there’s a fluid roll to your man’s hips, his cock dipping in and out of your fluttering entrance so fast and so good that you’re sure you’re about to lose consciousness. “how about inside? how ‘bout you lemme leave somethin’ with you?” clear, thick strings tie your clenching pussy to satoru’s cum glazed shaft — glistening under the night’s natural light. you can’t wait for there to be more of him inside you. “touch your clit for me baby, make yourself cum on my dick.” 

you do as your told, fumbling between your salt-licked entangled limbs for the little nub between your swollen folds. immediately pressing down on it, you find yourself tightening around gojo while he grinds harshly against your g-spot and moans breathily against your Cupid’s bow since your foreheads are still pressed together. 

“s-sa…satoru! ‘m…i’m cumming!” one look at him, completely destroyed by you, is all it takes to send you flying to cloud nine — your stomach lurches and your eyes roll back into the dark depths of your skull as you cum one more time for your lover. clear streams of your essence squirt steadily from your cunt, bathing satoru in your orgasm while you succumb to overstimulation. 

his tummy and thighs are doused in your precious liquid as you quietly scream his name — all of these senses serve to trigger his own orgasm. “c’mon, that’s it little one. give it to me, i gotcha. want it all over me,” gojo smirks against your lips, peppering them with soft kisses while he wrecks and bullies your insides in an attempt to cum himself. “oooh, fuck. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

just like he promised, satoru gives you another hot load — failing to stop fucking you through either of your highs. he loses control of his hips, allowing them to languidly and uncoordinatedly rut into you — pushing his seed further up your silken walls until your cunt is covered in a layer of white. there’s so much of it that white drips his balls and inner thighs, as well as down to your puckered asshole. maybe it’s a little crude if him, but satoru’s lengthy fingers gather what you leak and smears it against your lips — kissing you there, sucking your mixed flavours from your eager mouth.

it’s only while you calm down from your orgasms that things start to change…drastically. 

even as satoru kisses your hairline and whispers praises against it, rocking you back and forth as you twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm — the fear comes rushing back. 

the post-orgasmic clarity hits.

the tears start flowing once more and you realise that you’re so, so tired of it all.

yellow and artificial light from down the hall seeps through the gap underneath your door, accompanied by footsteps. you’ve no doubt that someone in your home is awake, maybe your mum going for her late night glass of water, your dad for the loo or maybe even suguru. for his flight. the light is glaring and illuminates your room — highlighting the night’s mistake. satoru. 

when the footsteps recede and the light dims down, you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding — your silent tears blooming into quiet hiccups that you have no control over. “h-hey,” he cups your face, wiping at your eyes just like your brother had done before shutting you out. “hey pretty girl, what’s the matter? did i hurt you? was that too much—?”

slicing through gojo’s words, you find the strength to speak even if it hurts to reveal the truth. it’s like ripping off a bandaid, “how do i know that you really mean all this? that you’re going to keep your promise, ‘toru?”

“w-what?” 

“i can’t do this!” you snap as loudly as your voice will allow you to. you don’t want to wake anyone else up nor get caught by your brother with your pants down for the man who betrayed his trust. not to mention, nearly getting him to hate you. “you promised to take care of me. just like suguru would, while we were basically having sex — how am i supposed to trust that?” it sounds crazy coming from your mouth, doubting satoru even after the intimate moments that you’ve just shared. however, you’ve been around this block with him too many times, you know the signs off by heart, you’ve memorised the cracks in his resolve as if they’re those in the pavement. the ones people tell you not to step on to avoid bad luck. 

you feel unlucky, you feel played and naive. you saw all the warnings and wilfully ignored them because you liked the way satoru loved before he knew the weight of the word. “how am i supposed to trust you?” you add, voice wavering.

satoru can’t seem to find an excuse — maybe because his brain is too fucked out or maybe because he’s shocked that you’re not just blindly trusting him anymore. he always thought things would be easy with you, that this nightmare would be over quick… and you’d take him back just like that. perhaps the dinner was your wake up call. “i don’t… i don’t know, i just…” he selfishly expects you to believe him. “you know me. you love me and i love you, can’t that be enough?” 

“you’ve never given me enough, satoru! it’s only now that you’re realising you want me as more than just your… your plaything! when i’m all you have left and suguru is gone with the wind!” you want to push him away but satoru is rooted in front of you, his presence sturdy unlike before. “you say that you love me, and i think i believe it…but it’s so hard to trust you. to not think that this is just an impulse.” 

“i’d wanna be with you even if suguru stayed, i always do. it kills me to be away from you!” satoru fires back, scrambling for something…anything that’ll make you see just how badly he means it when he says he loves you and wants you. that it’s not because he’s afraid of being alone. “i fucked this up, with you and with suguru. but i’ve known for a long time that i’ve wanted you, needed you to be mine and more than just a fling!” 

you look away, face twisting with pain. “i…i don’t believe that.” 

“then let me prove it,” the words rush right out of gojo’s mouth, faster than his brain can catch up — his anxiety spiking at the thought of you abandoning what you have together. abandoning him. “move in with me, come with me. i’ll get us a place in the city where your new job is, i’ll get my dad to transfer me to a closer branch of Gojo Corp… just let me show you how much i want to make this work — even if it means losing suguru.” 

satoru grabs your chin and tilts your gaze back over to him — but you can’t even look him in the eye. 

instead, your face burns, hot as your vision swims with another wave of tears. “i need your honesty, satoru. no more empty promises, no more false hopes.” he can see it in you now, how exhausted you are with the game of cat and mouse you’ve been playing all this time. you just want to be loved without constraint and satoru comes with so much baggage he’ll only weigh you down when you try to fly from the nest. it wouldn’t be fair. “i need you to choose. would you really give it all up for me? your reputation, your lifestyle, your best friend?” 

satoru’s wants to be selfish, desperately so. it’s all he’s ever known. taking and taking until his partner at the time is nothing but a husk of the person they once were. the difference this time is that he actually loves you, cares for you and would kill for you. he’s already taken so much from your youthful bright eyes. 

he would hate to take your spark too.

so satoru gojo decides to weigh up his options. 

either lose it all and keep you as his or lose you while the wounds he’s inflicted on everyone else heal. 

if you love someone, then let them go. if they come back to you, they’re yours. 

“then… then i’m sorry. for not being more honest. you’re right in every sense of the word…i can’t give this up,” gojo says simply, watching the light and hope in your eyes die out. “i think it’s best if we end it here and i let you go.” 

so reddit, AITA? 

UPDATE - AITA (27M) FOR FUCKING MY BEST FRIEND'S (26M) LITTLE SISTER (22F)? hey reddit. long time no see, i got a lot of attention on this post and undoubtedly you all decided that i was the asshole. i’ve done some work on myself and now i see that i was 100% in the wrong. i’ll spare you the boring details, because i know that’s not what you’re here for. i didn't want to leave anyone hanging, so here’s a quick update on where the three of us are at, one year later. i’ll start by saying — we broke up. i made the call so now she’s seeing someone else, and it’s serious. 

in another lifetime, satoru would have chosen to be with you. 

he’s certain that in another wonderfully weird and wacky universe — nothing would have stopped you from being that happy couple you wanted to be so badly. suguru might have even accepted your relationship, or maybe he would have died and his final wish would have been for the white haired man to make you happy. 

that is something satoru will never know. the idea comforts him whenever he’s left alone with his thoughts for a little too long.

however, this isn’t another lifetime. this isn’t a different universe. this is the reality where satoru gojo had broken up with you right after your graduation. 

he did it so that he wouldn’t come off as selfish — so that you had a chance to fix things with his ex best friend (and your brother) before it was too late. it was the least he could do after taking advantage of you, corrupting you against all of suguru’s wishes — but that didn’t make gojo any better of a man nor a knight in shining armour. he was still a shifty guy. 

still selfish, though, the decision was made with satoru still in mind. 

the night he’d broken up with you obviously ended in tears. to you, it was the end of your life — losing your first love, and you couldn’t even be blamed. you were only twenty two, your reaction was justified. suguru had been right in that sense, you were innocent and your heart needed to be protected, satoru had definitely taken advantage of that. 

you were kind enough to let your then ex stay the night — as long as he was back in the hospital and gone by the morning. satoru never knew what transpired the next day, as you were quick to block him on everything, and you had every right. 

he made his choice and his bed, now he had to lie in it too.

geto did leave, gojo knows that much, having seen his best friend take up work at a law firm in the US. geto had since been low contact with him. as did the rest of your family. again, it was for the best — even if it did hurt and cause gojo to bury himself within his father’s company, working himself to the bone every day just as a distraction.

through the grapevine of CEOs and higher ups, satoru learns that you’ve followed in your brother’s footsteps and made your way over to the land of the free. the magazine you worked for, Heavenly Pact, was getting ready to start an american edition and word had travelled that you were going to be the head of their new office on that side of the pond. gojo was proud, excited for you — you were excelling in your career all on your own, he was glad that he hadn’t ruined that for you too.

being in the states from time to time, satoru often wondered if there would ever be a time where he ran into you. would you be happy to see him? would you even want to talk? what would he even say?

‘i’m sorry for fucking you for fun and fumbling the bag — almost destroying your relationship with your brother when i caught feelings’ wouldn’t exactly fly well with you, he was sure.

it didn’t end up mattering anyways, because when gojo does eventually bump into you during business hours — he almost doesn’t recognise you. he’s in New York for some big, fancy corporate meeting about mergers and acquisitions, whatever his father had put into the file gojo was skim reading on his phone at the last minute, right before making his way up to the conference room. 

the elevator taking him there stood about six floors shy of satoru’s destination and a young woman enters like a hurricane — bringing with her a whirlwind of paperwork and notebooks. “i-i’m sorry.” the young woman stutters from behind her pile of belongings, out of breath from seemingly running for the elevator. “could you press the button for my floor? i would do it myself, but…” 

there’s a strain in her voice that makes gojo chuckle to himself, reaching past her so that his fingertips brush over the cool and luminous buttons for each floor. “are you going up?” 

“down actually… you?” 

“up ‘m afraid, but headed to the top floor. so this elevator’s probably going to head straight down to wherever you need to be afterwards.” he offers up apologetically. he swears the tonation to her voice sounds familiar, it’s soft and sugarcoated notes stirring up a warm feeling in gojo’s tummy.

“that’s fine by me, i’m running ahead of schedule anyway. floor eleven for me, please.” 

gojo does as he’s told, pressing the button for the eleventh floor — he has to reach past the woman in order to do so. his vigilant blue eyes catch a glimpse of the fashion photography stacked in her arms amongst sketches and other designs while the scent of her perfume strikes a dizzying recognition within the white haired man. undertones of vanilla with subtle floral scents make gojo’s stomach turn and light bulb memories of those precious two years flash behind tired cerulean eyes. 

he knows you, he thinks, all too well.

he says your name under his breath as though he’s keeping a secret and you freeze — no longer sorting through the papers flying about the place. when you look up and your eyes meet, you feel like the world has stopped spinning and that it’s just the two of you, frozen in time.

“satoru,” you breathe and quite plainly, as if you’re holding back any emotion you feel towards your ex…but then you smile, and it’s so vibrant satoru feels like he might go blind. not a trace of resentment in those big, beautiful brown eyes. “it’s been a while.” 

you’ve changed a lot in only a year. while your face still holds its youthful innocence, except your eyes reflect growth and maturity — perhaps a little bit of exhaustion from how hard you’ve been working on your new job. you’re still as beautiful as the day gojo left you, but perhaps even more so. your light  glows instead of dulls, most likely because you’re free. he’s no longer holding you back with a jail sentence of his selfishness. you’ve been able to live your life properly, just as someone your age should. 

it would be wrong for him to interfere with your newfound happiness.

turning on his heel, satoru faces forward and avoids your gaze — continually repeating the mantra ‘she’d be better off without you.’ to stop himself from reaching out and touching you like he so desperately wants to. he misses you, that much is a fact, but that doesn’t mean he no longer craves to be with you, breathe you in, be by our side.

satoru had let you go three-hundred and sixty-five days ago with the hopes of you coming back to him.  

maybe this was it.

you don’t take kindly to being ignored, leaning forward with your papers and files tucked securely against your chest in order to garner his attention. satoru adjusts his dress shirt, plays with his cuffs, inspects his surroundings — anything to avoid you and make a fool out of himself. or worse, mess everything up for you. his therapist had called his previous and past behaviours a self-destructive tornado — destroying everything in its path without regard.

he couldn’t go back to that.

“gojo, don’t pretend like i don’t exist,” you pout in annoyance — reminding your ex all too much of the times you spent together at your dorms. “i see you and you see me. we’re adults, surely you can handle a conversation.” it’s your teasing tone that finally makes gojo cave, sparing you a starry, blue eyed glance. 

he can’t help the cocky chuckle that escapes him, almost slipping back into his old and familiar ways with you. “you wanna talk to me that bad, huh? did you miss me or somethin’?” it’s a condescending and patronising thing to say — almost as if he’s treating you like a child. 

that makes you stand up right, heat rising to your cheeks at the familiar feeling — you’re not mad though. “i see you’re still as full of yourself as ever.” 

it’s satoru’s turn to pout this time, shifting his focus to a corner of the rising elevator . “h-hey! i’m working on it!” you’ve never seen him so nervous, not in your entire life of knowing him…but you suppose a lot can change in a year. you’re sure he’s different, just like you are. “yanno…therapy ‘n stuff. it helps. helped.” 

“oh yeah?” you hum curiously, knowing that he’s making reference to your break up, losing suguru. you don’t dare to press further, though. “me too.” the pair of you fall silent for a moment, sitting with the unaddressed awkwardness, the tension and unresolved feelings. “how…how are you? how’s things?” 

he’s surprised that you’ve even asked, let alone want to talk to him after everything he’d put you through. it’s weird but also clear that you’d been working on healing too — what’s a conversation between two adults then? “good,” satoru starts, though he’s being far from honest. he misses you. “i���ve been working to finally take over dad’s company. old man’s retiring, so i thought i’d play my part and be responsible for once.” 

you grin warmly at the news. “it sounds like you’re doing well, toru.” he nearly jumps at the familiar nickname, choosing not to respond. “not that you asked, but i’m kind of in the same boat? they’re putting me at a deputy manager’s position for my magazine’s new branch. i’m excited.”

“i’ve heard,” the words rush from satoru’s mouth before he can stop them, feeling sheepish as you raise a brow at him. “not that i’ve been stalking you or anything! you hear things when you’re at the top!” 

“yeah, sure.” you tease, enjoying watching gojo squirm.

a question he’s not sure he’s allowed to ask sits on the tip of his tongue and satoru pushes it around in his mouth hesitantly. “how…how’s suguru?”

you perk up, tentatively choosing what to say next. “o-oh…he’s good? we’re…our relationship is better now. it took a lot of work, but he’s healthy and happy. i… i think he misses you sometimes but, he’s still not ready yet.” 

gojo nods once and chooses not to press about his ex best friend further. “and how are you?” 

“m-me? i thought we’d just went over that—“

your ex turns to face you fully, a pleading look on his face that shocks you out of your casual stance. you can still see how much he adores you and cares for you, as if it never left his nature to want the best for you. 

“are you happy?” 

he asks the loaded question like it’s easy to answer and you do have to think about it. are you happy? you’ve been putting in the work to feel like that again, after breaking it off with satoru you were low. almost rock bottom. it was your first ever break up and it hit hard — not to mention you didn’t have your older brother to fall back on at the time. you knew it was time to stop depending on others, it was time to grow your own spine. you took to therapy, you learned your triggers and icks and red flags. it took time and patience with yourself, but here you were, a year later and a little happier than when you saw satoru last. 

“yeah,” you confirm with a shy nod, taking interest in your feet while you hide your smile. “i’m happy. with myself, my work and my partner—“ 

partner? 

“—you’re dating someone?” gojo quips as the elevator dings for the floor just before his. 

“ahh yes! it’s still new but… he makes me happy. yuuta okkotsu, you might have seen him around? i hear his family’s company and yours have done some work together.” you seem bashful as you talk about yuuta, someone you met through work, someone your age. a sense of pride in being together taking over you. you show him off and boast about him in a way that you wished gojo would have done for you. 

the revelation nearly kills satoru — it’s like a bullet to the chest or a knife to his heart. envy bleeds from the open wound, pours down his front and taints his blood stream. it fucking hurts to know that you’ve moved on to someone who treats you better than he ever could…but you deserve it. you were so good to him and to the world that it would seem like a crime for you to end up with someone who didn’t love and appreciate you in the ways that they should. 

that doesn’t make him feel any better though, it makes him feel as though he might die. 

when the elevator reaches the gojo’s floor  — he falters in stepping out without saying goodbye or replying to you. he would be doing it to hurt you, and to be spiteful or petty. just like back then. 

there’s still so much that he wants to say to you — so many things he wants to fix but he can’t shake the feeling that this was it. this was closure for the both of you. 

as he exits, he whirls around with enough time to spare before the doors close on you, and this chapter of both of your lives — just catching your bewildered expression. “thank you, for everything,” gojo calls to you fondly, watching your previous expressions morph into something soft and appreciative. “i…i really did love you, and if i could go back and do those two years over again. i’d be better, for you. i’d love you, properly.” 

the doors to the elevator slowly begin to close and satoru steps forward at the same time as you — it feels like you’re sharing one last goodbye. 

“i know,” you say without a trace of malice, a wistfulness in your voice. “i’m thankful to have been with you, because you taught me so much in such little time. i’d do it again, if we were better.”

a sad smile tugs at the corner’s of gojo’s pink lips. “in another life?”

“in another life.” you confirm, mirroring his smile as the elevator finally seals itself shut — leaving him with his reflection on it’s cool, metal doors.

it’s a shame that you only have one life, and that there aren’t any do overs. that way, everyone could live a life without regret — because gojo has his regrets, where he wishes that he loved you better, harder, more…so that you’d come back to him and you would be his.

 always.

so redditors and other losers lurking on this thread. that’s my update. i already know a lot of you are going to say that i deserve this — and i do. but i’m happy for her, for both of them and i wish them both all the best. whaddya say, am i still the asshole? 

END.

꒰ thank you for reading. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[ghostfacd]

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙀𝙉, 𝙃𝙀’𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader

genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically

summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman

Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.

Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.

In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.

Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.

“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.

“Huh?”

“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”

“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”

Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.

“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.

“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”

“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.

- - -

The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.

“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”

Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.

“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”

Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.

Your hair is pretty today

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.

So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?

You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.

His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.

“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.

“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”

And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.

- - -

“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”

“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”

Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”

When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.

“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”

“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”

That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.

“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”

When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.

“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.

“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.

“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”

“And Pansy,” you add.

“And Pansy.”

- - -

When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.

“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.

“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”

He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”

“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.

“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”

You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.

- - -

“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”

Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?

“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.

“That’s why we have to do it.”

The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.

“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.

“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”

“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”

The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.

“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.

“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.

“Too pretty?”

“Well yeah,”

You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.

“Did you just-”

“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”

And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.

[yeonzzzn]

♣️i told you so: sim jaeyun

part two of the off limits trilogy

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 26.8k

synopsis: your brother and boyfriend’s constant nagging you to transfer to their college finally worked, you breaking at the soft spot you have for them and packing your whole college life into suitcases and boxes. at first you were actually happy, being with your friends again. but as time passes, jake’s past college life that was before you, unfolds and stirs up trouble. genre: established relationship, older brothers best friend!au, college life, smut, fluff, angst. warnings: swearing, multiple unprotective sex scenes, breeding kink, masturbating, fingering, alcohol, hate sex, oral (f. receiving), few toxic moments, blood mentions.

✰ this is part two to this series, please see part one under the title before reading this one. ✰

˗ˏˋseries spotify playlist´ˎ˗

His right hand gripped the wood of your headboard, using all his arm strength and using it as leverage fucking hard into you with each thrust, pushing himself as far as possible into your cunt wanting to break any barrier keeping him from actually pushing his dick into your cervix. 

his free hand gripped your hand, pressing it against the bedsheets, his fingers tightly squeezing your hand. 

Your lips attached to his shoulder, teeth sinking onto his skin at the pleasurable pain, your legs wrapping even tighter around his waist. 

“Oh fucckkkkkk,” your boyfriend moaned, his sweat that rolled down his face dropped onto your shoulder, “Your pussy feels so good baby girl, fuck.” his hand that held the headboard started to turn white from his death grip, and his veins popping out of his arm. 

The knot in your stomach snapped, your orgasm sending you even further into sexual ecstasy. Your teeth bite down harder onto his skin as your head spins, Jake letting out a groan of pleasure from your bite. The only sounds that could be heard in the bedroom were the sound of your skins connecting together, both your moans and the squeaking of your bed as Jake pounded into you with such force. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m cumming soon,” Jake groaned, his hard thrusts getting sloppy, the grip on the headboard weakening, “Gonna fill this pussy so full of my cum, ain’t that right princess?” You nodded, head falling back down onto the pillow, eyes darting to the purple bruise left on his skin from your bite and then locking eyes with him at his fucked out facial expression. 

“Hmmm going to fill you to the brim,” his thrusts slowed even more, Jake knew he was fixing to bust any moment, “Gonna breed the fuck out of you, gonna make me a daddy. fuck.” 

With one final thrust and one final moan that left his lips, his seed painted your gummy walls white, his hand leaving the headboard and snaked both arms underneath you and wrapped his hands on your shoulders, slowly rolling his hips with yours pumping himself so full inside you, using your shoulders as his leverage to help keep his cock deep within you chasing his own ecstasy. 

With no strength left in him, Jake drops his body onto yours, his face tucked into your neck, his hot breath sending chills down your spine and wet, sweaty hair pressing against your cheek, “I meant it when I said I couldn’t get enough of your pussy,”

You struggled to let out a giggle, loosening your legs from his waist, and tapping his back softly, “Trust me, Jake, I know. You’ve proved it more than enough.”

You felt his lips curl against your skin, “Fuck, I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much more, Sim Jaeyun.” 

With an exhausted groan, Jake pulled himself out of you, rolling over onto his back, chest heaving. You pushed yourself up, legs feeling like jelly, “I’m barely going to be able to walk tomorrow,” 

You could basically feel Jake’s shit-eating smirk as he chuckled, “Don’t tell me that, it’ll boost my ego and make me want to fuck you again.” With a roll of your eyes, you slid off your bed, collecting your clothes that were spread around the floor. 

Jake pushed himself up, eyes looking down at your bed, “Thank god we won’t ever have to have sex in this bed ever again.” You tried to not laugh, but it was true. Your good ole college bed was on its last leg enough as it was, and with the good, rough fucking Jake just gave you, it probably wouldn’t last another minute. You're surprised it lasted this long. It barely survives when Jake comes to visit you. 

“Maybe when you leave your dorm key tomorrow morning, you can complain about how the dorms need better beds for you girls, no wonder your roommate always sneaks off.” 

You glanced over at your roommate's bed, seeing how hers was in no better condition than yours. With a shrug, you slid your clothes back onto your body, “It’ll be her problem if she gets caught sneaking out.” 

Jake finally brings himself out of the bed, stretching his arms out then scoops his clothes up in one motion, “Yet you’ve never gotten caught sneaking me in.” Which was also true. Your college had strict dorm policies, no sneaking out and no sneaking in. Obviously, the rules didn’t mean shit to yourself or the other college students. Plus your roommate wasn’t a snitch. You’d sneak Jake in, she would sneak out and off with her boyfriend. It was a win-win. 

Jake wrapped his arms around you, kissing your neck, “You ready to finally be out of here?” You leaned into him, your eyes wandering around your dorm room. It was a bittersweet feeling for sure. But you’d be out of this shitty dorm and be surrounded by your brother and best friends again. The only place you’ve wanted to be since your winter vacation almost four months ago. You still couldn’t believe that Jay and Jake were able to convince you to transfer. It only took about a month to fully convince you, but you knew in the end it would be worth it. 

It was finally spring break, and what better time to transfer than right now? You finally nodded, “It'll be nice to finally be around you all twenty-four-seven again.” 

Jake’s heart warmed at the thought of finally having you in his bed every night instead of being a four-and-a-half-hour drive away. But the wait was worth it. He hugged you tighter, “Well, we have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow, let’s wash up and get some sleep, ya?”

A playful smile formed on your lips, “Dibs on the shower first!” you pushed your weight onto Jake, sending him back on the bed. 

Jake was quick to be back on his feet chasing after you to the bathroom with the biggest smile on his face, “That’s cheating Y/N!” 

After your play fight on who would shower first, you settled on taking one together, sharing that space with each other one last time. 

You brushed your teeth and popped a Plan B pill into your mouth, swallowing it down, gathering the rest of your things from the bathroom, and placing them into your duffle bag. Exhaustion hit you like a truck when you finally crawled into bed beside Jake, laying your head down onto his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. Sleep came quickly. 

You gave your roommate one last hug then slung your backpack over your arms and held one duffle bag between your hands. Jake walked back into the dorm, taking the last remaining duffle bag and slinging it over his shoulder, “All the boxes and suitcases are in the trunk, ready to hit the road?” 

You nodded, giving your roommate one last smile before walking out of the room for the last time. 

The dorm building was filled with busybodies. People pack up to head home for the week, some pack up to leave and never return(like yourself), some walk to and from their friend's dorm rooms, and some just sit out in the hallway just because. Ya know, your typical college dorm things. A lot of the girls you’ve grown to know over the last couple of years stopped to wish you well, but you knew it was to get one last look at your boyfriend. 

You held your tongue as you watched them all make flirty faces and say cute “We’ll miss seeing you around!” towards him, doing it all in front of you like you weren’t even there. 

Alas, all you could do was roll your eyes and keep walking forward. Your hands were filled with your bags anyway. Plus it’s not your fault your boyfriend is literally the sexiest man alive, you don’t blame the girls for looking. 

Shoving the last remaining things of yours into the trunk, it was finally time to go. Jake took the driver's seat in your car, his hand immediately going to your thigh and giving it a soft squeeze, a way to reassure you that everything was going to be okay. You had to admit, you were nervous. After leaving your home and spreading your wings, this college was all you knew. So it was hard, yes. But you were turning a new page, which was also exciting. 

You had fallen asleep on the way to the apartment, your new home. Being gently shaken awake by Jake, “Hey, baby, we’re home.” 

Jake got way too excited saying that. It just felt so right calling it our home. A place where you’ll always return to him at the end of the day. A place to eat, sleep, and live freely together. What more could he ask for?

You sleepily yawned, stretching your arms and legs out then finally getting out of your car. 

Jake opened the trunk, pulling each of your bags out one by one. 

You leaned in to help, wanting to get the process moving quicker. Because let’s be honest, the worst part about moving is the packing and unpacking. 

“Hey stinks!!” you cringed at the nickname, looking over to your right and seeing your brother hovering over the balcony railing waving his arms back and forth. 

“God, I hope he falls.” you mumbled, “So annoyed with that nickname.” 

Jake chuckled at your comment then glanced up at his best friend, “Get your ass down here Jay! We have a lot of shit to bring up! Get Hoon and Hee!”

Jay saluted him, turning on his heels and rushing back inside their shared apartment, returning with the ace and prince and forcing them down the stairs. Jay was the first to swoop you into a hug, “I’ve missed you!” 

You rolled your eyes but embraced your older brother, “It’s only been a couple months, Jongseong.”

“A couple of months too many!” Jay joked, rustling his hand in your hair. You shoved him away, quickly fixing your locks back into place. 

Sunghoon was next to pull you into a tight hug, “You’d think since he spent over twenty-one years with you he’d want nothing to do with you.” 

“No, tell me about it, Hoon,” you said, hugging him back tightly. Sunghoon’s hugs were always your favorite. You found so much peace within them.

Heeseung was the last to pull you into a hug, “Sup stinks!” 

You pinched his side, “I will not be tolerating that nickname anymore!” 

Jay shrugged his shoulders, wrapping his arm around your neck, “Deal with it, you’ll be living under MY roof now. I’ll call you stinks all I want.” You tried to fight your way out of your brother's grip, begging for any of the other three boys for help. But of course, they didn’t. 

Traitors. All of’em.

Jake finally started barking orders for everyone to grab some bags and haul them up into the apartment. You carried what you could, following behind Heeseung, “I’ll show you to Jake’s room, or well your room now too.” 

“Please for the love of GOD force him to keep his room clean now,” Sunghoon begged, “His socks smell.”

“So do yours?!?” Jake yelled up at his friend, the only response he got was the laughter of his friends and you. 

Jake rolled the sleeves up of his hoodie, cocking his head to the side, “Whose idea was it again for the four of us to move in together?” 

Jay grabbed another box from the trunk, “Ours. Unfortunately, the four of us are inseparable.”

Jake nodded in agreement, “Well, the five of us now.” 

Jay tried to not cringe at that fact, he’s still getting used to seeing you and his best friend together. Jay watched as his friend balanced a few boxes in his arms, the brown material yanking down the collar of his hoodie, revealing the bite mark you left on his shoulder last night. 

Jay groaned and rolled his eyes, “Really man?!” 

Jake narrowed his eyebrows, clearly confused as to why he was getting snapped at, “Bro, what?” 

Jay flicked the tender skin, “Can’t even fucking cover it up?” 

Oh, he’s still pissed that I’m fucking his baby sister.

Jake shrugged, “I can’t stop what your sister does during se—“

“No!! Stop!!” Jay quickly snapped, raising his hands up, “I don’t want to talk about your sex life.” 

Jake took this opportunity to tease, “Damn, what a shame, too bad you’ll be hearing it instead of talking about it.”

Jay’s face flushed with anger, “We aren’t playing these games, Sim Jaeyun. I’ll kick your ass so fast.” 

With a roll of his eyes and a slap on his friend's shoulder, Jake walked past him, “I was only teasing, let’s hurry up and get this stuff inside, I bet Y/N is dying for your cooking.” 

Jay pulled the rest of the bags into his hands, following beside his best friend, “When does she not want my cooking?” 

“Dude, sometimes it’s all she talks about.” 

Your brother chuckled, “She was spoiled with it growing up, plus I’m a damn good cook, what can I say?” 

Your spring break went by in a flash. That small week wasn’t enough to rest your mind after the move or get accustomed to your new home. You knew it would be a process, Jake reassured you that everything would fall perfectly into place once you’re used to the change. 

Obviously, he’s right. You just need more time to adjust. Mostly because you completely forgot that your new roommates like to party…

You stood in the corner of the living room, one hand twirling the liquid-filled plastic red cup in your hands, while your other hand was on Jake’s necklace, your fingers twisting the double-linked pendants. The music was too loud for your liking, the voices too loud, and way too many people surrounding just the living room itself was enough to make you feel more introverted than normal. You lifted the plastic cup to your lips, eyes wandering around the house. 

It’s so obvious this is a frat house. 

You wanted to leave, wanted to strangle your sibling for even suggesting attending this end-of-spring break party. You finished off your alcohol, eyes staring down at the last drop as it slid back down the cup. 

“You’re related to Park, aren’t you?” 

You lifted your eyes, making eye contact with the random man who decided to speak to you. He has a sweet smile, his eyes and body language proving he’s just asking a question, but you kept your guard up anyway. Pretty much head to toe, he was covered in Louis Vuitton. His fingertips brushed his light brown hair out of his eyes, his smile not fading even after your long waiting response.

“You’ll need to be more specific,” you said, setting the red cup on top of the fireplace beside you, “I know a lot of Parks.” 

“Jay,” he said, pointing his finger in the direction of the dining room table that sat on the far side of the living room where a cuppong game was being held. Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon all stood around your brother as he tossed the ping pong ball across the table, landing it in one of the cups with a slight splash of alcohol inside it. He and his friends cheering at their point. 

“You look just like him, have the same nose and jaw structure.” 

Fair, guess you couldn’t even try to get out of this one. The two of you did share the same nose and jawline. 

So you just nodded, “He’s my older brother.” 

“I could tell,” he laughed, taking a sip from the beer can in his hands, “Your facial expressions are the same too. I knew who you were from across the house.” 

You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a dis or a compliment. 

“He talked about you a lot in chem a few semesters also,” the man said, now standing beside you, leaning against the wall, “One proud big brother, that’s for sure.” You softly smiled, glancing back over at Jay as he whispered into Heeseung’s ear as he prepared to toss the ping pong ball. 

“Also, I apologize, how rude of me,” he turns his body towards you, extending his hand out, “I’m Shotaro,” 

You take your hand in his, giving a small shake, “I’m YN, but you probably already knew that, Shotaro.”

Shotaro chuckled, “Yeah, but it’s nice to finally put a name to the face.” You nodded, giving him a smile. 

Jake glances over at you at the right time to see Shotaro’s hand tangled in yours, “Why does Osaki have his hands on our girl?” Jake said, tapping Jay’s shoulder. 

Jay takes his eyes off the horrible job Sunghoon is doing at cup pong, “Looks like he’s just being friendly?” Jay shrugged it off, eyes going back to Sunghoon. Jake was in disbelief. 

This man right here. 

“Dude,” Jake scoffed. Jay, looking back at him with a confused look, raised his brows, “You almost killed me for just looking at your sister, but you’re perfectly fine letting Shotaro touch her?” 

“Jake, they shook hands,” Jay rolled his eyes, “He’s very clearly not trying to get in her pants like you were.” Okay, fair. Point taken. “He’s a sweet kid, probably just recognized her.” 

Jake knew that had to be it, but he couldn’t help but feel the pit of jealousy of some other man who wasn’t your brother or his friends, being that close to you. Without thinking, Jake’s legs were moving. 

“Jake! Where are you going?!” Heeseung yelled over the loud music but decided to shrug it off since Jake wasn’t listening. 

Your conversation with Shotaro kicked off well, listening as he talked about the party and the campus, and asking what brought you here to their college. 

“Well,” you shrugged, “Jay and—“ You were quickly interrupted by Jake’s arms being wrapped around your waist from behind, “There you are baby,” he said, dropping his face to your neck, and planting kisses on the skin. 

Shotaro quickly looked away, taking the last sip of his alcohol. He knew Jake had to have been interested in someone since he randomly stopped showing up to parties and would disappear during the weekends. Shotaro wasn’t close to Jake and his friend group, only ever really spoke to them during classes or in passing on campus or at parties. 

Shotaro should’ve put two and two together that the person Sim Jake was interested in were you. If there’s one thing he did know about you and your friends, was that you five all grew up together. Of course, it made sense you’d be with one of Jay’s friends. Jake was just the last person on that list in his mind. 

“Jake,” you hissed, shoving your shoulder into his jaw.

With a soft groan, he removed his lips from your neck, his eyes darting over to Shotaro, “I see you met Osaki, he’s a good kid.” 

Shotaro tried to suppress himself from giving Jake an annoyed look, clearly hearing and picking up the attitude behind his tone. You, on the other hand, didn’t catch it. 

“Yes, he’s been really sweet so far,” Shotaro smiled at you, giving a nod, “We were just talking about how you and Jay convinced me to move.” 

Ah, of course, he was part of the reason she moved here. Should have guessed it. 

“You’ll enjoy it here,” he smiled, eyes shooting daggers at Jake, “It’s a really good college for sure.” 

Jake narrowed his eyes. Does this guy have a problem with me?

“Anyways,” Shotaro said, glancing down at his watch, “Sungchan is probably wondering where I am.” You gave him a soft smile and nodded, not wanting to keep him from his friends much longer, mostly now that Jake was at your side. Once Shotaro was out of sight, Jake released his arms from you. 

“Want to tell me why you were acting so jealous just now?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and you stared up at your boyfriend. 

Jake sighed, “Was I that obvious?” 

“Hmm” You hummed, “It was kinda cute though, at least you didn’t throw a punch this time.” 

Jake chuckled at the memory of the few punches he threw at Yeonjun that one night at the bar, “You’re right, I’ve come a long way since then.” 

You stood on your tippy toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a quick peck on the lips, “But there isn’t any need to be jealous, Sim Jaeyun, he was just being nice.” 

Jake slowly nodded, his fingers twisting the belt loops on your jeans, “Hard to not be jealous when my girlfriend has the sexiest ass in this whole place,” he whispered, his hands leaving the loops to cup your ass tightly. You shyly pull yourself away from him, looking around to see if anyone saw. 

Before you could even react, Jake had his hand in yours, pulling you off towards the hallway, “Hey, wait, where are we going?” 

“Either a bedroom or bathroom,” he smirked, “I need to make out with my pretty girlfriend in a more comfortable space.” You tried to hide the smile by thinning your lips in a line, you had to admit it was kinda hot with the way he was pulling you behind him, biting his lower lip, and showing everyone at this party his intentions. 

Who knew you’d enjoy being led into the closest bathroom this much. Liking the way Jake closed and locked the door behind you and lifted your body on top of the counter. Loving how pretty he looked with his lust-filled eyes, sliding his hands up your skirt and pulling your panties down as he sank to his knees, hands spreading your legs and lips attaching to your heat. Your hand attached to his hair, his eyes never leaving yours as he rubbed his tongue against your clit, two fingers slowly sliding into your cunt.

You threw your head back, biting your lip to suppress your moans. But Jake’s fingers pushed into you faster, his tongue flicking your clit faster and you failed to suppress any longer.

Your moans drowned out the music from the party, becoming the only thing Jake’s ears were able to focus on. His free hand palms himself through his jeans in the perfect rhythm of his fingers sliding in and out of you.

Jake was so in love with your pussy. You just tasted so fucking good, he couldn’t get enough. Palming himself wasn’t working anymore and struggled to unzip his jeans fast enough to pull out his pulsing cock from the clothing, his thumb spreading the precum over the tip but that also wasn’t enough. Jake lifted his hand to your face, pulling you down to look at him, his precum from his fingers spreading on your cheeks. “Spit,” he demanded, shivers sending down your spine from his breath hitting your heat.

You did as you were told, Jake losing himself even more at watching the way your saliva fell from your lips into his hand, “Good girl, so fucking dirty for me.”

You watched as Jake rubbed your spit over his cock as he moaned into your pussy, his lips attaching back to your clit, sucking on it gently as he slowly pumped himself, his fingers moving again inside you, following the same rhythm as the hand on his cock. Jake fucking loved the way your spit mixed with his precum as he fucked into his hand, it was the next best thing to having your mouth wrapped around him.

As much as you enjoyed the view and the feeling Jake was giving you, you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. The knot in your belly threatening to snap. You rocked your hips against his face and fingers, “Jake…”

He moaned at his name being called from your lips, moving his fingers faster in you and sucking your clit harder, he knew you were fixing to cum, “Cum for me baby, make a mess on my tongue. Cum together with me.” Jake fucked into his hand harder and faster, feeling his own climax approaching. You couldn’t hold on much longer, letting the knot snap. Jake groaned a second later, cum sliding down his hand.

He pulled his fingers from your cunt, tongue licking your juices from his fingers then spread your legs further apart, his tongue pushing inside you, licking up the remaining of your cum that wasn’t on his fingers. You laid your back against the mirror, head spinning. Jake appeared in your vision, his hands reaching behind you and lifting you up and off the counter, pulling your panties back up over your hips and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “Let’s return to the party, everyone might be looking for us.”

-

The alarm clock buzzed from across the room, forcing you to lift your legs and place your feet flat against your boyfriend's back, using all your strength to push him off the edge of the bed with a massive thud. Jake let out a groan from pain, “What the fuck YN,” his sleepy raspy voice said, pushing himself to his knees and leaning his sleepy body onto the edge of the bed, eyes softly closing again. 

“Turn it off,” you mumbled. 

“Hmm?” 

“Turn off the damn alarm Sim Jaeyun!” 

“Okay, fuck. Jesus fucking Christ!” Jake stumbled his way to his dresser, slapping the off button for the alarm and silence finally settled in the room. 

You softly smiled as you rolled yourself in the middle of the bed, pulling the covers over your body. Jake stared down at you, his eyes raging. He walked to the end of the bed, gripping the bed sheets and yanking them off your body and the bed. 

You quickly sat up, your own pit of rage filling your eyes, “What the fuck?!” 

“If I have to be up, so do you!” Jake wasn’t just going to get up and get ready for the first day back to class and let you snooze until it was time for you to leave. 

Granted, he was going to let you sleep peacefully until it was time for you to head off to class, but after your stunt, nah! You won’t know any peace. You glared at him, fuck I should have kicked his ass harder.

Jake took your glare as a challenge, his cock softly twitching at seeing you angry with him. 

You’ve had fights before, sure. But Jake has never seen you so sleepy and pissed off at him in one emotion. He has to admit, it was kinda hot. With the way your tank top strap was sliding down your shoulder, the tank fitting so snug against your frame, and your nipples poking through the thin white fabric. The tank was short enough that it stopped right above your belly button and your night shorts rested perfectly against your hips as the silk flowered fabric bunched at the crease of your thigh. 

Jake thanked any god who was listening for giving him such a devil disguised as an angel. Your eyes widened as you watched Jake slowly crawl onto the bed, his bare chest softly glowing from the rising sunlight through his curtains. 

One of Jake’s hands found your shoulder, slowly pushing you back down onto the bed, his other hand touching your thigh, his fingers tracing up and stopping at the hems of your tank and pushing underneath it. His fingers grazed your nipple before cupping your breast, his face now inches away from yours. 

“Jake, you have class…” you whispered, realizing he’d be late if you pushed any further into his sexual antics. 

“Shhh,” his lips connected to your jawline, moving down to your neck. The hand that was on your shoulder was now down at your core, his fingers softly rubbing your folds, “It’ll be a quickie, I won’t be late.” 

His fingers were now sliding your shorts and panties to the side and spreading your cunts lips wide, “Please baby,” 

The way his voice was begging you made you completely soaked. How could you tell him no? Your fingers looped into his sweatpants and pulled them along with his boxers down. 

—

You pulled your wet hair behind your ears as you rushed into the kitchen trying to quickly slide your shoes on, your backpack sliding down your shoulder. Your brother stood at the counter, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes were glued to the toaster. 

Jay heard you open the fridge and pull a water bottle out, “What was the ruckus this morning about?” 

“Hmm?” you hummed at your sibling, confused about what he was talking about. 

The toast jumped from the toaster, Jay quickly pulled it onto a plate, “I heard you fighting with Jake earlier, can you pass me the butter packets from the fridge?” 

You nodded, pulling it from the fridge and handing him a couple, “His alarm was going off, so I kicked him out of the bed to turn it off.” 

Jay chuckled, spreading the butter onto the toast, “So that’s what the thump was, his body hitting the floor.”

Jake left about an hour ago, leaving you to quickly get ready for your classes alone. Due to the quickie you shared earlier, the bedsheets were a mess and you had to shower to clean yourself up. Cleaning the bedsheets came first, and then your shower second, and you still had a fifteen-minute drive to the campus. You were close to running late. 

You took notice of how Jay finished buttering the toast, quickly reaching around him and snatching it from his hands. “Stinks, what the fuck?” he hissed, watching his breakfast being shoved into your mouth. 

“I am running late, I need something to eat!” you said with a mouthful of the delicious toast. Your brother watched you grab your keys and run out the door. 

He sighed, “Yeah, I also have to eat before class,” he mumbled, “I’m the one who wanted to be closer to my baby sister, her stealing my food was bound to happen.” With a roll of his eyes, Jay pulled another piece of bread from the bag and slid it into the toaster. 

—

You walked quickly across campus, your new schedule in your hands.  You didn’t realize how big this campus really was. The last time you were here was when Jay was first moving here. You and your parents helped him pack up and move into his dorm room, but you put into any thought that driving to the dorms and walking across campus to find the building you needed were two separate things. 

Makes it worse that you and your roommates live off campus, forcing you to park in the student parking even further from where you needed to be. You wanted to call Jake and ask for help but knew you could not due to him already being in class. 

You knew Sunghoon and Heeseung left the apartment way before Jake did, but you still didn’t know their schedules either. Jay was still at the apartment due to not having class until a bit later. 

You stopped walking, pulling your phone from your jean pocket and scrolling to your roomie group chat, thumbs pressing against the screen as quickly as possible asking for literally anyone for help. 

“You look lost,” a familiar voice called to you. You glanced up to see Shotaro, and a friend standing beside him. 

“I’ll catch you later man,” Shotaro smiled at his friend whom you assumed was Sungchan, their hands connecting quickly for a shake as Sungchan walked off. Shotaro gave you a warm smile as he walked over to you, hands sliding into his jogger's pockets. 

You pouted, “Is it that obvious that I am lost?” 

Shotaro shook his head, looking off into the distance, “Nah, not at all.” 

You pinched his bicep, earning a soft laugh from him. 

“Please help me,” you pouted again, your lower lip curving downward. 

You looked way too cute for Shotaro to not help you. Plus better it be him than some random guy on campus. Jay and Jake would definitely not appreciate some random dude looking at you. Shotaro reached his hand out, “Let me see your schedule.” You handed it to him, watching as his eyes scanned the paper. 

“Medical Science student, huh?” he asked looking back up at you with an even bigger smile, “We have the same major.” 

Hearing those words made you relax completely. Knowing you had someone to help guide you around that you were comfortable with made this all the easier. 

He handed your schedule back to you, “It’s your lucky day, I am actually heading to that building now.” He tilted his head towards the direction of the building, signaling you to follow him. 

As you walked side by side, you both talked about your majors. Shotaro was a year above Heeseung and almost done with college as a whole. It didn’t surprise you at how smart he was or how passionate he was with his manor. It definitely made him more cute in your eyes. 

Shotaro enjoyed talking with you. You were a breath of fresh air from his friends and other classmates. It was really nice. He held the door of the building open for you, “Who do you have for genetics again? I can’t remember?” he asked, leaning over your shoulder to take a look at your schedule, “And what room number?” 

You hummed as you looked at the paper, “It looks like Mr. Lockin and in room 553.” 

“That’s upstairs,” he pointed towards the stairs, “My class is fortunately down here and fixing to start so I can’t walk you the rest of the way.” 

You smiled at him, waving your hand, “No that is perfectly fine! You’ve helped me a lot already, thank you Shotaro.” 

He gave you a nod and turned to walk down the hallway. You barely made it up three steps before the sound of his feet running echoed through the building, “Wait!” 

You turned and looked at him, the biggest smile on his face, “Taro.” 

You raised a brow, “Huh?” 

“Taro. You may call me Taro for short.” 

“You got it, Taro.” You gave him a wink and continued up the steps.

Shotaro watched and you disappeared onto the second floor before turning on his heels and going to his classroom. 

Thankfully for you, most of your classes were in this science building. You had roughly thirty minutes between your genetics and molecular biology classes which also thankfully were on the second floor. You used the restroom quickly and got a bag of chips from the vending machine before walking into your molecular biology class and to your surprise, saw Taro sitting by the window. You dropped your bag of chips onto the table, sitting down across from him. 

Taro tilted his head in his hands looking away from the window, his famous soft smile showing up, “Well look at that. Guess we have a class together after all.” 

“I am actually really glad for that,” you said nervously, reaching your hand into your chip bag, “Since my brother and friends all have different majors, I kinda already figured I wouldn’t have any classes with them.”

Taro’s smile faded a bit, she was scared to be alone. 

“At least you have me now, as a friend, of course, who also just happens to share your major. You won’t be alone, YN.” His words today knew exactly how to make you feel better. How did you get so lucky to make a friend like him and so quickly too? You offered him some of your chips, which he gladly took. 

You both giggled at the small awkwardness, your eyes darting outside the window, “This campus is pretty.” 

Taro met your gaze out the window and nodded, “I did tell you at the party the other day you would love this place.” 

You nodded in agreement, “It’s actually so…” 

Taro looked back at you to see why you stopped short in talking, seeing how saddened you looked now. 

“YN?” he called for you, his eyes darting back out the window, searching frantically for what you were looking at until they placed on what it was. 

Jake was standing on the sidewalk. It looked as if he just come from the Computer Sciences building. But Taro already knew that wasn’t what caught your eye in the first place. It was the two females that stood at his sides. One had their hand on his shoulder, while the other stood completely way too close to him. Jake thankfully wasn’t touching either of them. One hand was attached to his backpack strap, while the other was in his hoodie’s pocket. 

What angered Taro was the shit-eating grin Jake wore. And the fact he hasn’t removed the female's hand from his shoulder. Taro looked back at you, seeing the confusion writing all over your face as well as how glossy your eyes were starting to become. Taro bit his lip, debating on whether he should tell you the behaviors and reputation your boyfriend has here or let you figure it out on your own. 

He was praying that Jake has changed and left that playboy shit in the past. It was only the first day back on campus since spring break. After the winter break ended, Jake stopped attending parties, was going to your campus every weekend to visit you, and made b lines between his classes to hurry home to what he assumed would call and talk to you. Taro could also hope and pray that all that playboy shit was gone now that you’re on the same campus as him. But from what it looked like down below, nothing has changed so far. 

Eventually, Jake gave both ladies a nod, and slowly removed the female’s hand from his shoulder, giving a small wave before walking away, and pulling his phone from his pocket. A second later, your phone buzzed in your pocket, taking your eyes off him and to your device, seeing his name ID. 

You blinked a few times to dry up your almost tears, thumbs quickly sending a reply back to your boyfriend. 

Taro sighed, “Everything okay?” He wasn't sure exactly what to say, or what to even do to help lift your spirits, but he figured just being here for you would be enough for the moment. 

You nodded, “Yeah, it was just Jake. He just asked how my first day was going so far. Told him it was going well.” 

It broke his heart seeing you like this. But again, he knew he couldn’t metal in your relationship. 

Taro reached across the table, fingers grabbing your wrist, “Don’t let it bother you,” You just nodded. That’s when he noticed Jake’s necklace resting at your collarbones. For as long as Shotaro has known your brother and his friends, Jake never once removed that necklace from his neck. So the fact that it was now wrapped around yours, had to be proof Jake has changed. Just wait until his whores see the very necklace tied to you. 

“You’re prettier than them anyways,” Taro said, earning a small smile on your lips.

“What are you even saying?” you giggled, hiding your face between your hands. 

“I’m saying what I’m saying,” he laughed, “You’re prettier than those girls. Jake is a very lucky man.” Once again Taro knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. 

The professor walked in, signaling the start of class. 

—

The apartment was quiet except for the sounds of your and Jake’s lips connecting together. You both cuddled on the couch, arms wrapped around one another as Jake’s hand slowly slid up and down your back. Both your jeans and underwear are laid on the floor under the coffee table and a blanket covers your lower halves. Your right leg was wrapped around his waist, and he slowly pumped himself a few times inside of you to keep himself hard. 

It was an exhausting day for you both and all either of you wanted was to feel connected, and what better way would that be than to softly make out on the couch while you cock warm him?

There was something just so sexy about feeling him so deep inside you this way. Slowly rubbing your tongues together as your fingers twirled in his hair and his hands rubbed your back. 

Anytime you and Jake have cock warmed before, it always leads to soft sensual sex, but this time felt so different. You and Jake both didn’t feel the need to have sex right now, just wanting each other's presence and closeness. 

Jake only moved when he felt himself getting soft, slowly bucking his hips to feel the friction of your walls around him. Jake absolutely loved cock warming. Like he couldn’t even begin to explain how much he loved it. Just there was something about the way your cunt hugged him perfectly. 

“I love you,” Jake whispered, placing his forehead against yours, catching his breath. 

Your hand slid down from his hair and cupped his face, “I love you so much.”

You were happy for this moment, after seeing those girls around Jake and needing Shotaro to cheer you up, this was exactly what you needed to end your day. Thankfully none of the roomies were around. Leaving you and Jake completely alone. 

Heeseung was at work and Sunghoon had hockey practice and your brother? Hell if you knew. It was rare for you and Jake to have the apartment alone. There was always someone else home, or Jake was at work, or the four boys were all working leaving you alone. You still needed to find a job, but finding one in an unfamiliar place was hard. Which made you grateful for Jay not forcing you to get a job so quickly. 

Jake attached his lips back to yours, kissing you so sweetly and softly. That was until the front door busted open. 

You and Jake froze, staring into each other's eyes with the fear of how you were fixing to get caught on the couch. You knew it was your brother, it was too early for the other two to come home. Jake quickly pulled the blanket over your heads, “He’s going to fucking kill me.” 

It was one thing for Jay to know Jake was banging his little sister, but it’s another thing to get caught doing it. Trust, Jake learned that the hard way the first time. You went to shush your boyfriend, only for the shuffling of feet down the hall to stop you. Because it wasn’t just Jay’s feet, there was another pair. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jay breathed out, “Such a slut for this cock, ya?” 

A female's voice hummed and followed the sound of their lips smacking together, feet continuing to shuffle across the floor. You and Jake stared at each other wide-eyed. Ain’t no fucking way my brother just brought a girl home. 

You both sat still until the sound of your brother's bedroom door opened and closed. 

“What the fuck?!?” Jake mouthed, slowly pulling the blanket down from over your heads, seeing the coast was clear. Jake slowly pulled out of you, letting you get up first to pull your panties and jeans back over your hips as Jake did the same. The two of you sat in silence at hearing your brother in the other room. Jake found this way too hilarious while you were completely embarrassed. 

“Is this how my roommate felt when she’d return to the dorms but-“

“But heard me fucking you into the next dimension? Yep. More than likely.” Which is exactly why Jake found this so hilarious. It was just coming back at him full circle. 

And then the apartment fell silent again and Jay’s door opened slowly. Jay turned the corner of the wallway, stopping dead in his tracks at seeing the two of you sitting on the couch. 

“Whatchu doing in there buddy?” Jake teased. You thinned your lips into a line to stop yourself from laughing. Okay, maybe Jake was right in this being a little funny. 

The only thing Jay had on was his basketball shorts, his hand rubbing on his bare chest while the other ran through his dyed blonde hair. 

“Uhhh…” was all your brother could let out. His thumb pointed behind him to his bedroom, “How long have you guys been home?” 

Jake crossed his arms, a smirk playing so wide on his lips, “We were home WAY before you man.” 

Jay’s eyes looked between you and Jake, “Where?” 

“On the couch, the entire time.” 

Jay narrowed his eyes, “But I didn’t see either of you.” 

Jake grabbed the blanket you both were using earlier in his hand and lifted it up. 

“On the fucking couch?!” Jay snapped, his embarrassed expression leaving and replacing it with anger. 

“Oh no no,” you chimed in this time, “We weren’t doing anything, just cuddling until you and…whoever came home.” And his embarrassment came back. Oh, Jake was loving this. It wasn’t every day seeing Jay get like this. 

See, all four boys were used to each other bringing females in and out of the apartment. But they had rules set in place to keep moments like this from happening. The major rule was to make sure no one else would be in the apartment. Shoot a text, look for their cars in the parking lot of the apartment complex, double check work and sports schedules. 

Of course, they were allowed to sneak their quick fucks in while everyone was at home, but it at to be while everyone was sleeping, and not a peep could be heard. The rules didn’t change once you moved in, it would just have been harder for the other three boys to bring home a girl since you were pretty much always at the apartment. 

“Seongie!!~” the girl Jay brought home sang, her appearing behind him wearing his tee shirt and sweatpants. She also stopped short, seeing that others were home. And oh man was this rich. The girl Jay brought home was the female from earlier today who had her hand on Jake’s shoulder. 

“Naurrr way!” Jake clapped his hands, his Australian accent coming out thicker with his excitement, “I didn’t think you’d work this fast girl.” She half smiled, hiding behind your brother. 

You couldn’t hold in your chuckle, seeing this made you feel ten times better about earlier. All those girls wanted was your brother's attention and used your boyfriend to get it. If this situation couldn’t get any better, Sunghoon trailed into the apartment, his duffle bag and skates hanging from his hand while his hockey stick was clenched in the other, hair completely a mess and sweaty from his helmet. 

He kicked his shoes off at the door to turn around and see the sight before him. Jay, who was basically naked standing in the hall leading to their bedrooms with a girl he had no idea who she was. You and Jake sat on the couch, arms crossed and smirks on your faces. 

Sunghoon couldn’t help but look between the four of you, fully understanding what happened, “What the actual fuck,” was all he could sigh out, being too tired to fight at the moment. 

“I ummm…I’m going to change and leave,” the female said, quickly making her way to Jay’s room and leaving back in the clothes she came from and out the door. 

Jake had to bite his lips to keep from laughing, mostly at Sunghoon’s annoyed and tired expression. 

“We have rules,” Sunghoon mumbled with a groan, hanging his head low. 

“I know that!” Jay rolled his eyes, “I didn’t see either of their cars parked in front and assumed no one was home.” 

“Could have texted our group chat,” Jake said, raising his hands in a shrug, clearly still teasing the older. 

Your brother had enough, turning around and walking back to his room with a slam of his door. Damn, he must be very embarrassed. 

Sunghoon sleepily dragged his feet to the hallway, dropping his bag in front of his bedroom door, “Has anyone eaten yet?” he asked loud enough for Jay to hear him in his room, opening the door and throwing his duffle bag and skates by his dresser, “Can we order take out?” 

“Already on it!” Jay yelled from his room. 

“Good,” Sunghoon mumbled, now seating himself in the solo recliner chair, propping his feet up, “Least he could do for getting caught fucking.” 

Jake and you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore. It was funny how the tables turned. 

—

The weekend finally came and instead of having a relaxing bath with a book in your hands to celebrate your surviving your first official week at your new college, you found yourself standing between your brother and boyfriend with Sunghoon and Heeseung standing in front of you, loud music filling your ears and lights from the club glowing from every angle. 

You have to always remind yourself that these boys lived a different life than you. They were all popular on campus and from what you remember seeing on Jay’s Instagram stories almost every weekend was him and the three stooges at some party, club, or bar. You should have expected nothing would have changed after you moved in. Yeah, Jake stopped attending these events after winter break to travel all those hours just to see you on the weekends, but now that you’re living under the same roof, it only made sense that the parties would continue. 

“Let’s get fucked up!” Heeseung cheered, handing everyone a shot glass.

“We all have work in the morning shit head!” Sunghoon yelled over the music, “Not too fucked up tonight!” 

Heeseung shrugged him off, holding the glass up, “CHEERS BITCHES!” 

You all clanked the glasses and swallowed the liquid. 

“ANOTHER!” Heeseung shouted, slapping his shot glass onto the bar counter, “Another round for me and my friends please!” he asked the bartender, who widely smiled and replied with a ‘got it, boss’. Heeseung handed the new round of shots to everyone, clanking the glasses and downing the liquid. 

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 

You could tell Jake was starting to feel the buzz by the way he sloppily wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into your neck, “You’re the sexiest woman in this whole place.” he said, placing kisses up your neck and to your cheek. You leaned your head into him as he swayed you both back and forth to the beat of the music. 

Sunghoon ordered another round of shots. Didn’t he say to not get fucked up? 

Jake released you from his hold and took the shot down quickly. He snaked one arm around you, his hand sliding into the back pocket of your jeans, giving your ass a soft squeeze. 

The boys started talking about how their week back to class was shit and who was in which class and who had which professor. You tuned it out, being that you were the only one who wasn’t studying the same thing as they were. The four of them really took not being separated at the hip seriously. You let your eyes wander around the club, recognizing a few people you’ve seen on campus or in your classes, barely tuned into the people around you, clearly now feeling buzzed yourself. 

“Jakey!” 

Who the fuck. 

“Hey!” Jake answered back, darting your eyes at the female now standing in front of your boyfriend, “It’s been a minute!” You clocked the way he was being friendly and the way she was batting her eyes at him. 

Her hand reached up and touched his shoulder, “It’s nice seeing you back out at parties again!” You raised your brow, scooting yourself closer to Jake, your bodies now touching and Jake’s arm around you pulling you in tighter. 

“Yeah, I took a little break for a bit.” he chuckled. Took a break? Is coming to see me called taking a break??

She rubbed her hand on his shoulder, “What to hit the dance floor with me?” she blinked her eyes up at him, hinting she wanted more than just some dance. 

“Who are you again?” you asked, stretching the side of your head. 

Jay looked over at the perfect time to see the annoyed look on your face and the girl's hand on Jake’s shoulder. 

Oh, shit. 

The girl giggled, but not in a giggling cute way, but the bitch who do you think I am kinda way. “And you?” she scoffed, eyeing the way Jake had his arm wrapped around you. 

“I’m his girlfriend.” 

Jay felt his heart sink, slowly turning his body to fully face the three of you. He’s never seen you get like this over someone and needed to be ready for anything. Your tone of voice was enough for Jay to sober up. 

The female scoffed, eyeing between Jake and yourself, “Wait you’re serious?” 

Jake sighed, squeezing your hip, “Yeah, this is YN, my girlfriend.” Oh, you didn’t like the way he said that. 

Jay stepped in after that, “Yeah our Jake finally settled down!” he said with a laugh, removing her hand from Jake’s shoulder and giving him a stern look. 

“That’s a first for Sim Jaeyun,” she baffled, turning on her heels and walking away, “Guess I have to find another person to satisfy me now.”

“Excuse me?!” you snapped, taking a step forward.

“Woah woah woah,” your brother stepped in front of you, hands on your shoulders and Jake’s index finger looped into your jeans back pocket to pull you back, “She’s not worth it, YN, breathe…please.” 

You took a deep breath, eyes darting to your boyfriend, “Satisfy her? How many times?” 

“Baby, what?” Jake asked, his fingers tightening on your pants and pulling you closer to him. 

“How many times have you fucked her, Jake?” 

Heeseung choked on his beer, coughing at the sudden drop of that question. 

Jake stared into your eyes, trying to find the right words, “Only a few times?” 

“Only a few times?” you raised your brow, “The way she was talking didn’t seem like a few times.” 

Jake didn’t want to talk about his past sex life before you. It was the past for a reason. You were all that mattered now, none of the other women in this world mattered or compared to you. If he wasn’t already so buzzed from the alcohol in his system he’d be able to explain everything so much better to you. 

“Hey,” Sungchan said, nodding his head behind Shotaro, “Isn’t that yo girl over there?” 

Taro raised a brow in confusion but turned around nonetheless to see who he could be speaking of, his eyes landing on you. You looked upset and hurt. Taro could see the way you spoke to Jake and how he answered back that something was clearly wrong. And Shotaro could only guess what the problem could be. He shrugged, turning back around in his chair and tilting his beer bottle to his lips, “She ain’t my girl.” 

“That’s right because Sim has her wrapped around him.” Taro clenched his jaw at that, taking another look at you and Jake and the frustration that was not only on your face but also on Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon as the five of you talked amongst each other. “You like her, don’t you?” Sungchan asked, nudging Taro’s shoulder. 

Shotaro wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He thought you were cute, and funny and enjoyed being around you, sure. But you are a taken woman, and who was he to step in the middle of that just because he may or may not have feelings towards you? You are a friend, and that’s where it’s sitting. 

“I don’t,” Taro finally answered, taking another sip of his beer, eyes not leaving you. 

Eventually, Jay placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling you towards him and walking you away from the others and out the doors of the club. What a great big brother. 

Jake sat down on the bar stool and cupped his face between his hands. The world was spinning and the thought of you being pissed at him made the world spin that much faster, making him dizzy. 

“Man,” Sunghoon said, tapping his shoulder, “Should wear a sign that says “I am a taken man” above your head so everyone else gets the point. But on a real note, you have to make it better known to your past hookups. You did kinda just drop off the face of the earth to everyone but us after winter break.” 

Jake knew his friend was just teasing him, but Hoon’s words still stung nevertheless. He also knew Hoon was right, he did just stop showing up to parties and was even skipping class on most days just to spend extra time with you. The last thing Jake wanted was his past life to mix with his current one. And he knew it needed to change. 

You spent that night cuddled up against your brother. Laying your head on his back and arm wrapped over him, his hand held yours tight to his chest. Jay always knew what to do to help make you feel better. Your very first major breakup, he sat on the floor at your bedside and held your hand the entire night until you stopped crying and fell asleep. 

He used to tell you all the time that he remembers the first memory of you that his little brain was able to recall. Jay said you both were sitting on the couch with your mother. She held Jay as he held you. He remembers just sitting there, looking down at you, and his whole life changing even at that young age. You were so innocent and small and needed protection, the protection that only a big brother could give. And that was the day he swore to protect that smile he holds so dear. You are everything to him, after all. 

And Jay kept his word. Always being there with every heartbreak, every bad grade on a test, always right there ready to fight any bully that would pick on you, when you almost fell off the old trampoline as kids and Jay broke his arm in the process of catching you before you fell even though he’s the one who crashed arm first into the ground. All in the name of keeping you safe. 

You woke up that morning still lying on Jay’s back, his hand holding onto your pinky finger, slight snores leaving his lips. 

The apartment was quiet for the most part except for the shuffling of Heeseung and Sunghoon’s feet in the kitchen as they got ready for work and walked out the front door. You lifted your head and peeked over your brother's shoulder, seeing that it was now nine a.m. Jake should already be at work, Heeseung and Sunghoon just left, and Jay had to be awake in the next thirty minutes for work as well. Meaning you’d have the apartment to yourself today. 

Thirty minutes flew by and Jay’s alarm was blasting. You quickly pretended to still be asleep, not ready for him to ask you about last night just yet. You felt him shift in the bed, slowly release your pinky from his hand, and slide off the bed. He dragged his bare feet around his room, opening and closing his drawers and walking out of his room. The next sound you heard was the shower being run and Jay whistling his favorite song. Soon enough he was back in his room grabbing his phone and work shoes. He pulled the blanket up to your chin, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“I love you, little sis,” he whispered, “Don’t be too hard on yourself or Jake, things take time.” You tried hard to not move, to not jump into his arms and cry into his chest and beg him to not go to work today, that you needed your brother here. He always knew the right things to say. Jay pulled a few more strands of your hair behind your ear then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

Once you heard the front door close, you slowly sat up. Feeling the weight of pain from last night really hit you now that you were alone. You slowly slid out of your brother's bed, carefully making it for him and exiting his room. You walked down the hall and into the living room, stopping abruptly to see Jake hunched over on the couch. His hands were on the back of his neck and elbows on his knees as his head hung low, body rocking back and forth. 

Jake was still in the clothes he wore last night, his shoes kicked under the coffee table with pillows and blankets thrown on the other side. It was obvious your boyfriend slept on the couch instead of your shared bed. 

“Why are you home?” as much as you didn’t want to talk to him right now you knew you couldn’t avoid him either. You’d eventually have to talk about it. Your voice startled him, him quickly bringing his hands to his chest, ripping the shirt. 

Jake took a few deep breaths before answering you, “I called out of work,” you could tell by his voice how tired he was, that he hadn’t slept at all actually. 

Your heart broke for him, seeing him like this, “You could have slept in the bed…” you said softly. 

Jake was quick to shake his head as he slouched on the couch, “How could I have slept in our bed without you? How could I sleep when you weren’t there with me?” Well, it doesn’t look like you’ve gotten any sleep either way. 

You looked down at your bare feet, debating on either returning to your brother’s room or sitting on the couch with your boyfriend. 

“Baby, please,” You looked up at him, seeing the way his eyes were starting to gloss over, pleading with you, “It was only a couple of times and I cut her off so fast and way before winter break even happened.” 

Which was true. Jake, putting it truthfully, got bored with her. Before you, Jake couldn’t stand clingy bitches and that’s exactly what she was. Only hit him up when some other dude couldn’t hit it right and would stick around hours afterward trying to get to know his friends and cling to him the whole day. It was exhausting. Jake only used the sex as a way to keep himself busy if he was being honest. It never meant anything. Nothing meant anything until he met you. 

“I don’t give a damn about her, never did. You are all that matters. You’re everything to me. Baby, I can’t take you being mad at me it fucking kills me.” You looked away from him, feeling maybe you were too harsh on him. It was all before the two of you anyway. Your fingers traced his necklace, dropping it to your collarbone. Your feet started moving towards him. 

Jake sat up straight, arms reaching out for you as you climbed into his lap. His arms found their home wrapped around your waist as yours did around his neck. He nuzzled his face into your neck, kissing the skin and softly whispering “I am so so sorry baby,” in between the kisses and wrapping his arms even tighter around you. 

Jake was a mess and his lack of sleep was making him even more emotional about this situation. He tried to sleep, he really did. But the bed felt too big with your body missing. Even the couch felt too big without you pressing against him with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heart beating to put him to sleep. 

Jake’s hold on you got tighter and a small hiccup escaped from his lips. “Hey, no no,” you whispered, pulling back far enough to cup his face and place your forehead to his, thumbs rubbing his cheeks, “I am right here, it’s okay.” 

“I can’t do this without you,” he said, biting his lip, “You’re everything.” 

You lifted his face up for his lips to meet yours, kissing him softly, “I love you.” 

Jake deepened the kiss, his hands now resting at your hips, “Baby, I am so stupid in love with you.” 

You smiled against his lips, feeling his fingers slip under your shirt. You felt him get hard underneath you, giggling as he pulled your shirt over your head. He was obviously tired. His kisses were sloppily and the way he ran his hands over your body so softly was another tell that he was barely holding on. Exhaustion hit Jake so hard after you crawled into his arms, but feeling your touch was enough to make him hard and want you badly regardless of how tired he was from his sleepless night. 

“Babe,” you whispered as his fingers unclasped your bra, disregarding it to the floor, hands returning to cup your breasts, “You’re exhausted, you need rest.” 

“Shhh,” he hushed, thumbs slowly rubbing over your sensitive nipples, “Have sex with me, I want to feel connected to you right now.” 

You smiled at him, your fingers reaching for the buttons of his jeans, unclasping it and helping him slide them down to the floor, lifting yourself up and removing your own shorts and panties. Jake lined himself up with your entrance, letting out soft moans as you slid down on him filling you up completely. You slowly rolled your hips against him, his gasps from the pleasure sending chills down your body. 

Soft makeup sex became one of his favorite types of sex. The intimacy of it made his heart feel so warm and full. You wanted to make him feel good, mostly after the night you clearly could see he had. You lifted yourself and softly bounced on his cock, his hands squeezing your hips and biting his bottom lip. Jake’s mind was lost in a daze at the sensation, his eyes trailing to his necklace and how it bounced against your skin. 

You lifted up ready to slide back down on him, when his lips attached to your nipple, his tongue rubbing against it. Your fingers found their way into his hair, your back arching, and his hands holding onto your lower back, giving him even more access to your tits. 

His mouth went to work on your nipple, his teeth biting down softly on it, wrapping his lips around your skin and slightly sucking. Your jaw went slack, hips rolling against him. 

“Bounce on my cock baby,” the vibrations of his voice against your tit sent more chills down your body, your pussy clenching around him. You bounced on him again, his mouth not leaving your tit. 

The way his cock was hitting your g-spot as his mouth sucked on your nipple was edging you closer to your organism. Jake knew you were close to cumming by the way your pussy clenched around him, he too wanted to cum. Usually, he would last longer or want to last longer, but his exhaustion was getting worse by the minute. 

Finally removing your tit from his mouth, he laid back against the couch, hands squeezing your hips and fucked up into you. His thrusts were sloppy but felt so good nevertheless. His lips found yours again, moaning into your mouth as his load pumped inside you, your organism following right after. 

Jake hung his head back on the couch, breathing heavily, “Your pussy feels good even when I am this exhausted.”

You slid him out of you, standing up and pulling your clothes back on your body, “Jake, babe let’s go to bed, ya? You need sleep.” 

Jake slowly nodded, pulling himself from the couch and pulling his boxers over his hips. You picked up his shoes and jeans, taking his hand in yours and leading him to your shared room. Jake was asleep the minute his head hit the pillow and arms were wrapped around you with your head on his chest. 

—

Shotaro kept looking at you throughout the class. Watching the way your hair fell in your face when you’d look down to write something in your notebook. Noticing how you’d sigh every ten minutes or so when your eyes would dart out the window. You seemed in a better mood than over the weekend, and from what he noticed from your Instagram account when you tagged Jake in a post on your story, it was obvious the two of you made up. 

But he could still see that small amount of hurt in your eyes with how you’d look out the window as if waiting to see Jake walk out of class with a female attached to him. Taro pulled his phone from his pocket, trying to hide his phone the best he could under the table. 

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, your eyes slowly looking up to Taro, his head tilting down to signal to answer your texts. 

Taro: everything okay? You looked back up at him, he gave you a soft smile.  You: yes, just peachy! Taro: yn…I know you’re not. 

You bit your bottom lip. You might not have known Shotaro for very long, but you got close quickly. It surprised you how he knew how your emotions worked already. 

You: just had a fight with Jake over the weekend, everything is fine now. I promise :) Taro: it’s still bothering you though, isn’t it?

You didn’t know how to respond. Mostly because of course, it did. You understood Jake’s sex life before you wasn’t any of your business. But that still doesn’t mean it hurt any less, more so because his hookups don’t seem to know he’s a taken man now. Hinting why they are all over him still. Jake removed all of them from his Instagram and blocked them completely and set his account to private, which yes made you feel better, but why did it all still bother you? You have him in the end and he’s literally in love with you. 

Taro: you start your job at the campus library today right? why don’t we hit up the campus cafe and get some coffee before you go? it’ll cheer you up. 

You smiled, shoving your phone back in your pocket and giving him a nod. You haven’t gotten to try the famous cafe yet. Mostly since right after classes were finished for the day you’d always just head home or wait for your brother and the three stooges at either your favorite picnic table by the art building since it had so many pretty statues and art pieces around the area, or in the cafeteria for a quick lunch together before everyone went to either sport practices or their jobs and you home. But obviously, now that would change. You finally got hired at the campus library thanks to Shotaro. He saw the ad for it on the bulletin board in the main office and knew you’d be great at it. 

Shotaro sat across from you at the table, handing you the coffee he told you would be a surprise, with a strawberry cheesecake. 

“These two are the best in this cafe,” he said, watching as you look at the coffee, twirling it in your hands.

“What is it?” you asked. You weren’t exactly picky when it came to coffee, but you definitely were more on the sweet side of coffee than the strong and bitter side. 

Taro just smiled, digging his fork into the strawberry cheesecake, “Just try it, you’ll love it I promise.” 

You noticed he got the same drink as you, figuring it had to be good if he liked it this much. You placed the straw between your lips, slowly taking in the cold iced coffee. You hummed in enjoyment, it was only an iced mocha, but it was damn well the best iced mocha you’ve ever tasted. 

Taro smiled even more, taking a sip of his mocha and then shoving the cheesecake in his mouth, “I told you so!” 

You rolled your eyes at your new best friend, “Yeah yeah, shut up.” 

It was your turn to try the cheesecake, reeling in pure bliss at how wonderful the pastry tasted. Shotaro was right, you had to admit that. After a couple more laughs, the cheesecake was nonexistent. 

Taro sat back in his chair, a serious look now on his face, “Want to tell me what happened with you and Jake at the club?” 

You squeezed your straw between your fingers, “How do you know about that?” 

He shrugged, “Sungchan and I were also there. We saw the two of you fighting and Jay leaving with you.” 

You just slowly nodded, “I found out about one of his past hookups, she came up to him while we were at the bar and had no clue who I even was.” Shotaro felt his body tense, he knew it was only a matter of time before one of Jake’s whores dared to approach him with you wrapped around him. 

“YN…” 

“I get it was from his past and was before me, so you don’t have to say that.”

Shotaro leaned forward, “I wasn’t going to say anything like that.” 

You felt bad for snapping at him. You’ve had this conversation with Jay on the drive home from the club that night and thought Taro was on that track. 

You sigh, dropping your face in your hands, “I’m sorry, Taro. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

“YN, I get it, okay? It hurts and it sucks.” 

You nodded, feeling his hands tear away from your face to look at him, his famous soft smile being the first thing you saw. 

“I obviously don’t want you to get hurt, but it’s going to keep happening,” Shotaro didn’t know why he was telling you what he was fixing to, but he felt this need to protect you, “Jake was…well is, a very popular guy. He used to have his arm wrapped around a different girl every day. Multiple make-out sessions back to back at parties.” 

You shrugged, already figuring that did happen. You’ve seen Jay’s Instagram stories before winter break happened, and you knew Shotaro wasn’t lying to you. But still hearing it ached in your chest. The four boys you’ve grown up with already had their fair share of girls even before they graduated. They were all good-looking guys. You’ve even had your fair share of one-night stands and hooking up with the same guy a couple of times. But the moment you moved in things seemed to have changed. The boys respected you and weren’t having many hookups, but maybe that was just because you were always at the apartment or they were too busy watching you like a hawk at parties. 

“Taro, I appreciate you looking at me,” you softly said, smiling at him.

“Of course, just…don’t let the other females get to you. I know it will hurt, but eventually, they’ll take the hint.” 

You nodded, checking the time on your phone, “I have to go, thank you for the coffee and cheesecake. It really did make me feel better.” 

Taro watched as you stood up, leaning over to grab your things, Jake’s necklace shining from the sunlight hitting it. And all he could do was pray Jake doesn’t fuck up. 

—

The rest of the week went by like normal for the most part. Your job came easy to you. It was mostly just returning the books to their respective shelves, which honestly was the hardest part of figuring out the layout of the library and which book type goes where. But you got the hang of it quickly. 

You spent the first few couple nights doing nothing but studying the map of the library. You sat on the floor between the coffee table and couch with Jake’s legs on either side of you, your eyes scanning every inch of the map. His fingers brushed through your hair and left kisses on your cheek, whispering how proud he was of you. 

Today's shift was until closing, meaning you’d get back to the apartment late. Thankfully you weren’t by yourself. Another student who was in the physical therapy program with Heeseung. He’s a little cutie and his smile made you want to punch his dimpled cheeks. 

“There’s quite a few RTS (return to shelf) at the front desk that need to be taken care of,” Jungwon said with a stack of books in his hands, “Do you mind doing it? I have to inventory these before we close up for the night.” 

You nodded, “Yeah, of course, anything I can do after RTS?” There were still two hours before the library closed.

Jungwon set the stack of books down, fiddling with the keys in his pocket, handing them to you, “Lock up the study rooms on the second floor?” 

You nodded again, “You got it won.” 

He gave you his dimple smile, slapping the stack of books, “Off I go, wish me luck.” You wished him luck, watching him walk to the back office. 

You walked around the library, gathering all the books off the desks and tables and then the ones at the front desk. One by one you returned each book to its home on the shelf, running up the stairs to double-check the study rooms, seeing they were empty and closing and locking them up. You checked your watch, there was a little over an hour left. 

As you walked down the stairs, your eyes met with a pair of eyes staring back at you from the service desk, his smile so wide you could have sworn that the sun was still shining. 

“Hey baby!” your boyfriend coos, leaning his elbows on the desk, “How much longer until you’re mine?” 

You smiled up at him, “Only an hour, why are you here?” 

He smiled even wider, “The new Lego Marvel set came out.” You rolled your eyes, you should have known. 

Jake lifted the Lego bag from the floor, setting it on the desk, “Heeseung doesn’t know yet, so don’t tell him. Gonna surprise him tomorrow, we are going to build it together.” 

You looked at him with endearment, his smile warming your heart, “I’ll keep the secret,” you gave him a wink, “But why did you go buy legos and then come back to the campus?” 

“I wanted to see you,” Jake said, reaching for your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm.

You giggled at him, “You’ll see me at home,” 

“I didn’t want to wait,” his smile only made you fall even harder for him than you already were. It was true, the whole time he was at the Lego store all he wanted was to have you by his side, helping him pick out a box. Jake even found these cute keychains of half hearts so when you connect them together the heart is completed. How could he not have gotten them?

“Can I see your keys?” He said letting go of your hand and lifting his palm upwards. 

You raised a brow at him, “Why…??”

“Park YN, let me see your keys.” 

You gave him a look as you reached for your purse from under the desk, pulling the keys out and handing them to Jake. You watched as he pulled a keychain from his hoodie pocket, connecting it to your key between the apartment key and your car key. He dangled the keys in front of you, showing the Lego half heart, “I have one too,” pulling out his own keys, “We are matching, and they connect together.” If you weren’t at work you’d kiss him right now. 

“Jake, this is so sweet. Thank you, babe.” 

Jake places your keys back in your hands then reaches up and rubs his thumb against your cheek, “I’ll see you when you get home, have a good rest of your shift.” You nodded, your eyes not leaving him as he walked out of the library with his Lego bag. 

You did a final walk around the library, cleaning up any other books or trash. The library doors opened, and a group of girls walked in. Which annoyed you, there were thirty minutes left until it was time to leave, but unfortunately, you had to let them in. It would just be another mess to clean up later. What annoyed you more was hearing the voice of that girl from the club that one weekend. 

“Well well, fancy seeing you again,” her annoying ass voice said as she walked over to you at the service desk, “So you do attend this college, I was thinking it over on how Jake could have possibly started dating someone from another campus.” 

You narrowed your eyes at her, “I transferred here over spring break.”

She giggled, “How did the two of you meet? How did you manage to bag something all the girls on campus want?” 

You tilted your head at her, getting more annoyed, “We’ve known each other our whole lives,” you spat, “he’s my older brother's best friend. I’ve seen Jake grow up.” You didn’t know why you were telling her this information, but something about rubbing it in her face that you’ve known him your whole life and were able to bag the shit out of him, and seeing the look on her face while you said it satisfied you so much. 

“Ahh,” was all she could say, “You’re Jay’s little sister, that makes so much more sense. I knew you looked a little familiar. You have your brother’s nose.” So I’ve been told multiple times. 

You just stared at her, imagining what it would look like if your fist connected to her all-too-perfect nose. 

“Anyways,” she sang, “I was looking for a book,” 

“We are closing soon,” you snapped. 

She hummed, giving you a smirk, but then her smile faded when her eyes saw Jake’s famous necklace around your neck. It was your turn to smirk, your head being held high, you won this match. “He’s…good in bed, isn’t he?”  Excuse the fuck out of me???

You laughed, “Excuse you?” 

“You heard, little miss Park,” oh you wanted to snap her neck, “He’s good in bed.”  You balled your first and her friends giggled. “Has he hit it from behind?” You furrow your eyes, what kind of question was that? Of course, Jake has railed you from behind, multiple times. What is this bitch getting at? You just looked at her, anger set ablaze. 

“Word of advice, he loves fucking while spooning, BUT your hands have to be in his hair, pulling it. Drives him crazy, never seen a man cum so fast.” 

That was it. You lost your cool. You started to walk around the service desk, but Jungwon’s hands were there to wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. All the girls smirked. Jungwon hissed at them to leave, following directly behind them and locking the doors. You fell to the floor, legs way too weak to stand straight anymore. Jungwon was at your side, helping you up, “Don’t mind them, they harass any female that has caught Jake, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and your brother's attention.” Damn, my whole family? No wonder that bitch had it out for you. You were living the dream she wished she had. 

Jungwon let you leave early, comforting you that he’d be okay locking up alone. You were going to ignore it, ignore them. But you found yourself snatching your phone and dialing a number. 

“Hello?” Taro’s sleepy, raspy voice answered. He was asleep, and now you felt bad waking him. 

“Oh never mind, I am sorry I woke you.” 

“No no no!” you heard the rusting of his bed sheets, “What’s wrong? I can hear it in your voice.” And you lost it. The wall you’ve held up to keep from crying ever since you first started noticing the kind of attention Jake was getting finally broke. The tears streamed down your voice. “YN, where are you?” Taro said quickly jumping from his bed, pulling his sweatpants over his boxers, and slipping his shoes on. 

You shook your head, “No, I just needed to hear a comforting voice.”  You don’t know why Shotaro was the first person you thought of to call. Maybe because you knew if you called your brother, Sunghoon, or Heeseung, they would beat Jake into the next year. 

“YN, princess, what happened?” 

You softly smiled at the pet name, “Princess huh?” 

Shotaro sighed, pinching his fingers on the bridge of his nose, “That just slipped out, I am so sorry.” 

You giggled, “No it’s fine. It’s all innocent.” 

Shotaro stared off into blank space, Jake would one hundred percent kill him if he knew he called his girlfriend princess. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “Please tell me what happened?” 

You didn’t expect to, but you did. You spilled everything. He leaned against his bed frame, listening to you speak. His hand rubbed his forehead in frustration. Shotaro tried his best to help you with that situation, telling you to just ignore them, that you deserved better than that. You just shrugged your shoulders, saying the situation is just shitty and that it is what it is. 

“Hey,” he said, “Why don’t you come help me at the school’s fair tomorrow? I know it’ll be Saturday and you probably have plans but, you could help me run the sciences booth.” 

You agreed, knowing that Jay works tomorrow, Sunghoon is going home for the weekend to see his family and Jake has plans with Heeseung. You had nothing else to do anyway. 

The drive home went quickly, and if you’re being honest, you don’t remember how you got up the stairs and into the apartment. But you were now standing in the doorway of your shared room with Jake. He was asleep, soft snores leaving his lips. Pieces of his dark hair fell into his eyes. Arms stretched out in front of him as he slept on his side. 

You smiled at him. You knew none of this was his fault. That those girls being that way towards you wasn’t under his control. You closed the door behind you, sliding your work clothes off your body. That girl's words played on repeat in your head. It bothered you to no end. 

Jake has spooned fucked you before in terms of trying to be quiet during his visits when your old roomie didn’t go sneak off to her boyfriend. But it hasn’t happened since. There hasn’t been a need to. Jake and you could have any type of sex you wanted and not worry about a damn thing. There wasn’t any need for that sneaky sex. 

But it kept running through your mind. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind being cuddled fucked at the moment. You unclasped your bra and slid your underwear down, slowly walking to your shared bed. The endearment you felt for him watching him sleep peacefully made you feel all warm. Your fingers softly push his hair out of his face. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, feeling your touch, “You’re home?” his raspy voice whispered, him not opening his eyes. 

“Hmm,” you hummed back, lifting his right arm up so you could climb in. Once you were settled on the bed and under the covers, his hands wrapped around you, feeling your naked body. 

“Fuck baby,” he whispered in your ear, his hands cupping your breast, “Why are you naked?” you could feel his cock hardening just by feeling your bare skin. 

“I just wanted to surprise you,” you whispered back, rolling your ass into his crotch, “Needed to feel you,” 

He squeezed your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your sensitive nipples, “Fuck baby,” his lips found your bare shoulder, leaving open-mouth kisses trailing up to your neck and then your ear, “All this for me? All for my cock?” You nodded and his fingers trailed down, splitting your folds open, rubbing your clit. 

Jake had to admit this was one of the sexiest things you’ve ever done for him. Waking up to see his beautiful girlfriend naked and wet for him? Jeez, this was fucking heaven. And it made him desperate. 

“Climb on top of me,” he whispers, ready to roll over to his back and see you ride him. 

“No,” you shake your head, hand reaching behind you to the hem of his boxers, “Fuck me like this.” Oh LAWWD this was so fucking hot for Jake. 

“What’s gotten into you tonight baby?” he asked, hands quickly sliding down his boxers, his hard cock pressing against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.” His words sent chills down your spine, and your heat clenching, so ready for him. His hand lifted your thigh up and over his leg, using it as a way to keep you spread for him. Your hands gripped the bedsheets feeling his tip at your entrance and slowly pushed inside you. 

“Oh fuckkkkk” Jake whined as he bottomed out, his hand squeezing your hip tightly. He slowly grinded into you, setting a good pace. 

“Your pussy f-feels so good wrapped around me fuck.” he moans out, bucking his hips at a faster pace. Now was as good of a time as any. You reached up behind him, fingers tangling in his hair, and softly pulled. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned, his grip on your hip tightened as he fucked up into you faster.

You were starting to see stars from how fucking good it felt as he pounced into you, “Your cock feels so good, so good.” you whined, pulling his hair even harder. 

“Fuck YN, baby pull it harder oh fuck pleaseeee.” 

You did just that. Pulling as hard as your arm could in this position. He abused your pussy with the pace he was going, so hard and fast, hitting your g-spot perfectly. You reached your fingers to your clit, rubbing at the same pace as his hips bucking into you. 

You felt his dick twitch. “M’cumming baby, fuck, cumming.” 

“Me too,” you moaned, releasing onto his cock and a second later his seed painted your walls, your pussy milking his cock of every last drop. 

“Fuck,” was all Jake was able to manage to push out, his head spun from how fast he came. You took deep breaths, heart racing. 

Jake wrapped his arms back around you, nuzzling his face in your neck, “Fuck that was so hot.” You agreed, leaning into him. The only good thing that came out of that bitch running her mouth is you have found another way to pleasure your boyfriend. 

—

Jake sat at the kitchen table with Heeseung, a good one thousand pieces of legos spread through the whole table. Heeseung and Jake had major smiles on their faces as they laughed and built the marvel set together. 

“Brother, how were you even able to get this that fast? It literally released yesterday!” Heeseung asked, his fingers pushing to pieces together. 

“Well, I may or may not have placed an online preorder and just picked it up.” Jake smiled up at his hyung.

Heeseung just shook his head, “You're crazy for spending that money.” 

“Hey!” Jake scoffed, “It was well worth it!” Heeseung patted his back, agreeing with a nod. 

“Too bad Sunghoon is missing out,” Heeseung laughed, “Jay too.” 

Jake shrugged, piecing together the legos to the ones Heeseung just had, “I tried to get Jay to call out today, but he wouldn’t listen.” 

Jake always loved building legos with them, it was some of his fondest memories as a child growing up. Speaking of childhood, Jake was concerned as to why you hadn’t left the room all morning yet. But as if on cue, you walked from the shared bedroom, dressed up a little too nice for Jake’s liking, you headed towards the front door. 

“Wait! Hey!” Jake shouted quickly, you turning to face him and Heeseung. Jake took a moment to take in your outfit. Ripped skinny jeans, your favorite pair of white sneakers, a red tank top that hugged your body snug, and Jake’s black zip-up hoodie, “First off, that’s my hoodie, secondly, where are you going?” 

You smirked at him, “What’s mine is yours, right baby?” Oh, I am definitely going to ruin her later. 

Jake smirked back, “Yes, now answer the second question baby girl.” 

You shrugged, adjusting the sleeves of Jake’s jacket, “To the school’s fair.” 

Jake looked at you with confusion, why would you want to go to that? It was just something for some students to show off their majors to other students and families who wanted to go. It wasn’t anything special at all. Before Jake could protest and beg you to stay home with him, you quickly kissed his cheek goodbye and were out the door. 

“Since when did she care about that fair?” Jake mumbled, going back to the legos. 

“Probably to hang out with Osaki.” 

Jake dropped the lego pieces, looking up at Heeseung, “What did you say?” 

Heeseung just shrugged, “She’s been hanging with Osaki a lot lately. They have a class together.” Well, no shit! I already knew she had a class with him. 

“What do you mean hanging out with him?”

Heeseung sighed, “I saw them at the school's cafe not too long ago. I don’t think they saw me though. He was also at the club that night. Saw him staring.” Heeseung thought nothing of this or saw anything wrong with you hanging out with Shotaro. You needed other friends besides the four of them, plus Shotaro is a good kid. But unfortunately Jake didn’t see it that way. Why have you never told him you were hanging out with him? 

Heeseung could see the gears turning in Jake’s brain, “Man whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” 

Jake sat in silence, sitting back in the chair, “Why didn’t she tell me about the cafe?” 

Heeseung just shrugged, “It probably was a one-time thing. Does she know Stella came by the apartment the other day looking for you?” 

Jake sighed, “No…Haven’t gotten to tell her.” 

Heeseung shrugged again, “Maybe she just didn’t tell you yet either. Don’t make a big deal about it. She has your necklace wrapped around her neck twenty-four seven, every man on campus knows who she belongs to.” Everyone but Shotaro.

“Anyways,” Heeseung said, picking the Legos back up and wanting to change the topic, “Jay’s birthday is in two weeks, what are we planning?” 

Jake couldn’t focus on that right now, no matter how hard he tried, “I dunno, maybe we’ll just throw a party or take him out or something.” 

Jake stood from the table, grabbing his keys from the key drawer. 

“Come on man,” Heeseung groaned, “You’re leaving me?” 

“Come with then,” Jake said blankly, hand gripping the front door and Heeseung trailing right behind him. 

Shotaro was glad you decided to come today. He was worried at one point you only agreed out of sadness and would cancel on him later, but seeing you here smiling happily at all the families and other students, it made him happy.  

The science booth wasn’t directly something connected to your and his major and more sciencey for the kids. 

Shotaro had a few plasma balls set up, with a board explaining the charges and how it all works. 

It was really getting the kids going. 

The major battery that was powering up the plasma balls was running low, giving a loud beep as the hint. 

“We don’t have an extra battery,” you said to Shotaro, your hands digging through the small boxes that everything came in, “It’s not here at all.” 

Taro thought for a minute, “Oh! there’s one in the science lab of the physics part of our building, it should be charged and in one of the closets.” 

You nodded, quickly sprinting your way toward the physics building. 

Jake’s eyes trailed every booth at the fair, watching all the different families interact with the students and professor. He had to admit it was pretty cute. No wonder you wanted to come. 

Heeseung got distracted by a mini arcade basketball game that was set up beside other games, “I’ll catch you later Jake!” he said, slapping his friend's shoulder, “I’m gonna shoot some hoops.” 

Jake nodded, “I’m going to find YN then I’ll be back.”

Unfortunately right when you walked off to find a spare battery, Jake found Shotaro’s booth. 

Taro was busy explaining the plasma ball to a kid and didn’t notice Jake was standing nearby until the kid and her family left. 

Taro’s smile faded and disappointment flooded him. 

“Osaki,” Jake said, stepping closer to the booth. 

“Sim,” he replied back. 

Jake shoved his hands into his jacket pocket, eyes darting around the area, “Where is my girlfriend?” 

Shotaro tried to not snicker at Jake calling you girlfriend, “She went to grab something for the booth.” 

Jake slowly nodded, showing his annoyance, “Did she come here because you invited her?” 

That made Shotaro laugh, “Jealous are we?” 

Jake locked his jaw and clenched his fist, Shotaro wanted to laugh even more. How could Jake be so brave to come here and act this way when he’s causing you pain? 

“Chill out,” Taro said, “I am joking.” 

Jake just shook his head, “What do you want with my girlfriend?” 

There he goes name-dropping her as girlfriend again.

“Your girlfriend,” Shotaro emphasized, “Is a close friend of mine. I invited her today to help cheer her up.” 

Oh that didn’t sit okay with Jake, “The fuck you mean—“ 

“Did she not tell you at all?” Taro interrupted, then sighed as he realized you never told Jake about yesterday, the look of confusion all over his face, “You need to get your whores under control.” 

Jake narrowed his eyes, “Excuse you?” 

Shotaro rolled his eyes, hands gripping the table, “Stella and her bitch squad,” he snapped, “They went to the library yesterday and harassed YN. Spitting out all kinds of shit from your past sex life with Stella. She called me crying after she got off work.” 

Jake’s eyes widened, his body tensing up. Last night made so much more sense now. The way you crawled into bed naked, how you demanded he fuck into you from behind like that, and the way you gripped his hair…Jake was too fucked out in that moment to realize it. It also hit him that you didn’t call him about it, or mentioned it when you got home. 

Stella was always a problem for Jake. Fucked around with her only a couple of times and she acted like the two of them were official. She was clingy in the worst way possible and would always throw a fit when she caught wind of Jake sleeping with another girl. He got bored of her and her fucked personality so quickly. Jake wanted to forget about the night he cut her off and the way she got so mad at him. He only stayed “friends” with her as a way to not deal with the bullshit. Jake hoped after he dipped from the party life for a bit, she would have caught the hint. Mostly after that night at the club, but guess not. 

Shotaro scoffed, “Got nothing to say now?” 

Jake clenched his fist again, “Just stay away from my girlfriend.” He went to turn and leave, to go and find you himself. 

“Hard to do when I have a class with her,” 

Oh, he wanted to get hit.

Shotaro smiled at the way Jake whipped back around, “She deserves better.” 

His words hit Jake hard, making his body deflate. 

Jake opened his mouth to say something, but your hand touching his back, made him stop. 

“Babe, you decided to come?” your smile and the way you looked up at him made his heart melt. All Jake wanted to do was pick you up and cuddle you. Whisper how much he loved you in your ears and plaster kisses all over your sweet face and apologize for Stella. 

But he didn’t, Jake just smiled, wrapping his arm around you, “Yes, Heeseung is here too.” 

Your eyes brightened, “Where is he?” You were actually genuinely happy Jake and Heeseung showed up. There were a few food stalls and games you wanted to try with them both. 

“He found some arcade basketball game,” Jake pointed towards the direction, “He’s over there.” 

You wanted to go, wanted to challenge Hee to a basketball game, but you also didn’t want to leave Taro alone. 

You looked over at your friend, him smiling softly at you like he always did, “Go ahead. You’ve helped me a lot already.” 

“Are you sure?”

Taro nodded. You smiled at him back, handing him the extra battery, and took off running towards Heeseung. 

“Don’t fuck it up, Sim,” Shotaro said, watching you with Heeseung. 

Jake looks at Shotaro, glaring at him, “Why does it matter to you?” 

He smiled, watching as you shoot the basketball, and shoved Heeseung, “I care about her. I have to see her sad and disappointing face every time Stella or some other female makes a pass at you. I have to watch it kill her.” 

Jake didn’t know what to say or do except look away, watching as Heeseung picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. 

“So don’t fuck it up,” Taro said again, this time facing Jake, “I don’t want to have to beat your ass if she comes crying to me one more time.” 

Jake scoffed, “Right. Stay away, besides the classes you have with her. I can protect my girlfriend without you.” 

Shotaro just shrugged and nodded, “Do your thing then man. Just keep Stella under control, ya?” 

With one final glare, Jake walked away. Taro’s “She deserves better,” ringing in his ears. 

Jake knows what you deserve, and it was to be with him. He made you happy, he knows that. And he knows that he’s fucked up when it comes to Stella. Jake will have to put a stop to Stella’s antics once and for all. 

But right now, all he cares about is joining the wrestling match between you and Heeseung. 

—

Jay groaned and dropped all his weight to the floor, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jake, caught him before he actually hit the floor. 

“Get the fuck up!” Sunghoon snapped, sliding his hands under Jay’s arms, “Someone get his legs!” 

Heeseung and Jake both reached for your brother's legs and like a child throwing a tantrum, he started kicking. 

“How old are you again?” Jake hissed, as Jay’s foot connected to his ribs. 

“Apparently five since he wants to act like a child,” Heeseung groaned trying to grab ahold of his leg. 

It took roughly ten minutes before Jay gave up the flight, letting his friends pick him up from the floor. 

It was a silly sight to see for sure. Sunghoon carrying your brother by his arms with Jake and Heeseung carrying his feet. If you didn’t know these boys at all, you’d assume they were fixing to use Jay as a jump rope.  

“Baby,” Jake called out to you, “Grab his shoes please,” 

Which you did, picking up your brother's favorite red and white Nike sneakers. 

It’s his birthday today. You and the three stooges planned a whole day's worth of activities for him. 

Heeseung and Jay went out to breakfast this morning. Sunghoon took him to see that new scary movie that just came out. Jake took him to buy new guitar strings and picks since the ones he had now were old and falling apart. 

You on the other hand weren’t sure what to do or get your brother, mostly since the stooges did everything you wanted to do for him. This was the first birthday in a long while that you were actually getting to spend with him. 

Usually, you’d just cash app him thirty bucks with a note saying “Happy birthday big brother ❤️ love you tons, get yourself something nice.” But obviously, since you’re living under his roof now, you couldn’t just give him money with a happy birthday note. 

But at the last minute, you knew exactly what to get him. You just need the stooges to get your brother out of the apartment and to the club for his official birthday celebration so you can sneak off to the mall. 

And obviously, your brother wasn’t having it. 

“I don’t want to go out!” Jay scoffed, trying to wiggle out of his friend's hold they have on him, “You guys already did enough for me today!” 

“Big brother,” you said, holding his shoes up. Jay stopped wiggling, his eyes shooting daggers at you, “Let's be grown up and put your shoes on. Okay?”

“Traitor!” he rolled his eyes, “My own sister! My flesh and blood!” 

Alright, now he’s just being dramatic. 

Jay honestly did want to go out tonight, but more of a go-out to buy alcohol and drink in the comfort of his apartment kinda go out. 

But the boys always went out for each other's birthdays, and today wasn’t any different. 

“Come on mate,” Jake laughed, “We always go out, we don’t have to be out long.” 

Jay knew it was a losing battle, plus he knew the four of them would just drag him out of the apartment looking how they are right now. So he gave him, “Fine!” he snapped, “But only for a couple hours.” 

Which everyone agreed on, setting him down and ushering him to the door, and handing him his shoes. 

You quickly left to pick up your brother’s birthday gift and then met them at the club. 

It was a brand-new club as well. Just opened earlier in the week. It was more for your college students anyway since it was right now the road from your campus. 

Something about it being a safer walk/drive to and from campus so the students living in the dorms would get back safer. Which honestly, good for the school to do that. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t go for you and your roommates. But oh well. 

You could tell the four boys had already been drinking by how dilated their eyes were, “You started without me?” 

Jay giggled, wrapping his arm around your neck, and bringing you close to him, “Isn’t my baby sister the cutest?” 

Oh god, they were further gone than you thought. 

“My man,” Jake giggled back, his eyes looking you up and down, “You’re telling me? I’ve crushed on her for years!” 

“She’s cute just like you my dude!” Heeseung smiled, slapping Jay’s back, “Never seen a more beautiful pair of siblings!” 

Sunghoon agreed, lifting his beer, “They are almost as cute as me and my sister. Maybe we four our ties.” 

“Okay,” you said, slipping out from your brother’s arm, “I have your birthday gift,” 

“For meeeeeeeee????” he sang, taking the bag from your hands, and slowly pulling out the tissue paper. 

Jay stood in silence, dropping the bag to the floor, holding the Chicago Bulls jersey you bought him in his hands, “Stinks,” he said, looking up at you, “How much was this?” 

You just smiled, taking the jersey from his hands, “Put it on!” 

Your brother has many jerseys, but they were all off-brand and not official, but this one was. He’s always wanted an official jersey since he was a kid, but never asked for one for holidays or his birthday, not wanting your parents to break their bank just to get him one. 

“YN,” he said, shaking his head, “This was way too much money!” 

“Shut up!” You pulled the fabric over his head, “Just accept the gift, you’ve gotten me plenty of things I have wanted for my birthday since we were kids. Please accept this.” 

Your brother nodded, pulling the fabric over his body, “Thank you, so much!” He pulled you into a tight hug, “I love you.” 

You hugged him back tighter, “I love you too!” 

He released you from the hug, patting the top of your head, “Okay, now that you’re here let’s get fucked up!” 

Jay cheered along with Sunghoon, creating a train back to the bar. 

“I thought we weren’t getting fucked up tonight!” You shouted, following after them. Jake and Heeseung rushing in front of you to join their friends on the train 

You all definitely spent more than a couple of hours there. The alcohol and music are flowing through your veins. 

Sunghoon at one point disappeared and returned with red lipstick covering his face. 

Heeseung stopped drinking and chugged down some water after realizing everyone was drinking a bit too much, encouraging you to also drink water to sober up since you still had to drive your car back home. 

“Seungieeeee,” you whined, “We can just get my car in the morning,” you leaned against his shoulder.

“Nah,” he said, lifting you up straight and handing you a bottle of water, “Drink. Jay would kill me if I let you continue to drink like this.” 

You pouted but took the water anyway. You knew he was right. Even drunk and on his birthday, Jay’s main focus is keeping you safe. Jay trusted his friends to help watch over you. 

You sat at the bar, chugging down your third bottle of water. Your vision was no longer blurry and the world didn’t feel like it was spinning anymore. You were sober enough now. 

You used the bathroom and made your way back out to the dance floor in search of your roommates, but your eyes landed on Shotaro and Sungchan. 

“Hey!” you shouted, walking up to them, “What are you guys doing here?” 

Taro smiled wide, “Checking out the club, what about you?” 

Shotaro figured you’d stay away from clubs, mostly after the last time you all went to one. 

“Same here! It’s Jay’s birthday, so we brought him out.” 

Taro nodded, “Where is he? I need to tell him happy birthday!” 

You giggled a little too much, maybe the alcohol was still in your system a lot more than you thought. 

You picked up a conversation with them, finally being able to officially meet Sungchan instead of just waving at each other in passing. 

Jake noticed the three of you. His body slowly stopped moving to the beat of the music. 

“Am I too drunk and seeing things, or is YN standing around with Osaki and his friend?” 

Heeseung leaned to Jake’s side, taking a look, “Nope I am seeing the same thing and I’m not even drunk.” 

“I told him to stay away from her,” Jake growled. 

Heeseung wrapped his arm around Jake, pulling him closer to him, “I think that problem is the least of your worries right now.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, trying to push his friend off him, “The fuck do you mean? I don’t like him around my girlfriend.” 

“Jaeyun shut up!” Heeseung snapped, making Jake go still, “Stella is here.” 

Yeah, that’s a bigger problem. 

Jake tried to hide himself between Jay, Sunghoon, and Heeseung. But unfortunately, Stella saw him anyway. 

“Jakey!” She sang, her friends following right behind her. 

Dear lord, give me the strength to not slap some hoes. 

“Stella,” he said blankly.

She pouted, “Are you not happy to see me?” 

“No,” Sunghoon answered for Jake, his thumb trying to wipe off the last bit of red lipstick from his jaw. 

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Park Sunghoon,” she laughed. 

“Well, the answer stays the same,” Jake finally answered, “Get lost.” 

She scoffed, “Why are you being an asshole?”

Sunghoon and Heeseung widened their eyes, taking that as a sign to walk away, pushing the drunk Jay further onto the dance floor. 

“Hmm, I dunno!” Jake snapped, “Maybe because you’re harassing my girlfriend?” 

She just chuckled, “Jake, we both know you don’t settle down.” 

Oh, now he was pissed. 

“Just because I didn’t give you the time of day besides when I wanted to get my dick wet doesn’t mean shit. We were never a thing.” 

She crossed her arms, also now pissed, “What makes her so special?” 

Jake laughed, “Because I’ve known her my whole life. She’s not fake and the realest person I know.” 

Jake’s eyes left Stella and looking back at you, seeing the way you laughed with Shotaro and Sungchan made his heart drop and fist clench. 

Stella turned and looked in the direction Jake was staring off at, “Damn, maybe she’s not as real as you may have thought.” 

Jake wanted to walk over there and snatch you away from Shotaro. 

But Stella had other plans, “Dance with me! Forget about her!” 

Jake shook his head, “Fuck off Stella. Stay away from me and YN.” 

But she was grabbing his wrist, and pulling him to the center of the dance floor. 

“Is everyone here too?” Shotaro asked, finally fully aware that Jake was more than likely shooting daggers at the back of his head. 

You nodded, looking in the direction you saw them last, “They are right…over there.” 

Taro looked, seeing Stella’s hand wrapped around Jake’s wrist, “YN, I’m—“

“Do you want to dance?” You quickly asked, taking his wrist between your fingers. 

“YN, I don’t think…” Shotaro didn’t want to play into whatever game you were about to play or get caught in the middle of whatever it was with you and Jake. He was already on Jake’s bad side. 

“Please,” you begged, the gloss in your eyes becoming more apparent. 

Oh fuck it I guess. 

Shotaro took your hand, leading you to the dance floor, leaving Sungchan alone. 

“Guess I’ll watch this unfold,” he said, tipping the beer glass to his lips. 

Shotaro obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. All he knew was you wanted to dance, so that’s exactly what he was going to do. 

He twirled you around in a circle, then pulled you to his chest, moving in rhythm to the beat of the music. 

He wasn’t dancing sexually with you, he would never cross that boundary or disrespect Jake and your relationship like that. But he did have his hands on your hips and held you close knowing damn well Jake was burning holes into him. 

Jake never sobered up so fast at seeing another man touching you. He pushed Stella’s hand off him, ready to walk over to you and push Shotaro away. But Stella worked way too fast. 

She pressed her back against his chest, rolling her body to the music, “Jake it’s just a dance, come on.” 

Jake placed his hands on her shoulders, ready to push her off him, his eye finding yours looking back at him. 

You narrowed your eyes in anger, seeing how pressed up to your boyfriend she was. Seeing his hands resting on her shoulders. 

Game on. 

You wrapped your arms around Taro’s neck, pushing your breasts against his chest. 

“YN,” Shotaro said quickly, feeling Jake’s eyes on the two of you. 

Your outfit and the way you were now pressing yourself against him made his cheeks flush. 

You had on a navy blue long-sleeve bodysuit that hung low enough for your breasts to poke out over the top and a black tight skirt that shaped your ass nicely, showing off your pretty long legs and your white sneakers. 

Jake wasn’t having it. Seeing the way you were slutting yourself over another man when he was standing right here? 

“Just dance,” you whispered into Taro’s ear, “Make him jealous with me, please.” 

Shotaro didn’t like this idea, but he also didn’t like the fact Jake had yet to remove himself from Stella. If this were such a problem on both ends, neither of them wouldn’t be acting as toxic as they are right now. So, he played along. Holding you tightly against him, his hands moving from your hips to the small of your back, dancing to the beat of the music against you. 

Jake clenched his jaw. Fine. Game on. 

Jake aggressively grasped Stella’s waist, grinding against her the same way she was against him. Leaning his head against the side of her, his eyes never leaving yours. “That’s it Jakey,” she said, reaching her arms up, ready to tangle her fingers in his hair. 

Jake quickly slapped her arms back down at her sides, “Don’t fucking touch me,” he whispered growling in her ears, “Only YN can touch me.” 

Stella scoffed, “That’s not stopping Osaki.” 

Jake knew the game you were playing. He’s known you his whole fucking life. Knew you inside and out. Knew this was just a fucking act to make him angry and jealous. And honestly? It worked. Jake continued to dance to the beat, the eye contact you both held together never wavering. 

You looked away only for a minute, to stand up on your tiptoes, pressing your breasts even more onto Taro’s chest, brushing your nose with his. Jake was done. Shoving Stella away from him, “What the fuck Jake?!” She snapped. 

“Stay the fuck away from me, Stella!” he growled, “I’m not playing your games anymore. Fuck off.” 

There he left her standing alone, completely defeated. 

“Get the fuck off her!” Jake growled once again, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other shoving Shotaro away. 

“Jake!” You snapped, shoving him off you. 

“Man, fuck this!” Taro yelled, “I told you to not fuck this up!” 

Jake got in his face, “Who are you to tell me what to do?!” 

“I told you so!!” Taro yelled again, “I prayed for you to not fuck this up. I told you what would happen if she came crying to me again!” 

Jake was beyond angry and starting to see red. 

You pushed yourself between them, sending them to take a couple of steps back. 

“Will you two fucking stop!” you snapped, looking over at Jake, “If you’re going to be pissed at anyone, direct it towards me!” 

So he did. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?!?” he snapped. 

“Me?!” you scoffed with a laugh, “What about you? I literally can’t leave you alone long enough without some bitch making passes at you or harassing me! Mostly Stella!” 

Jake chuckled, “Baby, you knew what you were signing up for when you fucked me in the hot tub that night.” 

You just looked up at him shaking your head, the tears forming in your eyes “No, because I thought you changed. Thought I was worth it enough for you to drop the playboy act, to give it all up. You don’t think I don’t see how you flirt with the girls when they talk to you? You may not touch them, but you still give them that flirty smile. You aren’t slick, Jake. You may have removed them all from your socials and blocked their numbers but I still see how you talk to them. As if I don’t even exist.” 

Your words hit Jake like a truck. He didn’t even realize that his actions could have been seen as flirting. He can swear up and down all day long that he wasn’t flirting. That it was just you being jealous. But before he could fight back, you spoke up again. 

“You probably haven’t even told any of them you had a girlfriend, did you? By the way Stella acted the one night, you never told anyone.” 

Jake relaxed his body, his clenched hands coming undone, “Had?” 

Shotaro laughed, “Damn, bro I didn’t even know she was taken when we first met.” 

Jake clenched his fists again, “No one is speaking to you!” 

Before more words could get thrown out, Sunghoon was quickly stepping beside you, wrapping his arm around yours and Jake’s neck. 

“Now, I don’t fucking know what is going on, but whatever it is can we just…not?” 

By Sunghoon’s tone of voice, you could tell he was pissed off. With the way he kept looking over his shoulder told you he was looking for Jay. 

But you weren’t in the mood to just drop everything. 

“Maybe control this pup and how he acts toward other females and then we wouldn’t have any issues.” 

Jake narrowed his eyes at you, “Really? YN? Gonna pull that bullshit when you were just slutting yourself all over Osaki?!” 

“Hey hey!” Sunghoon snapped, pointing his index finger into Jake’s chest, pushing you behind him, “Don’t you fucking talk to her like that! Jay would put you ten feet under if he heard that come out of your mouth.”

Sunghoon didn’t stop there, he turned back to you, his index finger now on your shoulder, “And you? It’s your brother’s birthday. Are we really going to do this right now!?” 

He was right, tonight was supposed to be about your brother, but it got turned into a massive fight between you and Jake. 

You shook your head, “Fine,” and with that you walked away, deciding being anywhere but here was better. 

“YN!” Jake called after you, starting to follow you. But Sunghoon stopped him, “YN!!” 

“Jake, let her go.” Sunghoon said, “She needs to cool off.” 

“YN!” he called after you again, his eyes not leaving you, even as his heart was breaking. 

You saw your brother, the biggest smile on his face as he walked over to you. 

“Hey!” he called for you, but you kept walking, moving right past him. 

Jay looked at you confused, then turned and faced Jake, his eyes moving between him, Sunghoon, and Shotaro, a sigh leaving his lips. 

—

Jake paced back and forth in the living room, his phone connected to his ear. 

“Your call has been forwarded to—“

“FUCK!” He yelled, dropping himself to the couch, fist clenching the back of his head, squeezing his phone. 

Sunghoon and Heeseung stood in the kitchen, watching their best friend’s heart break right in front of them. 

You didn’t come home last night and Jake was losing his mind. 

He was already running on no sleep. Stayed up the entire night waiting for you to come home. 

He’s called multiple times. Let plenty of voice messages. Texted probably over two hundred times. He even stalked your followers on Instagram to message Shotaro to see if he knew where you were. 

Sunghoon and Heeseung have tried calling and texting to, not getting any responses. 

Jay walked in from the front door, his phone attached to his ear. 

Jake stood up quickly, Sunghoon and Heeseung also stood up straighter. 

“Stinks, you can’t just up and leave like that.” He said, a bit too calm for everyone’s liking. Mostly to Jake. He expected Jay specifically to grill your ass hard for not returning back to the apartment. 

Jake quickly made his way to Jay, whispering to hand the phone to him. 

Jay shook his head, pointing his index finger behind Jake in a sign to back up. 

Which he did, taking a few steps back, and letting Jay fully walk into the living room. 

“Yeah but we were all worried about you,” Jay sighed, shaking his head, “Please just think clearly okay?” there was some silence, “Hey, I love you, okay? I always have your back.” more silence, then the phone call ended. 

“Is she okay?” Jake quickly asked, his hand shaking. 

“She’s fine, just give her space please.” 

Jake fell back onto the couch, covering his face with his hands, “I fucked up so hard.” 

“Yeah,” Jay said, his voice now turning dark, “You fucking did.”

“Can we please not fight right now?!” Heeseung snapped, “This bullshit is affecting us all, not just the two of you! YN is like a little sister to us too.” 

Jay sighed, “Just give her space, please. She’ll bounce back.” 

“Where is she?” Jake asked, “I won’t be able to sleep until I know where she is.” 

Jay scoffed, not wanting to tell him. He didn’t deserve to know where his sister was, “She’s safe and fine. Lose sleep over it. I don’t care.” 

With that Jay went to his room, slamming the door behind him. 

Sunghoon placed his hands on Jake’s shoulders, “She probably doesn’t want you to know,” Jake just shrugged, “Give Jay some time too. You know how he is over YN.” 

Jake just nodded, his vision going blurry from the tears swelling his eyes. 

You set your phone down on your bed, wiping the tears that streamed down your face. 

The smell of pasta made its way to your nose and your stomach growled. 

With a sigh you pushed yourself from your bed and out the room, making your way down the stairs. 

You stopped once you reached the bottom, eyes looking down the hallway at the door to the spare bedroom. 

“YN!” your mother called, pulling your attention back to the kitchen and the pasta. 

You walked in, eyes darting to every corner of the kitchen. Looking out the glass doors and seeing the hot tub. Everything in this house reminded you of him. It all started here. 

“Oh my sweet baby girl,” your mother sighed, pulling you into a hug, “Sweet heart tell me what happened.” 

You just shook your head, not wanting to tell her or even being ready to tell her. Part of this was your fault, and you didn’t want to ruin any image she had of Jake. That’s the last thing you wanted. 

You sat quietly during dinner, listening to your parents talk about work and their plans for the summer. Something about a trip and wanting you and Jay to tag along. 

“Yeah that sounds great Mom,” you said softly, taking a small bite of your food. 

After your parents finished their dinner, you sat in silence in the kitchen. Eyes not looking away from the hot tub. 

“Baby, you knew what you were signing up for when you fucked me in the hot tub that night.” 

His words burned into your brain. You thought he was the same kid you grew up with, but you were so so wrong. 

Your mind wandered back to every single memory that happened in this house. Starting from when you were kids and how he would tease you. How he would wave to you in the hallways during middle school. The small nods he’d give you as you passed him in the halls, the way he would tease and laugh at you with Jay. Then the memories from winter break. 

The way he wouldn’t take his eyes off you. How he was willing to risk his friendship with your brother just to be with you. How he felt with his body pressed against yours. How soft his lips were. How gently his hands would trade every inch of your skin. The stolen smiles when no one was looking. The quick kisses when everyone left the room for a second. The way he held you after the night he made love to you. 

It all started here. It all started here in this house. 

You finally picked yourself up from the table, quickly washed your plate, and dropped yourself onto the couch in the living room. 

You sat in silence for a while before your mother sat down beside you. 

“I just got off the phone with Jongseong…” 

You rolled your eyes, dropping your face into your hands, “What did he tell you?” 

“Nothing,” she said softly, pulling your hands from your face, “At least, no details. Just that there’s been some Issues between you and Jaeyun.” 

You just stared off into the distance, not knowing how to respond. 

“Sweetie, what happened?” 

You just shook your head, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” 

She nodded, rubbing her thumbs over the top of your hands, “Honey, I know relationships are hard, but don’t ever forget who you are. Don’t get lost in the bad things. I don’t know for sure what happened between the two of you, I love you both dearly, but don’t forget what it is that you truly deserve. Don’t lose sight of that.” 

She kissed your forehead, then left you alone again in the living room. 

Eventually, you went back upstairs and fell down onto your bed. Jake even has his presence in this room. You wanted to grab your things and sleep downstairs on the couch or even take over your brother’s bedroom, but you weirdly felt comfort here in your room as well. 

You spent the next couple of days at home, giving yourself time to process everything. Taking that time to rethink everything from start to finish and eventually come to your final decision. 

You called Jay early this morning, double-checking with him that everyone would be gone from the apartment, he asked why multiple times, but you confirmed you’d tell him later. 

You made the hour trip back to the apartment, eyes darting in every direction to make sure no one’s cars were around, and made your way up the stairs and into the apartment. 

You pulled your duffle bags from the hall closet and quickly entered Jake’s bedroom. 

You filled both bags with everything you could, ultimately deciding to return back another day to get the rest. 

Taking one final look into the dresser drawers to make sure there was nothing else you needed, a voice startled you. 

“Where the fuck have you been?!” 

You jumped, turning to see Jake standing in the middle of the room. 

“You scared the fuck out of me!” you snapped at him, turning back around. 

“Answer me!” he snapped. 

You turned around to face him again, seeing he was clearly not in a good mood. 

“I am not speaking to you if you’re going to yell at me. We are adults, not children.” 

Jake looked down at your full duffle bags, “You’re leaving me?” 

You were hoping that if you did run into him, he’d be begging you to stay, promising to change, apologizing for how wrong he was, how wrong you both were but made up anyway. 

But his tone of voice made it obvious that wasn’t going to happen. 

As happy as Jake was finally getting to see you after the last couple of days, he was filled with anger. How could you just drop off the face of the earth for three days and not tell a damn soul? How could you come back finally just to pack your shit and leave him? Jake didn’t have a poker face and knew his anger was showing. 

You just scoffed, “Thought I made that obvious at the club.” 

Jake just rolls his eyes, “Why? We have one major fight and you’re ready to get up and leave?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Jake why the fuck do you think? Your playboy life was clearly more important than me.”

Jake wanted to shout at you on how untrue that was, that you were the most important thing to him. 

“Jake, I gave you multiple chances to change, to stop the flirting. I can only take so much.” 

He scoffed, “Yeah? And what about Osaki?”

You groaned, crossing your arms, “Taro was my friend! If anything he helped me stop putting blinders on when it came to you!” 

“Oh, what the fuck ever YN!” 

Jake knew this fight was going to end badly. The minute he got Jay to crack about you being back at the apartment he rushed back so fast. Jake walked in scared you were leaving him. The last thing he wanted was a fight to happen. Yet, here you both were. 

“Why are you even here?!” You yelled back at him, “Don’t you have classes?!” 

“Why are you leaving me?!” Was all he could yell back. 

“Because Jake! This,” you pointed your index finger between the two of you, “Wasn’t supposed even to happen to begin with!” 

Jake clenched his fist, “What is that supposed to mean?” he softly asked. 

“Jake,” you sighed, “Maybe those silly rules my brother had in place were for a reason. Maybe he wasn’t crazy after all.” 

“Yeah?” he said, stepping closer to you, “Are you saying this was all a mistake?” 

You didn’t know what to say, you stood frozen as he walked closer to you. 

“Are you saying the night in the hot tub was for nothing? The way I’d fuck you so good every night in your bed even though I knew we could get caught you all regret?” 

He was inches away from your face, his hot breath touching your lips, “Was moving here a mistake too? Should we have been a good boy and girl and obeyed your brother's wishes?” 

You didn’t understand why, but the way he was deeply whispering these words to you made you wet and your knees buckle. 

“Take your fucking clothes off,” he whispered in your ear, his hands already working their way at the edges of your shirt and up your body. 

For reasons unknown, you let him undress you. You let his lips kiss yours aggressively. His hands removed your clothes with such force you were scared he’d rip your clothes into pieces. 

His tongue slid down your throat, twirling around your tongue as your hands worked their magic of removing his clothes. 

Jake pressed his bare body against yours, his hands aggressively moving over every inch of your body. His cock pressed up against you, his precum leaking down your belly. 

This make-out was different from your normal make-outs, it was filled with so much hate, anger, lust, and pain. 

His hands cupped your breasts, his palms making circles over your nipples and stopping every few seconds to squeeze the plush between his fingers. 

His right hand slid down your body, fingers spreading your folds and shoving three fingers into you. Aggressively finger fucking you and the lewd wet sounds from his fingers sliding in and out of you echoed in the room. 

“Jake,” you gripped his shoulders, squeezing down tightly at the pain between your legs, “Jake it hurts,”

“Take it,” he growled into your mouth, pressing his lips to yours hard, “Fucking take it.” 

You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down with such force as he tried to pull away, letting out the sexist groan you’ve ever heard leave his lips. Feeling the iron in your mouth from where your teeth broke the skin on his lip. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, picking you up by your thighs, and slamming you against the wall. 

His tip found your entrance and Jake wasted no time shoving himself in. 

You released the most wet, dirty, pornographic moan in his ear, his cock twitching deeply inside you, chills being sent down his back from how sexy that moan was.  

Jake pounded into you with such force and so rough that his necklace bounced against your collarbone, more than likely leaving bruises against your skin. 

“This was such a mistake huh?” he moaned, “Such a fucking mistake? Still, you need my cock like the good fucking slut you are.” 

You clenched your jaw, your hands flying to the back of his head and taking a handful of his hair, pulling it hard. 

“God fucking damnit,” he moaned again, pumping faster into you and getting rougher that his legs started to get weak. 

“I hate you,” you whined, the tears starting to gloss over your eyes, “I fucking hate you!” 

Jake bit your ear lobe, sucking on the skin before releasing it and pressing his lips to your ear, “Yeah? You hate me? Prove it then.” 

You wiggled out of his grip on you and the wall, aggressively pushing him across the room and down onto the bed. 

Jake was so turned on by this, by this hate sex. The way your eyes were glossed over with so much hatred for him at this moment. The way you threw him onto the bed and straddled him made him crazy. You were so sexy when being dominant. 

You wasted no time sliding back down his cock, using his shoulders to your advantage of riding the fuck out of him. 

You bounced on his dick with the same aggression he used when fucking you against the wall. Your nails are digging into his skin, drawing a bit of blood. 

Jake kept eye contact with you, his hands gripping your ass tightly and helping you slide up and down his shaft. 

Your vision was becoming blurry by how glossed over your eyes were becoming. You truly hated him at this moment. 

Hated him for what he’s put you through since moving here. Hated him for his behavior at the club. Hated him for his past. Hated him for fucking you in the hot tub that night. Hated him for making you love him even after everything. Hated him because you knew you’d never stop loving him. 

And the only way to get out of all this madness was fuck him like there was so tomorrow. Fuck him until his head spun and he was seeing stars. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he breathed out, feeling his climax approaching fast, fingers gripped even tighter against your ass “That’s it baby, f-fuck, hate fuck me. Make me cum and make a mess of your cunt.” 

You grinded on him harder until his head was flung back and his cum filled you to the brim. Your orgasm hit a second later, mixing your cum together as you slowed your pace until your legs could no longer move you. 

Jake fell back onto the bed, pulling you down with him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. 

You both breathed deeply together until your breaths slowed, and your hearts calmed down. 

Jake rubbed his thumbs against your back, “Please don’t leave me.” 

You pulled yourself off of him, sitting on the edge of the bed as you pulled your clothes back on. 

Jake sat up on his elbow, eyes pleading with you to not leave. 

“Please, YN, I can’t lose you.”

You looked away from him, hands reaching up and unclasping his necklace, setting it down on the bed, “You already did.” 

Without another word, you grabbed your bags and quickly left the apartment. 

Jake slapped his hands onto his face, rolling over and screaming as loud as he could into his bedsheets. 

—

Jake sat in the living room, his hand gripping the necklace as his eyes stared a hole into the wall. 

Jay was the first to find him like this. His face is all puffy from hours of crying. Jake looked like he was barely able to dress himself. His shirt was inside out, and his sweatpants looked like they were pulled from his dirty clothes bin. 

“Shit man,” Jay said, running over quickly to his best friend, kneeling down in front of him, “What happened? Speak to me.” 

Jake couldn’t even look at Jay, the two of you looked way too much alike and it took losing you to really see you in him. 

“She’s gone, she left me.” 

Jay closed his eyes tightly, releasing a deep sigh. 

“Jay, I can’t live without her.” 

Then the tears came back and all Jay could do was wrap his arms around Jake, holding him close as he screamed into his shoulder. 

Jake screamed until his voice gave out and fell asleep on the couch, completely wearing himself out. 

Jay, Sunghoon, and Heeseung stood in the kitchen at the counter, arms crossed and looks of sadness on each of their faces. 

“What are we going to do with him?” Heeseung whispered, finally breaking the silence, “I’ve never seen him like this before.” 

“Is there anything we can do?” Sunghoon asked, “Where is YN even going?” 

Jay just shrugged, “When I called her after he fell asleep, she said she was moving into a dorm room on campus. That she’ll stay until the semester is over and will transfer back to the college she came from during the summer.” 

Both Sunghoon and Heeseung sighed, looking down to the floor. They didn’t want you to leave just as much as Jake and Jay. You were family to them after all. 

“Maybe this is for the best,” Sunghoon spoke up again after a while, “You two didn’t see how bad it was that night,” he shook his head, “I was scared if I didn’t step in, it would have gotten so much worse.” 

Jay dropped his face into his palm, trying to think of any way possible to fix this situation. To play any type of damage control he can to bring you back and fix your relationship with Jake. But Sunghoon was right, Jay didn’t witness what happened that night. He had no clue how bad it really was. 

“Let’s just…” Jay sighed again, “Give them time. My sister is way too stubborn, she just needs her space and time to heal. Jake? I dunno, we’ll figure something out.” 

They all agreed knowing it was the only thing they could do anyway. 

—

You sighed, holding your thumb up and squinting your eye, tilting your head off to the side. 

“It’s crooked, YN. Doing this whole painter's thing ain’t going to work.” 

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand to your side, giving Taro your nastiest side eye, “Well I don’t see you helping, now do I?” 

Shotaro smirked, “Why are you even trying to hang up this dollar store painting when you’re leaving in less than a month?” 

You’ve already lived in the dorms for three weeks now and plan to just repack everything up the moment the semester ends at the beginning of June and stay with your parents over the summer while you get your transfer papers and credits to return back to your previous college. 

So yeah, Shotaro had a point on why you even bothered hanging up a printed copy of Starry Night that you found in a bin at the dollar store. 

“Listen,” you said, hands up in defense, “This room is plain. It needs more color!” 

Shotaro shrugged in a way that he sees your point, you might only have a couple more weeks left here, but might as well do it comfortably. 

“Honestly,” he said tilting his head, “it looks kinda cool sideways a bit.” 

You followed your best friend's motions, “Yeah, so maybe I was onto something.” 

You both chuckled, feeling so at ease. 

“Hey…how are you doing? Really?” 

There goes that easiness. 

“Taro…”

“Please just…be honest with me,” he pleads with you, “I didn’t force you to tell me everything when you showed up to my dorm room that night, and I’ve given you that space. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

You couldn’t be upset with him for wanting to make sure you’re fine. You didn’t tell him everything that happened between you and Jake, you just kind of showed up at his dorm room crying and only telling him that you two were over. Shotaro was patient with you as you cried your heart out, giving you all the time to calm down and breathe. 

After that night you never spoke about Jake again. Not even so much saying his name. You even told your brother to not mention him to you. The pain was still fresh and it hurt way too much. You didn’t want to deal with it. 

What made the breakup easier was not seeing him on campus. Neither of you had classes together and the only time you actually saw him on campus was during bio and it was when he’d be leaving his class and see him out the window. But even then you moved seats away from the window, Shotaro moving with you. 

“I am fine,” you half lied because it was half-truth. You felt okay for the most part. Yeah the pain is still there and you miss Jake dearly, but you felt stress-free, no worries. 

“YN…” he whispered your name, pulling you into a hug, “I can see it in your eyes, I know you’re not completely fine.”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, finally crying again since the night of the breakup. 

“I miss him so fucking much,” you cried into his shoulder, “I hate how empty I feel without him. I hate how at ease I feel without him. I hate that I miss him. I hate that I am even crying over him.” 

Shotaro rested his chin on the top of your head, slowly rocking you back and forth. He could only imagine how you were feeling. You’ve known Jake your entire life. He was always a presence in your life. And falling in love with him made that complicated, but Shotaro could tell it was always worth it. Regardless of what you say about it. 

All Shotaro wanted to do was fix it. To take that pain away. To also tell you ‘I told you so’. To hug you tightly until you forget all your worries. He wanted to kiss you but at the same time, he didn’t. So many conflicting feelings. 

Shotaro didn’t know what to feel when it came to you. All he knew was he cared about you and wanted you happy. Even if that meant being with Jake. 

Your crying slowed, small hiccups leaving your lips. 

Shotaro became brave and connected his lips to your forehead, lingering his lips a couple of seconds longer before releasing you completely from his arms. 

“I think before you ultimately decide to move away, you should think about what you’d be leaving behind.” 

Taro’s hands slid down your arms before he let go, walking out of your dorm, and leaving you alone. 

You knew going back to your previous college meant being alone. 

No parents just an hour away. 

No Shotaro. 

No Sunghoon. 

No Heeseung. 

No older brother. 

No Jake.

Your eyes wandered back up to your poster, fingers on instinct going to your neck, only to find the disappointment of his necklace no longer there. 

—

“Jake!” Jay yelled, his hands gripping the locked door, his forehead resting against the wood, “Sim Jake! Sim Jaeyun!” 

Jake groaned, pulling his blankets over his head, “Go the FUCK away!” 

Jay clenched his teeth, “You need to talk to your brother and parents!! They haven’t stopped ringing my line all because you don’t know how you answer your damn fucking phone!!” 

Jake shook his head as if anyone could see it. 

It’s been a month since you left him, and you leave for your parents tomorrow morning. You’ll be gone forever. 

Jay’s knocking got more annoying, his hand twisting the door handle to the point where Jake felt like jumping out the window. 

But he chose to climb out of bed and unlock the door instead. 

Jay busted the door open, his face flushed with anger, “What the fuck man?!” 

Jake laid back down on his bed, facing away from his friend. 

Jay knew Jake was still going through it. He’s never seen his best friend so depressed, so not himself. 

Jake has never skipped class back to back or as often as he has recently. 

Jake never skipped meals. But now he barely eats. 

Jake only got up to go to work and then got right back into bed right after. 

He was so lifeless and it was driving Jay and the others crazy. They all hated seeing him like this. All over some girl. 

Well, not just some girl, his little sister. But the point still stands. 

But seeing Jake like this only made Jay really and truly realize how much you meant to him. That the night back at your parents after you both got caught wasn’t just some bullshit. It was all real. Jake loved you deeply and wholeheartedly. He truly couldn’t live without you. 

Jay understood how Jake could be feeling right now, you leave campus tomorrow and vowed to never come back here. Forced Jay to promise never to bring Jake to another family function or vacation. To keep him away. 

No wonder Jake felt like the world was ending. 

“Jake…” Jay softly whispered, “Speak to me, man.” 

“Bring her back,” he mumbled. 

“Hmm?” 

“Bring her back to me,” Jake spoke up, “use your brother's convincing skills and bring her back to me.” 

Oh how badly Jay wished he could. 

The apartment isn’t as full of life as it used to be with your presence here. 

“I miss her too man,” was all Jay could say, slowly closing the door, “I wish I could do more.” then closed the door, leaving Jake alone in his dark room. 

He didn’t know how many hours had passed since Jay left, all Jake knew was the sun had been replaced by the moon, He slowly drifted off into sleep, just to wake up to his alarm and the sun peeking through his curtains. 

Jake’s eyes fluttered open, his ears drowning out the alarm as he focused on the summer sun rising. 

You were gone. And you took his heart with you. 

Someone came in and eventually turned Jake’s alarm off, he doesn’t know who, he just knows someone came in giving him a sigh and turning the loud thing off(it was Sunghoon). 

More time passed, Jake didn’t know how long, but the next sound he heard was someone practically breaking his door down. 

“Get the fuck up,” it was Jay, “Come on, get your ass up!” 

Jay gripped the bedsheets and pulled them from Jake’s body. 

Jake rolled onto his back with a groan, “Can’t you let me sit in my depression peacefully?!!” 

“Fuck no,” Jay quickly said, walking to the closet and pulling out clean clothes, “Go shower, you smell gross.” 

Jake sat up, staring at his friend with confusion, “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“Yes you do, and you will. Get. Up.” 

Jake fell back down onto his bed, “No.” 

Jay lost his patience, dropping Jake’s clothes to the floor and stomping to his bed, grabbing both his arms and pulling him off his bed. 

“What the fuck!” Jake yelled, “Fuck off! I swear to god I’ll beat your fucking ass.” 

“Stop being a bitch, go shower and get ready! You’re going to win back my sister.” 

Jake’s body went limp, “What?” 

“She’s not staying with our parents for the summer anymore. Shotaro just texted me saying she decided to go back as soon as possible, she’s just waiting for the school to accept her transfer, which is only a matter of days.” 

Jake just shook his head, “She doesn’t want me.” 

Jay dropped his body to the floor, “She loves you, man! Why the fuck else do you think she’s wanting to leave so quickly?” 

Jake looked up at his friend, knowing he was right. You don’t do things just for nothing. 

“Please go after her,” Jay softly said, “I can’t have my family broken up like this.” 

Jake slowly stood up, “Is she at the house?” 

Jay nodded, “I called her right after Shotaro texted me.” 

Jake moved fast. Taking the quickest shower he’s ever done. Brushed his teeth, fixed his hair, and threw on the clothes Jay pulled from his closet. 

It meant a lot to Jake that Jay finally and fully accepted your and Jake’s relationship. It gave him the motivation he needed. 

Jake picked up his necklace from his dresser and placed it around his neck. It is the first time it’s touched his skin since he gave it to you. 

With his keys in his hands, he was out the door and in his car, making his way to you. 

The house was quiet. Your parents were at some beginning of summer party with your father's coworkers. 

The only sound was the air conditioner turning on and off and the wind chimes that hung on the back porch blowing in the summer wind. 

You shifted positions on the couch more times than you could count. 

The silence was driving you crazy. You were praying for your parents to be home when you got here. You couldn’t even nap if you wanted to. You weren’t tired. 

You got up from the couch and aimlessly walked around. Opening closet doors, going through the movie rack in the living room, and even rearranging your mother's books on her bookshelf that sat in the corner of the living room. 

You looked in the laundry room, seeing visions of you and Jake doing your laundry together. Then found yourself looking into the guest bedroom, the visions of your brother, Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jake as children playing in this room, then the vision faded, replacing the three stooges all grown up and sleeping peacefully, you crawling into bed with Jake to wake him up for breakfast being ready before it was time to leave to go back to each other colleges. 

You were now upstairs, staring into your bedroom, remembering every night Jake would sneak in here. 

You found yourself outside on the back porch, staring down at the hot tub the five of you built together. 

Without thinking, you pulled the cover off the tub and turned it on, watching the bubbles form. 

It may be summer now, but late spring air still hangs around, the weather still being perfect to sit in the hot tub. 

You pulled your tank top over your head and stepped out of your shorts, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

Jake parked his car at the curb, never being so thankful for his feet to touch solid ground in his life as his legs rushed him to the front door. 

 He gripped the door handle, twisting it to find it locked. 

“YN!!” he shouted, knocking loudly but receiving no answer. 

Jake felt his hands sweating, eyes darting around the front porch trying to remember where your parents hid the spare key to the front door, ultimately finding it in the pot with the fake rose bush. 

He unlocked the door, quickly rushing in and slamming the door behind him, “YN!!” 

Still no answer. 

Jake got nervous. Your parents' cars weren’t in the driveway but yours was. But you weren’t answering and that’s what made him shake. 

“YN!” he called for you again, stomping his feet up the stairs, seeing your bedroom empty except for your duffle bags all over the floor. 

He ran back downstairs, checking the guest room, then finally stepped into the kitchen, seeing you sitting in the hot tub. 

Jake quickly pushed the glass door open, “YN,” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice, quickly turning around, your heart fluttering at seeing his voice. 

“Jake?? What are you doing here?!” 

You stepped out of the hot tub, meeting him halfway. His hands not missing a beat in pulling you towards him and embracing you, the water from your body soaking his shirt. 

“Don’t go,” he whined, the tears starting to form in his eyes, “Don’t make that choice.” 

As much as you loved being in his arms again, you softly pushed away from him, taking a few steps back. 

“Jake, the choice has already been made.” 

“Then unmake it!” he begged, “Come back to the apartment with me! Everyone misses you, I miss you!”

You looked away from him and down at the porch, your clothes being seen from your peripherals, reminding you of the thin pink laced bra that didn’t cover up much, and pink panties were all that you were wearing. 

You covered yourself with your arms, giving Jake the ‘turn around’ look. 

Jake didn’t even realize you were basically naked, all he cared about was wanting to see you again. He couldn’t help but laugh. 

“This isn’t funny asshole!” you snapped. 

“YN, I’ve seen you naked and bent over in multiple different positions more times than I can count on my hands and feet, you don’t have to cover yourself up like a shy high school girl.” 

You knew he was right, and his continued laugh only made a small laugh leave your lips as well. 

You relaxed your body again and locked eyes with him, “Why did you come here, Jake?” 

“Because I know I fucked up. Because I know I didn’t take care of my past the way I should have. I said such hurtful things to you. I did such hurtful things. I let my jealousy over Osaki blind me, I let Stella treat you the way she did and if I knew sooner what she was doing towards you I would have stopped it sooner.” 

He was being so honest and sincere, you could see it written all over his face, “Jake…” 

“Baby please,” he pleaded, his eyes glossing over once again, “I can’t do life without you. I love you for fuck sales and I’ll be damned if I just let you up and walk away from me again. I need you. And if you give me one final chance to make it right, I’ll treat you so good I swear it. Things will go back to how they were but be even better.” 

Your legs moved on their own and stopped right in front of him. Your hand cupped his face, thumb wiping the tear that fell, “I don’t want to hurt anymore,” you whispered. 

“Baby girl I won’t ever hurt you again, your brother would murder me if I did.” he laughed, relaxing his face into your touch, “I love you. Please come back home.” 

You felt your own tears falling down your face, his hands reaching up and wiping them away, “I love you so much,” you cried, “I was so lost without you.” 

“I know baby,” he whispered, pulling your head to his chest, “I was barely alive without you.” 

Jay paced back and forth in the living room, biting his nails in a nervous habit. 

“You’re creating a draft,” Sunghoon groaned, “Sit the fuck down, will you? You’re making me nervous.” 

“Neither one of them is answering their phones,” your brother said with a worried tone, “What if she killed him?” 

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “If anyone has the right to murder him it’s you, not sit down.” 

Jay just nodded, his ass hovering over the recliner chair barely sitting down when the front door opened, causing everyone to stand to their feet. 

Jake walked into the apartment, his eyes looking over his three friends. 

Jay’s body deflated, his heart stopping at not seeing you by Jake’s side. It didn’t work. 

“Goddamn,” you said, dropping your bags onto the floor, your finger sliding across the front table where everyone keeps their car keys, “I leave for a little over a month and you guys can’t even dust?” 

The three boys stood in silence at your presence, their eyes seeing the silver double-linked chain necklace resting against your collarbones. 

You raised a brow at them, “What? Can’t answer for not keeping this place clean?!” 

With no words being said, Jay was now in front of you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. Sunghoon and Heeseung appear at your sides, joining the hug and pulling Jake in too. 

“Don’t ever fucking leave us again,” your brother said, obviously forcing himself to hold back from crying. 

“I miss you guys too,” you whispered, nuzzling your head in your brother’s neck as he squeezed you tighter. 

Jay cooked a massive dinner that night. Jake finally fills himself up from the meals he’s missed. 

The apartment was finally back at its normal level of loudness and full of life. 

Music blasted through the portable speakers in the living room, everyone dancing and drinking. Finally, just have a party in the comfort of their home. 

Jake pulled you into him, placing soft kisses on your lips, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. 

“You’re mine forever, understand?” he whispered in between kisses. 

“Forever.” you agreed. 

You spent the rest of the night with your boys dancing and drinking until you each fell asleep on the living room floor. 

This was your family. And you were finally back home.