#but i like how it looks on both of them so maybe one ties it up more often or something

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC 18+: how to walk ‘em like a dog 🦮🎀🐆

“Back to the kitty, ‘cus she kinda pretty

Couldn’t stop lookin’ at her ti-ti-ti— face!

Me and cat mama rolled into the distant fog

Little did she know, I’m a nasty dog.”

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Pussy Talk by City Girls ft. Doja Cat

Kehlani by Jordan Adetunji

The Zone by The Weeknd

Ten of Cups, Six of Cups, Five of Swords, Make An Altar, Chanting, Use Your Hands, Camera, Mirror, & The Grim Reaper

Hey pile,1 😝. The person who wishes for you to walk them like a dog admires you so much, they might even over romanticize you in their head, to them, you fulfill their fantasies. They think about you in different positions and wonder how your hands feel on them 😮‍💨. They get hard/wet just by the thought of you alone. I believe you show that to this person as well, you could tease them often or like to give them a show whenever you walk past them. “P*ssy talented it do cartwheels and he pay cus he like how that part feels, p*ssy give speeches, heart felt, say the p*ssy really talk like it Garfield (it do)” 😅 oh god, I think this person is obsessed with the sounds your bodies make during sex, they are heavily infatuated with you. “I like the way your body is, is that too obvious? Okay I like your confidence, oh that’s what good karma, like kehlani is, bad just like kehlani is.” This person desires to be fair in the bedroom, they want to cum with you, pile 1. This might be someone you’ve known since childhood, your first love, or an ex that you met when you were young. You could be playful and mischievous in the bedroom, but also like to take the lead. Switch vibes are prominent in this pile. You and your person like to give and take. You could be a brat and they want to be your brat tamer. If you follow each other, this person has been watching your stories on social media, I feel like you post risqué photos for them and wonder if it’s working 👀 trust me it has, cus they have been getting it off to your pictures in secret 🤫… This person definitely worships your body and your beauty.

Full reading on my patreon

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Goodies by Ciara ft. Petey Pablo

Slumber Party by Ashnikko ft. Princess Nokia

Bimbo Doll by Tila Tsoli ft. BJ Lips

King of Wands, King of Cups, Knight of Cups, Watch A Movie, Massage, Rest, Talking, Keys on a Ring, & Love Call

I love how hyper feminine my pile 2 is 🎀! You guys are so popular and have so many options in your dating life. People think that you are so cute but in a tempting way. Do you dress y2k, mcbling, or coquette? Whatever your style might be, people think it looks so hot on you. You could attract both girls and guys with your looks, especially older guys. “You may look at me and think that I’m just a young girl but I’m not just a young girl. Baby this is what I’m lookin for - sexy, independent, gotta spend it type for gettin his dough. I’m not being too dramatic that’s just how I gotta have it. I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it.” You know your worth and don’t settle for less, despite your sweet appearance you know you give people a run for their money. People even wish to give you their money. Are you a sugar baby? If not, you should become one, you’d be very successful. I have a feeling you have people wrapped around your pretty finger. Others desire to spoil you with gifts and money. Dare I say I see this pile being with both a woman and a man (maybe even at the same time?)👀. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress up in my house, I gave your girlfriend c*nnilingus on my couch. She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies that excite me. I think she really likes me, ask politely, can I - woo ooh ooh (slumber party).” Two people wish to initate things with you but you have total control over the situation. Your features really entice people, you could have doe eyes, big lips, nice boobs, and a cute butt. When you talk, this person(s) doesn’t know where to focus their eyes, they get so nervous around you and have to control themselves from getting too intense with the conversation. They also really wish to hear you dirty talk to them. Your voice is a a major turn on to this peoples, it’s giving phone sex operator level of skill lol. As I was typing “hear”, I accidentally spelled “head” so they definitely want to see your lips on their d*ck/p*ssy as well😚.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Get On Your Knees by Nicki Minaj ft. Ariana Grande

Distraction by Kehlani

Rocket by Beyoncé

Eight of Pentacles, Seven of Wands (reversed), Nine of Cups, Sex, Abundance Planning, Deep Breathing, The Sword and The Rose, Not Today, & Clock

PHEW 😮‍💨 don’t hurt em now, pile 3. This is my dominant pile. You guys know how to take charge in the bedroom. This person wants to be at your mercy. I’m talking having you on top and riding them as hard as you can or them getting on their knees to beg at your feet. This person actually wants to be walked like a dog lol. They are very submissive and like pain. I feel like you know this as well 😂! You have so much control over them and they want you to know you run this relationship. I feel you and this person are already together or have a thing going on, if not I see things progressing sexually pretty fast. This might be a tinder date situation. “Get on your knees, get on your knees, baby just get on your knees. Say pretty please, pretty please, pretty please. Baby just say pretty please” you could like to use this person as a stress reliever. The sex would be slow and intense. “Do me a favor, pick me up, take me out later. Don't worry about no paper cus I got much stacked up for nights like this” I see that you’re a hard working person and don’t have time to be in a committed relationship but value trust, loyalty, and honesty. This person provides that safe space for you and allows you to express your flaws in peace. You don’t have to be perfect and fake a smile like you usually have to do in professional settings. I see that this person really wishes to be with you in a romantic way but doesn’t want to rush or force things on you if they know you have other responsibilities to tend to. It’s reminding me of Nani and David from Lilo & Stitch. David had a huge crush on Nani but due to her focusing on needing to be there for Lilo and being a provider, she didn’t have time to acknowledge his feelings until later she was settled in her career. I see that you are grateful towards this person and attracted to their emotional intelligence.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

Blah Blah Blah by Kesha ft. 3OH!3

Please me by Cardi B ft. Bruno Mars

Dip It Low by Christina Milian

The Chariot, Seven of Swords, Ten of Wands, Pleasure, Flow Like Water, Hydrate, Addiction, Date, & The Phoenix

Heyyy, pile 4 😉. I see that this person got you down bad lol but not to worry since the feeling is mutual. I feel that you came on to this person before they even did. You could be an extrovert while this person is an introvert. They’re very reserved and are careful with how they express themselves. You might flirt with this person while they’re on the job or when they’re focusing in class. They like to pretend they are disinterested in your advances to see how much you’re willing to keep going after them. It could stroke their ego a little bit knowing someone as “cute” as you likes them (I heard an emphasis on the word “cute”). You could be feeling confused on whether or not they like you back and it results in you feeling pouty about the situation. This connection could be relatively new but this person is wanting to explore how things go! This person could want to tease you a lot or perhaps even degrade 🫠. They might like to talk shit playfully just to get under your skin. For some reason I feel like this person likes to make you mad 💀 they can be really annoying. They like when you tell them to shut up or put them in their place. If you yelled at them even and kissed this person the next, they would live for that shit. They’re kinda toxic honestly 😂. “blah, bl-bl-blah, blah, blah. Coming out'cha mouth with'cha blah, blah, blah. Zip your lip like a padlock (Yeah) and meet me in the back with the Jack at the jukebox (back, back). I don't really care where you live at, just turn around, boy, let me hit that. Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat just show me where your d*ck’s at”. This person really enjoys your banter and despite being so hard on you they really only have a soft spot for you, I heard “that’s my baby” 🥹☺️. Pile 4, you must have a great ass as well 🍑. This person looks at your physique when you’re not looking, they really want to know what it feels like to have your body pressed against them. “Please me, baby. Turn around and just tease me, baby. You know what I want and what I need, baby. (Let me hear you say) Please” this person’s energy is honestly all over the place 💀 they’re just so horny lol. This person wants you *london accent* BAD, man.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

Lolly by Maejor ft. Justin Bieber & Juicy J

Walk Like This by FLO

Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado ft. Timbaland

Seven of Pentacles, Page of Cups, The Star (reversed), Plan A Meal, Nourish Your Temple, Music, Love, Passion, & Photograph

Ooo wee, pile 5🫣🤭, when I say this person has a biiiiig 📦 for you. This person has very masculine energy, almost giving fuckboy/frat guy vibes 😂. They could be very fit and muscular with a nice smile, they know they’re fine and attract a lot of people towards them. There could be a height difference between you and this person. Their attraction to you is because of the stereotypical phrase ��idk you’re just different”. They don’t have the exact reasons why they’re into you but they do like your creativity, mannerisms, and shy demeanor. This person could have a corruption kink 💀. They could want to see you break out of that good girl / good boy routine and try something new and risky. You and this person know of each other but don’t seem to be very close, perhaps they are in your friend circle or you guys are just acquaintances. They often have dirty thoughts of you giving them head and seeing how much you can take of them. This person could wine and dine you first before wanting to go down on you. “Order what you want, girl, it ain't no problem. I'ma tell the waitress that my baby need a bottle. Order what you want, said it ain't no problem. Got a piece of candy and it's all for you. She say she love my lolly. She wanna make it pop. She say she love my lolly. She wanna kiss the top”. They like sex that’s really rough and nasty, if it’s not messy and loud they’re not into it 😭. I see that they’re into positions like 69, cowgirl, and missionary. They’re big on seeing your face during sex, they get really cheeky about the good work they’re doing and would want to pin your hands down so you can beg for more. I do see jewelry and this person wearing chains🙂‍↔️. This person would be more so walking you like a dog but you have them on a leash in the sense you keep them coming back. They could have you walking funny after you’re done 🤭 you might be really sore the next day as well. “There's a reason I walk like this (I walk). My baby, he be lovin' on this (Oh yeah). When he do it, he be workin' that shit (Oh yeah) And every night he got me wantin' more of it”. You might feel confident and pleased after having sex with this person and can feel a sense of relief.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Play With It by Tommy Genesis

Who Am I (What's My Name?) by Snoop Dogg

Girls Need Love by Summer Walker

The Fool (reversed), The Sun, Five of Cups (reversed), Write a Gratitude List, Take a Walk, Clean Your Space, Family, Not Enough, Ax, & Healing Heart

Pile 6, you still not over your ex, huh 😔? It’s ok, no judgment here, baby 🫶. I see you and your ex still have an attachment together, things might be on and off or you don’t really know where the direction of this relationship is headed towards. I see that you are a very caring person and because of miscommunication, you and this person seem to never be on the right foot. It’s possible some of you who picked this pile have a baby with this person or will get pregnant (please use protection if this isn’t what you want!). I see a lot of fertility going on in this pile, you and this person could prefer to make love or have sex as if you’re making a baby lol. This person could have a breeding kink? They get turned on by the idea of you being pregnant with their child. Whenever you wear sundresses that is also sexy to them. I feel like your body is so tea, pile 6. Either you’re really thick and curvy or your body is just gorgeous to people, especially your sp. This person fantasizes about doing it raw while you touch yourself in front of them. “Play wit' the p*ssy, wanna play wit' the p*ssy. Come get a hooky, baby, come get a hooky. I wanna fuck you, baby, I wanna fuck you. If we not fuckin', baby, come get it poppin'”. This person is scared to fully pursue because you seem to be in a place of healing in your life and doesn’t want to add to that. There is another person that is new coming who also wishes to take your ex’s spot 👀 Oop! I feel like this will be their friend who will make passes at you and this will make your sp really jealous lol. In the bedroom, their jealousy could make them more dominant and want to take control. There is a lot about wanting to hear you moan or scream their name. They can be very vocal too i'm getting a lot about hissing so maybe they hiss whenever you get their spot? PHEW- They could want to fuck you doggy style while they spank your ass. “She want the nigga with the biggest nuts, and guess what? He is I and I am him. Slim with the tilted brim, what's my motherfuckin' name? Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb). Snoop Doggy Dogg Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)” they can be really boastful after sex if they get you to cum and you can get annoyed by this lol. You might tell your person “it wasn’t even allat🙄” and they’ll tease you cus they know it was 😋. I see this person providing you with aftercare and massaging your back and feet. Even though you might not be together at the moment, this person really values you as a person and knows their place.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 7:

Shufflemancy -

Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) by Usher

JT Coming by JT

Huff n Puff by Red Velvet

Page of Swords, Knight of Wands (reversed), The Emperor, Be Still, Energy Work, Sync with the Moon, The Snake, Lightning, & Separation

Alright this is giving my queer pile 🥰, very androgynous energy all around here 😎. Regardless of what your gender might be, both you and this person are independent and like to have things a certain way. You could have met them through a dating app or while on a date with another person (Crazy work but ok 😂). I'm getting maybe someone is a bartender or works at some place where they have to socialize a lot. You and your sp are very flirtatious towards the other but someone gets super shy when it comes to compliments. This is for a select few of you but some of you might be transgender? Perhaps you are a trans man/woman and this person is cisgender. You might be nervous to be too flirty with them in case they might reject you but honestly i'm getting go for it baby, life is too short to be worrying about those things (just remember to be safe is all 🫶🏽). This person will be very polite and respectful towards you so just allow yourself to unwind when you go out with this person. "I ain't gotta do a lot of flexing (Uh-huh). Shorty, you already know what it is. Ha, and girl, tonight we gonna do a lot of sexin', yeah. Can't nobody do your body like this." They could be very forward and direct when it comes to communication they do not like beating around the bush, i'm getting someone likes to man spread a lot or you will notice that they sit with their legs open. Laaaawd when I tell you this person has a big 🍆 or owns one, they will have that shit ready for you LOLLL. This person gives big dick energy they're just very secure with themselves and how they carry on. You might feel insecure about some things and ask them "does this bother you?" or "do you find this attractive?" and they're gonna be like "yah" to everything. THEY MIGHT NOT EVEN GIVE A VERBAL RESPONSE TBH they just might nod their head or whatever and look at you like "is we fuckin' or what 😏🎶?". To them, these questions don't make sense like for example they would think "why wouldn't I like hip dips?" or "facial harmony? what the hell does that even mean? I don't care about that, I care about you." So if you are someone who compares themselves to people on the internet truuuust when I say this person is not chronically online to understand any of that shit. They like what they see and they just want to give it to you and more. "It's been a while since you gave, ho, it's time to give it up (Give it up). Like a bitch with a fresh BBL, you can't sit with us (Nah). Fine motherfucker, white boys say I rock (Hah). I gotta stay protected 'cause y'all stay on my c*ck. My new whip beautiful, I call it p*ssy whip. It was a gift, my nigga friends say he p*ssy whipped." Your sp might be older as well or very mature for their age.

Full reading on patreon

Pile 8:

Shufflemancy -

SHY GUY by Tinashe

Good For You by Selena Gomez ft. A$ap Rocky

Unfold by Alina Baraz

Seven of Swords, Five of Pentacles, The Star, Journal, Look for Fairies, Movement, Hammer, The Dragonfly, & Self-Indulgence

Aww this is my soft pile 🛌. I see that you guys are very spiritual and dreamy. You might fantasize a lot about this person. For some of you, you might even be manifesting them. I see that the feelings you have towards this person are very tender and loving. I see that this person is very flighty and doesn’t wish to have such a big commitment. This person you are interested could have ghosted you or there’s something wrong with your communication. Maybe you and this person have different time zones or a conflict of schedule. There’s something about the person not being there for you. “Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline (La, la, la, la). Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline. Shy guy (Guy, guy, guy, guy, guy)” I believe you are being too kind to this person and need to detach and allow them to chase you. Focusing on yourself and seeing other people will allow this person to show up for you and be the person that you need. Now is the time for you to be self indulgent and take care of yourself. Some of you should practice healing in the bedroom and should learn about what makes you feel good sexually. Perhaps exploring with new partners will help you find new things that provide pleasure. I see that you are very submissive or lean towards more vanilla. Try to vocalize what makes you feel good to your partner and be more assertive. Your energy reminds me of Jhené Aiko’s song “P*$$y Fairy”, very sensual but delicate. To this person if you were to show them your new found confidence, they will crumble to their knees and will feel stunned. They might ask you questions like “where did you learn this baby???” Or “have you been having fun without me?”. They really love how you taste 😳 this sp wants to pull your dress/skirt up or pants off and just go to town. Their favorite thing is when you’re all dolled up and getting ready to go out. “Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight. Do my hair up real, real nice. And syncopate my skin to your heart beating. Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you. I just wanna look good for you, good for you. Let me show you how proud I am to be yours.” I’m seeing that they admire your facial expressions during sex for to them it’s too cute, something about makeup smudging? Things can get really messy 👀

Full reading on patreon

Pile 9:

Shufflemancy -

Come Alive by Jackson Wang

Earned It by The Weeknd

Swim by Chase Atlantic

Eight of Wands, Death, The Hanged One, Dance, Look to the Stars, Sound Healing, The Grim Reaper, Ascending, & Healthy Choices

When I tell you this pile is NASTYYY. It’s honestly crazy how much this person wants to match your freak, pile 9. Definitely saved best for last. The sex almost feels cinematic in a way. Something about this person just gives main character vibes that is so seductive you can’t turn your eyes away from them. I believe your relationship with this person could have progressed pretty fast. For some of you, you could have kissed or even had sex after the first date. While I also see that this is a friends with benefits situation (does someone have a contract?!). You could find them mysterious or wish to get to know them on a more interpersonal level. You could feel that these things are more surface level in terms of attraction and don’t want the intimacy to only be superficial. I see that this sp is charming and prefers to disclose things little by little. “I come alive. You start me up a million times. And I'm terrified. That you could leave me crying.” So this person could be afraid of opening up to you because they are nervous about getting their heart broken. They might have previously gotten out of a relationship and they are learning how to trust in a partner again. Your sp could be afraid of rejection and that's why they are disorganized in terms of how they want to pursue you. Providing this person with assurance will help them gain courage, also pile 9, make sure to do what's healthy for you, try not to overly devote your time to this person. I see that communicating with your partner and talking about how you have been feeling will want to open up more and trust you. Something about wearing lingerie in the bedroom is a major turn on for this person. Taking control and guiding this person will help allow them to let their guard down. "Cause girl, you're perfect (girl, you're perfect). You're always worth it (always worth it). And you deserve it (and you deserve it). The way you work it (the way you work it). 'Cause girl, you earned it, yeah (earned it). Girl, you earned it, yeah". Your sp would be over the moon for you.

Full reading on patreon

[monstersflashlight]

can you do a pt 2 of the hole in the wall with a tentacle monster? i’d think i’d pass out if that was me

A/N: Hi there! First of: thank you for your compliments :) Tried to mix all these requests together because all of them had tentacles in common, don’t know if I did a good job, but I hope this satisfies y’all, it was fun to write. Enjoy!

Good monster

Tentacle-monster x fem!reader || dom/sub (femdom), overstimulation, tentacles, double penetration (in the same hole), praise kink (light)

When the tentacle monster gave you your voice back to meet the prince, you were more than happy to get out of there fast. You didn’t think twice about why he did it, or why he would look so sad when you ran away from his cave. But you did it anyway.

And regretted it.

The prince was not only awful, but life at the palace was hell. You wanted to go back as soon as you two spoke twice, but you promised you’d be there for a while, you promised you’d make it work if you got your voice back. But the tentacle monster knew better than you did, he knew so much better. So when he showed up at the castle and eradicated every single one of the stupid royals who made your life living hell, you could only be grateful.

He took you back to his cave, and you stared at him for a long while before you were able to form words. “Are you going to take my voice away?” You asked him. You would gladly give it back if it meant not going back to those awful royals.

He sighed, as if your word pained him, his tentacles moving around his body. It was mesmerizing. “No, little human, it’s all yours to enjoy. A gift if you may.” He said and urged you to leave.

You didn’t fight him, but you regretted that, too. You regretted the pain in his eyes and the way he stared at you even when you were far away. You regretted so many things about him, but when you decided to go back and talk to him, he was gone. You didn’t see him again for a loooooong time.

And time passed. And you missed him in a way that made no sense but all the sense at the same time. He was like an old wound that hurt every time the weather changed. And you didn’t know anything else about him to find him, you made peace with that.

Until you were hired for a new human-monster experiment. (And maybe you only wanted to be fucked by a bunch of monsters until you couldn’t walk straight, that sounded like a great evening in your books.)

You were supposed to be fit into a hole, your lower half exposed to the air and ready to be fucked by as many monsters as they came. But that wasn’t what happened.

You were tied to the hole and completely naked when you heard the soft rustle of tentacles against the floor, your whole body trembling in anticipation as you heard someone behind you. Tentacles were one of your biggest fantasies, images of him flashing behind your eyes, anticipation and desperation mixing inside of you. You parted your legs a bit further, trying to look as enticing as possible to the monster behind you.

But they didn’t touch you. And after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a couple minutes, you asked: “Is something wrong?” You looked back, trying to peek through the hole but unable to do so.

“I- I don’t… I don’t know how to do this,” he confessed in a short breath. He sounded nervous and something inside of you stirred.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, your hand already pressing the button that unlocked your restrains.

“I’ve never fucked a human,” he let out, almost embarrassed.

You struggled out of the hole and turned around, you knew it was against the rules but you didn’t care. The monster was clearly having a hard time and you weren’t heartless. But when you were finally out and turned around your heart skipped a beat and you let out a gasp.

“You!” You both said in unison, looking at each other with utter surprise. “How? What? How”

Your stupor was short lived when a mechanical voice sounded over your heads: “Experiment over, move to the individual rooms.” You followed after him, grabbing a robe that was hanging next to the door. Your brain was swimming with a thousand possibilities.

“What happens now?” You asked to the researcher waiting outside the door.

“We detected abnormalities in your compatibility results, you need to be isolated and studied together. Follow me.” They lead you through the corridors until they open a door at the end of a hallway.

Your tentacle monster enters before you. “What are we supposed to do here?” He asked the researcher once you were in a cozy room that looked like an expensive hotel more than a lab.

“You fuck. We watch. Enjoy.” And they left, leaving both of you there, staring at each other with confused expressions.

“So… Do you want to…” He started, looking at you intently.

“YES,” you answered a little too fast and a little too loudly. He looks a bit dejected by your enthusiasm, and then you remember what he said earlier, at the glory hole. “Do you want me to take charge?” You questioned, all serious.

You wanted to be the one being fucked into oblivion and used like a fleshlight, but if your tentacle monster wants to be dominated you can totally do that. There’s more than enough time in the future for you two to play in other positions. In as many positions as your human body allows, actually.

“On the bed. Now.” You walked alongside him, and once he was looking at you pleadingly, you took pity on him and straddled his waist, his tentacles curling around your legs and middle. “Do all your tentacles feel the same?” He nodded. “Words,” you asked.

“Ye- yes,” he stuttered. You were rolling your hips slowly, spreading your juices over the tentacles trapped under you

“Yes, mistress,” you told him, falling back into your dom mode. He looked at you confused. “You have to say yes, mistress,” you explained.

“Yes, mistress,” he repeated.

“Good monster.” He blushed darker as you praised him, making you giggle as you caressed his chiseled chest. “Okay, so I’m going to tell you what we are going to do: I’m going to grind against the suckers of your tentacles and you are going to stay really still until I come once. Then, if you have been good, I’ll let you fuck me. You like that?”

“Yes, mistress.”

You ground against his suckers just as he said, your pussy was already so wet it made obscene sounds against his slippery skin. But looking down at him, seeing how flushed he looked and how his eyes were rolling back into his head, you knew you weren’t the only one having fun. He was enjoying you playing with him, and the slippery texture he was oozing was making everything more intense. You could see his muscles bulging as he tried to remain as still as possible, his hands going up to grab your hips and stopping just in time, pressing them against the bed and squeezing.

You smiled down at him. “You like that, monster? You like the feel of my pussy against your tentacles?” He nodded vehemently, making you chuckle. “You are a dirty, dirty monster, aren’t you? You say you didn’t fuck a human before but here you are, acting like a slutty monster for me.” He whined. “They all think you are so powerful, but right now you don’t look like it. You look almost pathetic with your groans and whines, but, so, so pretty.” And it was true, he looked great all flushed and frustrated, the noises he was making were driving you insane.

The orgasm caught you out off guard, too focused on him to notice it sneaking up on you. You fell apart over him, your head thrown back and your back arching as you convulsed. It was a good orgasm, but your body craved more. You reached under you and grabbed one of his tentacles with enough strength to make him whine again, chuckling at him as you guided it to your dripping pussy.

“Now fuck me like you mean it,” you instructed.

He looked at you confused for a couple seconds before his hands were darting up and grabbing onto your hips. He moved your body and his tentacles around you, touching and caressing all parts of your skin possible, fucking in and out of your wet pussy. It was almost too much, he was everywhere and the suckers were latched to every sensitive part of your body. Your brain was turning fuzzy with pleasure.

This time you felt your orgasm arriving, and you had enough time to order: “Come for me. Now.” And he complied.

He fell apart under you, and you didn’t give him any peace, your own orgasm going and going over him as you rode him to oversensitivity. He was crying out your name and you were desperate for more.

You grabbed another tentacle and pressed it against your already stretched pussy. You pushed it alongside the one already in, the stretch so big you could barely keep yourself from screaming. But you made it, the second tentacle curling around the first, creating the most amazing textured dick you’ve ever fucked. You rolled your hips slowly until his second tentacle was fully inside of you, until he was a whimpery mess of oversensitivity under you.

You leaned down, your chest pressing against his as you fucked yourself on his tentacles. “Be a good monster and give me one more orgasm,” you whisper against his ear.

“I- I don’t know if I can, mistress,” he whimpered, his tentacles twitching inside of you as you bite your lip to hold back a moan.

“Now,” you ordered. And he complied like the good monster he was, screaming your name until his voice sounded rough.

At the end of the day, he gave you your voice back for the wrong reasons, but you took his away for the good ones. And this time neither of you regretted it.

[mynameismckenziemae]

No Nut November

Part 2 (Part 1 here)

Jake Seresin x Female Reader/You x Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: Jake and Bradley give you a taste of your own medicine.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! This work contains: adult language, dirty talk, MFM, M/M, teasing, ass play/anal, oral (m and f receiving), a little spanking, unprotected p in v, unprotected p in a, cum play, etc.

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Jake stays where he is, his fingers tracing the handprints he left as he takes in the scene unfolding.

“I’m assuming you didn’t mean to call me?” He hits the red button as he steps forward into the room. Your eyes narrow at your traitorous phone beeping under the pillow to signal the call ending.

“No,” you shake your head, “I’m so-“

“But you did mean to send me those pictures,” he interrupts, stopping at the end of the bed where Jake is, “didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” you murmur, cheeks flushing as if that’s the most embarrassing part of all of this.

“She sent them to you too,” Bradley says to Jake while looking at you. It’s not a question.

“She did,” Jake confirms. You hold your breath until he continues. “She’s always been a greedy girl.”

“So fuckin’ greedy,” Bradley agrees, shaking his head, “and not only is she a dirty little slut, but she’s dishonest too.”

Jake stiffens at the name but relaxes when Bradley winks, nodding his chin at the way your eyelashes flutter and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep from moaning before you answer.

“I’m not-when was I dishonest?”

“I won’t tell Roo if you won’t,” Bradley mockingly repeats your words and then slaps your ass himself.

Your face burns when you whimper.

“What should we do with her?” Bradley asks Jake while kneading your reddened skin.

“I think,” Jake responds, “we should give her what she wants. We both fuck her.”

Your heart pounds at his words…and stops when Bradley continues.

“I think you’re right,” he murmurs, “but she needs to be taught a lesson first.”

“Yep,” Jake pops the ‘p’, spanking each already-sore ass cheek again.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You ask, lifting your head when Bradley starts rifling through your bedside drawer.

“Whatever we want,” Jake answers, giving you another round of heavy swats.

It fucking hurts. And yet, you want more.

“I’ll tie her hands,” Bradley ignores your questions completely, holding out something for Jake that you can’t quite see, “while you start getting her ready for this. Unless you don’t know…how?”

Jake scoffs as he snatches the items and you flinch when you hear a cap open before cold lube trickles between your cheeks, “I know how. I’ve had anal before.”

“Oh,” you whimper as he runs his index finger through the lube before slowly circling your hole.

“Yeah?” Bradley asks while he takes a silk scarf and ties one of your wrists before looping it through the headboard and tying the other.

“Relax, that’s it,” Jake murmurs as he starts pressing the tip of his finger inside you, “Yeah, I usually top but I have bottomed before.”

Everything below your waist clenches at the images his words conjure. The way he interacts with Bradley always made you wonder if he was also into men, but hearing him confirm it is so unbelievably hot.

Bradley apparently didn’t know either. The way his head whips to look at him is laughable. But laughing is the last thing on your mind as Jake continues pushing his finger into your ass.

“You’re bi too?” Bradley asks, pausing his tying.

That much you knew. Bradley was more open about his sexuality.

“Yeah,” Jake says. You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Huh,” Bradley leans in closer to finish knotting the scarf. “I didn’t know.”

“Obviously,” Jake snorts.

“I-“ Bradley’s response is cut short when you lift your head to mouth his erection, smiling when he jolts.

He drops your tied wrist and spanks your ass so hard it echoes across the room.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” Jake chuckles, “there’s no denyin’ it with how hard you just squeezed my finger.”

Your face burns hotter as you hide in the comforter.

“Add another,” Bradley says, “she can take it. Not sure if you know, but our girl here likes taking toys in her ass. She’s been begging me to fuck it.”

Your heart skips at his words. Our girl.

“Really?” Jake hums, rubbing his finger around your rim before squirting more lube and pressing in a second beside it, “She’s been holding’ out on me.”

“Such a bad girl,” Bradley murmurs, kneading your ass cheek again, “what are we going to do with her?”

“Well,” Jake answers, stretching your rim again with his two thick fingers, “I’m going to finish stretching this pretty ass before putting the plug in and then I’m going to take care of your…” Jake pauses with a chuckle, nodding at his groin, “I was going to say your little problem, but that’s far from little, Bradshaw.”

“Fuck,” Bradley breathes, “You’re…you want-“

“Yeah,” Jake cuts him off as he pulls his fingers out and opens the lube again. You mewl from the loss but soon you feel the pressure of the cool silicone, “I want you. I’ve been pulling your pigtails for years. Guess I wasn’t as obvious as I thought.”

“I had no idea,” Bradley murmurs, “I thought you were just an asshole.”

“I am,” Jake smirks.

The sound of Bradley’s breath catching makes you turn your head; Jake’s free hand finds Bradley’s dog tags to pull him in for a kiss.

The sight alone makes you moan, but it turns whiny when always multi-tasking Jake continues pushing the plug in, pausing at the widest part, guiding it in and out, teasing your rim just to torture you.

He chuckles against Bradley’s lips, breaking the kiss so they can watch your body take it.

And then it’s in. It’s too much, yet not enough and sofuckinggood.

“You good, sweetheart?” Bradley checks, running a soothing hand from your still-red cheek up your back to gently knead the back of your neck before dipping down to kiss you.

“I’m good,” you whisper, “Wish it was you instead of the toy.”

A gasp is ripped from when Jake’s teeth sink into the tender flesh of your ass. “You’ll get it if you can behave. But I get him first.”

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While Jake washes his hands, Bradley flips you onto your back, your arms still tied and now crossed above your head.

“Please Roo,” you beg fruitlessly while he strips off his shirt, ditching his pants next. Your mouth waters at the thick line of his erection straining against his boxer briefs, “Let me go. Let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” he murmurs, kissing a line up your thigh, “I am gonna have a taste though.”

Your eyes roll back at the first lazy swipe of his tongue and you have to bite yours to keep from screaming. Bradley’s never in a hurry and it’s so infuriatingly hot.

“Hurry,” you plead, lifting your hips, “before he comes back.”

Bradley ignores your pleas, groaning into your pussy as he slowly devours you, “Fuck, it’s like I can taste him.”

You don’t realize your eyes have fallen closed until they fly open at Jake’s voice.

“I’ll let you have a real taste of me if you ask nicely,” Jake smirks weaving a hair into Bradley’s curls, naked as the day he was born. He’s already starting to get hard again.

Bradley groans again while your head falls back to the pillow with a pitiful whimper, knowing Jake is about to pull him away.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he guides Bradley by the hold of his hair. “You do everything like you fly, huh? Unhurried, steady, yet…precise. I can tell she’s getting close.”

As much as you’re trying to hide your tells, the smug asshole is right. His green eyes rake over your trembling body as the pleasure begins to peak.

“You’re not gonna let her cum though, are you?” Jake continues, making Bradley shake his head ‘no’ before pulling him away, effectively halting your imminent orgasm.

Bradley lets him do it again. And again. Edging you until tears begin to prickle at your eyes.

“Got a taste of your own medicine,” Jake grins at the pathetic mess you’ve become, “you don’t like being teased either, do ya?”

“Please,” you shake your head with a whine, trying to keep Bradley where he is with your legs when Jake finally pulls him up for good, “pleasepleaseplease, I promise I’ll be good. Please let me cum?”

“No,” Jake says, making you cry out when he reaches over to slap your clit before capturing Bradley in a kiss again, groaning at the taste of you on his lips.

“Fuck,” Bradley sighs, running his hands over Jake’s sides and across his ass as Jake nips along his jaw, “you’re nak-when did you get naked?”

“In the bathroom,” Jake laughs softly, leaving a sizable lovebite on his collarbone, “your turn.”

Jake’s look is predatory when he pushes Bradley on his back beside you before leaving more hickeys across his Adonis belt you love to kiss so much as he pulls the briefs down his legs.

“Damn Bradshaw,” Jake whistles lowly when Bradley’s cock is revealed, “Now I see why she can’t quit ya.”

Bradley’s chuckle turns breathy when Jake takes him in hand before licking up the precum beading at the head.

“She likes-ah,” Bradley starts as Jake slowly sucks him down, “she likes me for more than my big cock, Seresin. I can tell-fuck! I can tell she keeps you around for that mouth.”

“Wait ‘til you see what my cock can do,” Jake pops off him with a wink before bobbing his head again.

“That true, sweetheart?” Bradley rasps, his finally remembering you. He rests his head on his right bicep while his left hand reaches for yours still above your head, squeezing reassuringly, “Is Jake good with his cock too?”

“So good,” you sigh, rubbing your slick thighs together. The movement reminds you of the plug and your poor, empty cunt clenches around nothing.

Jake gives you a wink in response, pulling off to mouth at Bradley’s sack, while still jerking him off.

“Can’t wait to get my mouth everywhere on you,” he pants, “and my hands, and my cock. Will you let me Roo?”

“God Jake,” Bradley groans, long lashes fluttering over his ruddy cheeks as he squeezes your hand to ground himself, “Yes, anything you want.”

“Good,” Jake purrs, looking up at Bradley, “we’ll do it all.” His eyes flick to yours, “Together.”

Your heart flutters in time with your pussy as Jake quits teasing and doubles his efforts, hallowing his cheeks and jerking him in time with his mouth.

“Fuck, that’s it. I’m close,” Bradley grunts, the hand not holding yours flying into Jake’s hair, trying to tug him off, “Jake…”

“Cum in his mouth,” you breathe, chest heaving, “he wants you to.”

So much is said without a word when their eyes meet, and it feels like time pauses when Jake pushes Bradley past the point of no return.

“Jake!” Bradley rasps as his hips flex, hand tightening in Jake’s hair as he rides the waves of pleasure with a low groan.

Jake's eyes flutter as Roo fills his mouth, swallowing once when he pulls off. He climbs over your trembling, tense body and claims your lips in a bruising kiss. His hard cock brushes your thigh, leaving a trail of precum.

The familiar taste of Bradley’s cum makes you moan when Jake’s tongue swipes across yours. He saved some of Bradley’s release just for you.

There’s some tugging and suddenly, your hands are free, tingling as the blood begins to flow again. Bradley joins too; it’s a mess of tongue and teeth and you never want it to stop.

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But it has to stop for better things to happen.

Jake reclines back on your pillows, lazily stroking himself as Bradley kneels behind you, his hands roaming over your body like he can’t get enough. His cock slides between your cheeks, nudging the plug still inside you.

“Jake first,” Bradley says almost reluctantly, “then I’ll take your ass, sweetheart.”

Jake reaches for the box of condoms but you shake your head.

“No,” you crawl over Jake anyway, knocking his hand out of the way before hovering over him, “I want to feel both of you without them. If you want. I’m on birth control, it’s just…”

It’s just I haven’t been able to choose between the two of you and it didn’t feel right to let either cum inside me when I’ve been sleeping with you both.

“Oh sweetheart,” Bradley followed you, and his head drops to your shoulder, “God, do I want to.”

“Darlin’…yes,” Jake rasps, eyes wide as he looks between you and Bradley, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” you sigh shakily as you sink down; the plug making it a tighter fit from the plug. Jake’s hands scramble to grip your hips, not letting you move as the tightness and lack of protection affects him too. “I don’t want to wait, Roo,” you turn your head to kiss Bradley’s damp temple before leaning forward to present your ass.

“Fuck,” Bradley breathes, running his big hand down your back to your ass, “fuckfuckfuck. Okay. You’ll tell us if it hurts? Or if you want to stop?”

“I will,” you promise, nipping Jake’s lower lip.

Jake chases your mouth, kissing you deeply, sweetly as his hand slides between you two to find your clit, circling as Bradley pulls the plug out. He sets it aside before lubing himself and you keen as he pushes a slick finger inside to make sure there’s no unwanted friction.

Jake pulses inside you, so eager to fuck into your wet, warm heat but is ever the gentleman.

“Ready?” Bradley murmurs a few minutes later, running the head of his cock between your cheeks.

“Ready,” you answer, shuddering as Bradley begins to slowly push, fighting the urge to tense up. Jake’s fingers on your clit serve as the perfect distraction.

“Fuck,” Jake gasps, putting his free hand over Bradley’s on your hip, “I can feel your cock, Roo.”

“Yeah,” Bradley grits out, his body trembling from the effort to not push in fully, “I feel yours too. Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking tight.”

Bradley’s not quite inside when the pleasure suddenly spikes; Jake’s fingers on your clit, the sweet fullness in your pussy and your ass proving to be too much. Jake and Bradley both groan in unison as you tighten rhythmically around them, the orgasm taking you all by surprise.

“It’s s-s-so good,” you whimper as you come down, everything below your navel already tensing in anticipation, “I want more.”

“Greedy,” Bradley pants, fully inside you now.

“So fucking’ greedy,” Jake laughs breathlessly, ever so slowly lifting you up and then down, guiding you into a slow but steady rhythm.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and you never want it to end.

“I-I’m never going to choose,” you begin to babble, the intense pleasure building again; it’s too much, “I can’t…I need you both.”

“I won’t make you choose, darlin’,” Jake intertwines his fingers through Bradley’s on your hip.

“I won’t either,” Bradley pulls you up to his chest, pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder, “I…we need you too.”

The new angle and the affirmation are all it takes for you to tip over the edge. You cry out, writhing in Bradley’s arms as the white-hot pleasure courses through your veins; from the top of your head to the very tips of your toes.

“Holy fuck,” Jake grits out, trying to hold off, “I can’t-”

“Me either,” Bradley pants in your ear, “help me get lay her down before I-”

“No!” You cry, the pleasure almost too much, “Inside me. Cum inside me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jake succumbs first, gasping as he releases inside you; Bradley’s groan in your ear is debauched as he cums deep inside your ass.

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While Jake changes the sheets, Bradley carries your boneless self into the shower, washing you with such tenderness your eyes burn with tears.

Tears that spill over when Jake helps you get out, murmuring sweet praises as he first dries, then massages lotion into your sore, satisfied body before taking his own.

Bradley has you tucked into his body when Jake comes out of the bathroom, the towel slung low on his hips.

“Your clothes are in the wash,” Bradley says nonchalantly when Jake pauses, as if unsure what to do next, “along with mine. Guess you’re going to have to spend the night too.”

Jake’s answering smile as he drops the towel makes your heart flutter, and Bradley's cock twitch in interest.

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“Shit!”

Wide brown and green eyes meet yours when the doorbell rings the next morning.

“Shit shit shit,” you repeat, sitting up and sliding off the table before tugging your skirt down and attempting to straighten it, “I told you we didn’t have time!”

“The 3 orgasms we just gave you say different,” Jake smirks.

“Where’s my underwear? Fuck,” you ignore him to look under the table, not noticing Bradley shoving them into his pocket. “Whatever, I’ll put new ones on. Can you two fix the table…” you wince as you look over the table, dishes of food and plates pushed to the middle before Bradley laid you out on the wood before dropping to see them both with obvious erections, “and yourselves?”

You don’t wait for an answer, instead walking from the dining room to the front door.

“Hey Penny,” you smile, cheeks flushed as you open it, hoping your hair isn’t a mess. You were awfully close to that gravy boat. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too,” she replies pulling you in for a one-armed hug, “so who caved first?”

“What?” Your heart pounds as your hands pause from taking the dish she brought.

“No Nut November,” she shrugs like it’s not a big deal that she knows…everything apparently, “Jake left first last night, but Bradley hightailed it out of there shortly after.”

“Uhmm, wha-how did…” you sputter, lost for words.

“C’mon,” she laughs, eyes twinkling, “none of you are subtle. At all. Your skirt is on backward by the way, and I think, no, I hope that’s gravy in your hair.”

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A/N: Done! Hope y’all liked it. If you’re interested, I’m working on a throuple fic with Bradley and Jake as well. Also, here’s my masterlist.

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Tagging a few I think may be interested:

@callsigns-haze

@writtingrose

@blindedbythelightt

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@dizzybee03

@shanimallina87

@lexixstewart

@hookslove1592

@jessicab1991

@carolina-on-my-mind03

@racerchix21

@that-one-fangirl69

@mrsbradshaw-seresin01

@sydneejean

@xoxabs88xox

@midnightmagpiemama

@its-the-pilot

@kmc1989

@psuedochakra

@fandomology101

@kneelforloki

@djs8891

@mavrellover91

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@seitmai

@emerald-jade1

@eloquentdreamer

@alwayshave-faith

@thespillingvoid

@glenpowellluver

@lunatygerqueen

@bigstrongpowellheart

@stoneyggirl2

@sarah-bear706318

@alipap3

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Your ginny metas are always so good! In yhe last one you ended it talking about Luna and Harry cause she's the only one girl Gunny wouldn't consider a threat, but now I'm wondering how would Ginny react to Harry figuring out he is gay after the war? Bet she never thought she had to stop him from looking at boys too, that will probably hit her hard

Thank you so much! 💛

(Anon is referring to this post about Ginny and this post where I explain why I think Harry's gay)

And oh boy, Ginny is not going to like that. I don't think she is particularly homophobic or anything like that, like, if one of her brothers came out as gay, she'd probably be pretty supportive. I just think that if Harry, the boy she's been fixated on being with and idolized and convinced herself she loves (even though I'm not sure I'd call it love), came out as gay, I think she'd be insulted a little.

Like, it would be like a punch to the gut. Like, I mentioned in the post I linked, Ginny has tied up a lot of her self-worth and who she is as a person on being Harry's girl. Like, she changed her behavior for him. She makes sure to be agreeable and never cry in front of him because she can't have him see her as weak and weepy like Cho... I think Harry coming out to her and breaking up with her seemingly for good would force her to acknowledge her fixation on Harry wasn't great, and that maybe her and Harry's relationship isn't perfect and wasn't meant to be.

I honestly think she'd be happier with another guy who actually is attracted to her, but she's going to struggle with this realization a lot before she reaches that point.

I think she'd end up being pretty cold and bitter toward Harry in the immediate aftermath, again, not out of homophobia, just out of how much of her own identity got wrapped up in the concept of their relationship.

So, yeah, I think something like this would hit Ginny hard, but it also depends on when after the war it happens.

Like, if immediately post-book 7 (no epilogue) Harry tells her they aren't getting back together because he realized he's gay, I think she'd be more chill with it. Disappointed, yes, a little bitter at first, definitely, but, it won't be as hard of a hit to her self-worth if he told her that after they got back together post-book 7.

Like, I think, if they got together for Harry's 8th year, and during that year he figures out he's gay — that's the point Ginny would take it the worst, probably. Like, they're just done with the war, Fred died, so many people died. Harry was left as Teddy's only family besides Andromeda. Both of them are traumatized as fuck and don't actually know how to relate to each other and talk about their trauma. So, their relationship is already pretty rocky. Add to that the fact I don't think Harry told Ginny much about the Horcruxes, or himself being one, and she knows he isn't telling her everything, and you really have a mess of a relationship. So Hinny at this stage, are likely not very healthy as a relationship and are a little resentful of each other (Ginny probably does resent Harry a little for keeping her in the dark and leaving her at Hogwarts and not coming back earlier, while Harry probably gets annoyed whenever Ginny tries to talk about what they went through because Harry's way of dealing with trauma is bottling it up), but like in year 6, they snog and distract each other without really talking through their issues.

And then Harry comes out (if it happens in 8th year, there's a high possibility because he fancies someone else — a guy).

I think Ginny would be hit hard. I think at first she wouldn't really believe it, like: "if you want to break up with me you don't need an excuse," but when she realizes it really isn't an excuse, that he's serious, I think she'd accept it, she wouldn't really blame Harry. But a lot of her own identity is mixed up in dating Harry Potter, so I think Ginny would be having a miserable time and would go back to avoiding being around Harry until she built up her self-confidence again or found a better relationship (or both). Like, I think she'd spiral a bit if it were to happen during 8th year (or a bit after) after they were back together for a bit. For Harry, he'd feel a little bad about Ginny, but, like, he was never as invested in their relationship as she was, so he'd take the breakup easier.

If they actually got married and had at least one kid and then Harry tells her, that's gonna be a mess for both of them (but better than if it happened in 8th year, I think). Harry would feel so incredibly guilty that he'd probably decide not to tell her for the longest time so he wouldn't ruin it. Once he does tell her, though, Ginny would be devastated (and still won't show Harry any of it, or maybe she would, depends how her character developed up to that point). I think an illogical part of her would always blame herself a little — like she could've done something different to avoid this outcome even when she knows it doesn't work that way. But I think in this scenario their divorce wouldn't be as bad as if Harry was interested in another girl. Like, I think Ginny would prefer him falling for a guy rather than another woman for her own ego's sake. Even if I can't see their relationship being amazing after this, they'd both be mature enough to make it a decent divorce by this point, I would like to believe.

It would be pretty awkward as Harry is still invited to the Weasleys for all the holidays and could maybe make a fun oneshoot fic of the first Christmas at the Weasleys after Harry's and Ginny's divorce.

[lizzybeeee]

DATV explaining the 'Regret Prison'

A REGRET PRISON IS STUPID AND I'M TIRED OF PRETENDING THAT ITS NOT

TL;DR: a prison can serve as a metaphor but it shouldn't be entirely comprised of a metaphor.

From what I understood from what the game gave us: Solas has made a new prison to move the God's too - since bringing down the veil would free them from the Black City. This new prison is separate(?) from the fade or so far removed/contained that bringing down the veil would not compromise it...apparently. We interrupt his ritual, Solas gets sucked into the new prison he made, and the elven gods are free.

When Rook gets kicked into the fade they're physically there - which means it's a physical place in the fade, like how it was a mixture of physical/thought when we entered it in DAI. Which makes sense - the gods are real and living beings, they need to be in a place, there must be some aspect of physicality to it.

Alright, cool, it's a Black City 2.0 - I assume it's better defended to prevent people breaking in/out again?

NOPE.

We get there and it's a 'regret prison'?? It's tied to the regrets of those within it? Composed of regrets??? Solas had to wait for the right moment for Rook to be sufficiently 'full of regret' that they could switch places?

So is the prison tied to Solas's regrets? If so, how can Rook escape? The prison seems to work around the idea that it relies on the regrets of the person it's holding to work - which is how/why Rook was able to be trapped and later free themselves (along with whatever remains of the team apparently being able to do something on their end, not that we hear about it).

WHICH IS STUPID!

Are you telling me the prison intended to hold to megalomaniac elven gods was going to imprison them based on their own regrets? Is Solas assuming that Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain are as self-pitying as he is? They'd break out quicker than Rook did! He made a time out corner for the elven gods to sit in and gave them an out if they reflected on their emotions/regrets or decided that they don't regret what they did. Elgar'nan, a spirit of tyranny, is not going to 'regret' his actions - he is going to justify them by telling himself and others that he knows what's best.

We can come across some of Solas's regrets in the prison if you run around a bit and explore:

Remnant of Failure - talking about the orb from Inquisition.

Remnant of Parting - talking about Mythal

Remnant of Reflection - more vague, talking about the Titans I believe.

So maybe he altered it - maybe he intended the prison to be 'locked' with his own regrets because after a millennia of having a pity party he still can't bring himself to self-reflect and look to the future. But what if Solas died? Or if his guilt lessened - would it diminish the strength of the regret prison?

We already have pre-established lore (though DATV has shown they don't really give a crap tbh) that once the being that has claimed/altered an area of the fade is slain, it's influence diminishes both in and outside of the fade. So if the prison was tied to his regrets then it would require Solas to basically live forever to keep it stable - especially if he brought down the veil and removed the one barrier that kept the world and the fade apart.

Rook and Solas needed some assistance to exit - but it doesn't seem like it was much! Solas used his dagger and Rook just...got out through a fade tear? This is Solas's 'more secure' second prison? It has a worse track record than the Black City! If Rook - who is not an elven god - managed to escape the regret prison what is to stop anyone else from breaking in and out of the prison?

And what did Solas intend to do with the blight - the bulk of which is apparently in the black city?? If bringing down the Veil would free the gods in the black city doesn't that mean that the blight would also be released?! Did he have a plan? Why does he go fully ahead with bringing down the veil at the end if the black city is still there and filled with blight?!

I get it: the 'regret prison' is a metaphor for how Solas holds onto the past and how Rook can move past their regrets and grow. He's trapped by the past - it's a prison. Cool. But this prison is supposed to by a physical place to contain the gods - not just to solely contain Solas. The mission is literally called 'A Cage for Gods'.

The Black City is an actual place that's so far out of reach of anywhere else in the fade that no mage can ever reach it while in dreams - let alone physically, which was only done once and took tremendous effort/blood sacrifices. It made sense - it was cool to see floating in the sky in DAO!

Though it's not said specifically, it's strongly implied that Arlathan is the Black City. You can see in the concept art that floating elven city is exactly the same as the black city in DAO! It's this foreboding thing just lurking in the sky - a constant reminder of the sin that led to the horrors of the blights and darkspawn. A real place with lore and history that also serves as a metaphor for the hubris and destruction of those who call themselves gods and act as tyrants -> for both the evanuris and the magisters.

I WANT TO UNDERSTAND THIS BIOWARE!

WHAT IS THIS KINGDOM HEARTS NONSENSE???!!

[mythicalfein]

'𝕥𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕟 𝕤𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

"So, we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend, 'tis the damn season write this down.."

a/n: pt 1??

cw: abbyandersonxreader, nsfw!,mdni!, failed relationship, kinda wrote this quick, angsty,

I hated being back in my hometown for the holidays. A constant reminder of why I left- why I packed my bags as soon as I graduated and moved from the cold, barren nights of New York to Los Angeles. Leaving filled an insatiable need in my life that I desperately craved, to move from this depraved life I was set up in and leave. And I loved L.A, the magical nights spent grinding up against girls in nightclubs, buying them drinks and leaving in a hushed manner the next morning.

That's why Abby was so mad when I left.

Abby was my girl- my beautiful girl whom I adored with everything. I wanted her to come with me, that was the plan. We had a fight the night before I left, a big one. Regretted words were thrown, and she had stormed out of my house before I had even gotten the chance to say goodbye to her. So, perhaps moving to the city of angels was perfect for soothing my hungering need to fill the hole Abby had left with a few one night stands. But I had never found another woman like her.

After an abundatnly long and awkard dinner spent with my parents I had claimed to go on a walk to the store, but I honestly wasn't trying to walk to any particular place. With a joint settled between my two fingers, I tried my hardest to sheild it from the snow attempting to fall onto it as I attempted to light the tip. After a frustratingly difficult bit of time, it lit, and I began to stroll down the town square street. Honestly maybe growing up in New York wouldn't have been too bad if I grew up somewhere like the city, but unfortunately I was cursed with living upstate. The winters were cold- depressingly cold. The trees I walk next to are dead. And I feel my stomach sink with a pit of loneliness that I attempt to inhale away. Which is when I feel a shoulder crash into mine.

"Ah- I'm sor-" An all too familiar voice twitches next to me before pausing and taking me in. A large figure, sported in a black winter coat and matching cotten hat. The tip of her nose and her temples are red and she looks at me with confusion. "...you.. I thought you-"

"I- I'm home for break..

...Abby?"

She nodded profusely. "Yeah- it's Abby.."

The wall came crashing down, my body flew into her large arms as I felt her wrap around me. "I didn't think I would see you again.." she murmured against my shoulder as she pulled me in tighter. "I was hoping I would see you." I tell her unashamedly. I tear my head from her chest as I look up at her. "How are you? What are you doing?" Abby laughs down at me. "I mean.. I live here. I just got out of work." I tilt my head, "Where do you work?" "I own the auto body store on main street, the one my dad had?" I smile, remembering how sweet her father was. As great of a mechanic he was, he was as equally great as a man. "Oh my god, how is Jerry?" I ask. Abby lowers her head a bit. "Ah- he um.. he passed away last winter, actually." My smile drops. "Oh, I'm- I'm so sorry Abby." She shakes her head. "Don't worry about it.."

We both just stand there for a bit, looking at each other.

"Do..do you wanna come over? I'm making dinner"

"Yeah, yes, of course." I say, shaking my head and ignoring the fact I just ate dinner.

And the walk back to her apartment almost made the cold New York winter seem warm again. Like colorful christmas lights and hot cocoa.

Her living space was small but comfortable- looking enough. She had a large decorated living room with a bit of a kitchen in the corner and a door that I assumed lead to her bedroom. Heaps of blankets were draped over every couch and silly pillows and stuffed animals decorated the cushions. The second I stepped into her home I smelled a warm sensation coming from her kitchen which I soon discovered was a pot of stew she had been simmering which made me a little happy that I decided to come over during this horribly cold weather to eat some hot stew.

"That should be ready soon enough, want a drink?" Abby asks as she peels her coat from her back. "Glass of wine?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." I reply as I take a seat on her couch. "Red-" I reply too late as she sticks out a glass of red wine to me. "Haha, I remember." she saids with a grimace. "So, how's L.A? Partying hard?"

"Eh, I guess so. I'm writing for this news company-" I say before going off about my job for the next few minutes. "But, no, how's everything back here?"

"It's.. okay.." she replies in a hushed tone, looking down at her glass of wine. "Miss your smile around here. Everything's been a little bland." I nod my head slowly at her.

"Well- I've missed you." I say softly. "I wish you would've came with me."

"I wish you would have stayed."

"I wish you listened to me."

"I wish you would kiss me right now."

We both stay silent for a few moments before my lips go crashing to hers, illiciting silent moans from the back of her throat. I grab her collar, pulling her big, stupid face into mine. I pull away momentarily to whisper against her lips. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you so fucking bad."

I feel her thigh slip in between my legs as we begin to kiss deeper, her hand wrapping itself softly around my neck as I begin to grind. My heat rubbing over her definded thigh, sinking into her as I groan with pleasure. I only intensified my breathing when her teeth dug into the side of my neck, nipping my skin and smoothing the bruised area with her tounge.

My cunt still kept its motion on her thigh, grinding back and forth with more pressure than before. "-fuckfuckfuck-" I begin to pant. "It's okay baby.." She whispers against my ear.

"You've gotta come home more often.."

[helianskies]

ugly maths.

i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.

thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!

you... wanna see?

okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!

ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!

huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—

better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—

mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?

here, i can make it worse.

these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.

now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.

why ugly?

because it makes me ugly.

those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.

87, 75.

the thoughts are as follows:

• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.

• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.

• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!

okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:

that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.

4, 708.

ugly maths.

the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!

27.

mmmm.

6161, 1061.

5100.

87, 75.

12.

mmmm.

you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(

it made me :)

well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.

they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.

1.

have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?

i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.

oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.

ready?

838, 245.

(want a hint? the green numbers!)

838, 87. 245, 75.

9.6, 3.3.

ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!

the numbers make me ask new questions:

• why is it not good enough?

• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?

• is all this maths this really good for you?

no, it isn't.

i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.

ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.

ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.

i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.

[forgetbeam]

i’m doing little pixel art sprites of a bunch of my ocs for my toyhouse and only when putting my two groups of 4 young adults next to each other did i realise how fucking similar they are. like i basically made one set of ocs, pressed shuffle, and got the other set. they’re the same 4 main colours [blue, yellow, pink, and green tho i did just change one of those to teal] and they have roughly the same personalities just in different configurations. how have i even managed this

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TWO YAKUZA HEIRS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO MARRY YOU ?? ❞

✧ pairing: yakuza!satoru gojo x f!reader x yakuza!suguru geto

✧ summary: you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, inspired / dialogue / scene concepts taken from the manga “yakuza fiance,” (which the fic is named after), reader's age is ambiguous, but all are 20s+, violence (as expected from mafia / yakuza stories), blood, stsg have tattoos, implied satosugu (just a passing mention of dating briefly), stsg have sadomasochistic tendencies, a little ooc, switch! gojo (very sub gojo), switch! geto, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), double penetration, sex (p in v), creampie, poly relationship implied ending,

✧ wc: 18,476

���I don’t want to marry either of you,” 

And your statement is met with confused stares — and normally stares like this wouldn’t be terrifying to the average person, but these were not average men you were dealing with. 

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were anything but average — in many ways. 

Both were incredibly handsome — Satoru was blessed with a piercing blue gaze of the heavens and snow white locks that could stun any person into silence, and Suguru was no slouch either — with long inky black locks tied into a neat bun and his sharp features and his almost all too alluring smile — the two of them looked like they belonged to a modeling agency. Both were also brilliant, attending one of the best high schools in Tokyo, before going to the best university, leading in their respective specialities (Satoru studying physics, while Suguru chose literature). 

And, the two were both the heirs to two of the most dangerous Yakuza families in all of Japan. 

But right now, they are your biggest problems, personified. 

Their families were both vying for your hand in marriage — thanks to your meddling grandfather who shipped you off to Tokyo to get a would-be Yakuza husband — your yakuza family hoping to broker peace after decades upon decades of fighting with one of the other two biggest yakuza families around — the Gojo and Geto families respectively. 

“Excuse me?” Suguru speaks first, a single eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his crisp white button up. 

“I’m not here for this yakuza bullshit. I’m trying to live my own life — and I’m not in the mood to get swept along in my grandfather’s wishes for me to get married,” your hand is in your bag, fingers curled around your collapsible metal pole, “and I don’t care to know either of you, I don’t really care to stick around you — especially because all its earned me is the disdain of all the other students who have crushes on you — so how about we simply tolerate each other for this year?” 

Satoru whistles, “how disappointing,” his eyes raking over you from head to toe, “you’re worse than your reputation — we heard you were a stuck-up, spoiled rich girl that would do anything to get her way, but turns out you’re just normal,” he sticks out his tongue and makes a gagging noise, “how boring,” 

“Truly tiresome,” Suguru hums, his bangs falling in his dark gaze, “I was looking forward to a woman who could match up to us — maybe fuck me up, punish me, and strip away my dignity — type of girl who’d ruin my life, do you understand?” 

You stare at him, lips parted, brow furrowed, “What?” 

“In other words, we were hoping you were much more interesting than you were — as you are now, you’re just useless,” Satoru sighs dramatically, his pink lips curled in a smile, “bor-inggggg,” 

“You might as well go back to Osaka, or wherever it was you came from,” Suguru shrugs, hands in his pockets, as he pulls a cigarette and a lighter, “you could stay, but as it stands, you would be better off back home — maybe it would even start a war — that could be fun, Satoru,” he remarks, his grin growing more sinister by the minute, as he places the cigarette between his lips, and lighting it. 

“Let’s actually not be so hasty, Suguru. She could have some use,” he holds out his fingers to frame you between them, “could be worth something if we have her work at one of our families clubs — selling her body. She could make some use for us,” he says cruelly, “Otherwise, go back home, and let them know we’re the ones not interested in you,” he says, brushing past you along with Suguru. 

And you couldn’t decide which one of their smiles were the most bone chilling — and why you couldn’t quite find your voice in that moment. And you didn’t — not until you finally reached home, your phone ringing. 

“How’s it going, dear granddaughter?” you could hear the grin of the old coot even over the phone — and how could you tell him you wanted to go home now? You had hoped to go there to give two rejections — not earn two of your own. You hoped to stick out the year before leaving this place behind, if only to appease your grandfather. 

“I’m fine, but I think…I think I’m homesick,” you sit on the edge of your bed, hunched over, hand holding your head up, propped against your knee. 

“Why’s that? Did something happen?” 

“Nothing, I just—” 

“You’re not coming back home,” and your hopes fall, “one year, you have to stay one year no matter what. Don’t care if you have to fight with every bone in your body and fiber of your being — last a year,” 

“But why—” 

“Make those boys fall for you, and then break their hearts, heh — your grandfather is a heartbreaker and I know you can do the same,” and you know his lips are curled in a smile not too dissimilar to the two men you met today, “don’t forget where you come from — and what you’re worth,” and he cuts the line, as you stare at your phone, before tossing it away and lying back. 

Well, you know what you had to do. 

~~~

“Morning,” you know where’d they be — the only free period they had together that they spent in the dining hall with their entourage — including some girls who had been harassing you about how you knew the pair — ones you had suspected in fucking with your locker, smearing mud all over your shoes. A small retaliation for capturing their precious crushes’ attention.

The two heirs only stare for a moment — it had been two weeks since they had seen you, “thought I had gone home?” 

“Surprised you didn’t,” Suguru remarks, utterly disinterested from the look in his eyes, despite the smile plastered on his lips, “guess I lost the bet, Satoru,” 

You raise an eyebrow at Satoru, “you thought I’d stay?” 

“Thought you'd stay to take me up on my offer to sell your body,” he holds out his hand as Suguru slaps a stack of bills in his palm, “did you?” 

“I did actually,” your lips curl, as their gazes slide to one another, before you drop a bag on their table, “one kidney, 5,000,000 yen,” and you take delight in the smiles that slide off their expressions, as they stare at you, Satoru looking over the lip of the bag before you knocked it over and let the stacks of money spill over the table, “it took two weeks since it took a while to arrange and recover, but it was well worth it,” 

The pair only can stare — expression unreadable and words seemingly stolen from their mouths, as you only smiled down at them, your gaze digging into their faces like daggers.

Suguru’s eyebrows knit together, “How did you—“ 

“Friend of a friend,” you shrug, “I’ll have to be on a low sodium diet and probably do blood work a little more frequently but you were right about one thing — I was being weak,” you lift up your shirt to show the bandage on your side, their eyes wide, as they can only stare, “I won’t be making that mistake again,” 

And you place your foot up on their table, leaning in, as the mask slips from your face, and your anger surges forth, “listen here, you masochistic fuckers, I’m not scared of either one of you. I don’t care if I have to crawl home choking on my own blood, I’ll be sure you’re choking on each other’s as I drag you both to hell. I’m staying here, whether either of you like it or not,” 

“You can’t talk to them like that—“ one of the girls pipes up, her lips twisted in a frown. 

“I can talk to them however I want - do you know who I am? I come from a family just like there’s but we actually know how to cover up our crimes,” you chuckle, head tilting, “do you know how easy it’d be to get rid of you two?” Your gaze slides to the other girl, “it’d be all too simple — and trust me, I’d get my hands dirty if it’s the two of you,” your lips curl into a wide grin as you add, “after all, you guys did me the favor of dirtying my shoes already,” 

And the two blanch white, all indignance replaced with genuine fear — and you had never known someone could look at you as someone to be feared. 

And you didn’t know you would like it so much. 

You staple the smile on your face again, as the two heirs still sit speechless in their seats, eyes glued to you,  “Well that’s all,” you slide back, “I have to head to class—” 

But then your wrists are caught — pulling you back, as you find yourself pinned on either side by the two heirs, your body tense, before your gaze slides between them, “What?” 

“Marry me,” they both say simultaneously — and you gape at them. 

You are pushing them back, palms pressed against their chests, but find yourself met with two immovable objects, instead trying to squirm out of their grips. “What?” And their grips loosen enough for you to take a step back, but their hands remain around your wrists. 

“I have to have you,” Suguru presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, dark gaze lidded as he looks up at you, and a shiver climbs up your spine, “I’ve never been so terrified or turned on in my life — it must be love,” 

Satoru is the same, mesmerized with eager words, “I want you to do what you promised, Princess — ruin my life,” Satoru’s lips curled in a wide grin, “want you to completely fuck me up, dominate my entire life — and there’s only one way to do that, marry me,” 

Suguru only scowls at Satoru, “You know Satoru, it’s very rude to propose after your best friend does,” Suguru’s gaze slides to him, “she’s mine,” and his other hand finds your shoulder, pulling you against his chest, even as you struggle against their grips, “her family reached out to mine first,” 

“Fuckers, I swear to god, let me go—“ but they act as if they can’t hear you, a current of possessiveness sweeping their thoughts away. 

“So what? Her family decided to ask for my hand — looks like yours wasn’t good enough,” Satoru only grins, pulling you against him instead, his breath warming your flushed skin, as you grimace, “and I’d make her happier than you ever would.” 

“Want to take this outside, Satoru?” Suguru’s glare sent chills down your spine, but Satoru’s lips split into a smile so wide, you were afraid his head would crack in two. 

“Why? Feeling lonely? Go by yourself,”

And finally you stomp on Satoru’s foot before elbowing Suguru in the stomach, drawing groans from both boys, as you stumble away from them, whirling to face them, “Don’t treat me like your goddamn property or that I’m a prize to be won,” your words slip like venom from your lips, “don’t ever fucking touch me without asking,” 

“Of course, we’re sorry,” Suguru only grins after, holding his stomach, but he still looks all too delighted, “you should reprimand us like the scum we are, isn’t that right Satoru?” 

Satoru nods, pouting, “Yeah we deserve more of a punishment,” and your skin crawls at their eagerness. 

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you two, but I don’t want anything to do with it,” you walk away, hiding your dumbstruck expression, but the two only followed you. 

“You can’t just walk away from us, you have to decide who you want,” Suguru calls after you, their long strides meant they caught up all too fast, and you’re armed with your collapsible pole now, pointing it at both of them. 

“Two minutes ago, both of you thought I was normal and boring,” your eyes narrow — was this another plot to just sell you to some club? 

“And I’m sorry about that sweetheart,” Satoru’s arm is around your waist again, while Suguru’s fingers intertwined with yours, “we were clearly wrong — and you have to take responsibility,” 

You stare at them, “for what?” 

And he’s leaning to whisper in your ear, “I’m so hard for you right now,” And you’re whirling on them with the pole, but they both expertly dodge your assault, before you’re hurrying away. But they let you go, watching after you with a grin. 

“This is going to be fun,” Suguru remarks, looking at his best friend, “I can’t guarantee I won’t kill you for her hand,” 

Satoru only smirks in reply, “You stole the words out of my mouth, Suguru.” 

~~~

It had been a week — a week of you trying skillfully to evade the two yakuza heirs. 

And you had failed. No matter how fast you left your classes, where you hid, where you sat — the two always found you. And now you have resorted to sitting outside to eat your lunch, being careful to avoid any stray glance of your presence. You sat, back against the building, as you held your head, bento box in your lap — how long until they would get the message? How long until they figured out you wanted nothing to do with them? 

Your grandpa had told you to make them fall for you, but you didn’t think you had too much more to do with how the two were following you around, dogging your every step. 

How would you last another year? 

You opened your bento — at least for once, you could enjoy your lunch without one of them— 

“There you are,” and your lunch nearly goes tumbling out of your lap, but you grasp it, keeping your food from spilling out of your bento, and you turn to meet the gaze of Suguru, leaning against the windowsill, “you’re a fast one, sweetheart,” his head tilted and lips curled in his signature smile. 

“How the fuck did you find me so fast?” you stare at him, brow furrowed, “it’s barely been five minutes, and this campus is huge,” 

“It’s the power of love, of course,” you cringe, and he laughs, bringing his knuckles to his lips, “oh rather, it’s the power of the tracking device I slipped in your bag,” 

And you blink, “You what?” 

He shrugs, “Well how else would I have found you so quickly? I’ll slip it in your shoe next time,” and he sighs, as you dig through your bag, before turning it upside down and letting your things spill out on the grass, “besides, there’s a good reason I’m tracking you,” and you find the tracker before stomping on it, digging your heel into it, crushing it into the dirt, “there’s been a kidnapping of another Yakuza heiress,” 

And your eyes flit to him, and he’s still smiling at you, “Who?” you continue to collect your things, shaking out textbooks and examining your things for any other hidden trackers. 

“You’ll learn tonight — come to the compound tonight — you’ve been formally invited by both my father and Satoru’s father,” and he’s hopping out of the window, fingers brushing yours as he hands you your pencil case, and he’s all too close now, his warm breath warming your lips. 

“And if I refuse?” and his lips curl in a smirk. 

“You’d be offending not only my family, but Satoru’s as well—” and he’s rising to his feet, offering you a hand, “and it might end in an all out war, but that would be just fine for us — would it for you?” 

You glare at him, taking his hand reluctantly, as he helps you to your feet, and you brush the dirt from your skirt and legs, “Fine, what time?” 

“After school, Satoru will be waiting by the gates for you,” he smiles, as he settles next to you, pulling out his own lunch, and you tilt your head, “oh are you curious about me? I have my own business to attend to,” 

“Is that what the other bastard is up to?” and he chuckles at that, taking a bite of his food. 

“Something like that.” 

~~~~

“Took you long enough, pretty,” the Gojo heir’s eyes drag over you like spotlights as he leans against the gate outside, the other students staring as you two speak, whispering as they walk by, slowing down to either catch a longer glance at Satoru or hear a bit of your conversation, “with being so quick to leave for lunch, I thought you’d be just as quick leaving the building,” and he’s offering you a drink from the vending machine that you reluctantly take. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to being a spectacle,” you grumble, as you power walk away from the burgeoning traffic jam that Satoru was causing, and he follows behind, “why do they all stare anyway? They know you're a yakuza, don’t they?” 

“Part of the draw,” he shrugs, the hiss of his own soda filling the air as he pops it open, “everyone wants what they can’t have, but don’t worry, I only have eyes for you, sweetheart,” you grimace as he sips at his soda, raising an eyebrow, “so what can’t you have?” 

You both finally reach the heart of the city, bustling with people left and right — the one thing you couldn’t get used to from the quieter life you led, “Some peace and quiet, apparently,” you adjust your bag on your shoulder in a tighter grip, if only you could lose him in this crowd and be done with all this shit, but it wasn’t that simple, and then it occurs to you, “did you put a tracker on me as well?” 

“Nah, I just used Suguru’s,” he smiles, as he downs the rest of his drink with his head thrown back, before crushing the can in his hand and tossing it away in the recycling bin nearby, “plus, I didn’t have time, been busy with other things, unfortunately,” 

“What things have you—” 

And you’re suddenly tugged into an alleyway, an arm around your neck and a hand clamped over your mouth, “Don’t struggle, it will only make it more difficult for you,” the man whispers in your ear, as another two men draw closer to your sides, “we’ll kill you if you do,” 

You can’t scream, but you don’t need to — because the man who grabbed you screams first. 

“Who the fuck are—” and he screams, his hands slipping from your side, the thump of his body against the pavement making you flinch, as you slowly turn to find Gojo, as he only glares at the other men, before his gaze slides to you, softening with a smile. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, come here,” and you swallow, before taking shaky steps to his side, and he’s pulling you behind him, “wait here,” 

It happens far too quickly.

Or maybe it’s just a blur now. Because now he’s beaten the three men into submission, their scarlet blood splattering against his uniform, the wet squelch of their flesh as he punches and kicks them, his shoe digging into their sides. He winds his fist back again. 

“That’s enough,” you say hoarsely, swallowing thickly, “they’re barely alive,” 

“More than they deserve,” he mutters, before sighing and grabbing one by his shirt, fabric straining against the dead weight of the man, and pulls him close, his hand connecting with his face as he slaps him awake, “You hear me? Listen,” he shakes him, until the man’s eyes blink open, bleary, “You see me? Don’t forget my face. You touch her again — and it’s the last thing you’ll see before the afterlife, got that?” 

“Yes,” the man slurs. 

“That’s my girl,” he jerks his head at you, “she’s mine and if you or any of your stupid friends or family see her, don’t talk or touch her, much less even look at her,” and his lips curl again, “or I promise my family and the Geto family will slaughter you — until there’s nothing left.” and he drops the man onto the ground, “let’s go,” he mutters, shaking the blood off his knuckles, before using the inside of his uniform jacket to wipe the rest off. 

“Your uniform, it's—” and he glances at the blood seeping into the fabric of his jacket and crisp shirt, and you’re digging through your bag, “I have my hand towel and some—” and he’s shaking his head. 

“I have a sweatshirt I can wear in my bag,” and he’s tugging off his uniform jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, and you can’t look away fast enough — not before seeing the tattoo littering his back. 

A large lion against his back, seemingly roaring, against a backdrop of bamboo, stared back at you, as your breath catches in your throat — he wasn’t just a spoiled heir, he was a real yakuza. And what he did to those men — his eyes met yours again, as he tugged the sweatshirt on, lips still in that ridiculous smile — it was likely the least of what he could really do to them. 

“Oh, sorry, guess I never told ya,” he pulls the orange sweatshirt down, pulling a pair of sunglasses on, and your horrified expression in the circular black rims stare back at you, “sorry for scaring you, sweetheart,” 

“You’re really—” you cut off, heart caught in your throat. Yeah, you had spent too much of your life surrounded by men covered in tattoos, but these two — their auras — were on another level that was simply — terrifying. 

“A yakuza?” he finishes, peering at you over the rim of his sunglasses, “Surprised it took you this long to figure out — thought you had that pieced together a while ago — what? I assume your family shielded you from that kind of violence — probably had guards on you 24/7 so no one would mess with you. Well you aren’t in Osaka anymore,” his fingers intertwined with yours, his larger hand engulfing yours as he tugs you along away from the alley, the faint groans of the men disappearing into the ambient noise of the city, “Stay close, princess.” 

And you flushed, biting your lip. There was a lot you didn’t know, but you knew you better learn — you spare one glance back at the alley — and quick. 

~~~

You both arrive back to the compound, as you’re funneled into a room, you get a glimpse of Suguru in an adjacent hallway, his clothes as bloodied as Satoru’s was, if not more. His dark eyes catch yours and his lips curl, as he holds his hand up as a greeting, mouthing, “Yo,” 

You’re shepherded away to sit, and soon enough, Satoru and Suguru join you, as you fidget in the middle of the room, the three of you sit on cushions, while another cushion directly in front of you. Your fingers can't help but toy with the ribbon on the front of your uniform — what if this was just a ruse to sell you off? Maybe they even found out about you selling your kidney? Anxiety swirled in your mind, dragging down your body to even the tips of your toes, your body buzzing and stinging with thoughts. 

“This really is just a talk to discuss the missing Yakuza heiress,” Suguru cuts through your thoughts, as you stare at him, slack jawed, and he only shrugs, leaning back against his hands flat on the floor, “you’re not hard to read, sweetheart,” 

“Besides, if we wanted to kill you, why not let you die in that alleyway?” Satoru chimes in, ever so helpful, as you glare at him, before his gaze slides to Suguru, “did you take care of that like I asked, Suguru?” and he nods, and before you can ask a question, the door slides open. 

Instead of the heads of the household, a yakuza comes in, sunglasses stare back at you, his dark brown hair slicked back, shaved on the sides of his head, as he stared down at the three of you, “The heads won’t be able to make it to this meeting — something has come up,” 

“Yaga, good to see you,” Suguru chirps, while Satoru only sighs, hands behind his head. 

“Glad to see you haven’t gotten yourself killed since you’ve been away, old man—“ and Satoru earns a fist to his head, “ow!” 

“Keep it up and you’ll get something worse than a whack to the head,” Yaga grumbles, taking his seat, “you must be the girl,” he eyes you up and down, “I’ll get straight to the point — the Akazawa heiress is missing. She’s assumed to be kidnapped,” he hands you a photo of her — shoulder length black hair, her eyes look past the camera, her head tilted downwards, but her hazel eyes pierce through the picture. 

“How long has she been gone?” Suguru asks, “any chance that she just ran off?” 

“There’s a chance she’s been sold off for a couple hundred thou,” Satoru remarks, crossing his arms, “people would pay a premium for a yakuza heiress,” and his eyes slide to you, and you glare back. 

“We don’t know — maybe she ran off, maybe she’s been sold, maybe there’ll be a ransom coming in at one point or another, or maybe she’s dead—” and you bite your lip, “but we can’t take the risk, especially since we have a similar heiress under our care now,” Yaga says, crossing his arms with a hefty sigh, “that being said, you’ll be staying at the compound until further notice— your things have already been brought here,“ you gape at him, mouth nearly hanging open, “and you’ll have Satoru or Suguru with you at all times — their schedules have been rearranged to have class with you,” 

“But—“ and Yaga shoots a look at you that silences your protests. 

“These orders came from the three heads, including your grandfather, would you like to defy them?” And your mouth clamps shut, your head falling. 

“No, sir,” Yaga rises, leaving, but not before ordering the two heirs to show you where you’ll be staying, “and any real threats to you appear, and your classes will be made online and you will remain under guard in the compound,” Yaga adds before disappearing behind another door. 

“It won’t be that bad, Princess,” Suguru grins, as they walk you to your room, “now we can really get to know each other before we’re married,” 

“Don’t you mean before we’re married?” Satoru says, as Suguru only smiles back at him. 

“I would rather not marry you, Satoru, dating you for a week was enough—“ and Satoru opens his mouth to reply. 

“I’m not marrying either of you,” you rub your head, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping on your temples — you barely could make it through the day with enduring the amount of insanity these two already inflicted, you were sure you’d murder one or both of them if you had to spend 24/7 with them, “we should be keeping a low profile from now on, not going out—” 

“Except for the dates we have planned,” Satoru says, offering you the key to your room, and you unlock the door, stepping inside. 

“Especially not for those.” And you slam the door shut and lock it. 

Your eyes take in the boxes that surround you, full of the things from your apartment, and sigh. 

Fuck, this really was your life now, wasn’t it? 

~~~

“Why are you staring at me?” you can’t ignore Suguru’s stare in the subway, even when you refuse to meet it. The light from the windows flooded into the subway, flickering as the carts sped by, as the two of you hung onto the grab handles. Your usual peaceful ride to university was now impeded by Suguru who stood by your side, his eyes seemingly glued to you. 

“I see that your left side is slower to respond than your right,” and you shift under his gaze, “that’s why your bag is always on your left side, so you can spot a threat easier and have a stronger grip, smart,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “How did you figure that out?” 

He shrugs, “From observation — I also move a little slower on my left — I even blink slower,” and you face him, staring into his eyes, trying to notice any difference between the two eyes. The only thing you could see is how pretty they really were — dark and lidded, not as bright or striking as Satoru’s, but just as mysterious. 

“I can’t tell,” you tilt your head, and he only smiles. 

“There isn’t a difference, but I got you to stare into my eyes, didn’t I?” and you glower at him, your remark cut off by the influx of people flooding into the cart. Fuck, you never had seen it this full before. You forced yourself not to cringe under the tight quarters — you could handle this, it wasn’t a big deal, even as the people sandwiched themselves all around you, anxiety biting at your nerves. And then you’re knocked around by the crowd as the cart jerks, but then, Suguru is pulling you lightly so your back is pressed against a wall and he’s caging you in, his body protecting you. 

Your breath catches — he’s so close, “You don’t have to—” and your gazes meet again, your breath catching, your bag caught between your bodies. He’s nearly pressed against you, the heat from his form seeps into your own. And he smells good, despite the sticky heat of the summer lingering — something musky but sharp at the same time — what was that scent? 

“You seemed uncomfortable,” he says, his hand holding onto the grab handle above, “this seemed like the easiest solution, especially so I can protect you — it would be much easier to shield you with my body this way,” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, as he chuckles, before you’re sighing, “I’m not used to taking the subway — I used to have a car that took me back and forth,” you chew your lip, “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t take care of myself,” 

“Makes sense to have you driven — as a yakuza heiress, they wanted precautions,” Suguru nods, his eyes sliding around the cart, “you never know,” 

“Is that why your eyes keep scanning the subway cart?” you raise an eyebrow. 

And his lips curl, “I did say I’d protect you with my life, didn’t I?” 

“Did you mean that?”

A chuckle escaped his lips, a noise that makes your breath catch, as the cart jerks again, pressing you both even closer, “I never say anything that I don’t mean, princess.” 

~~~

“Is following me around really necessary even after classes?” you hadn’t bothered to pull your usual disappearing act — it was counterproductive in multiple ways (the first being that either of them would find you and the second being you had to be glued to one of their sides at all times), “it’s not like someone is going jump from the shadows and kidnap me on campus.” 

“You don’t know that for sure, do you, princess?” Satoru drawls lazily, as he twirls his dinner knife around his fingers with a skill that said he’d done it a million times before — probably instead of doing the thing he was supposed to be doing, “a man comes up behind you while you’re studying or shopping, presses a weapon or gun to your side, just out of view, and he’s got the perfect hostage,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “You sound like you’ve done it before,” and the knife stops between his middle finger and pointer, the tip pointed at you, as he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. 

“Don’t get jealous, sweetheart, you’re the only girl I’d want to kidnap,” he leans forward and swipes a mochi from your plate — even though he had already ate his own — and you scoff, as you turn your attention back to your neglected dessert, choosing to use your brain cells to focus on your food instead of this psycho. 

“How lucky,” you mutter, as you stab your remaining mochi instead of your escort, “do the two of you have to take shifts like this? I’m surprised the two of you aren’t glued to my sides 24/7 together,” 

“We thought it was only fair the two of us split our time — and as much as I’d like to spend each and every hour with you, we both unfortunately have other responsibilities to tend to,” and he takes a bite of the mochi, “plus, this way, we get to spend time with you alone without the other interfering, and trust me, if I saw you with Suguru,” his lips curl, “I’d interfere,” 

“Well you don’t have to be worried about that, because I don’t plan on being with either one of you,” you reply, “I’m here to finish school and go home as soon as I can,” 

“You won’t be saying that once I make you fall for me,” 

You get to your feet, as you pull out your wallet — but Satoru waves you off, already pulling out his card for the waiter, “You’d have a better chance making me fall for you if you tripped me,” you roll your eyes, as you round the booth, and quick as a light, you trip right into his arms, your body bumping against his chest as his arms steady you. A hand tilts your face up to meet cerulean eyes filled with mirth, “did you trip—” 

And then you spot the chair leg you had tripped over oh-so-gratefully, “I don’t need to resort to those measures to make you fall for me, princess,” his finger traces your jaw with a featherlight touch, “I have plenty of other ways to do that,” 

You get to your feet properly and shove him away, as he chuckled, as you rolled your eyes, “Maybe in your twisted dreams, but—” And Satoru is tugging you away from the booth — a tight arm around you waist, as you stammer, “what the fuck are you—” 

“Guy’s been following you — just spotted him from a distance,” he murmurs, and your shoulders tense, resisting the urge to look back, “just keep walking with me, don’t worry,” his arm gently squeezed you, “won’t let anything happen to you, princess,” 

“Don’t call me that,” you murmur, as he leads you back inside the closest building, “where are we—” and he’s pulling out his phone, texting several people. 

“Getting us a ride in case I need to get you to safety, and letting Suguru know of the situation,” he offers you a small grin, “I could send you back, but that would be that and you will be on lockdown. Things might be getting a little more interesting from here — so it’s your choice, will you stay or go?” 

You considered your choices — you could run away from this, go back to the compound, but going back was a guarantee that you would be stuck 24/7 in the compound and stuck there for the remainder of your time here. And these two would take full advantage of that. Plus, your mind wandered to the girl who had been taken — you wanted to know more about what happened to her and why you were being targeted next. 

“Let’s go,” and his lips curl. The two of you round several street corners, Satoru’s arm remains tight around your waist, as he leads to a more and more secluded corner of the city, “is this the right move?” your hand wanders into your pocket, fingers around your collapsible pole. 

He sighs dramatically, “Do you have such little faith in me, sweetheart?” 

“Considering the two of you are insane, yes, I do,” and he clicks his tongue at you, “where—” 

And someone punches you, fist connecting with your left cheek as you stumble sideways into the wall of a nearby building. You hear the cock of a gun, your eyes catch sight of the weapon pointed at Satoru. You caught a glimpse as your eyes flicker open, several men stand behind him, all bearing weapons of some sort. 

Your ears ring, as you clutch at your head, as you struggle to get your balance, your vision in your left eye blurry from the impact,  “Come with me, and your girlfriend won’t have to watch you die,” you feel something warm run down your nose, and you touch it — scarlet stains your fingers. 

Fuck. 

Your eyes flicker back to where Satoru stands, eyes flickering to you, a shiver running down your spine at his hard gaze — not a hint of euphoria left — his lips a thin line, and his fists clenched, “I’ll fucking kill you,” his words leave in a whispered hiss, and quick as lightning, the gun is knocked from his fingers, and Satoru’s got him pinned down, fist winding back to punch his head in. The other men don’t hesitate to join the fray, just as Satoru doesn’t hesitate to take them down, blood spilling from their bodies as they fall one by one. 

You said you would be stronger — that you wouldn’t let this happen again. You weren’t some person who needed to be sheltered away. Your fingers clutched at the pole in your pocket, pulling it out, as you slowly uncollapsed it — you were a yakuza heir, just as much as these two were. 

One of them got up to shaky feet, lifting up his knife to stab Satoru from behind, “DIE!” and you slam into his side, hitting over the head with the pole — a grisly crack as the pole nearly snaps against his skull. 

“Fuck off and die!” the words leave your lips as you taste your own blood dripping from your nose. And you can feel Satoru turn to see you, eyes wide as he stares —  your words burn as much as your head hurts, as you wipe the blood from your nose. 

And the men are all down now, as Satoru walks over to you, and his fingers reach gently for your face, as he examines the blood dripping, “it’s just a nosebleed,” you say, and his gaze softens ever so slightly, before darkening, as a groan comes from the man that punched you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your heart flutters at his gentle touch, the calluses of his fingers against your cheek, as he pulls tissues from his pocket to wipe the blood from your nose. 

And his eyes linger on your face for a moment, before he turns to the culprit, fingers clenched tightly around the napkin soaked in your blood. 

He drags the man up by the collar, shaking him, a gurgled groan leaving his bloody lips, “You might want to go, sweetheart — I have to make sure I let this one die for ever laying a hand on my woman—“ and you clasp your hand on his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“He’s half dead already �� you don’t need to finish the job,” and he pouts, shaking the man again for good measure. 

“You said he should die—“ 

You shrug, “People like this aren’t worth the trouble of killing. And you don’t need more problems on your hands — so if you’re doing this for me, don’t bother. Let’s just go,” 

And you see his lips slowly curl into a grin, as he pulls you into a hug, arms around you waist, as he runs his fingers through your hair gingerly, “I didn’t realize you cared, sweetheart,” and you frown, “don’t want me getting in more trouble, huh? If it’s for you, I’ll oblige, but you owe me one,” and his fingers slide under your chin. 

“Oi, is the party over without me?” A familiar voice calls, Suguru walks over, several other Yakuza in tow, his sleeves rolled up, as he takes a once over of the situation, seemingly uninterested in the scum, his eyes falling on you and Satoru, lingering on the blood that still was trickling from your nose. His eyes narrowed, “which one—” 

“It’s already taken care of, Suguru,” Satoru rubs the back of his head, “but for your information,” he kicks the one who had punched you in his side, forcing him to roll over, a slight groan escaping his lips, “that’s the one who hurt her,” 

Suguru nodded, stepping over the bodies as if it was nothing more than a spill that had been yet to be cleaned up, as his hand brushes over your chin softly, drawing close, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his fingers decide to travel to your nose, “It’s not broken, just bleeding, but I should still get her checked out at the compound,” 

“You?” Satoru furrows his brow, “you’re going to leave me—” 

“To clean up your own mess? Yes, I am,” Suguru smiles, “because it’s my turn to keep watch,” as he shows his watch, already well past midnight, “and I should be getting her back to the compound,” the two glare at each other, a tension settling over the scene that you were far too done with. 

You sigh, stepping past both of them, walking over the bodies splayed out on the floor, “Let me know when you both decide,” you yawn, hands in your pockets now, “I need sleep,” and Suguru follows behind, and you don’t see him turn to smirk at Satoru. 

~~~~

You swore someone was watching you. 

A presence loomed over you, hovering slightly, as you shifted in your sleep, a sigh parting your lips as you turned, still caught between in realms of deep sleep as you drifted in and out, eyes fluttering open a moment, and caught sight of a shadow. 

No, it was nothing. It was nothing. And then you’d wake to sunlight filtering through your windows, eyes fluttering open, but you would still wake with the lingering touch of someone else against your face. 

But each morning you’d check the locks, and it would be locked, with no signs of tampering — and you’d be left wondering if it was a dream or not. 

It had been like this for the last week — you’d sense a presence, for a split second of what you thought was consciousness, and then it would be morning again. 

And finally, you decided to stay awake, a knife you had pilfered away from the kitchen under your pillow. You let your eyes drift shut, drifting in and out of a half sleep, until you hear it. 

The slow slide of the door opening, and the soft close of the door behind. The person takes nearly soundless steps towards you, before leaning above you and you feel the faint brush of hair against your skin, before leaning back with a quiet sigh. 

Suguru?

And his fingers slide through your hair softly. He watches over you, quietly, until you turn to face him, eyes open. 

“You know it’s really creepy to break into a woman’s room in the middle of the night,” and Suguru blinks, before his lips curl in a small smirk, “and it’s even weirder when you just sit there to watch her sleep,” 

“Just trying to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart,” 

“In a locked room?” And he shrugs. 

“I broke in easily,” and you scoff, as he rakes his own fingers through his hair, “who else would keep an eye on you?” 

You sit up, crossing your arms, “Surprised you and Satoru aren’t in here,” 

“We take turns,” and you stare at him, as he leans back against the wall, “all we do is keep watch princess — would you have let us in otherwise?” 

You open and shut your mouth, before you find words again amidst the haze of frustration, “I’m not so fucking helpless that you both need to sit here and watch me sleep,”

“We have been doing this since the threats began nearly and you only noticed recently,” he points out, his eyes catching the faint light of the moon, as cautious and patient as Suguru was — his expression as indiscernible as a new moon was, “and it’s only because Satoru had gotten sloppy,” he shrugs. 

You rub at your temples, “you’re not the only one who is a yakuza—“ 

Suguru tilts his head, “Princess, you don’t know what it means to be one — not even your fingers have never been bloodied, and it should stay that way—“ 

Your fingers close around the handle of the knife as you lunge at him — you snapped. You were tired — tired of the men in your life running your life — your grandfather, these yakuza heads, and these two idiots — all of them treating you as if you were spineless. 

And you weren’t. 

His hand darts out — and it happens quickly. The knife clatters against the hardwood, and he’s pinned you underneath him. 

You glare, embarrassment licks at your cheeks like flames — you had placed your fingers on the stovetop and what were you expecting other than to get burned? You can’t meet his gaze, and you’re expecting another lecture or sanctimonious attitude, but instead, his fingers skim your cheek, “You should pick your battles wisely, sweetheart — because not all of them will let you off the hook,” and he leans close, breath warming your lips, as your eyes can’t help but squeeze shut. 

Only to wince after a sharp flick to your forehead. 

And his weight leaves you at once, your head turning to find him examining the knife you had stolen, “You should also choose a better weapon than a kitchen knife — especially one as dull as this one,” 

You scowl at him, “Well, how else will I defend myself?” 

And he smiles, shrugging, “Isn’t it simple? Use the weapons already at your disposal,” 

Your brow knots together, “What weapons?” And his hand is sliding the door open, as he casts one more glance over his shoulder, lips curled in that insufferable smile. 

“The ones sworn to you.” 

~~~~ 

“You’re staying home tomorrow from class,” the thermometer is plucked from between your lips, the white haired yakuza scrutinizing your room, cerulean eyes catching the pile of tissues you had failed to stuff properly in your trash bin, “how long have you had this, Princess?” 

You lay bedridden and pouting as you draw the covers over your face — you had not been feeling well this whole weekend, but you developed a fever last night. You thought it would be gone by the morning, “Just since this morning,” and he’s tugging the covers away, his brow wrinkled, and then you see it, bandages on his forehead, “when did you get hit on the head?” 

And he blink, fingers running through his hair, “This? It’s nothing,” and you raise an eyebrow, “if you must know, it’s just my punishment for taking you into the thick of things the other day,” 

Your brow wrinkles, “Who—“ 

He waves you off, “It’s not important — the important thing is that you get better — can’t have my future wife succumbing to the flu, now can I?” And you scoff. 

“I’m not your future wife,” you mumble, and you hear a small chuckle from him. And then your muscles begin to grow heavy, eyelids fluttering shut under the weight of exhaustion, and your skin feeling far too cold for your burning insides, “Gojo, I’m not—“ 

And you slip into darkness. 

You can feel the world around you move, the sounds of wind brushing against your skin, and the flicker of lights in your eyes. Your lips part, a desert inside your mouth with no oasis in sight, “where—“

A voice quietly shushes you, fingers raking through your hair gently, lulling you back to sleep. Was it your grandfather? No, he never coddled you like this. Not even he had his yakuza to look after. You were expected to care for yourself —- you couldn’t show weakness. 

Not as an heir — even if you were just a kid. 

And when you do wake for a moment, it’s with some prodding, a voice whispering for you to open your mouth at the press of a medicine cap to your lips, and your eyes flutter open to catch a glimpse of blue eyes — so you do, swallowing it with water. 

You fall into the arms of sleep again, only waking to your head slightly aching, and a distinct void in your stomach. You reach around blindly for your phone, and find that it’s still Sunday, nearly the evening. Your eyes adjust as your gaze spots the last glimmers of the sunset in the window. 

How long have you slept? Like four hours? You sighed, slumping back into bed, as you stretched. Your fingers pressed to your forehead, still a slight fever, but it was definitely lower. Maybe you could sleep for a bit longer, and you turn on your side only to find a familiar, not-so familiar sight. Your lips can’t help but curl a little. Again there is someone in your room, but instead as your eyes flutter open you see that Satoru has dozed off.

You hold back a chuckle, as you slowly get up, drawing a little closer. His head was against the wall, slightly tilted, soft breaths leaving his lips, arms crossed. He had a prescription medicine next to him along with a water bottle. Your fingers reach for the medicine, and you glance it over — seeing that it was prescribed earlier today for you. 

Your brows knit together, when did you—and then it comes back to you slowly — the lights, the sound of wind and cars — he drove you to a hospital. And his shoulder starts to slip 

And then you reach for him, trying to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. 

That’s when he grabs you — his eyes fly open, as he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you close, his hard topaz gaze cuts through you, until it slowly fills with recognition. His fingers digging into your wrist loosen ever so slightly, as he blinks. 

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” but his fingers don’t leave your wrist, “are you feeling better?” 

“I am,” you admit, as his other hand reaches up to brush against your forehead and then neck, sending hest crawling up your skin for a different reason. 

“Looks like the medicine worked,” he sighs, leaning back, “guess I can scratch beating up that doctor off my list,” and you furrow your brow, “it was a joke, Princess,” 

“Why did you take me?” You asked and he tilted his head, “I mean you could have had me looked at here, so why did you—“ 

“As much as my father pays for these services, they don’t work weekends, usually — we do have an on-call physician, but,” he shrugs, as his thumb brushed back and forth against your wrist, right where your pulse was, “I didn’t want to wait,” 

And your eyes slide to the bandages around his head, “but you couldn’t get that checked out?” 

“Worried about me? I’m touched, Princess,” and your fingers reach for the bandages and brush against his locks, “hey, you—“ 

“It’s coming loose,” you lean over and slide your hands until you find where it’s coming undone and tie it tighter, fingers brushing against his soft locks — noting the undercut you hadn’t noticed before, “there,” 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his and your breath catches, your face an inch or two from his. And he looks different in the dark of the room, illuminated by the last vestiges of sun that were quickly fading into the night — softer. 

“Why did you take care of me?” And he blinks a moment, taken aback and he tilts his head, “someone else could have—“ 

“I wanted to,” he cuts you off gently, “why would I let someone else do it when I could? It was the least I could do,” and it was your turn to tilt your head, as he adds in a whisper, “I let you get hurt. I should have sent you home,” 

“If you had tried, I would have stayed anyway,” and he chuckles. 

“I know,” he murmurs, “and I know what it’s like to tough through things as if you’re invincible — as if nothing can touch you — and it’s only a matter of time until it does,” and your fingers brush against the bandages on his head, as you dare closer, less than a breath away. 

“Maybe I should make you take your own advice,” you whisper, and his lips quirk upwards in a smirk. 

“I’d love to see you try, Princess,” he adds with a grin, “you know I’d love to submit to you anyti—“ 

And you swallow the rest of his sentence with your lips, a chaste brush that leaves your entire body burning for more — a spark to kindling that you told yourself you wouldn’t start. But, your lips part his to see his soft gaze meeting your own, before finding your lips again, how could you not? 

“I’m going to get you sick,” you manage between kisses, lips meeting and parting, as he chuckles against you, a vibration sending a shiver that definitely wasn’t from your fever.

“You’re worth it, Princess,” but he kisses you one last time, noses brushing, before your stomach rumbles loudly in the relative silence of both of your soft pants. You flush, and he can’t hold back his laugh, as you smack his shoulder.  

“Shut up, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, thanks to someone,” and he’s still laughing as you try to smack him again, but he catches you by the wrist. 

“Don’t forget, I really like it when you punish me,” his lips press to your wrist, your breath catching for a moment before you hit him again on the chest regardless. And he laughs, leaning on his hand, “oh what will I do with you, sweetheart?” 

You scowl at him, rolling your eyes, “You can start by getting me dinner,” you grumble, and he repents, getting to his feet, “Satoru?” And he pauses, eyes flickering back, “thank you,” you manage, biting your lip all the whole, unable to meet his eyes or see the smile on his lips. 

“Anytime, Princess.” 

~~~~

You hadn’t seen Suguru or Satoru all week. 

Once a sought after rarity l, but now a foreboding concern. Satoru had been away on business — you didn’t care to know what, but you knew he’d come back only more clingy than ever. You chewed on your lip — especially after the kiss. 

Fuck. You kissed Satoru, you buried your face in your hands, what the fuck were you doing? Could you use the excuse that your fever had rendered you momentarily insane? No, Satoru would only crack a joke saying that he’s crazy for you too. 

What was your plan? You were only trying to bide your time for a year — not become further entangled 

You lay back on your bed, as you scroll through your phone — but Suguru was a different story. You heard from Satoru that he had returned. Yet now there was some random yakuza checking in each hour  — and even worse, keeping you confined to the compound. 

And a small part of you did worry for them as you tossed your phone aside — those fools may have death wishes but that didn’t mean you wished the same. 

You leave your room, sighing as you explore the compound. You had done your fair share of exploring, but you had never wandered into Suguru or Satoru’s quarters. You had been told by each of them where their rooms were, only for you to glare at them for providing you the implication. But now…maybe it was useful. 

You walked through the halls — seemed like most people were away at the moment. When Satoru had captured those people who had attacked you both, there was information learned about who was targeting you and of where that girl who was taken could possibly be. But it’s not like you were able to find that information out — unless you went looking yourself. 

Satoru and Suguru’s rooms were close to each other’s — but Satoru’s room was locked, as you tugged at the door to no avail. You glared at the handle as if it was the white haired idiot itself, before turning to Suguru’s door. 

You pressed your ear to the door, it was silent, not a single noise inside. You pull at the door and it opens. You step inside — the room is neat, a desk in the corner, along with a bed on the opposite side, but not much else. There were a few other things — a dresser with a few containers tucked beside it and a small bookcase against the wall near the desk lined with books on each shelf. 

It wasn’t what you expected — though you didn’t know what to expect. You stepped into the room, glancing around, as you approached the desk first. You rifle through the papers, finding nothing relevant — only papers from class and a few scattered notes that had nothing but addresses and initials scribbled. 

And then the door opens, you freeze, before you slowly turn to see Suguru, his clothes tattered, blood dripping from his arms and soaked through his white button up. His gaze is dark and heavy, until he finds your eyes, his brow wrinkled. 

“What are you doing?” no ‘sweetheart’ or ‘Princess’ — just a question. 

“I was looking—“ but you bite your lips, as you watch his shoulders slump, “what happened—“ 

And he draws closer, as you slowly take steps back, until he’s looming over you, his arm pressed above you, “Princess, you shouldn’t get involved in these things, unless you want to end up like this,” and the smell of death rolls off of him, the heaviness of his gaze could drag you down to the depths of hell — but you didn’t care. 

“Sit down,” and he blinks, before you’re pressing him onto the bed, “I’m going to get a first aid kit and some bandages,” 

“Sweetheart—“ but you’re already out of the room, returning with a first aid kit and bandages, “where did you—“ 

“Well after that first time Satoru and I got jumped by those people, I figured it would be good to stock up on things,” you pull out scissors and tape, and you dampen a washcloth you had stored in the kit with a water bottle you had grabbed. “Take off your shirt,” he hesitates, “getting shy?” 

Suguru’s lips curl, before he sighs, unbuttoning his shirt, “You know I rather you hurt me than take care of me,” and you scoff, as you busy yourself with preparing the materials to tend to him. 

“Well it looks like someone else already did that for you,” and your eyes meet with his bare chest, the red and black ink of his tattoos encroached onto his shoulders, but more than that — bruises bloomed on different parts of his body, scars from old wounds of various ages littered his skin, and dried and fresh scarlet clung to his skin from fresh cuts. 

You take the washcloth, slowly starting to run it over his body, the white cloth marred with his blood, he doesn’t flinch even as it cleans his cuts or wounds.  

“Why are you doing this?” And your eyes meet his, his amethyst eyes cut through you. 

“Because you’re hurt,” 

“Just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean you have to help,” you sigh, as you urge him to turn so you can clean his back next, the sight of his tattoo on his back unsurprising now as you continue to clean it. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have to either,” he gives a soft chuckle, “what’s your goal here sweetheart?” You urge him to turn again, as you begin to clean the blood from his arms. 

“Do I need to have a goal?” And he turns to face you, leaning even closer, as his black locks fall in his eyes. 

“Everyone has one — didn’t you have one for coming in here?” And your hesitation is all the answers he needs, “curious about what’s going on with those people after you, huh?” 

There wasn’t any use lying now, “Wouldn’t you be?” 

“I would be, but I wouldn’t get caught, now would I?” and you scoff, as his lips curl, “we have been tracking the group that we suspect has the heiress, and we have been interrogating the people that you and Satoru secured,” ‘secured’ — more like nearly murdered by the way Satoru acted. 

“And where were you?” 

He sighed, “Dealing with some loose ends — and some other business that my father had me deal with,” and he adds, “I had to make sure a message got out — so no one would ever attack you like that again,”

And why does your heart squeeze at the thought, “Why are you so willing to tell me?” And your hands begin to clean and wipe his palms. And you set the washcloth down, beginning to bandage some of the larger cuts and wounds, and his fingers intertwined with yours, as you glance up. 

“Because you deserve the truth,” he shrugs, “and even if I lie, you’ll figure it out, so why not tell you to begin with?” And he leans even closer, fingers skimming your cheek, “plus I don’t keep secrets from my future wife,” 

“I’m not marrying you,” but you don’t pull away, as he’s even closer now. 

“Well, you said never before — and I’ve worn you down to a ‘not’ — it’s only a matter of time,” and his words make you want you to pull away, to scoff at his words and leave, but you don’t. 

Why can’t you? 

“And I thought Satoru was the one full of himself—“ and his lips find yours, his kiss was more insistent, his fingers find your jaw, featherlight before it finds purchase on the back of your neck. You could taste the faint taste of blood, lingering on his lips, 

“And you also thought Satoru was a good kisser,” he smirks, as his lips ghost down your jaw, nose brushing against your cheek, as you pause — how did he— “well now you know what a good kisser is actually like,” 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Geto—” 

“Suguru,” he corrects you, he tilts his head, his thumb cupping your chin, and your lips find the other’s, his forehead pressed to yours. Then his phone rings, and the moment’s broken. He pulls away just as fast, as he turns to answer his phone, “Hello?” he listens, a man’s voice on the other end, “I understand, okay.” and the call ends, as he offers a smile to you, “I have to deal with some business, but I’ll be back later. And then it looks like I’ll be your escort while Satoru is away.” 

“What business—” but he’s brushing past you, going to his wardrobe to grab a fresh shirt, buttoning it swiftly, before pulling on another jacket, as he turns to glance at you over his shoulder. 

“You know better than to ask me that,”

“But you said you would be honest,” and he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his lips, as he heads out of the room. 

“I didn’t say when.” 

~~~~

“We have to tell her,” Satoru stood, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall of the compound. Suguru clicks his lighter again, flicking it on and off — he had quit a few months ago when you had told him that you hated the smell. And he didn’t miss it, but he still carried the lighter — old habits die hard, “the pictures we got — they are getting better at tracking her without us noticing. And these other fires we’re being sent out to deal with — it’s leaving us with less time to protect her,”

“Do you have to?” Suguru asked, flicking his lighter closer, the silver outside glinting in the low light of the moon, “isn’t it safer for her to stay in the dark for now?” 

“Staying in the dark doesn’t mean she won’t put herself in danger one way or another without us knowing,” Satoru shrugs, “she said even if I had sent her home that day that those men were after her, she would have came after me,” 

Suguru gives a terse chuckle, “I don’t doubt that she would,” he sighs, gaze towards the inky darkness of the sky, dotted with faint stars that he couldn’t see but knew were there — just as these threats were, “if she found out that her grandfather was threatened too? There’s no way she would wait,” 

“So what do we do?” Satoru scratched the back of his head, “we could send her back home — she might be safer there than here,” 

“Her grandfather told us—“ 

“I know, but what choice do we have, Suguru?” he sighs, and Suguru can’t help but quirk his lips. 

“You know if we do this, we may have to fight her grandfather to stay engaged with her,” And Satoru smiles, shrugging. 

“I know, but we can handle it, can’t we?” Satoru leans back, “we’ll just have to fight him on it. Why? Are you afraid?”  

Suguru gives a short chuckle, “Since when have you known me to be afraid of anything?” And he turns his gaze towards the door, “so when should we tell her?” 

But they don’t notice that you’re pressed against the door, your fists clenched. And they were right about one thing — you wouldn’t wait. 

~~~~

CRACK! 

Fuck, your eyes burned as you tried to open them, the sharp pain in the back of your head radiating all over, as your eyelids refused to open. What happened? You tried to hold your head, only to have your wrists strain against something rough — rope? The fibers dig into your wrists as you try to stand, only to find them bound to something else. 

“Finally awake?” it was a woman’s voice — and your eyes still can’t quite open — fuck, this wasn’t part of your plan, “take your time, they said they wanted you in pristine condition so I can’t have you falling apart on me later on,” she scoffs, her footsteps receding away, and you could hear the quiet murmurs of other voices — men, by the baritone. 

Your eyes burned as you adjusted to opening them, still fighting the urge to flutter them shut under the pain. The dim light swung overhead, a warehouse from the bare floors and even barer walls and ceilings overhead, barely illuminated in the flickering exposed lightbulbs hanging over the middle of the room. 

“Where am I?” You choked out, voice wavering in a way that made you want to grit your teeth and chide yourself for the fear that seeped into your words. 

The quiet click of heels came closer, “Don’t recognize me? Well I suppose you never did see my face in person,” and you knit your brows together as she stepped closer, leaning in far too near for your comfort, “I should thank you for your efforts in trying to find out what happened to me. It made it far easier to kidnap you,” 

Her hazel eyes were even more startling in person. 

“The Akawaza heiress,” you stare at her — her hair had grown a little past her shoulders now, ends slightly curling at them, “I thought—“ 

“I was missing? I was,” her lips curled, running her sharp lacquered nails through her black locks, “but it was my choice,” the screech of chair legs scraping against the floor makes you flinch ever so slightly, as she sits in front of you, her legs crossed, “I’m being rude — how is your grandfather?” 

“Fuck off,” you spit, and she clicks her tongue. 

“And here I thought you had manners, but I suppose the city’s changed you, little princess?” she hums, leaning back, wood of the chair creaking as she did, “or maybe your boyfriends did,” you say nothing, scoffing, as she sighs, “or knowing your grandfather, you probably didn’t have any to begin with,” 

Rage fills your veins, lava bursting from them as the venom leaves your lips, “Don’t talk about my grandfather like that—” 

“Why shouldn’t I? You never cared for the yakuza before, right? Is your grandfather not included in that equation? Or maybe it was because he kept what he did behind closed doors, and never bothered to tell you the truth,” and you’re not fast enough to stop your brow from furrowing, and she latches onto it, “Oh he didn’t tell you, did he?” 

“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” you murmur, and she laughs at your remark, her nails clicking against the forearm of the chair — lacquer on wood that began to grate on your nerves, “can you get to the point of all this shit? Why the fuck am I here?” 

“Because your grandfather is picking and choosing who he favors — and so I decided to take his heart, and I’ll only give her back if he gives me what I want — ” and then you see the way her lips curl and her jaw is cut, and it occurs to you. 

Your grandfather had said he was a heartbreaker. 

“You’re his granddaughter,” and she smirks, her nails falling still. 

“Do you see the family resemblance?” she leans against her hand, elbow against the arm of her chair, “it would be nice to meet you — if I didn’t have to possibly kill you,” 

“So you want to be the heiress? I never wanted to be one in the first place—” 

“Do you think that matters?” she scoffs, “what matters is the choice your grandfather makes —  and he’s chosen you — with no regard for the other children he has had,” her gaze falls downward, “do you know what it is like to watch your mother vye for the approval of someone who never truly cared for her in the first place?” 

Your gaze falls downward, “I don’t know,” you admit, “but is all this worth this? What do you think he will even do for me?” 

“He’ll meet my demands, and each hour he doesn’t, he’ll get another finger of yours,” she pulls a knife out, the blade glinting in the dim light, as she rises to her feet, your body straining back as she draws close to you, running the flat of the blade down your cheek, “should I start with your left hand or right?” she pulls the blade back, and you smile, “what—” 

And you lean your head back and smash your head against her own. The crack of your skulls colliding rung in your ears, along with the knife clattering to the ground, as you felt warm droplets ran down your face, and she stumbles back, clutching at her forehead, scarlet staining her face and fingers, “It’s funny you think that I came to you without a plan — how do you think I found you?” 

“It wasn’t on her own,” and a hand on her shoulder, before she’s pinned to the floor. Satoru’s eyes slide to you, a smile on his lips, as she’s struggling, trying to look for her men, “looking for your goons? Suguru has taken care of them by now, unless he needs my help,” 

“Akari isn’t the only one who likes to hear herself talk,” Suguru runs his fingers through his hair, “Satoru, you haven’t even untied her,” his footsteps echoing as he approaches you, bending down to pick up Akari’s knife. 

“A little busy at the moment, Suguru,” Gojo has Akari pinned with one hand, “unless you’d like her to get away,” and Suguru shrugs, as he slips the knife under your restraints and cuts them off, “are you doing alright, sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine, just my head’s aching,” and Suguru pulls a cloth from his pocket, wiping the blood from your face, your eyes closing and nose wrinkling as he does, “did you call my grandfather?” 

“Yeah, I don’t have a death wish,” Satoru replies as he hauls Akari up and hands her off to his associate to take her. 

You get to shaky feet, “Hold on,” you walk over, grabbing Akari by the front of her blouse, silk wrinkling under your grasp, “fuck with me or my family again, and I won’t be so lenient,” you shove her off, and then you add, “but I’ll talk to my grandfather about some sort of possible arrangement for your mother,” 

And then you wave the yakuza off and they take her away — assuredly to Kyoto to be dealt with by her grandfather. 

“Are you really going to talk to your grandfather about her?” Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s the least he could do since he caused me to be targeted,” you grumble, rubbing your wrists, as Satoru takes his suit coat off and places it around your shoulders, before a smirk pulls at your lips. 

Suguru tilts his head, smiling, “Well, how would he feel if he knew you got kidnapped on purpose?” And you shrug. 

“He doesn’t need to know that.” 

~~~

“I’m surprised you guys agreed to my plan,” you hiss as Satoru takes a damp cloth to clean the dried blood from your face, while Suguru is knelt, bandaging your ankles — their rough and bruised hands somehow still gentle, “I thought you would never let me wander into danger,” 

“Well, we knew we had to do something when we realized you were listening to us, didn’t we, Princess?” Satoru snorted, and you could hear the smile gracing his features — even with your eyes shut — “and this was the best way to ensure you weren’t hurt,” 

“Relatively,” Suguru adds, as he finishes bandaging one ankle, “did she do anything else to you?” 

And Satoru’s hand pauses as they both wait for your answer, and you shake your head, “No,” and Satoru pulls the washcloth away, your eyes fluttering open to meet two skeptical gazes, “really, I’m fine,” your lips curl after the two of them look away, Satoru turning to grab a bag of ice for your forehead, while Suguru busied himself with bandaging your other ankle, “is this threat the reason my grandfather sent me to Tokyo?” 

The timing had lined up — Akari had started the threats not a few months before — after she had reached legal age, the perfect age to contend for the position of successor to her grandfather. And by sending you here, your grandfather thought he was putting you out of immediate danger — but he didn’t know Akari would make her way to Tokyo. 

“More or less,” Satoru sighed, as you flinched when he pressed the ice pack to your head, the condensation from the bag already clinging and dripping down your face, “the geezer wanted to find the source of the threats against you—and by sending you here, to your potential fiancés—“ 

“I would be safe protected twofold by two of the biggest families—“ and you blink, pulling the ice pack away from your face, “the engagements — that’s why they were leaked — it was to protect me,” you mumble, “so that means—“ 

“You can go home if you want, Princess,” Suguru says, looking up at you, expression as inscrutable as it always was, “the engagements were only pretense,” 

“You both knew?” And Satoru sighs, scratching the back of his head, and why does it feel as if his nails are carving out a piece of your heart. 

“The old coot swore us to secrecy, we didn’t have—“ 

“But, everything, the two of you…the engagement—it’s over,” you say slowly, gaze falling downward. You should be happy, relieved, thrilled — you could go home, what you wanted to do from the start. You could get your own apartment or transfer to a different university—and leave this behind, a bad dream washed away by the events of a new day. So why? 

Why did it hurt? 

“Don’t tell me you’ll actually miss us, sweetheart?” Satoru teased, a force more than anything — bittersweet worded coated in a sugary sarcasm, “because I very well may propose here and now,” 

You almost scoff, but Suguru beats you to it. 

“A proposal now? Seems like finishing early isn’t what you just do in bed, Satoru,” Suguru scoffs, as Satoru shoots a glare over his sunglasses, “she’s only eager to get home now isn’t she? "If she isn’t so eager,” he adds, “then she would stop the one she wants from leaving her room, wouldn’t she?” 

And Suguru is slowly getting to his feet, while Satoru also turns to leave — and you don’t think—but you were sure that you truly hadn’t thought a single sane thought since you had arrived in Tokyo—

You grab at the fabric of both their shirts, fingers clutching at it, as your lips curled when they glanced back at you. 

“Who said either of you could leave?”

~~~

“You’re going to have to use your words,” you murmured, fingers ghosting Satoru’s jaw, a delightful shiver parting his lips as you smiled at him, sat spread at the edge of your bed, “what do you want?” You stepped closer, between his legs, daring even closer. 

“Sweetheart, you know what I—“ and a low groan leaves his throat as your fingers slide to the nape of his neck to tug at his snowy locks, “please—“ 

“I know you love this,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his throat, smiling against his skin, “you said you wanted me to hurt you, so it looks like you’re getting your wish,” your eyes slide to the other, sat in a chair, “I know you like to watch, Suguru, so you must be enjoying yourself,” and you’re further unbuttoning Satoru’s shirt all the same — crisp white button up definitely creased and wrinkled as it fell open, tugged out from his slacks. 

Suguru’s fingers flexed against the grain of the wood of the armrests, his muscles taut, his lips a tight line that only matched the fabric of his slacks straining against his erection. The corner of his mouth twitches, and you smirk. 

“I didn’t hear an answer, Suguru,” and you’re placing another kiss on Satoru’s neck, a whine leaving his throat, while your eyes find Suguru’s amethyst gaze darkened to nearly black, his knuckles white against the wood, as you lean down to lick a stripe up Satoru’s neck, who bites his bottom lip. 

“I’d enjoy it even more if I could touch you, or me,” Suguru adds through gritted teeth, “Princess—“ 

And you click your tongue, “You had such patience when you were watching me sleep — so where’s that patience now?” Your fingers graze Satoru’s erection through his slacks, and his head is falling back, as Suguru shifts in his seat, not so subtly adjusting himself. 

You undo Satoru’s belt, unbuckling it with ease, as his cock slaps against his stomach, and you didn’t know it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but Satoru’s was — a deep flush settled over it, pearly beads of precum dripping from the ruby tip. And a distinct heat begins to throb between your thighs. 

“You can touch yourself,” you tell Suguru, his legs twitching to get up, “but you can’t cum until I tell you can,” you run a finger up Satoru’s cock, teasing the weeping tip, a groan leaving the snowy haired man’s lips, “strip, Suguru,” 

And he does, you hear the click of his belt, the sound of fabric rustling, as your fingers tease the slit of Satoru’s cock, gathering precum on your fingers, drawing a grunt from his lips. You can hear the distinct sound of Suguru spitting in his palm, his hand beginning to work at his own cock. 

“Both s’good for me,” you murmur, as you stroke Satoru’s cock in earnest, the quiet moans from both their mouths sending a ribbon of need to your already dripping cunt, “can’t wait to fuck you both, make you my toys,” and you’re pressing a kiss to Satoru’s tip, his pretty, pink lips parting, as his head rolls back again, “but you’d both like that wouldn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t let either of you cum, make you beg me all night,” as your tongue traces his lovely vein up the side of his cock, “what do you think, Toru?” And your mouth finally closes around his dick, sucking hard that draws a hiss from his lips, fingers fisted in the sheets. 

And Suguru isn’t doing much better, the sounds of his hand squelching and the moans leaving his lips growing louder and louder. 

“Please, Princess, I’m close, I can’t—“ and you click your tongue, a pout on your lips, as you pull away your touch, “baby, I—“ 

“Can’t let either of you cum so fast,” your eyes slide to Suguru, his cheeks flushed a lovely pink that reaches even his ears, as his hand slows, his cock twitching in his fingers, “gotta make you earn it. It’s only right after all the shit you put me through right?” 

It’s a cycle, a cycle of you bringing them both to the edge of orgasm, only to tell them to stop. Their sweat slicked brows wrinkled, as you worked them up once again and again and again — you had lost track of how many times. 

“Please, please, sweetheart,” and you knew you could get Satoru to beg, but you didn’t think it would be this easy, and you let his dick brush against your throat, as you let him fuck your throat, hips jerking, “fuuuuck, I need to—” 

And you’re pulling your lips from his cock with a pop, glancing at Suguru whose black locks are beginning to come loose from their neat bun, more of a mess now than he had been fighting yakuza earlier, and all because of you. 

“Suguru? Wanna cum?” you ask, smirking as his gaze raises to meet yours, a desperate look that tells you everything you need to know, “be a good boy and tell me,” 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, as pre drips down his knuckles, “fuck, Princess,” he’s shaking his head, “ I want to cum, please — I need—” 

And your lips curl, “cum for me,” you murmur before you’re wrapping your lips around Satoru again, his tip brushing against your throat, sucking hard, his fingers finding purchase in your hair. And he’s cumming hard, his hot release slides down your throat, nails digging into your scalp, nearly never ending — even as you pull away, his cum paints your face and lips, and drips onto your clothes. His cerulean eyes glazed as he looked down at you between his legs, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his cock. 

And Suguru was no better. He had cum hard all over his hand and the floor, his cock still somehow half hard, his body slumped back in the chair, as his chest heaved. His hair tie had long fallen away, his long black locks brushing against his shoulders. 

You lick your lips clean of Satoru’s cum, wiping the rest away with the back of your hand, “Made such a mess,” you tsk, as you get to your feet, slipping off your shorts and shirt, before leaning down to kiss Satoru, and he’s still sensitive by the way he jolts against your touch, before melting into it, his tongue parted your lips with ease. And fuck, you hoped he couldn’t see how wet you were — nearly dripping down your thighs at this point. 

And you’re pulling away, your thumb dragging down his lips, as his teeth try to catch the finger between them, but you’re too quick. You turn, a smile on your lips, you make your way over to Suguru. 

You’re wiping up the mess on the floor with your shirt before kneeling, “made such a mess, Sugu,” and he’s staring at you through half lidded eyes, his fingers brushing your cheek, “did I say you could touch me?” 

“You never said I couldn’t,” he murmurs, and god, his voice is far gone, raw and nearly guttural, as his fingers found purchase in your hair, “and I think I earned it after your little performance—“ and he hisses when you lean in, tip of your tongue teasing his slit and licking the dripping cum off his half hard cock, “fuck—“ 

“Not yet,” you smiled, as you started to lick his cock clean of his cum, “but maybe if you’re good,” he grunts as you sink is cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length, licking and sucking — and fuck, he was already twitching in your mouth. 

And then he’s easing you off his dick with a tug of your hair, and you’re glancing up at him, a question on the tip of your tongue, but he’s swallowing it with a kiss, as his hands slip down your body to haul you nearly into his lap. Calloused palms find their way to your hips, squeezing lightly, as he pulls away, cupping your chin with his thumb. 

“Suguru—” and you yelp as he picks you up with ease, placing you in Satoru’s lap whose hands wind their way around your waist, his fingers already beginning to tease your hardened buds through your bra, a gasp leaving your lips, as Suguru placed his on your neck with a smirk as he murmurs:

 “Let me show you how good we can be, sweetheart.” 

~~~~

“Tell us what you want, princess,” Satoru murmured in your ear, his warm breath doing nothing to help the needy heat between your thighs, the one that Suguru was knelt between, his large palms spreading you before him, “is she as wet as I think, Suguru?” 

And Suguru catches your gaze, a wicked smile on his lips as he replies, “Wetter, she’s a mess, aren’t you?” you bite your lip to stop a whimper from leaving your lips as his fingers graze the growing wet patch on your panties. And your squirming only makes Satoru grunt, his erection pressed against you, the friction doing little to help either of you. 

“Fuckers,” and Satoru clicks his tongue, a smile on his lips as he turns your head. 

“Think I have a better use for that mouth of yours, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, right as Suguru toys with the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, Satoru swallows the small noise that escapes your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as it does. 

And god, you already can’t even think straight. 

Satoru’s fingers are pushing up your bra, teasing your nipples, as Suguru pressing a kiss to your dripping cunt through your soaked underwear. 

“So pretty,” Suguru murmurs, and Satoru’s lips part from yours, gaze darkening as he drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, and he tugs your drenched panties down, “and your cunt is even prettier, isn’t it princess?” 

And you were — your gorgeous pussy was glossy with your pre, dripping all over his fingers when he parts your messy folds, “Bet she’s even tighter, isn’t she?” Satoru murmurs, as his dick twitches against your ass, “

You whine as his words warm your aching pussy, your eyes flickering downwards, as Suguru’s lips graze your inner thigh, and you already know Satoru’s pouting. 

“You’re taking your goddamn time, Suguru, when do I get my chance?” He grumbles, nose brushing against your neck, as you can’t help but chuckle. 

“You got your turn, and now it’s time for you to watch,” and your giggle turns to a soft gasp when his lips press a kiss to your clit, “and sweetheart, can’t wait to see how you’ll punish me for this later — because I’m not stopping until you beg me to,”

Your lips part with a reply, but he pulls a moan from your lips instead as his tongue drags up the length of your weeping entrance. God, fuck, how did you taste this good? His tongue flicked against your puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, your slick already drenching his chin and lips. 

“So fucking good, baby, s’good f’me,” and your fingers are threading their way into his dark locks, pulling him even closer, his lips closing around your clit to suck, “could live in this pretty cunt,” he grunts, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance. 

Your head falls against Satoru’s shoulders, a groan fell from his lips as his cock dragged against your ass, your slick drenching his thighs and cock alike, “can’t wait to sink my cock into you, fuck,” Satoru murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt rang in his ears, and he could imagine how wet and warm you’d be once he sunk into you, inch by inch. 

And he couldn’t wait — he needed to do something. 

Satoru’s fingers found their way down your body, tweaking your nipple before one large palm dragged slowly down your front, until he found your clit right above Suguru’s face. 

“Toru,” you gasp, as his fingers pinch your clit and Suguru glares, pulling his lips away for a moment, only to sink a finger back in insteas, drawing a moan from your lips, “Sugu—fuck—“ 

And it’s too much, one more touch and you’re cumming, body falling back into Satoru, as Suguru fucks you through your orgasm. Your release runs down their fingers, as Satoru lifts his hand a moment to lick his fingers clean. 

God, you’re too pretty for your own good, Satoru’s eyes drag over you — your kiss ruined lips, skin shiny from your sweat, and the way your eyes were lost in an endless pool of lust. 

“Suguru was right, you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Satoru grin, gently turning your head, and you’re panting, nose wrinkling ever so slightly at his words, and he tuts, “don’t believe me? Well I can fix that,” and his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself, swallowing your moans, as Suguru continued to finger fuck you. 

Suguru’s finger stretches you open, fluttering, knuckle deep, as your precum drips down his fingers. 

“Remember who’s fucking this cunt, sweetheart,” and Suguru is, another finger parting your needy folds, and between Satoru rubbing your clit and Suguru’s fingers curling to find that one spot, drags against your insides, “fuck, how are we going to fit, Satoru? She’s still so tight,” Suguru grunts. 

You pull your lips from Satoru’s, a whine leaving your lips, “More, please, I need—“ and a third finger joins the other two — but it’s not Suguru’s. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking soft,” Satoru groans, pressing soft kisses to your skin, only serving to make you keen at their touch, and your walls flutter around their fingers. 

“Fuck, we’re trying to fuck her open and she just keeps getting tighter,” Suguru grunts, while Satoru’s lips find your earlobe, sucking, just as he adds another finger, a moan escaping your lips again. 

Suguru’s fingers fuck at a steady pace, fucking deeper and deeper, while Satoru’s are faster, pistoning in and out while dragging against your walls — and it’s not long until they are working you up to a second orgasm, it’s too fucking good — and they both find that spot in you that has you seeing stars. 

“I’m g’nna—” and Satoru finds your lips in a sloppy kiss, saliva slipping from the corner of your mouth. And you cum, even harder, your swollen folds clamping down on their fingers as they continue to fuck you unendingly through your orgasm. Your lips pull away, only to moan their names, again and again, until they finally slow down. 

“Good girl,” Suguru murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your thighs, while you come down from your high, walls flutter around nothing at the praise, while Satoru nips at your neck right above your racing pulse. And your eyes find Suguru lazily palming his weeping erection, as you lift your bare foot to rub against it, making him hiss, while you rub against Satoru teasingly. 

“Don’t forget who’s in control,” you kiss Satoru again, before biting his bottom lip, and he’s melting into your touch, “and, you were good,” your foot rubs against Suguru’s cock again, drawing another pretty groan from his lips, “but now it’s time to be obedient.” 

And they are — as you have Satoru sit back against the pillow lined headboard, because if it was anything you knew now — Satoru loved to be controlled, while Suguru liked the illusion of control, even if he didn’t have even a bit of it. So you have Suguru kneeling behind you, as you climb into Satoru’s lap, a small groan leaving his lips as your cunt grazes his hard cock. 

“Such a good boy, aren’t you, Toru?” your fingers run through his hair — and god, his undercut was so fucking hot, as your fingers found his cock, letting the tip tease your soaked folds, as you line yourself up, “tell me what you want,” 

“Fuck, princess, y’know what I want,” and a whine leaves his throat when you let his tip sink into you, only to pull out. 

“Come on, nothing else to say? You always love running that mouth, don’t you? You wanted this, wanted me to ruin you, didn’t you? Well here we are,” you hum, as you press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth, “beg me,” 

And his dick twitches, painfully hard, and the words spill from his lips, “Please, please, sweetheart, use me, use my cock as a toy, want you to fuck me so bad, make me yours—” and you’re sinking onto his cock, his length parting your folds, as moans fall from both of your lips. And he bottoms out, your hips meeting his as you do, and you can feel every vein, every ridge, every inch notched inside your walls. 

“Toru, fuck, s’good, s’big,” it feels too fucking good, and he’s so long — god, he was brushing against places you never even dreamed of reaching. And your pussy clenched at the thought of how deep he would go when he would start thrusting. 

“Sure you have space for me, Princess?” Suguru leans back over to press kisses all over your face, before finding your lips in a heated kiss, “might be too tight of a fit,” his nose brushing against your cheek. 

“I’ll make you fit,” you murmur against his lips, your hands against Satoru’s chest, as you shift to cup his chin, “get behind me, Sugu,” 

Suguru smirks, slipping behind you, pressing himself against your back, dragging his cock teasingly against you, “So needy — you’re worse than Satoru,” and Satoru makes a noise of protest, but your walls flutter, making his back arch, “want me inside you, sweetheart?” And his tip teases at your entrance, brushing against Satoru’s cock, causing all three of you to moan, “tell me how much you want us to fuck you, how much you want both of us inside you,” 

“Fucker, I swear to god,” you turn your head, your glare undercut by the desperation on your face, “just fuck me— 

And Suguru sinks into you, your head falling back against him, as both of their cocks stretch your cunt out. You were so fucking full. And the way your walls clenched around them was nearly enough to make them cum. Their groans come in unison. 

“Fuck, Princess, you don’t have to break our dicks off — we’ll fuck you again,” Suguru grunts, his rough palms sliding to your hips to squeeze them. 

“S’good, sweetheart, so fucking right for us,” and you can’t think straight with the two of them inside of you, and you’re moaning. 

“Please, move—“ and they oblige, beginning to fuck you. You moved against Satoru, riding him as best you can, while Suguru fucked you from behind, his balls slapping against your ass. 

Suguru drives into you at a steady pace, causing you to rock against Satoru, your hips pressed against his, as they both drive deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. 

“S’good, so pretty,” Suguru presses sweet kisses to your neck, while Satoru’s eyes flutter open to meet yours, “I’m close, Satoru—“ 

“Me too,” Satoru manages, and his hips begin to meet your thrusts, “you gonna cum for us princess?” And he finds your gaze, the fucked out expression enough to nearly make him cum right there. 

A whine leaves your lips, as they continue to fuck you, and you know you’re so close. And then they find that spot in you again, and you’re falling apart, lips parted in a moan, both their names on your lips. You clamp down on them, toes curling as you cum, and neither of them can last. Their hips stutter as they give sloppy thrusts, until they both cum, 

They groan your name as they spurt their thick cum inside, notching themselves as deep as they could, continuing to fuck their cum inside you with messy thrusts. 

A whimper escapes your lips between pants, as your arms and legs shake from your position, utterly fucked out. You three stay like that for a moment, both of their sweet nothings they murmur to you falling on deaf ears.

And then finally they are shifting you onto the bed, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck, as your eyes flutter shut. There’s shifting on the bed, as one of them leaves for a moment, and you make a noise, only to be reassured that he’ll be right back. 

Your eyes finally flutter open to find Satoru and Suguru cleaning you up with a wet washcloth, and your gaze finds both of their own. Your lips curl at the sight of them, their gentle gaze enough to make your heart ache. 

“Come back,” you whine, and they both chuckle, as they begin to finish drying you off, before tossing the washcloth into the wastebasket, and crawling back beside you. They help you pull a shirt on, before settling in. 

“So needy,” Satoru murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, even as he buries his face in your chest, his warm breath tickling you as you run your fingers softly through his white locks. And Suguru presses himself to your back, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his arm around your waist, and yours resting on top of his. 

“What will we do with her?” Suguru mutters, and you can hear the smirk in his tone. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, your eyes beginning to feel heavy, as you give into the warmth that enveloped you from their bodies, as it lulled you to sleep. And your lips curled into a smile, a smile that had you wondering right before you slipped into sleep—

When was it that you fell for them? 

~~~~

You couldn’t do this. Not to them. 

That’s what you had decided come morning — waking up between entangled limbs and soft breaths against your skin — how could you? You felt Satoru shift closer to you, as you leaned into his touch, running your fingers through Suguru’s black locks. You were addicted to their touch only after one night, and now you had to spend the rest of your life without it. 

It was the only way. 

This whole thing was ridiculous to begin with — you never cared to be involved in the yakuza to begin with. You wanted a normal life — or at least as normal of a life you could have with who your grandfather was. You had never expected to end up wrapped up in all of this — and in both of them. 

But you didn’t know if you could choose between them — and you knew, you had to. It wasn’t fair to either of them — not when they had asked you to choose last night and they had indulged you in both of them. And now, you didn’t want to let either of them go. 

So you had to let both of them go. 

You shifted slowly to sit up, Your fingers traced Satoru’s cheek lightly, as you toyed with a strand of Suguru’s hair. They both still stayed fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the early morning, deep in the embrace of sleep after the events of last night and the last few weeks. You didn’t want to be someone like your grandfather — you didn’t know what you wanted and that was enough of an answer wasn’t it?

The two shift in their sleep, and your body grows heavy, your back still aching from last night, as you lie back down beside them, running your fingers over both of their arms. 

Even if you had your answer, you didn’t have to face it for another few hours. And their bodies shifted, Satoru burying his face in the nape of your neck, while you rested against Suguru’s chest. This was enough — enough to last you a lifetime, wasn’t it? Your eyes fluttered shut, sinking slowly back to sleep. You had told your grandfather you’d break their hearts — 

—but you didn’t know you would be breaking yours as well. 

~~~

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Satoru narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms, as Suguru stepped aside to show the empty room you had left behind — a bare husk with nothing left behind, not even a note. 

It had been a day. 

When Satoru had woken up beside you, he could have sworn he was still dreaming, even as he grazed your skin gently with the back of his knuckles, he still couldn’t quite believe it. And when he spotted Suguru pressing kisses to your cheek, he knew it was real. 

“How long have you been awake?” Satoru raised an eyebrow, “it’s not fair to have your fun while we were asleep,” 

And Suguru rolled his eyes, as he rubbed the back of his knuckles gently against her cheek, “I just woke up, and all I did was kiss her, you idiot,” 

“Not fair, that means I have to kiss her too,” Satoru murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheek, and one even to your nose. Your nose wrinkles in your sleep, and Satoru’s lips quirk upwards, “she’s so exhausted from last night still,” 

“She is,” Suguru hums, as he tilts his head, “what are we going to do about last night?” 

Satoru pauses a moment to consider, “Well, what is there to discuss? She chose us both, didn’t she?” Satoru leaned close to you, to press a kiss to your head. 

“She did,” Suguru props himself up with his elbow on his side, “I thought you weren’t one to share,” 

And Satoru shrugged — he wasn’t one to share, he wanted what was his to be his alone, but with you — the more people to protect you, the better, “If it’s what makes her happy, I don’t mind,” and he adds, “and I don’t mind if it’s you that I’m sharing with,” 

Suguru raises an eyebrow, a chuckle on his lips, “Is that so? Well, good,” as he runs a finger through your hair, “because I feel the same.” 

But Satoru supposed you didn’t. 

“When did she—“ 

“My father told me she contacted her grandfather this morning, and let them know she was leaving — and her single request was to send us away on business so we wouldn’t be able to stop her,” and Satoru gives a bitter chuckle. 

“So that’s it?” Satoru crosses his arms, “why did she—“ and he cuts himself off, “have you tried to call—“ 

“I’m blocked, I assume you are too,” Suguru shook his head, a silence settling over the two of them that Satoru chose to break. 

“Do we go after her?” And Suguru pauses, his brow wrinkling a moment, before he sighs, shaking his head. 

“If she comes back, it has to be her choice,” Suguru slid his hands into his pockets, “otherwise, we’re back to square one,” and he adds, “and I don’t think I can go back after last night.” 

Suguru steps away, heading back down the hallway, and Satoru follows. 

No, Satoru thinks, sparing one glance at the empty room, before pulling the door shut, neither could he. 

~~~

“Why did you come back?” You set another box down, wiping the sweat from your brow, your grandfather simply watching as you brought your things back into your room. 

“What a warm welcome,” you scoff, as you head back out to pick up another — the other staff had offered to help, but you had waved them off, lifting another box, your back still aching — and now you were starting to regret it. But you knew if you didn’t do something to distract yourself — your phone taunting you on the top of your desk — you’d do something you’d regret. 

And you’d already filled your quota for the next six months at least. 

“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” the geezer sighed, as he watched you bring the last of the boxes in, “I’m glad you’re back and the matters are all settled — but,” he tilts his head, “you seem more miserable than before,” 

“I’m just tired,” you reply, but his furrowed brow says he’s unconvinced, as you grab a box cutter and begin to open up the boxes, beginning to sort through your things, “and still trying to wrap my head around the fact you lied to me,” 

And he sighs, “this isn’t about me right now — it’s about you—“ 

“How convenient,” you mutter under your breath. 

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” And you can’t help but freeze for a moment, until you force yourself to continue unpacking, pulling out some of your clothes from the box, “which one is it?” 

The question stabs between your ribs like a well thrust sword between the ribs, finding the center of the problem — along with your heart. 

“Gramps—” 

“So it’s both of them?” and you whirl on him, your eyes narrowing, and he chuckles, holding up his hand, “I didn’t spy — I just took a guess,” he sighed, as he pulled out your desk chair and took a seat in it, “and it looks like I was right,” 

You swallow, your eyes falling to the floor, “I didn’t cheat, if that’s what—” 

He laughs, “I know you aren’t like me, little one,” he leans back in the chair, hands folded in his lap, “you aren’t one to lie — because I know there’s more you hate than liars,” and his gaze grows a little sadder, “And I’m sorry I had to become one of them,” 

You grit your teeth, “I’m not mad at you — I’m just—” you choose your words carefully — because you’re angry, you were upset — upset that he felt as if he couldn’t trust you, “wondering why you didn’t tell me the truth,” 

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “My past isn’t something I’m proud of, and I wanted to deal with it without involving you,” he sighed, “after everything with our family — I didn’t want to give you another reason to distance yourself from me,” 

“Lying to me isn’t a better option than that,” he rubs the back of his head, “you have to make it right for Akari and her mother — as well as if you have any other kids—I don’t need to know,” you add, when he opens his mouth, “it isn’t fair to them,” and it would be no fairer to not choose between Satoru and Suguru. 

“You’re right,” he raises a brow, “is that the problem? You can’t choose between the two of them, eh?” and your gaze refuses to meet his, “have you talked to them about it?” and your silence serves as an answer, “then I think you should take your own advice and talk to them about it,” 

“What will that do?” you murmur, “they still will want me to choose—” 

“Do you know that for a fact?” he crosses his arms, “I think you owe it to them and to yourself to talk to them, and to your grandfather who can’t stand to see you this miserable at home,” 

“Do you think it will change anything?” and he shrugs. 

“Maybe it will or maybe it won’t,” he tilts his head, as he pulls out his phone to call you a car, “but if it’s a chance for you to be happy, isn’t it worth taking?” 

~~~~

“I want to marry you both,” 

And again, your statement is met with confused stares, as you had all but pulled up to their compound and entered to find them seated together discussing business in a side room — and their stares were still anything but average — but to you now, they meant so much more. 

“Not marry you right now, but maybe eventually,” adrenaline was surely pumping through your system, right? That’s probably why your hands were shaking and your mouth was dry, but even so you knew you needed to say it before they spoke, “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I told myself after we first met I wouldn’t be a coward, but I was when I ran away, and I don’t have any excuse,” you swallowed, “but I know what I want — and I want both of you, as selfish as that feels,” guilt crawled up your throat at the statement of that sentence, as if begging you to swallow the words that spilled from your lips back up, “and I don’t know how either of you feel — but if we were to do this, I would want us to be honest and—” 

And the screech of their chairs takes you aback, and you felt your cheeks burn, was this it? 

But instead of brushing past you, they stand in front of you, one of them tilting your head upwards to meet their gazes. 

“Took you long enough, sweetheart,” Satoru’s lips curled, his hand cupping your cheek, “I know we said we wanted you to hurt us, but not like that,”

“Sent us away just to ghost us,” Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers still under your chin, “I’ll have to plant a tracker on you again,” 

You shake your head, “Wait, what? Are you both okay—” 

“We did say we’d kill the other for your hand, but,” Suguru presses a kiss to your forehead, “But now we realize the more eyes watching you, the better, and,” he shrugs, “we don’t mind sharing if it’s just with the other,” 

“And I know you’ll prefer me sooner or later,” Satoru adds, earning a glare from Suguru, as you only chuckle, “Suguru is always so grumpy—ow!” Suguru smacks on the back of the head, as the black haired yakuza wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his front. 

“And you are always too busy running your mouth,” Suguru replies, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “sure you can handle both of us in your life?” and you pull Satoru close too, letting his lips brush yours, before turning and pressing a kiss to Suguru. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourselves that?” you say, as the two of them wrap an arm around you, “I am supposed to ruin your lives after all.” 

✧ a/n: so this has been a longtime coming. i was supposed to be working on prof geto (5) + my nanami celebration fic but this took over my life and wouldn't let go until i finished. so i hope you guys enjoy!! and this is my reminder why i don't write multi partner scenes like this often because its....difficult. thank you to @gaylatteart for reading and putting up with me <333

✧ taglist: @midmourn, @whore-for-hawks, @ekaterinatepes, @satoryaa, @mandysfanfics, @sodoney, @sukunasfavoritehole, @kazbrkker, @satorugirlie, @itsbokutosjuicyass, @santos4, @levanadragoneel, @talkativetranscendant, @abiiebibie, @simply-a-s1mp, @jolynelovesrain, @deegausserr, @xxemmarldxx, @biancaness, @satoniko, @ackermanbby, @rintoriss, @kentocalls, @marionettte, @bear-likes-mushrooms, @forest-hashira, @catsgomurp, @k1t0u, @rat-loves, @forest-fruits-jam, @wishingforanother, @roseified, @spider-fan72, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @gojolvrr34, @chosobun, @chuuyasboots, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy,

[amoressb]

𐙚 bows

pairings : bf!ot7 x reader

synopsis : where he would let you put/wrap bows

lee heeseung - loosely around his neck

this is truly for your eyes only. you wouldn’t let him go out with it around his neck of course. he wears a lot of necklaces so why not give him a special necklace being the loose bow around his neck. now it could lead to other things..or just you two laying down watching a movie, you on his chest messing with the bow a bit giggling at your special privileges.

park jongseong - top of his guitars and wrist

for the guitars, jay went to play one of his guitars only to find them all decorated with bows on the tuning pegs and of course they’re like this because you snuck in a little earlier to put them all on cuz it felt like they were missing something. he didn’t mind of course, not even when you came in to watch him play and put the same pink bow around his wrist so it flows while he plays.

sim jaeyun - around his wrist or finger(s)

if there was something you loved just a bit more about jake besides him and his lips it would be the veins that run from his forearm down to his hands and his fingers. his skin is so soft as well..he’s too pretty. you’d alternate between putting a bow on his wrist or finger maybe even both if you can’t decide. it’s truly mind blowing how a guy can have such soft pretty skin.

park sunghoon - biceps

it’s one of two reasons why the bows are there. either he’s gone to workout and you put the bow there in case any girl tries to make a move he can easily use it to show he’s obviously not interested. now the other reason, which is mostly the reason, is simply because you can’t look away as it’s not too common he shows his arms so when he does..and he flexes them for you..in a tank top or pulls his short sleeve up a bit..now…

kim seonwoo - his hair as pigtails and clips

it always amazes you how incredibly soft his hair is. you love laying down with him or him just laying his head on your lap and you run your fingers through his hair so its only natural you had the urge to put bow clips in his hair. what stunned him were the pigtails you had done with little silk ribbon around them tied into bows. he was so relaxed he didn’t even realize you giggling while making them.

yang jungwon - his torso or waist

it’s unfair to you that he has a more snatched waist than you. his torso being the perfect v shape..ughh too perfect. you HAD to put a pink bow around his waist. the times you put it around his torso it always ends up slipping down to his waist and its the most attractive thing ever since his waist is smaller than his top half, the bow sits so loosely around his waist..you just faint right there. truly a blessing for your eyes only.

nishimura riki - around him completely

he really doesn’t know how he got into this situation. all he remembers is you running to him all happy and now your giggling while tying a silk pink bow over his arms around his torso, everything, completely caging him in while he’s sitting on your bed. you took many pictures of course trying to decide which one would be your new wallpaper, but truly he doesn’t mind at all. do whatever you want. he’s utterly whipped for you.

(note : a bit biased towards niki i love him sm sorry😓; but i would wrap them all completely tbh and also thank you so much for the love on my first post i love you all !!)

[alisonwritesimagines]

Second Chance ~Logan Howlett Imagine~

Summary: Logan meets you. A variant of his dead wife.

Author’s Note: I won't lie, Hugh Jackman was hotter in the early 2000s.

Part Two

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE, mentions of character deaths, mentions of sexual innuendos

Do not repost this anywhere!

A new start for Logan was just what he needed. And thanks to the TVA, Laura was able to join him in the universe Wade was originally from. So this was a new start for the two of them. And to celebrate their success in saving the universe, Wade decided to have a pizza dinner party with all his friends so Logan and Laura can get to know them.

"We are missing one more person," Wade noticed as he looked around.

"Y/n will be coming soon. She had to deal with something first," Yukio tells him.

"Thank you, Yukio," Wade smiled at her.

"Y/n?" Logan asked Wade.

"Oh you are going to love her. Everyone does," Wade tells him. "You too Mary Puppins."

Ten minutes later, you finally showed up.

"As an apology for coming late, I made my famous brownies!" You announced as you handed the plate with the chocolate goods to Negasonic Teenage Warhead.

Logan looked over to see that the stranger who walked in felt like a walking corpse to him. His smile drained from his face as he stared at you who was greeting the people you knew.

"Y/n! I want you to meet our new friends! Logan and Laura," Wade said. It felt like a cheesy rom com slow motion turn to Logan. But he was still enchanted by your beauty.

"It's nice to meet you both," you smiled at them.

"It's nice to meet you too," Laura said as she shook your hand.

"Please excuse me," Logan said as he walked out. Your smile fell a little as you watched the man walk out. You looked back at Wade who had a confused look as well.

"I will be right back. But here. Meet Mary Puppins," Wade said as he handed the dog over to you.

Wade rushed out of the apartment to find Logan outside.

"Hey! What was that? You just ran out on one of the best people I have ever met. She is tied with Peter and Yukio," Wade tells him.

"I didn't realize you had a version of her here," Logan tells him.

"What are you talking about?" Wade asked him.

"Y/n. She was my wife in my universe," Logan explains to him.

"No shit. You were married?" Wade asked him in shock.

"She was also killed because of me."

"This one is different."

"And how's that?" Logan asked him.

"She's a really big badass here," Wade tells him.

"She was in my universe too. But I still let her and everyone down."

"This one could be different."

"I don't know."

"Why don't you come back upstairs and have pizza and get to know her?" Wade offered.

"I think I'm gonna stay out here for a bit," Logan tells him.

"Alright."

Wade headed back upstairs, leaving Logan all alone. Not fifteen minutes later, you came outside with a plate of pizza and a brownie piece and a beer.

"You are missing the pizza and my brownies which Wade was mostly eating all of them," you tell Logan as you handed the food and drink to him.

"Thanks."

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" You asked him.

"No. It's just... you look like someone and it's bringing back some memories for me," Logan tells you.

"Oh. Do you want to talk about it? If it makes you feel better, Wade has told me weirder things and more depressing things," you tell him. Logan let out a small chuckle.

"Maybe not now. I'm sorry for running out while you were introducing yourself."

"That's okay. Let's reintroduce ourselves. I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you," you smiled at him.

"It's nice to meet you too. I'm Logan."

"Hi Logan. So, did you have to suffer with Wade alone for a couple of days too?" You asked him. Logan laughed a little.

"Yeah. I did."

"I can tell. You have a tired look on you," you laughed a little. Logan smiled softly, hearing your laugh. It was no different from his universe's you.

"You know, the party is upstairs and we are missing it," you tell him.

"That's true. Let's go," Logan said as he followed you back upstairs.

During the party, you sat next to Vanessa as you both were catching up. Logan kept looking at you whenever he could as he talked to Laura.

"You like her," Laura tells Logan loud enough for only him to hear.

"Come on kid," Logan groaned a little.

"She's pretty. And Wade talked to her about letting me stay with her and the other X-Men," Laura tells him.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Apparently she's a good teacher both education wise and powers wise," Laura tells him.

"She always was," Logan said, looking back at you. Your eyes met Logan's, making you smile at him.

"Oh he's cute. You should totally get with him when you can," Vanessa encouraged.

"You think I should?" You asked her.

"Yes! Plus he's handsome," Vanessa nudged.

"And his abs are amazing," Wade mentioned to you. You looked at Vanessa who also had the same look of interested with you.

At the end, you grabbed your bag and jacket before saying goodbye to Blind Al and Wade.

"You ready to check out the school?" You asked Laura.

"Yeah."

"Can I actually ask you something before you leave, Y/n?" Logan asked you.

"Sure. What's up?" You asked as you walked over to him.

"Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?" Logan asked you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled happily.

"Yeah. I'd like that. Here's my number," you tell him as you wrote it down really quickly for him.

"Call me."

"I will."

"Alright. I'll see you soon hopefully," you tell him.

"See you soon."

"Bye, Logan," Laura waved at him before following you out.

"So, are you two just going to adopt Laura and start a family?" Wade asked him.

"Leave it."

"Just letting you know, she likes it rough in bed."

"You and her had sex?"

"Nope. But I did overhear her and Vanessa talk about what they liked in the bed one time," Wade tells him. "And trust me. She may look sweet and innocent, but she is a bit of a masochist."

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ybklix]

playing with his hair

giirrrl idk, a feral thought maybe; bf!felix x fem!reader w his long hair since i’m too lazy to make it a whole detail fic for now lol so, (i deadass tried to make it a drabble but it pass the 1k words😮‍💨)

genre - warnings: smut, fluff!! dry humping, handjob, grinding, unprotected piv, mention of cockwarming, idol bf felix btw

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is what i have to deal with everyday, actually, oopsies, he’s next to me rn! also writing in present it’s so new, I like to read it when yall write like that, but I’ll stick with past tense😁 edit: girl i had this in the drafts for days, but he was a little too happy in his recent promoting video, he’s sleeping outside, someone pick him up /jk srly pls

Felix likes to try new hairstyles ever since he let grow his hair, he feels very confident with it and likes the way you randomly stroke it every time you’re together.

Your idea of fun is one of those very rare free afternoons for him since he’s all the time busy at work; it’s when you’re just chilling together at your place because you feel too lazy to go out but very comfortable with each other’s company.

Your days are simple, and your hours with him are very limited but he always makes sure to enjoy being with him; so you try to do everything at once, watch a movie, talk, lay on his chest while he’s playing games on his cell phone… and suddenly, just playing around, with you sitting on his lap in front of him, giggling while playing with his hair.

“Fuck, your hair is so fried” you tease him with a smile, looking at your fingers entangling with his straight hair.

He pouts, “Stop, then don’t touch it…” he responds also joking, just watching you with heart and sparkling eyes.

Felix rests his hands on your tights and caresses them softly. You down your gaze to meet his, he’s suddenly looking at you so sweetly that makes your cheeks get a little warm.

“Can I play with it?” you asked joyfully.

“With what?”

“Your hair” you replied in an obvious tone, “I can do pigtails, braids, middle part, side part” you continue to say, laughing while playing with his hair.

Felix chuckles softly, completely in love, closing his eyes sometimes, then looking up at your arms.

“Wait here” you speak again, standing up from his lap and going to get a comb, hair ties, bobby pins and some random hair clips to take pictures of him just for fun.

“You can also do my make-up if you want” he comments, raising his thick voice so you can hear him.

You sit back down on his lap.

“Oh no, you wear makeup almost every day, let your face rest today” you answer, kissing him tenderly on the bridge of his nose, hiding a little bit the fact that you love seeing your boyfriend’s bare face, straight black eyelashes, big dark eyes, full lips, cheeks and nose with freckles all over.

You laugh at doing whatever you want with his hair, taking silly pictures every time you find him adorable, just giggling saying your favorite inside jokes, then ending with a bow on his hair.

“You can really use me, huh” Felix says, giving you a funny but adorable look with his eyes wide open.

Felix starts caressing your back, with more consistent and intense caresses and he suddenly realizes how you haven’t kissed each other on the lips the whole time, so he moves closer to you and you without hesitation receive his kiss, following a tender and slow rhythm at first, pressing your lips together in a delicate lip rubbing, but you’re a bit desperate when it comes to each other, so your boyfriend catches his breath between kisses and looks himself at the work of being more glued and pouncing on you, with his touches all over your body, from your thighs to your back, slipping his hands under your blouse to feel your bare skin.

Your make out starts to heat up precipitously that you can feel the growing erection in his shorts, so, with your hands wrapped around his neck, you begin to move over his cock, pressing it to your core and stimulating you both. At this point, your pussy is throbbing and you feel slightly heated. You’re always impressed by how incredibly fast you want and desire him. You both moan softly at the friction. As you pull apart you smile slightly mischievously at him and for some reason you start kissing his neck, which Felix loves so, causing him to give you a huge tender smile showing his teeth, clutching his grip on your hips tighter.

You pull away once more to meet the wide grin on his face, which gently turns into a slightly strained expression as you continue to move your body against his erection, Felix gasps, his lips forming a soft expression of satisfaction this time with his submissive facing enjoying the naughty act of crushing his cock with your center, with your clothes on.

“Fuck, baby, it feels so good” Felix sighs, biting his slightly swollen, full lips, lowering his gaze to your pussy being trapped in him, moving his erection back and forth, guiding your hips for better movement.

You smile satisfactorily at him in response, each time feeling the heat of your body and pussy brush against your panties, wetting them all over, just playing more with your arousal. You see him, he looks so fucking cute and yet so hot with the last few hairstyles you gave him, two little high ponytails with bows leaving the rest of his hair loose, he looked silly cute, but serious manly moans coming out of him contrasts somehow so perfectly.

Felix sighs again sonorously, his legs shaking a little, he doesn’t think he can take it long enough without cumming if you keep moving so dedicatedly on him so he speaks again:

“Mmm, c’mon baby, take off your clothes, or do you want me to take you to bed.”

A pleasant shock goes through your body as you hear him a little more needy, you’re not thinking straight and you don’t want to pull away from him so you just reply a simple, “It’s okay like this, Lix.”

With your heart beating fast you grab his shorts, indicating you want to pull them down, Felix helps you right away, releasing his pink, needy, throbbing cock, you look down at his member and then at the same time you join gazes, Felix looks at you so needy and innocent, his big eyes begging you to touch him, you can’t help but melt every time he does that and in a needy sigh, with your cheeks a little red, you stand up, embarrassed, pulling down your comfy cloth shorts along with your panties, climbing back onto his lap, catching your boyfriend licking his lips at the sight of your cute bare mons venus.

Felix smiles, so excited at the thought of feeling you on him again, now with the sensation of your warm wet center in him, he gets more excited at the thought that you were finally going to settle on him ready to fuck, however, you start pumping his entire erect length, making him gasp loudly as he throws his head back, marking his bulging Adam's apple in his throat. Felix returns to his posture, looking straight into you with desire, biting his lip as you with a smile, touch all over his cock, stroking his tip gently with your fingers, feeling his stiffness and the slight sticky precum sliding down your hand as you jerk him off.

You’re so wet, and Felix is getting over the edge, so you finally accommodate your body, squeezing your pussy tighter on his cock, grinding on it a little before you put his cock inside you, encouraging in him more arousal if that was possible, teasing him and you at the sensation of his dick rub between your labia, until you feel his throbbing member so foreplayed, and until you see your boyfriend’s sweet expression as he can’t resist anymore and, finally you insert his rigid manhood completely in you. The temperature of both your bodies rises, it feels so fucking good to be filled by him, every move you make comes out of pure bliss, panting, sliding on his cock in a rhythm that makes him shudder and moan; Felix feels every part of his body beat intensely, enjoying every thrust into him.

“Oh, fuck, l-ove, ke-keep going please, I’m gonna cum, fuuck” he whimpers, desperate in a high-pitched tone, closing his eyes.

Felix thinks about the idea of cumming all of him inside you, of filling you up, brings him to a better ecstasy and in a thick sigh of relief and satisfaction, he manages to cum, relaxing a bit all the tension built in his body, making his thighs restless in soft tingling and trembling. You rest your hands on his shoulders and hide your face on the side of his neck, moaning close to his ear and with your face brushing against his soft hair, gently overwhelming you with his sweet scent, you bite your lip at the sensation of his hot semen shooting inside you and you also sense you’re so close to your climax that, despite being slightly tired, you intensify and increase each movement, sliding a little more slippery as you are filled with his cum. You hug him without thinking, your walls squeeze his sensitive cock still stuck in your core, you’re climaxing so intensely that you open your mouth almost in an inaudible squeal, your vision blurs for a few seconds and you let yourself release completely onto your boyfriend.

You feel the joining of agitated chests and breaths, Felix hug you warmly wrapping your back, once again your body melts at the slightest touch of his, but you can’t help but feel him so close to you, acting tenderly. Felix doesn’t even have to say it, but you know he loves you, you feel it too, so you relax your body on top of him, stroke his hair and he gives you a soft kiss on your shoulder as he caresses your back and keeps you in such a vulnerable position with both sexes together, with you on top of him until you decide to move.

——————-

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @bubblebisk

[hearts4hughes]

tied up - rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: master manipulator!rafe ; mentions of violence ; sexual innuendos towards the end

a/n: the second i saw rafe tied up and sweaty in this episode, i KNEW i had to write about it. this is probably the first of many writings relating to this scene.

the ship rocks gently beneath you, creaking in time with the water lapping against its sides. you step carefully, feeling the weight of the metal plate in your hands, warm against your fingertips. the scent of food mixes with the salt air, thick and lingering, though you’re sure he won’t touch it. rafe sits a few feet away, hands bound to a pipe in front of him, his head drooped forward. he doesn’t look up as you approach, but you can feel his awareness.

you pause, just out of reach, and the light catches his profile—a bruise blooming darkly his eye, his lip split and red, dried blood marking his mouth like some careless stain from when jj knocked him out. he lifts his head slowly, almost deliberately, and his gaze finds yours. his eyes are sharp, narrowed, an intense blue like broken glass in sunlight, calculating and unreadable.

the plate feels heavier in your hands, like it’s suddenly full of something fragile. you set it down, the scrape of metal on wood cutting through the silence like a match. he doesn’t move, just watches you with that unblinking look, like he’s trying to measure how much of you he could break if his hands were free. the thought chills you, but you don’t step back.

“eat,” you say, trying to sound calm, detached, but your voice feels too loud in the confined space. his mouth twitches, a hint of something that might be a smile, but it’s too cold, too hollow. you can see the strain in his shoulders, the pure anger in the way he holds himself, but underneath it—something else. a flicker of vulnerability he’s trying hard to hide.

“so, they send you down to try to convince me to eat? think it would soften me up or something?” his voice is rough as it echos through the confined room. “i already told sarah that i’m not eating until they untie me.” he says with pure defiance. his eyes bore into you as if he’s trying to study you.

you turn your head, your gaze diverting to the dusty floor. “actually, no one sent me down here. they could give a shit if you starved or not. it would be doing everyone a favor.” you avoid his eyes, afraid that your confidence would melt if you met them.

for a second, you wonder if he’s about to say something, something meant only for you, and the realization tightens in your chest like a warning.

“then, why are you here?” he asks harshly. you look up to meet his haunted eyes, a chill runs down your spine and butterflies settle in your stomach. “what happened to never wanting to see me again, huh? what happened to ‘i love you forever’ ?”

his words command a flood of memories to rush through your head. your breathing becomes heavier as you remember it all; the lingering gazes, the sweet nothings, and finally, the way the absence in his eyes as he shot sherif peterkin.

“you know what happened, rafe,” you warn, your voice cracking slightly. he smirked, almost as if he could sense your anxiety. “you know why i left you.”

rafe’s smirk deepens, twisted and bitter, and he leans forward as much as the bindings allow him. “left me?” his voice is low, mocking, but there’s something raw in it too. “come on. we both know you didn’t leave me—you never really left me.”

the words cut through you, sharper than you expect, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. he watches you, waiting for a reaction, relishing it, and maybe even needing it. his gaze is relentless, pining you there like you were the one in restraints.

you force yourself to meet his eyes, even as every instinct screams to look away, to leave the room, and to escape. “i did, though. i left you because you weren’t the man i started dating. you were this,” you gesture to his bruises, his dried blood, and his hostility shimmering in his expression; the man who seems like a stranger and yet is all too familiar.

“you’ve always been mine.” he mutters more to himself than to you. “and i’m- i’m trying to change, y/n. i’ve been trying to change.” he says sternly, almost as if it was obvious, but it wasn’t. “y-you people don’t understand that i can change. i can change just as easily as you and sarah did when you started hanging around those goddamn pogues!” he raises his voice, jolting forward, and causing you to jump back.

when he notices you flinch, his gaze softens. he take a deep breath and sits back. you swallow harshly as he shifts from 0 to 100 in mere seconds.

“i’m just trying to change for the better; for you.” his voice is soft, not like what it was before. you can hear the sadness and the desperation dripping from his mouth.

it’s a trap. it’s all a trap. you’ve known rafe long enough to sense when he’s being manipulative, and he’s at his peak right now. you don’t respond, shaking your head, and going to grab the plate of food. as you grab the mental dish, his hands clasp around your wrist. the plate drops to the floor with a clatter.

“don’t- don’t go.” he whispers softly. his eyes search your face for even an ounce of reciprocated feelings. you bite the inside of your cheek as you ponder the possibilities. “stay here with me… please.” he isn’t speaking anymore, no, he’s begging.

your guard completely falls, leaving yourself vulnerable, and raw to his manipulations. when he senses the sudden shift, it’s as if he latches onto you, stringing his webs tighter around you.

you relax your shoulders with a sigh, not saying yes, but not leaving. he smiles and his eyes fall to your plump lips. his grip tightens around your wrist, fingers wrapping around your pulse. his breath is shallow and ragged, as if he’s afraid you’ll drift away.

your pulse quickens, a silent thrum that feels too loud, too obvious. his thumb moves softly, tracing small circles against your skin, a touch that’s barely there but enough to send a rush of warmth up your arm. you could pull away, break the moment before it goes any further, but you stay still.

rafe’s eyes drop to your lips, his jaw clenching as he takes a steadying breath. he’s drawing you closer, erasing the distance you swore to keep. “you don’t have to stay,” he murmurs, but his fingers tighten, betraying his words. “but… I don’t want you to leave.”

he inches closer, his face barely a breath away as his scent fills your senses. you can feel him hesitating, struggling against something, something that holds him back as much as it pulls him forward.

thousands of thoughts, warnings, and memories flash through your mind like blinding headlights, but they quiet under the intensity of his stare. then, he leans forward, closing the final sliver of space between you. his lips press softly against yours, and as if surrendering, you begin to kiss him back. the kiss begins gentle and sweet, but quickly turns into something desperate and fiery.

his tongue teases your mouth, slipping against your bottom lip. he’s frantic, raw, almost as if he’s afraid of losing you again, like he’s trying to make up for everything that happened. your lips slot against his like a puzzle piece.

you pull away breathlessly and stare at him. he lifts his arms that are bound by rope just enough for you to slip under them, now straddling his lap. you settle on his lap, something hard presses against your ass.

he smirks, “feel what you do to me, baby? i’ve missed you so much.”

the way he stares at you then and there tells you that you’ll be his forever. that there is no escape from him, even if you allow yourself to believe so. you’ll eternally be stuck in his web as he dances around you, only adding more silk to restrain you.

“calm down and untie me.” he says with a twisted grin. “let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

TW: nsfw, dubcon, kidnapping, virginity loss, curse!reader, succubus!reader, severely clueless virgin reader, born hot yesterday reader

fem reader

“Feels like you’re luring me into some trap.” He keeps his back hunched and his hands shoved down his baggy pant pockets, sighing heartily—Satoru having a surprise never bodes well.  

“Oh, come on—” named white-haired boy exclaims, in much enthusiastic contrast to his cynical counterpart—slinging a lanky arm around his slumped shoulders. “Have a little faith, birthday boy. You’re gonna like this.”

Suguru sighs again, “Somehow, I doubt it…”

The two make their way down Jujutsu High’s hall, walking past the dorms until stopping before Satoru’s door. Suguru reconsiders then—whatever it is, it can’t be so bad if he’s keeping it in his own room. And yet, the grin on his friend’s face is never something to take lightly.

He unlocks the door but holds off on opening it, instead standing before it with a grip on the handle—looking over his dark glasses at his waiting friend with a certain giddy twinkle in his eyes. “You ready?”

Suguru doesn’t know the answer to that. Part of him doesn’t care what’s behind the door, while the other part is confident he won’t like it, and yet, there’s still some soft spot inside him that tells him to go along with it anyway. Sighing a third time, he raises his hands from his pockets. “Sure…”

Satoru snickers, “Alrighty then,” and opens the door, creaking on its hinges. “Tadah—lookie what I found.”

Suguru stands before the doorway for a moment. As it had opened, a faint surge of cursed energy had waved over him—nothing to fear, yet odd nonetheless. He spots the source right away. Something on the bed. A figure. Human-like, yet not.

It’s obvious what it is, and still, he finds himself asking, “What is that?”

Satoru lumps against his back with his chin on his shoulder, “It’s your present, of course,” then pushes him inside.

He locks the door again behind him and redoes the veil, keeping their activities hidden from passersby.

“What exactly are you thinking, Satoru?” The other boy asks, apprehensive with his black eyes fixed on you—the curse on the bed, tied up with seals, squirming while looking up at the two of them. You’re no threat, but still, the question remains—why are you here?

“It’s up to you, Suguru. It’s your birthday,” the asked answers nonchalantly once returning. He gestures in the air with his hand. “You can wrap it up into one of your marbles and eat it like a birthday cake or…”

Suguru’s eyes snap to his at the suggestive tone, teetering on coquettish—no, not teetering, definitely coquettish—but no matter how shameless he is, he can’t possibly be proposing they do something like that with a curse.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Suguru,” the blue-eyed one defends with a pout. “I mean, look at it—have yah ever seen a curse so...” he continues but falls short. He chuckles lightly and deems any explanation unnecessary. “Well, you have eyes, so don’t deny it.” 

Both black and blue orbs fall back on you, one still with an uncertain gaze and the other with a heavy, unashamed leer.

Suguru’s throat grows tight, and he swallows thickly to replenish, then asks, “And after?” He looks back at his friend. “You plan on just killing it?”

Satoru gives it a thought, thumbing his chin with a pout before revealing, “Maybe… Or keepin’ it…” He laughs again, taking a step closer to the bed before crouching down—his blue eyes wide and visibly terrifying to you, if the way you shuffle away is any tell. He doesn’t let it deter him, reaching out his hand to touch you anyway. “I wouldn’t mind havin’ an exotic pet. Depends on how fun this is—”

He's stopped. Hand waiting mid-air as a heavier one grabs his shoulder.

“I thought it was my present,” Suguru states from behind him.

Satoru looks up at him for a moment—first kind of annoyed, but then quickly amused. He smiles, “Well, excuse me—it sounded like you didn’t want it.” He stands up with an animated sigh. “Besides, thought you might share with your best mate since I went through all the trouble.” 

He’s got this sheepish beggar’s look painted upon his face—totally unconvincing by Suguru’s judgment. Still, he caves—not so much out of sympathy, but rather because there's no way he’s doing this all by himself—in such crimes, it’s better to be accomplices in order to share the shame. And, suppose he can admit it’s more fun with the white-haired freak around…

“Fine,” he mutters for the second time that night, hoping he won’t regret it.

“Sweet,” Satoru cheers in turn. “Never had a curse before—this’ll be interesting.”

He returns to you and pulls the seal off your lips. You flinch and hold your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Your bound wrists and ankles are also freed, and still, you don’t move from where you’re huddled up in the corner of where the bed meets the walls—as far away from them as possible.

After getting a closer look at you, your obedience doesn’t surprise Suguru. Flecks of cursed blood splatter litter your skin and clothing—there must have been others before Satoru made a show of himself—no wonder you’re so scared.

“Can you talk?” said show-boating sorcerer asked.

You carefully peel your eyes open again. Lips warbling unsurely. It sort of looks as though you want to speak but don’t exactly know how. It’s to be expected with a weak curse like you. 

They hadn’t expected as much, so they figured it was all the same until, “Yea-yes.”

You stutter, but still, you speak.

“That’s surprising—you’re not all that strong,” Satoru expresses. “But I guess it’s a good thing.” 

Suguru can only guess what motives he has for saying that, and still, he’s quite sure he knows why—he’s always been partial to the louder ones, after all.

“My name’s Satoru, and my friend here is Suguru,” he introduces with gestures. “Don’t forget it, okay?” His eyes give warning as much as his words, no matter his playful tone. “You’re gonna do what we tell you, or I’m gonna paint the wall with you just like I did all your other friends, understand?”

Your lip trembles, and you clutch yourself closer, looking to hide yourself but recognizing you’re trapped prey for two much stronger predators. You nod your head.

“If you can talk, then say it,” the white-haired one demands—tone brisker than before, making your stomach fold and heart flinch.

“Yes, sa-Satoru.” It’s all foreign on your tongue, yet you manage—like how animals learn to swim when thrown upon the open waters.

It makes him smile, and you feel some relief in listening to him coo, “Perfect.”

The vision of your fellow curses getting squished like trampled grapes haunts you. You can tell this new sorcerer is just as strong. You don’t know what they’re after, but you know it’s best if they’re happy with you—so you aim to keep it that way.

The one asking you questions looks away toward the other one.

“Wanna do the honors, birthday boy, or should I?”

He seems to be contemplating something before calmly deciding. “I’ll eat it first. Then it’ll be bound to me and won’t struggle.”

“Smart—though that is some of the fun,” your original capturer responds with lackluster, then shrugs. “But it’s your birthday, you decide.”

The raven-haired one raises a hand, energy building within his palm. “I have. So don’t pout—”

Eat it? Do they mean you? You feel the pull of something sucking you from your safe spot. “Wah-wait! Don’t—don’t eat me, please!” you squeal with lifted hands, first flat with sprung fingers in surrender, then clasped together as you take a deep bow with your forehead buried in the plume. “I-I’ll listen! I’ll be a good-good curse, I promise! Please!”

Both sorcerers’ are stumped by the display. It’s an odd declaration for a curse. Of course, you could be a ploy, yet they sense absolutely zero hostility.

Satoru looks at his friend with puppy-dog eyes, whispering to him in low and needy little whimpers, all laced with awe, “Oh, come on, Suguru. Can’t it wait? You can always eat it after, right? Look at it—it won’t fight.”

Suguru grinds his teeth, but even he can’t deny he’s curious now. He huffs and lowers his arm, “Fine. But if you fail to obey even a single command, I won’t hesitate to eat you on the spot.”

You raise your head, pretty grateful tears in your eyes—an even odder sight from a curse. “Oh-okay… Su-Suguru… thank you.”

It’s utterly embarrassing and even somewhat horrifying, but the way his name trembles off of your tongue all sweetly like that is enough to make him blush. He steals himself in spite of it. You’re still a curse—nothing worth going easy on.

“Strip,” he commands.

You tilt your head at the word, eyes round and brows cinched. “Strip?”

Satoru comes to the rescue—overwhelmed with your cuteness as he’d been since he first saw you, unable to harm even a hair on your head. “It’s just a wittle curse, Suguru—you can’t expect it to understand everything you say. We gotta use simple terms.” 

If he could, he’d like to undress you himself, but he agrees that there’s some pleasure to be found in watching you do so for them. 

He gives you a reassuring look and a somewhat kind smile. “He means take off your clothes.”

“Oh... okay.” You light up upon understanding, hoping not to anger them. You don’t ask why. You just listen, balling your dress at the hips and lifting it up and off over your head—leaving you bare.

“Is that what I think it is?” Suguru utters, eyes zoned in on your lower belly and the pink markings there—swirled symbols mocking the shape of a winged heart right atop your womb.

“It sure looks like it,” Satoru whistles in turn. “How lucky are we, huh?”

Their conversation goes over your head—just as most of what they say. Part of you is still wary that they’re going to eat you—undressing would make that easier for them, wouldn’t it? Maybe you’d just fallen right into their trap…

You blink when spotting them getting undressed, too. Maybe it’s some type of ritual? You wouldn’t know…

Once they’re both naked, your throat tightens, and your gut stirs with an ache of sorts—you wouldn’t know why as to that either, but you rub your thighs together in hopes it would soothe it. But no, it blooms instead into a hunger the more you look, and the black of your eyes bleed out into a pool deep enough to get lost in. You don’t even notice you're drooling. All you know is that they’re getting closer, and your skin simmers for their touch.

And still, you’re confused once you’re on your back with the raven-haired one looming above you. Breathing heavily, you gasp with the spring of a moan once his fingers trace the pulsing glow of your pink marking. You’ve never seen it do that before—it’s a little scary.

“Ah—what—what are you doing?” Half of you wishes to nudge his hand away—it’s so sensitive—and yet, the other half wants nothing but to succumb to it, plead for more. It’s confusing.

“Oh? How can you be a succubus and not know?” he asks calmly, teasingly now with a sympathy he lacked before.

You’re so hot—you’re burning—something’s wet—between your thighs—it pulses on time with your mark. His hand moves down toward it—the feeling intensifies, and your breath flares, quickens, and stutters in your chest. It feels good, but it also feels…

“That feels weird—” you protest with no amount of conviction, rather just in a statement.

“But you like it,” he argues, also more in a statement. Nursing you through the doubt with sweetly slow strokes.

It’s good that he took the reins before Satoru—he wouldn’t be this considerate.

“Don’t worry, pretty curse,” he soothes, sliding his digits through the wet, then slipping two within—inside you—into some spot that makes your toes curl. “I’ll help you find your purpose.”

“Ah!” you squeal—wide swivel-eyed and panting, staring at his ministrations—where he pumps you on his knuckles and how you weep with fluid. What’s going on?

“How does that feel?” he purrs and presses a thumb down on the drumming pearl crowning the mouth—as though it were a button to push and have you unlock.

Suguru watches as your eyes morph—pupils going from round black to glowing pink hearts.

It feels… it feels… “Good… so good—please, give me more.”

You don’t have to beg them twice.

You know heaven for curses doesn’t exist, but you think you’ve just stumbled upon a loophole. 

“I can’t believe she’s taking us both—” Suguru stutters as he jerks his hips up into the downy softness of your ass, burying himself deep alongside the other.

“Well—she’s made for it, ain’t she?” Satoru whimpers in turn.

They both hold your thighs up, having you folded in half, lifted between them—your back resting against the broad warmth of Suguru’s chest, with Satoru in front of you—both stuffing your gushing hole as one.

“More—more...” you blubber—heart eyes half-mast and mouth apart in dewy breaths.

Satoru knows you’re a curse, but he can’t help himself, feeling your hands cling to his back, holding on tightly—he knows you’re a curse, but he leans in and kisses you anyway.

And it’s sweet—sweet like candy. Your spit and your tongue—his new favorite syrup. He can’t stop—feeding you the entire length of his tongue in need to explore your mouth, drink you up—feeling desperately parched without it.

The sight makes Suguru’s gut fizzle. It’s so wrong, yet it feels so right. He thinks he’ll cum soon, but he doesn’t want to—he wants to keep going.

“I’m gonna—” Satoru whines as he breaks for air.

“Me too—” Suguru groans in turn.

They jitter, spines aligned and pulsing with each other—filling you up with a mixture of both.

It’s a feeling like none other for all three of you—euphoric and transcendent—you think you might die from the pleasure, feeling the crushing weight of paradise dawn on you in rapids.

You all collapse on the bed next to each other, you in the middle. They don’t take themselves out, and you prefer it that way—you fear the loneliness if they would. Right now, it’s warm. You’d like to stay there forever.

“I’m sorry…” Suguru apologizes suddenly—much to your confusion until you see him raise his palm like before. “But this is for the best.”

Weakened, you’re warped into the pretty confines of a pink marble within just a second. He holds you for a moment, feeling somewhat guilty, but doesn’t waste long before swallowing you up—down his throat until settling neatly in the prison of his stomach.

Satoru doesn’t look surprised. After all, Suguru’s right—it is for the best. He can’t exactly keep you in his room forever without discovery. This way, you’re kept safe from other sorcerers as well as just a call away from them whenever they wish to see you.

“What’ she taste like?” he asks nonchalantly. 

The birthday boy licks his lips and then smiles. “Like cake.”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ GETO SUGURU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[atyourmerci]

I hope your daddy doesn’t own a gun

Southern dbf!abby

Cw: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, subfem!reader, age gap (r! Is 20, abby is in her 30s), masturbation, phone sex if you squint and turn your head, lil sprinkle of degradation, fingering, voyerism, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: I hate this<3

They all saw you as a child, still just daddy’s little girl in your pigtails and bloomers. Even at twenty, after ditching the pigtails and swapping the bloomers with mini skirts that let your ass peak out, didn’t deter their perception of innocence.

Your father was a wealthy man, charismatic and giving that drew the people around him in. Most of his friends watched you grow from childhood, through the ugly duckling phase, all the boyfriends, and growth of your now womanly figure. Not that they noticed. Not that you cared- other than her, Abigail, your father’s best friend from college. Abigail went on to work at your father’s company after college and frequented your life from birth.

You couldn’t recall when it shifted, when she went from your father’s best friend to a toy dangled in front of your face, so close yet unattainable. Clean cut, dressed in button ups, khakis, the cowboy boots that peaked through the bottom of them. Her hair neatly tied in a braid.

The only time you’d seen it down was when your dad held a backyard rager you snuck out to watch. Most of the party had dissipated late into the night, but you had spotted Abby and one of the receptionists in your pool. You watched as the pretty receptionist lazily dragged the strands out with her fingers as Abigail worked her mouth around her chest.

Thats when the heat in your chest began for her, watching her control. Seeing how she could have anything she wanted. You wanted her to desire you, need you so badly shed take you there, even with the risk of wondering eyes.

-

This night ended as they all did. At the end of the night you’d get sent to your room so they could smoke cigars and speak of vulgarities that you now were more than aware of. For fucks sake you were in college now, getting tossed around by pitiful girls that still couldn’t make you come. Abby would, you knew it.

You’d touch yourself at night to the thought of her for the past couple of years, she’d know how to take care of your needy cunt. You’d think of yourself in the pool that night, how your fingers would dance through her hair. The scent of musky pine still overwhelming your senses even though her skin was bleached of pool water. How her fingers would feel deep inside you, her hand covering your mouth to quiet you.

Your father would kill her.

“Alright hun, why don’t you head to bed,” your father says after a fit of laughter. Everyone continues the comfort, your eyes dart to Abby, who seems to be the only one privy to your father’s prompt.

“Dad don’t you think i’m too old for that now,” you try not to get defensive but it comes out bitchy. He gives you that stern glare, the ‘don’t make me ask you again’ look and you glance back at Abigail who gives you a pitied pout, “be a good girl, listen to your father.”

You huff out, making a scene and storming off. Slamming your bedroom door behind you, infuriated. Pissed at your father for treating you like a child still, pissed at Abigail for backing him up. Pissed that she looked so good tonight, the way she put her hand on your lower back to pass you, whispering a ‘xcuse’ me darlin’. Maybe it was her goal to work you up just to leave you helpless and begging.

Your window has a shot of the backyard, all your father’s friends laughing over cigars and bourbon. Pissed how she called you a good girl, right in front of your father, everyone, knowing the effect it would have on you.

She wanted to tease you, work you up in front of everyone? Then they should all watch what she did, a careless act on both ends.

Throwing yourself on your warm sheets, pulling up your sundress to reveal your bare cunt. Driving your head back into the sheets as your fingers work at the pulsing flesh, so tense from the slow incline Abby had you on all day. Your fingers slid so easily through your folds, pearly white slick coating your harsh fingers.

Your breath panting and eager, so ready to revel in your own pleasure after being ripped from it. You’re already close, feeling your stomach tighten in anticipation as you feel your phone buzz at your side. ‘Abigail Anderson’ illuminates your face, without giving yourself a chance to catch your breath you answer.

“Don’t you dare think of coming,” Abby says sternly. Your face flushes, fuck. You peer your weary eyes at the window next to your body, Abby stands a couple feet away from the men, staring dead at you through the glass.

“Wha-“ you pant out, staring dumbly at the woman that never gave you this extent of her control. Your head drops back down onto your pillow, too embarrassed to admit your shameful actions.

“I didnt tell you to stop, did I sweetheart?” Abby says with smugness in her tone.

“N- no ma’am,” giving into her so easily, running your hand down your body to meet back at your sopping cunt that buzzes at her words. “Good girl… you like that, don’t you?” She says doubling down- so fucking sure of her power over you, your mind, your cunt.

“Yes Abby- yes! please Im so close,” you bite down on your lip for relief, your hole clenches over nothing, fingers eagerly tracing circles around your swollen bud. Any moment you’d break, heels digging into your frilly sheets as your chest soaks with sweat. You hear the line go flat on your phone.

You were too fucked to stop, you were going to let yourself have this. Gripping into the sheets you prepare yourself, legs shaking as your door swings open to Abigail. Your legs wide open for her eyes to feast on, she takes a moment to gawk at the sight before locking the door behind her.

She walks over to the head of your bed, unbuttoning her shirt as she watches you drive lazy motions over your clit. She discards her shirt to the side, revealing her bare chest. Climbing so slowly up to you she places her hand on your sloppy cunt, cupping it as her other hand covers your mouth, “Don’t make a sound and I’ll let you come.”

Wild eyed you nod your head, letting her run her thick fingers down the slit of your cunt to collect your release. The smell of pine thick in the air, the sound of her fingers dragging in and out of you the only peep to be heard.

“you think about this all the time don’t you darlin? Turned into a nasty little girl, didn’t ya.” Abby begins to pick up her pace, fingers sliding in so easily. Your eyes roll back, mind going numb.

“Tight little cunt you got, swallowing my fucking fingers,” you try not to scream out, but her unrelenting pace at your hole was getting to be too much. The feeling of spilling over hitting you once again. Your screams are muffled by her meaty hands, but she can feel your pulse around her.

“You gonna come baby?” Abby coos, looking at you pitied and cruel. You shake what motion you still had left in your head.

“Be quiet so your daddy doesn’t hear what a whore his little girl is,” she laughs at how pathetic you are, all from just her fingers.

like that you’re set off, squirming under her heat as she fucks your pussy through it, watching you opened mouth panting as your head pushes into your plush pillows. Biting into the flesh of her palm cant block off the guttural scream you let out. She pushes down harder at your mouth but only pushes her fingers deeper. Every last drop she was going to get out of you.

Thats when you hear the ring of a jiggle on your locked doorknob.