#he left crumbs all over the place

[girl-lostconnection]

Concept of a concept time:

Reader who goes through the whole relationship with Ghoap or the whole 141 believing that they would always come second place, because of course Simon would burn the world down if Soap was taken out of it. Of course, Price would do everything and anything to save Simon. Of course, Simon would turn into monster if it meant keeping his family safe, keeping his TaskForce safe.

Of course, Kyle would go mad with grief if he was to lose Johnny. Of course, Kyle would become a shell of himself if he lost Price.

Of course they would all shatter without each other alive and well. It was obvious. It was a fact.

Reader who sees it and places themselves on the outside of it, because these men were already something before they came along. These men were already tight knit and close to each other.

These men were already family when Reader got dropped into their laps. It’s only natural they don’t really slot fully. There’s just no more space.

Reader who takes every bit and crumb of an affection they are given. Reader who gives away everything. All of them. Every kiss and confession, every hug, every bit of love and care they have. They give it all, because yeah, maybe they will never be a part of these 4. But they can be near and maybe…maybe that’s enough?

Reader, who dies. Not instead of Soap, not instead of anyone. They just don’t come back from the job one day, their foot locker was supposed to be shipped out to the family. But there is no family.

So 141 takes it. Who, if not them, right?

Reader, who dies and haunts the narrative from that point on. Reader who leaves a hole the size of a person and no one can fill it. It’s impossible.

Reader, whose warmth was seeping through them all for so long, the absence of it feels like a whiplash. The absence of it feels in their bones and it’s cold-cold-cold now. Their hearth dies and there is nothing to do about it but keep going.

Soldiers die every day, this one shouldn’t have been special. But they were.

Kyle who takes their personal things before someone else can come and toss them out, sleeping with their T-shirts and hoodies. Part of him dies with Reader. Part of him is getting buried with them. He’s sitting at their funeral until Price leads him away.

Simon who takes their photos and books, hiding them, keeping them safe. He needs to have it, because memory is traitorous and one day he might not be able to put a face to the name and he’s terrified of it to the point of feeling sick.

Soap who takes mementoes — keychains and magnets from all of the deployments, he takes every knick knack they found in the foot locker and Reader’s room, he stores them next to his. There are new keychains on every set of his keys. He’s fumbling with them every time he feels like there’s knot in his throat and he can’t speak.

Price gets the notebooks. Just a few of those were in a footlocker, filled with scribbles and meal plans and random quotes and games Reader played with Kyle during boring briefings. But it feels like them. It smells like them. Reader never wrote a consistent diary, too little time and too much going on, but they notated the places and times and that Soap coughs like a sick Victorian child and that Kyle has the most perfect beauty marks on his thighs and that Price sneezes like dad and that Simon sleeps with lamp on.

It is everything there was of them. Everything there’s left of their love and John isn’t sure he’d be able to part with it. It isn’t fair that it happened like that. It isn’t fair that he feels like destroying his whole office when he reads the “im not sure i fit in. on the bright side I reckon if something was to happen to me, no one would mourn too long. they have each other, I should be happy it is like that. I should be grateful” because it’s not fair-not fair-not fair-not fair.

John doesn’t show these diaries to anyone. John guards them like his most prized possession, reading it over and over because you, silly perfect thing, why haven’t you said anything. Why haven’t they noticed anything.

John doesn’t show it to anyone because he’s not sure if they won’t crumble under the notion. He’s not sure they won’t shatter when the rest find out that Reader died thinking they weren’t part of the family.

John sobs so hard, bile rises to his throat, world swimming in his eyes and it hurts, and he’s so fucking angry and it’s so unfair. Because it’s not true, because of course you were part of them, of course you matter, of course they mourn.

Because you die never finding out how much you were loved. Because there’s nothing he can do.

And it’s not fair.

[kismetlotts]

cw: angst, mentions of sex, best friend Simon Riley, mentions of knives, mentions of hurting yourself but no implications of actually doing so or having done in the past, mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol, clueless Simon Riley, crying in each others arms, helping out your best friend, reader is self less

part 2 of Best Friend Simon Riley Angst (I recommend reading part one first to understand certain elements better)

You woke up in the morning, daylight shining through your curtains and you already knew it wasn’t sunshine- bound to be nothing but grey clouds out there, flooding the sky like a polluted ocean. Your nose and head ached in the silent flood of last nights memories, your crying, your actions and worst of all, your best friend.

Oh Simon, what a dickhead you were. Why did you have to come here?

Your body flushed against the cold sheets behind you, a weightless bed, giving you the impression he’d done a runner. Typical him honestly- you wouldn’t be surprised if that was what initiated their breakup; the same breakup that was at fault for all of this.

He was always so forward, front and confrontational within the field. The notorious ‘Ghost’ that installs fear in every enemy he has to face. He’s a fighter at work but ironically, in life, all he knew was how to retreat. Pull away before he can cause anymore damage, pull out before the mess gets bigger.

You flung the covers off you, their pretty, pink, innocent pattern already making vomit surface in your throat. He’d flopped down on that bedding countless times in the past: memories which made it hurt more came to mind. The knives that were already jammed in your gut, heart and what’s seemed as your brain, twisting a little deeper before freezing up in place.

You remembered the times when his body would accidentally fling you around the mattress, grunting and smirking while he settle down and got comfy. You remembered the way his fingers tapped on the cotton as he leaned over to see what you were looking at on your phone. Nosy but never prying in too much.

Imagining how you looked when you watched his hand sweep across the duvet on movie night, pushing every crumb onto your bedroom floor with a laugh and an apology leaving his lips. His hands, shooting into the air as he surrendered in playful shame. Not really paying attention as your voice scolded him for eating in your bed.

Your fingers stripped the bedding from its covers. Tossing them into a pile on the floor beside your laundry basket, the sheets so stained with both of your sweat and dirt from the situation, your nose scrunched up at the sight. You left it there ready to put in the wash later.

Though, a part of you can’t help but wonder if they will ever feel as clean as they did before.

If they’ll ever give you the warm, comforting sensation you got every night before nodding off to sleep. Would you ever hear their soft cries to slip back in bed when you wake up early for work? The covers flopped back in agony, silently pleading for you to come back and have five more minutes?

No. Now they just feel like you never got out of that bed, the duvet still wrapped around your body keeping you hostage and forcing you to go about your day. The weight of everything on your shoulders enough for you to trip and fall on the material.

You’d burn them if they weren’t so big.

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous, why the fuck did you let it happen anyway? The sex with him wasn’t anything like you’d wished or dreamed of nor would it have never been.

He didn’t love you but something inside you obviously can’t comprehend that. Every chance you get to show or pretend that the two of you were more than what you were- you’d leap for it: eyes sparkling with the same hope a lost kid has.

He used you last night and you let him like the pathetic, lovesick loser you always were. It wasn’t sex, it was nothing more than a mere distraction and waste of time. A waste of his time, more hassle just for him.

Your fingers wrapped around your smooth doorknob as you pushed open your bedroom door, trailing into the kitchen before an aroma of pancake batter and fresh baking gripped you by the throat. Your big eyes meeting Simons, his familiar, large figure pressed against your kitchen counter as he sucked on his bottom lip.

His face was pale and his brown pupils never left the plate of fucked up pancakes, left on a placemat on the table.

You laughed. You laughed because you couldn’t trust anything else to come out- You couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t break down crying, that you wouldn’t scream or hurt yourself in front of him, that you wouldn’t wince at this- idiotic gesture.

Was this an apology? Was this all you meant to him? A plate of sweet treats you’d have to force yourself to eat, to swallow down and help you forget everything bad that happened. Maybe, or perhaps it was pure coincidence it summed up his perspective of the night; perfectly.

“Did you make me pancakes?” The tremble and nerves in your voice was apparent and he nodded slowly, gesturing to the massive bag of groceries on the countertop.

“With berries and sugar on top. I’ve got some other things here though, chocolate- all kinds, some syrup and honey and other fruit in that bag if you want any. I just added berries because I know they’re your favourite.” He rambled on.

“When did I tell you that?” Your head turned to the side, twitching in uncertainty as you sat down in front of the plate. Eyes squinting as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You said when we…-oh.”

That’s not her, Simon.

His hand lifted to his eyes, rubbing them to avoid looking anywhere. The rise and fall of his chest grew faster and you just knew how is heart felt, flooding with guilt and embarrassment at his own actions.

Staying mad at him was hard when you knew him so well. Mistakes get made and feeling get trampled on but he wasn’t a bad person. That’s why you fell for him all that time ago.

The knife in your hand cut through the pancakes like butter, your posture up straight and distant from the plate while your appetite warned you not to bite. Your eyes flickered over to Simon again, seeing his hands still firmly placed over his eyes, broad shoulders retracted inwards as his body jolted in silent cries. The metal rattled against the table as you put the knife down and jumped out of your chair.

“Simon don’t do this-“ You spoke comfortingly, lunging over towards his body. Your soft skin met with the roughness of his arm but before you could say another word he shoved your body away from him.

A voice you’d never heard before coming out loud and brute, as you took a step back from his harsh rejection.

“Can you just fuck off trying to make me feel better constantly- I know i’ve fucked up and I know i’ve upset you. Stop acting like everything is alright when it isn’t, you do this every time- i’m not a kid!” His fist clawed at his shirt. Pulling it away from his chest as if he wanted to rip his heart out to stop the torture he was suffering.

Spit flew from his mouth and his eyes looked red, sunken with despair. Your voice died in your mouth, tongue soaking up all your saliva and you tried to swallow.

He was lost. He ruined the thing he needed the most- fucked about and caused chaos with his lifeline. You were his saviour and always had been. He didn’t need for you to fix his relationship or his problems, he needed you to fix him. He didn’t sleep with you to use you intentionally, it was a drunken mistake and a shitty timing.

He inhaled through his mouth, his throat croaking as he gripped the counter for stabilisation. Face was locked down to the floor, glued and staring at his shoes on your kitchen floor.

The drops of his tears on the black leather of his boots and the drops on your tiles reminding him of how pathetic he was being. He was a man, he worked in the military. He had slept with people before, cheated, and ruined relationships but nothing hurt like this hurt. Nothing knocked him down so hard he was afraid to get back up, he was afraid to lose you. Simon was scared.

“I made a mistake and I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I can even do to make it up to you- fucking pancakes- it is stupid I should know better and I should know what to do but I-” The whiteness in his knuckles disappeared as he lessened his grip on the counter. Hands falling to his side as he broke down on the spot.

The hard armour he lived in unraveling like flimsy pieces of ribbon. His wet eyelashes hitting his cheeks as he wiped his nose and face on the back of his wrist.

“I can’t think. I can’t be me without you here and I don’t know what to do, please, i’m so sorry just please come back to me. I know i’ve lost a part of you and I will fight until the end of day to get it back, but for now just let me have the rest back. I need my best friend back.” His hands met your lower back as you flung your arms around his neck, your own eyes dripping with tears of outrage and hurt but above all you needed Simon too.

You sobbed silently into his shoulder as he held you close to him finally getting his breathing back to normal. You bit your lips shut and breathed slowly so he couldn’t feel your body shake for air. You didn’t want him to realise how much you were struggling in his arms- how lost and abused you felt. You didn’t want your emotions to worsen his because he had to come first.

He’d lost the love of his life and he needs someone to be strong for him, help him get on his own feet. Be beside him with wide arms and a welcoming face. It wasn’t him being selfish, it was something you had to understand Simon to understand.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you hesitantly sat down and talked. It was a long talk hidden by cheap smiles and forced laughter but of course, he didn’t catch on. You let him speak, you gave him advice- hugged it out and as weeks passed by, the two of you were back to normality again.

He’d found a new girl quicker than you thought he wouldn’t, pretty girl and ironically she your figure and eye colour. The more you watched them interact the more they seemed to happy together, kissing, hugging, buying each other gifts. It felt just like how it was before.

Back to Simon and his lovesick best friend that will always be there for him even if he’s never there for her. Back to Simon and his awful dating life as he hops from one awful breakup to the next because they all are missing something.

All he wants, is girl with your hair colour. A girl with your eye colour and your smile. All he longs for is a girl that he can hold hands with but can also roll his eyes at when she teases him for being too cheesy. He wants a girl who can laugh and joke with him but still support him and by there for him in more ways than one. Not just a girlfriend but almost as if a best friend at the same time. That’s all he wants and asks the world for but for some reason she just isn’t out there for him.

And until he realises why he looks for you in every girl he meets. Until he steps back and opens his eyelids to everything right in front of him. She won’t ever be.

[chris-prank]

A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 1 : Something warm

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

CW: NSFW, pet play?, praise kink, masturbation, humping, porn with plot, yandere behavior, mention of stalking and use of y/n

Next chapter

Word count: Over 3K

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

The winter cold had arrived in town, but you had underestimated it. You could clearly see the vapor escape your mouth as you breathed on your palms to warm them up. It was lunch break, so you had decided to treat yourself with a hot drink at the local coffee shop. They had a large variety of food and drinks, which was always nice when in a rush.  It was really close to the place you worked at, so the perfect opportunity to get some fresh air in your system. 

I wonder if Jacce is going to be there today, you ask yourself while rubbing your hands together and placing them in your pockets. He was one of the baristas. He always took the time to make little doodles on your cup to go or make foam art if you stayed for longer. You never really had a deep conversation, but you often thought it would be nice to get to know him. 

You arrived in front of the open sign and swiftly pushed the door to take shelter from the cold. Jacce seemed to cheer up as he noticed you. He made his way to the counter, a small smile gracing his lips while he adjusted his apron. Despite his tall figure, Jacce’s hunched over pose almost made him eye to eye with you. Emphasis on almost, he was still way taller.

“Welcome back! Wh-what can I get you today?” 

You told him you wanted a chicken soup with your hot drink, since you had the time to stay a bit longer today. While ordering, you noticed little button pins on his neck strap. One was definitely the pansexual flag and the other was the band Ghost’s logo. 

“I like your button pins!” You commented while handing him the right amount of money, your fingers brushing lightly against his palm. 

“O-oh! Thanks! you're the first client to notice them… well to say something about it at least.”

He started fidgeting with them and gave you a sheepish grin. You swore his face had gotten more flushed than before, but not thinking much of it you made your way to a nearby table. Soon, Jacce arrived with your food ready in hand. You took the tray and admired his work of art. It was a cute Shiba Inu made of foam milk coming out of the mug. He really made it impressively detailed. You took a glance at the soup and the croissant next to it… A croissant? Your neurons finally made the connections that you didn’t order this, after a good second of zoning out. You looked up at Jacce, but he simply glanced away. Oh, it was on purpose. 

“Aw! You didn’t have to!” 

“It’s nothing really…You are m— our favorite regular after all, I need to treat you from time to time.” He pouted, as if it was an insult not to give you special attention. His comment turned your cheeks slightly red. You didn’t know at all that the people working here liked you this much. 

Jacce stayed in place despite already giving you your order. It seemed like the barista wanted to chat longer, but another customer was waiting, so he left reluctantly. 

“The art is really cute by the way!” You shouted from your seat. You saw Jacce lit up with a giddy smile, but in a matter of seconds he returned to his neutral face when addressing the man at the counter. 

You took out your phone to take a picture of the little foam dog before it disappeared into the warm liquid. After that you decided to attack the croissant first, not wanting to give your tongue a second degree burn with the chicken soup or the drink. You took a huge bite, crumbs falling on your laps despite your best efforts. They really had amazing pastry here. The price reflected that, and your wallet definitely knew it well. You were so wrapped in your own little world that your brain blocked out everything going on around you, until an angry voice disturbed your peace. 

“DON’T try to give excuses!”

“S-sir, p-please…”

A man, probably in his fifties, was menacingly pointing his finger at Jacce. He anxiously ran a hand through his mud brown hair, looking everywhere except in the clients eyes. Your heartbeat picked up in pace as you watched the scene unfold, you didn’t want to imagine how the poor barista felt. 

“I don’t have any music playing, I swear! It’s just to take out surrendering noises when I’m —”

“Your generation are such snowflakes! I want to talk to your manager!” 

Jacce let out an anxious laugh before answering.

“I a-am actually the… manager, but I’m als–”

“FOR GOD SAKE! Proof that this place is run by idiots!”

Ok, this guy is seriously going overboard. You looked around to watch the reaction of the other customers. They were understandably all silent, almost frozen in their seats. Seeing no one ready to advocate for the poor guy caused your protective side to kick in. 

“How is it even a problem if he can hear you perfectly?”

The man turned to you with a surprise expression, not expecting anyone to intervene, but soon enough he gave you the same angry stare Jacce had received.  

“It’s a matter of respect.”

“Well you're not being really respectful right now.”

“Are you fricking— You know what? You just lost a valuable customer.” He spat out at the barista and stormed off, but not before knocking over a stand of straws. 

Jacce was visibly affected by this whole encounter. He almost looked like he was going to have an anxiety attack, because of the way he was gripping his shirt. You quickly went up to the counter and kneeled down to clean up the mess. 

“I am so sorry for you, people can be so rude! That’s why I prefer a job without any social interaction, a pure paradise I tell you!” you joked, trying to soothe him. “I hope it didn’t ruin your day…”

Your attention wandered away as you picked off the ground the reusable straws. You could hear Jacce say something, but only for it to be mixed with the background noises. 

“Mm what did you say?”

“Oh em— I just said that it won’t affect the rest of my day, don't worry.”

Jacce’s hand reached up and it looked like he was scratching his neck. He seemed to have calmed down which made you a bit relieved. After all that, you went back to your table and finished your food and drink. You told Jacce goodbye before going back to your own job. 

The rest of your day went normally, but it was still pretty intense. You were at least glad that you didn’t have to deal with angry clients unlike a certain someone. On that note your mind wandered back to Jacce. Next time you should try to get to know him better. He seemed to be eager for it as well. 

***

I hope they’ll come by today,  Jacce whined internally as he tried to search out the window for a glimpse of his beloved. It has been two days since the last time he officially saw them, two days too much in his opinion. He did follow them after work, but it wasn’t the same. The barista wanted to talk to them, even if it was just for a second. 

Jacce mindlessly twisted the sleeve of his forest green turtleneck between his fingers. He had a huge collection of thrifted knitted turtleneck sweater, but this one was definitely his favorite since it was the softest on his skin. 

After one more hour of torture, waiting for a certain someone, they finally pushed open the door of the coffee shop. It took merely a second for Jacce to notice them. He wanted to run to the counter to make sure his coworkers didn't steal this moment from him, but it would have looked suspicious. Luckily, everyone else was too busy to take care of it.

“Welcome back! Wh-what can I get for you today?” The question was more a force of habits than an honest one. Jacce knew perfectly their favorite drink and how they wanted it to be prepared. Just like he expected, y/n ordered the same thing as usual, but with chicken soup. That’s a good sign, he thought; they always order something to eat when they are planning on staying. 

Jacce told them the price and took the chance to admire their complexion while they were busy searching in their wallet. He really loved everything about his darling, from head to toe. As they paid, he felt the tip of y/n finger brush against his palm, shooting heat to his face and somewhere else. 

“I like your button pins!”

The sudden compliment caught him off guard. He was already overjoyed by the touch of his favorite client, but this was definitely making his face burn ten times more. He awkwardly thanked them, but thankfully they didn’t seem to notice his intense reaction, instead leaving to take a seat soon after their interaction. 

Jacce calmed himself down as he brainstormed what he could possibly make in milk foam this time. He ended up with the idea of a cute dog. Everyone likes dogs, right? He sure hoped they did. Furthermore, he took the opportunity to add a croissant next to the bowl of soup. It was a slow day anyway and it's not like it was making the business lose a lot of money. The barista carefully took the tray and brought it to their table. Normally they would just call people at the counter to get their order, but he seriously wasn’t going to bother y/n for such a silly thing. 

Jacce was so proud at the stunned look on his the customers face when they saw the little Shiba Inu made out of foam milk and the free croissant. He couldn’t help but sweat as they looked up at him. 

“Aw Jacce! You didn’t have to!” 

“It’s nothing really…You are m— our favorite regular after all, I need to treat you from time to time.” He pouted. 

He soon noticed that they were blushing. Fuck! I made them blush! That’s what he wanted more than anything, to make them love him just as much as he loved them. This definitely was a good sign.  If only he could stay longer to admire them from up close, but no. Another customer had to enter and ruin the only good moment of his day. 

“The art is really cute by the way!” He heard them shout from their table as he left. Jacce lit up with a giddy smile, but in a matter of seconds he returned to his neutral face when addressing the man at the counter. 

“What can I get you sir?” He asks with a monotone voice while gently tugging at his only dark strand of hair. 

“I’ll get a black cof– are you listening to music, young man?” 

Jacce looked up at the client that had noticed his earbuds.

“No sir, I can assure you I’m not.”

“DON’T lie to me!”

“S-sir, p-please…”

The man, probably in his fifties, menacingly pointed his finger at him. Jacce anxiously ran a hand through his mud brown hair, looking everywhere except in the clients eyes. This was going worse than he expected. He could feel himself sweating profusely. 

“I don’t have a-any music playing, I swear! It’s just to take out surrendering noises when I’m —”

“Your generation are such snowflakes! I want to talk to your manager!” 

Jacce let out an anxious laugh before answering.

“I a-am actually the… manager, but I’m als–”

“FOR GOD SAKE! Proof that this place is run by idiots!”

A worker named Pierre opened his mouth to intervene, but he was not quick enough it seemed.  

“How is it even a problem sir if he can hear you perfectly?”

Jacce had to hold himself back to not cry from happiness. There they were, his precious love standing up for him. 

The man turned to them with a surprise expression, not expecting anyone to speak up, but soon enough gave y/n an angry stare. Jacce couldn’t let that slide. This man was definitely banned from the shop.   

“It’s a matter of respect.”

“Well you're not being really respectful right now.”

“Are you fricking— You know what? You just lost a valuable customer.” He spat out in Jacce’s way and stormed off, but not before knocking over a stand of straws. 

Jacce could never get used to situations like this, it always affected him. Still, he tried his best to regulate his breathing as he gripped his shirt. Y/n quickly went up to the counter and kneeled down out of view. The barista leaned against the counter to look at what they were doing. His darling was cleaning up the mess the waste of air had just caused. 

“I am so sorry for you, people can be so rude! That’s why I prefer a job without any social interaction, a pure paradise I tell you!” They joked, “I hope it didn’t ruin your day…”

It was so sweet of them, not only did they advocate on his behalf but they were thoughtful enough to lift his spirit too. Jacce really couldn’t wait to be theirs and repay them for all their kindness. 

“No need to worry about that, you made it perfect already.”

“Mm what did you say?”

“Oh em— I just said that it won’t affect the rest of my day, don’t worry.”

The man could feel his erection pressing painfully against the restraint of his pants. Instinctively, he reached up to the collar hidden under his clothes to brush it with his fingers. It had a tag with Jacce engraved on the front. On the backside it said “property of” followed by y/n and their phone number. He clenched his fist, he really couldn’t wait to get home.

When they left, the rest of Jacce’s day consisted of him daydreaming about the chivalry of his sweetheart. Once he arrived at his house, it was a matter of seconds before his pants were taken off. He didn’t even wait to be in his room, instead opting for the cold tile floor of his bathroom. He took out of one of the cabinets a small bottle of lotion, opened it with his left hand and generously poured the content on the other. He had these bottles scattered all around his home, including the bag that he brought with him everywhere he went. Biting his bottom lips, he ran his hand down his happy trail, where it connected to the base of his shaft. A doggy-like whine escaped his lips as he began to wrap his finger around it and slowly moved up.

“S-shit Mmfff! Please…A-aahh use me master.”

Wet noises soon started echoing around the room and the hallway, accompanying the incessant buzzing of electricity. It was a true miracle that Jacce never got a noise complaint since he moved into this house. His neighbor could definitely hear his nightly worshiping session if they went out into their backyard. It's not like he was loud on purpose, but when it came to the object of his affection he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It made him wonder on some occasions if he didn’t end up in a neighborhood full of perverts that loved listening to his lewd activities. At this point, his legs had started shaking violently from how sensitive he was, making him lean more against the wall for support.

“I’m just a dumb little puppy for y-you, t-touching my-myself everyday …Nnhg.”

He arched his back as his hand stroked his cock at a higher speed, crying out for them desperately. His imagination couldn’t settle on one vision. He kept switching from images of them bouncing on his cock to them bobbing their head up and down on it and even having them fuck his little ass raw. He only slowed down his movements to run his thumb under the foreskin of its head, filling his brain with an other wave of pleasure. 

“I’m a… greedy little mutt, so Uugh so greedy.” 

He cursed at himself under his breath for having such lewd fantasies about the person he loved, which turned him on even more. Precum was abundantly leaking out of the tip of his dick now, resembling pearly water drops. Wanting more, he used his free hand to reach under his turtleneck and pinched at his nipples. Jacce bullied the poor thing by twisting it between is fingers. He couldn’t help but shiver from the stimulation he was giving himself. 

“I j-just Unnf want to b-be yours.”

He sincerely wanted them to use him, ravage him even, but he also yearned for the sensations his darling would give his body. They would be so good for him just like he would be for them. 

Despite the fact that he wanted to continue more than anything, it had to last longer. As he felt his climax approaching, Jacce loosened his grip on his shaft. A pathetic whine escaped his lips while he tried to keep himself from cumming. He staggered to his feet, gripping the sink for support. He felt so weak, his legs hardly supporting his weight anymore. Every friction his dick received made him fold in half, prolonging even more his travel to his room. As he continued his journey, a long string of precum was left behind him. He will have clean it later, but for now he didn’t care if he made a mess. In a way, it was part of the fun.

He finally crawled onto the bed, lazily placing a pillow between his legs. It was wrapped with one of y/n stolen hoodies, in other words, his most prized possessions. Jacce winced when the fabric made direct contact with his glistening cock. He closed his eyes, trying to picture them under him, praising him for being able to hold his orgasm. He was being such a good boy for y/n, why couldn’t they see? 

He started humping that thing like the horny mutt he was. His ass wiggling cutely from the incessant movement. Jacce wanted them to see him like this so badly. A pure mess that couldn’t help but make high pitched whines at every trust. 

“I j–just want to cum for you, all f–for you.” He mumbled, while tears rolled down his face, cheek flushed. 

His cock was so sensitive, giving him the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. He wasn’t capable of closing his mouth anymore, drool leaking out of it like a waterfall. Jacce tried to keep up the speed as he chased his inevitable climax.

“Master, I'm c-cumming, A-ah… I'm cumming! I… l-love you!” He cried out while thrusting his hips forward uncontrollably, shooting hot ropes of cum all over the pillow. 

After falling face first onto the bed, he pulled it up to his chest, cradling the dirty hoodie as if it was really them, but ultimately it wasn’t enough. He was just too impatient to tease himself for an extended period of time. In addition, the desire to cum and becoming dumb for a few seconds was way too alluring. Jacce was sure that if he was with y/n, they would edge him way longer than what he could ever do. 

He knew for a fact that's what they would do, since, one time at the cafe, he had the chance to watch them enter the code on their computer. With that crucial information he was able to open it when he broke into their house came unannounced. He was stunned when he saw the tags of the spicy fanfiction his precious darling reads. They both had the same taste in terms of kinky sex. Another proof to fill his delusion that he was destined to be theirs. 

As he laid there, tired and dazed, he thought about how nice it would be to be enveloped by their smell. He took a big breath into the hoodie. Yay it lost the particular scent he was looking for. He knew it was wrong, but maybe he could pay them a “visit”…just to feel a bit closer. Jacce looked at the clock. He still had time to do it before they arrived at their apartment. 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Even if I only post it now, this was actually the first yandere story I ever wrote, back in september of 2023, so the writing maybe be less good than my other stuff!

This story will also be posted on my ao3 account

Plus an old drawing I made back then for this chapter

[tbaluver]

I Saw Mommy Kiss Santa!- The Love And Deepspace Men

in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader summary: your child(ren) caught you and santa kissing! genre: fluff fluff + silly + drabble a/n: hihi again lovelies ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ justt one moree holiday drabble just bc i love the holidays and i've always wanted to do holiday posts! this isn't proof read btw i had the idea written out and i wanted to make sure this gets posted before christmas at least- i hope you all enjoy reading and i hope you all have a happy holidays! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

it was well past midnight meaning it was officially christmas day. the cookies you and the kids had left out were completely gone, quite literally no crumbs on that plate and the glass of milk was left empty right beside it.

although xavier didn’t really like the idea of santa claus, he could tell how excited his boys were when santa was going to visit overnight. you had mentioned that they might try to peek, given how excited they were that they couldn’t sleep, so xavier thought it was a good idea to help keep the surprise.

however both of you didn’t expect that they would peek in the worst possible moment.

xavier had just finished placing the last presents under the tree while you were wrapping up the dishes you’d used to bake with the boys. as you walked over to him, you’d admire the scene he’d set up for them so perfectly, you couldn’t help but smile. it truly did look like santa had come.

you lean in to kiss xavier, his hands naturally wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. but little did you both know, your two boys had quietly sneaked down the stairs and were watching from the steps.

before either of you could react, they charged at xavier with plastic swords in their hands, ones that he had given them, and began attacking him. he was quick to stop them and the boys froze, their eyes wide in realization.

“huh? but we saw santa..where did he go?” the older one asked, clearly confused. their plan had failed.

“um.. ho ho ho? merry christmas?” xavier scratches the back of his head awkwardly as he sets their toys down on the couch.

“papwa where did santa go?” the youngest asked, his voice trembling as tears were welling up in his eyes.

“santa was in a hurry tonight,” xavier says softly, kneeling down to their level and pats both of his son's head. “santa was nice enough to lend me his suit..so i became santa’s helper.”

you crouch down beside them, trying to calm them down. “why did you attack your father? i’m sure santa wouldn’t have liked that.” you asked softly.

“we saw santa kiss you momma!” they exclaimed in unison.

xavier turns his gaze to, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. “santa kissed you?”

you had to explain to xavier later that he was santa after you put the boys back to bed.

Zayne:

it was well past midnight meaning it was officially christmas. your daughter was tucked into bed while you and your husband just waited a little longer to ensure she was asleep before starting to make it look like santa visited.

your husband loved you and your daughter more than anything. which is why tonight he was determined to make it perfect and the reason why he was wearing the santa suit you had secretly bought him. it was an effort to see that big smile on her face when she woke up. however you try to hold back your laughter every time you pass by him in that red suit.

zayne used his evol to make a few final touches to the scene. he conjured up a powdery snow on the floor, carefully leaving footprints to mimic santa’s path. he made sure to eat the cookies and drink the milk that you and her left out, also leaving snowy handprints. zayne also made sure to leave a beautifully written thank you note near the empty plate, making sure it was written differently than his.

once everything was perfect, you leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around your waist, the other gently cupping your cheek as he leaned in for a soft kiss. as he pulls away, he whispers, “merry christmas my love.”

but neither of you were unaware that from the spot behind the stairs, your daughter had peeked through the railings, watching you kiss santa.

christmas morning

your daughter came running into your bedroom, squealing in excitement as she jumps onto your bed. she tugs both of you to get up as she drags you both down to the living room where a mountain pile of presents laid under the tree.

but there was a moment of hesitation on her face. you exchange a curious glance with zayne as your daughter stopped in front of the tree.

“what’s wrong dear?” zayne asked, kneeling down to her level.

she twiddles her thumbs nervously, her gaze darting back and forth between you and zayne. “well..” she hesitates, “i-i know i wasn’t suppose to be awake last night.. but i hear santa’s boots and i wanted to see if he was really there. and he was!”

you raised a brow, realizing what she meant. but you didn’t understand why she seemed so conflicted. “you heard santa? did he wake you?”

you daughter nodded eagerly, “yes i saw him! but..i saw mommy kiss santa!” her voice trembling.

you both froze for a moment, exchanging a look. zayne tried his best not to crack a smile but you could see the corners of his lips twitching.

“no, no hon,” you try to reassure her before it escalates to anything else, “i didn’t kiss santa.”

zayne nods along, “it’s true she didn’t kiss santa. she was just giving him a hug, my love.”

your daughter’s eyes widened with curiously as she darts her gaze between you and zayne, “really?”

zayne smiles softly, lowering himself to her height. “yes, mommy was just thanking santa for all the presents because you’ve been such a good girl this year.”

relief flooded your daughter’s face, making you both relax. her smile lights up the room as she threw her arms around you both, hugging you tightly. “yayyy! santa must like mommy a lot then!” she chirps happily.

“of course he does. now, let’s see what he’s brought you this year.”

Rafayel:

surprisingly it did not take you that long to convince rafayel to play santa. sure, it was meant for you rather than for the kids but he took the role very seriously even when the children weren’t evem around to witness it.

all he had to do was eat the cookies, stomp around in his boots to make sure the kids could probably hear him in the living room and neatly arrange the presents under the tree. but no, rafayel decided to go all out. and honestly, you couldn’t say no his dedication and work.

he starts by making a grand entrance, the sound of jingling sleigh bells ringing near the children’s room, only for it to backfire. the noise woke up the kids and they all debated if they should sneak out to see if santa was really here.

rafayel didn’t stop there just yet. he called a in a few of his friends, the seagulls, to nibble on the carrots left for the reindeers, making sure there were a few crumbs scattered to ensure they were eaten. he even made sure to leave tracks outside the house to show that reindeers were definitely there.

but that wasn’t the end of it. using powdered sugar, he carefully creates santa’s footsteps around the living room to make it look like santa himself had walked around and set up the presents. as you finished up filling the fifth stockings and stepped back to admire the scene, you couldn’t help but feel excited when your children wake up in the morning.

rafayel steps out of the powdered sugar footprints and saunters over to you with a playful grin. “well? give santa a kiss?” he says, spreading his arms wide. you rolled your eyes playfully but you couldn’t resist. walking into his arms, you lean up to press a soft kiss against his lips. his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer while the other tangled gently in your hair, deepening the kiss.

but before either of you could fully enjoy the moment alone, you heard a small thud and a very panicked rafayel. “hey!! glub glubs-!”

the kids had been watching the entire kissing scene unfold from the stairs and before any of you could react they rushed over, tackling santa rafayel. the squealing stopped abruptly when they looked up. their faces frozen in confusion as they realize it’s their father.

“fawther?” one of them asks, eyes wide.

“papa?” the other repeats, staring at him in total disbelief.

“you..you’re santa?”

rafayel sat up as he brushed himself off, “listen glub glubs..don’t tell anyone okay?” he winks at them, motioning for them to come closer. “you see.. us lemurians actually work with santa. we have an important job in making sure sharks don’t eat him if the reindeers fall asleep. and this year.. santa needed a little help making sure your presents came in extraaaa safely!” he closes his eyes dramatically while nodding. he knew he played it off well when he hears the kids gasp and squeal in excitement

rafayel grins, standing up and playfully ruffling their hairs. “yupp! now let’s get you all back to bed. ya know you shouldn’t be up right now or santa might come back and take all your presents away!” he teases as they gasp in unison, shaking their heads furiously.

“what if he comes back and kisses mommy this time?”

rafayel chuckles as he turns his gaze to you and raises a brow, “puh-lease. as if i’d ever let him.”

Sylus:

it was a few hours past midnight, meaning christmas had finally arrived. while your daughter was tucked in, you and sylus worked under the warm glow of the fireplace and the tree lights, setting up presents and carefully arranging them to make it look like santa paid a visit.

you thought it would be funny handing him a red suit and boots to stomp loudly on the floor but little did you know sylus had his own revenge. with a smirk, he hands you a silly oversized elf hat. ‘my perfect little helper’ he teases.

you carefully stuffed extra toys and candy into her stockings that hung over the fireplace as sylus made a show eating a few of the cookies you had baked together with her, making sure to offer you a couple bites as well. he made sure to leave her a special postcard for her and made sure to ‘accidentally’ drop one of santa’s golden bell.

when you both finished setting everything up, you stood back and admired both your work. everything was perfect and you couldn’t wait for your baby girl to see that santa had visited.

sylus slips his arm around your waist, pulling you close. he lowers his height and presses his soft lips against yours as you slip off the ugly elf hat he’d given you. but neither of you knew that your daughter along with mephisto was quietly watching from behind the banister.

her eyes widened in disbelief as she exchanges looks with mephisto. how dare santa make a move on her mommy? before either of you could react, she charges down the stairs.

your daughter rushes straight at sylus, who was dressed as santa while mephisto swung at you instead, squawking extra loudly as it flapped around you. your daughter tugs at santa sylus’s boots, wailing, “go away leave mommy alone!”

but when ‘santa’ crouches down at her, her eyes widened with shock. she realized that it was her father underneath the suit. he gently scoops your daughter up as he stops mephisto from attacking you. “what’s the matter, sweetie? you know you’re not supposed to be awake right now,” he says gently.

her eyes threatened to spill tears while her lower lip trembled, “i-i..i heard santa and I just wanted to see him! and then i saw mommy kiss santa!” she whimpered

sylus glanced at you with a raised row, trying not to crack a smile. “sweetie..don’t worry. mommy would never kiss anyone else but you and me,” he says softly, brushing her hair from her face. “santa knew you were awake, so we switched places.”

you daughter gasped, sitting up in sylus’s arms with wide eyes. she looked back and forth between you both, “waaowww!”

you were honestly equally impressed by how quick he had come up with an explanation and at how well he played along. “now, now..let’s all get some sleep and we can see what santa left us in the morning, okay?”

“yayyyy!” she cheered, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, momentary mean! Steve, established relationship, lil bit of angst, PIV sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, hate sex turned make up sex WC:2.2K

A/N: Why not? Enjoy!

"So we're still fighting, huh?", Steve narrows his eyes at you from the kitchen entry way.

He's a picture of disarray — shirt misbuttoned, belt buckle in need of fastening, tie draped loosely over his shoulders and hair a wild, mussed up mess.

His unruly state came to be as a result of forgetting to set his alarm after your heated exchange last night, waking to find he was running late for work and you hadn't bothered to rouse him like you usually would have.

His sarcastic barb goes seemingly unheard though when you refuse to look up from the dishes you're scrubbing in the sink, back still turned to him even though the crumbs from your breakfast of blueberry jam on toast have long been washed clean from your plate.

It was a disagreement blown out of proportion that had caused the friction between you two. Steve had hoped sleeping it off would help to cool your tempers enough to reconcile in the morning but now that seems as likely as him making it to work on time.

Or was it?

He sighs, a clear note of irritation coming through because he should be digging through the laundry basket in search of his socks before he tries to shove his feet inside his shoes without them again in his rush, not rooted in place, eyes dark and stony but taking you in.

Of course you'd try to give him blue balls on top of it all too.

He grits his teeth as he stares at you in your too short satin robe, every inch of your legs and thighs on display as the hem hangs high, just a few inches below the swell of your ass. Practically dangling yourself in front of him.

He enters the kitchen then and though it feels risky approaching you the way that he does, he recognizes that the air's thick with a familiar kind of tension when he comes up behind you.

Quickly and none too gently, he rucks up your robe to confirm a suspicion he'd been harboring. He finds you're nude underneath the thin, silky layer when you allow him just a glimpse, swatting his hand away with a look sharper than a knife's edge when your eyes connect with his over your shoulder.

But Steve knows better than to take it seriously. There's no ire behind your glare — no unspoken threat meant to make him retreat. You're still mad, sure, he can feel the heat radiating off of you just as it's made his own skin warm but your expression softens just enough to confirm that what you really want is for him to come closer. And that's exactly what he does.

You feel the warmth of Steve's chest pressing against your back when you turn to the sink once more, his arms caging you in place, leaving you no room to escape. The water continues to run until he closes the faucet too, leaning down to whisper into your ear. "This how you want to solve it?", he asks, pulling his hand back to lift your robe again only this time you don't attempt to thwart him, letting him cup your ass and squeeze your soft skin. Hard.

The heat of last night's fight had died down to a simmer but it left you both burning in a different, much more familiar way as you answer him.

"Yeah. This is how I want to do it", you utter loud enough for him to hear you clearly though this close together, there's nothing he can miss no matter how softly you might whisper it.

The sound of his belt coming undone has you buzzing beneath your skin while you brace yourself, curling your fingers under the edge of the countertop as Steve finishes pulling out his girthy cock. But before he even attempts to get it anywhere near your entrance he holds out his palm to you, knowing that he doesn't need to ask for you to spit into it, something that feels instinctual now at this stage in your relationship as he draws it back and slicks up his cock with your saliva.

With his length coated in a warm, glossy mixture of your spit and his precum, Steve doesn't keep you waiting for long, your legs parting to help with easing the tip of his cock in.

"Does it hurt?", he asks and while it might sound like he's only concerned about you, you can hear the heat still present in his veins.

"A little", You answer with a little heat of your own, no intention of asking him to stop.

"Good. I know you can take it", he tells you, all thorns and shit eating grins.

It doesn't happen as easily as when you two take the time to engage in foreplay first, your body usually opening up to accept him once he's gotten you ready with his tongue or fingers but this time Steve manages to notch his tip by your hole and breach you once it pops inside with a little effort, the rest of him slowly sinking inch by inch into your velvet heat.

Despite the wetness that smears your inner thighs, your whole body tenses and you have to breathe through it, pain marrying pleasure while you're being stretched open, hissing under your breath when he reaches his base. He spends a few seconds all the way inside you, just feeling you wrap around him and squeeze, your walls pulsing when he decides that's as soft as he'll allow himself to be with you today.

And he proves it when he begins pulling himself out, only to grit his teeth and drive himself back in again, making you squeal instantly, getting you thoroughly acquainted with the feeling and the force of every thrust as his pelvis bounces against your ass.

Steve so rarely ever fucks you like this and you're so caught up in taking his cock that you barely notice the way he reaches up to pull the front of your robe open too, realizing what he's done when he finds your nipples and begins to pinch and tug on them, smirking when it draws a high pitched whimper out of you as your steady breathing turns to shallow pants.

But you're not some delicate flower type. You're not one to be so compliant and let him ruin you so easily. So while Steve's busy fondling your chest you're quick to even the score when you grab hold of his right hand, lifting it up to your mouth so you can sink your teeth into the soft skin between his thumb and his wrist.

The pained hiss turned groan he lets out despite himself is a small victory but a sweet one nonetheless, enough to make you smile around his throbbing hand before deciding to remove your teeth from him, making sure to scoff at him all smug as he rubs at the little red teeth marks left behind on his tan skin.

Of course he takes it as well as a throatful of glass, considering the act a challenge for more.

Steve offers you one small moment of respite, slowly pulling almost all the way out, making sure his swollen tip remains inside you while you sigh, only to make you choke on a moan when he pushes all the way inside again in a single hard thrust, punching the air out of you.

You wanted to retaliate again, maybe reach behind to sink your nails into his thigh, scraping at his skin until narrow lines or blood rise to the surface or even rip at the clothes that hang on him in his state of half undress but you're unable to follow through this time with how he's managed to rattle you.

Steve's far too pleased to feel your elbows start to shake as your arms struggle to keep you up at this point, set on making your knees wobble too just so he can gloat about it later when you find it difficult to pick yourself up off the kitchen floor and walk away once he's done with you.

Slowly, Steve withdraws again, glee lighting up his eyes when he pushes back in with the same force of that first sharp thrust and this time you fail to stop a short scream from ripping out of your throat, back arching from how well and hard he's pressing against that spot deep inside you.

"Something you wanna say, sweetheart?", he sneers and taunts, pleased when you struggle to put together a coherent sentence while trying to endure his unforgiving pace. "Spit it out before I stop being so nice."

You muster what you can and manage to whimper it out, feeling so worn out though you haven't even reached your climax yet.

"Cum inside me. Please", you tell him — beg him, fingers turning cold and numb from how hard your grasping the countertop.

He's nothing short of cocky when he hears you whine all desperate and spent, a smug sense of accomplishment washing over him when he sees the thick coating of slick and cream you've left on his cock as he watches it withdraw and disappear inside you one harsh thrust after the other.

And then you tell him the rest.

"M—miss you when you're gone. Need to —ngh. Need to feel you in me when you're not here", you manage to string the words together before letting out a sound that's somewhere between a gasp and a whine, the kind he'll think about later on his own, working himself up until he's got no choice but to pry it out of you again.

But this isn't one of those moments, no matter how much he'd liked the sounds falling from your parted, panting lips.

Steve loses his rhythm before he stills completely inside you, your words sinking in like nails piercing his skin.

This was it. The crux of last night's argument.

You missed Steve. He'd been working too hard lately and you'd grown concerned. With the stress of his job and the little sleep he'd had he'd grown defensive and you'd gotten irritated, both of you clashing when you should have been listening and working together.

When he had woken up this morning Steve had cooled down enough to know he'd been unfair to you the night before. He was usually the type to talk things out but he'd gotten swept up in how things happened to pan out today, wrapping an arm around you tenderly, the hand you'd bitten placed over your thumping heart. He nuzzles his chin onto your shoulder to get closer to you, the stubble he'd been unable to shave this morning scratching against your skin gently as he whispers into your ear with so much sincerity.

"I'm sorry— I'm so sorry."

The sound of him all earnest and ragged makes you melt in his hold because you know how much he means it — you can practically feel how much he means it as it sinks into your skin and reaches into your ribcage.

Like Steve, you would have been open to talking it out had this been a regular fight. This particular fight however had you dumping more fuel on to the fire that roared between you because it required more than just words to resolve everything. It needed more than swapped apologies for the two of you to make amends and return back to normal.

You really needed to fuck it out. All teeth and nails and sore, spent bodies.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too", you answer, a smile growing on your parted, panting lips. "Now fuck me, will you?"

It catches Steve off guard enough to make him snort, thankful that the worst of your fight is behind you now as he starts to pick up the pace again, firm but also tender with the way his lips move against your neck and his fingers brush and roll at your nipples.

"Going to make it up to you, baby. Gonna be around more. Gonna be here for you, okay?", he pants against your skin, all gravelly groans and grunts with his nails digging into the skin on your waist.

You moan out his name, using what little strength you feel you have left to push yourself back to meet his thrusts. "Steve, oh fuck... I'm so close. I need you— I fucking need you, please."

He snaps his hips against your ass again, drawing out a blissful shudder out of you. "Gonna make it all right but until then—", you feel him draw away from you a little bit then, his hands leaving your body as you realize that he's going through his pockets.

With his cock still buried inside you and throbbing, he pulls out his phone and begins dialing, his thrusts commencing again, steady and deep enough to make your whole body draw tight, your release within reach.

"Try to keep it down while I call in sick, okay? Gonna have you all to myself today. Promise I'll keep you nice and full— gonna look so beautiful when you're dripping with me..."

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 11.9k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: dishin these chaps out series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

Himari is not having a good day. 

First, her burgundy patent leather Saint Laurent Nano Sac De Jour bag is ruined by the help accidentally dropping it on the dirty sidewalk, she lost her favorite lipgloss, and finally, probably the worst of them all, her so-called “boyfriend” isn’t acting very boyfriendly. Sure, he took her out just last night for dinner, and sure he fucked her good when they got back to her place, but he left before she even woke up. Treating her like she’s just a dirty hooker. He’s barely even responding to her texts, letting his ringing go to voicemail. She’s confused, annoyed, and extremely infuriated. There’s no reason for him to be acting like this all of a sudden; she’s his girlfriend for crying out loud.

So why is he being so secretive and mysterious all of a sudden? Why is he almost acting like he doesn’t have a girlfriend?

The sound of her red bottom heels pacing her living room is the only thing heard in the spacious environment. Biting her French-tipped thumbnail, eyes flickering to her cell phone that lays face up on the glass coffee table constantly. She has a right to act this way, she thinks to herself. Did she do something wrong? Did she make him mad? The sharp click of her red-bottom heels echoes through the pristine silence of her living room, the noise rhythmic but erratic as her thoughts spiral. Himari continues to gnaw on her perfectly manicured French-tipped nail, her polished demeanor crumbling bit by bit. As she keeps looking back at her phone, it’s like a silent challenge she can’t seem to ignore. The empty screen glares back at her, fueling her growing anxiety. She’s his girlfriend, after all. What could she have said wrong? She doesn’t remember doing anything to upset him. 

Her mind races, replaying every interaction over the past few days. The dinner last night, the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. The fleeting moments of silence during their conversations, like he was somewhere else entirely. And this morning—no note, no text, no explanation. Just...nothing. She takes a seat and her nails dig into the leather armrest of her designer couch. Glaring at her phone again, willing it to light up with his name. But of course, the screen remains stubbornly dark.

No. This isn’t her fault. Satoru is the one being distant and evasive. He’s the one shutting her out. This is not her fault.  Her heel taps against the floor, her frustration bubbling over. Maybe he’s testing her, she reasons. Trying to see if she’ll chase him. What a bastard.

Her jaw tightens, her perfectly sculpted features twisted in a mixture of anger and determination. Twirling a piece of her long, lusciously healthy caramel hair. No, she decides, she won’t let him get away with this. She’s not some woman he can keep on the sidelines, only to toss a crumb of attention whenever it suits him. If Satoru thinks she’ll just sit here and wait, he’s gravely mistaken. She’s Himari Nakamura for god’s sake, her parents own Tenka Couture—one of the most, if not the most sought out and luxurious fashion brand in all of Japan. 

She grabs her phone and scrolls through her contacts, pausing at his name. Her thumb hovers over the call button, but instead, she opts for something more pointed—a text, again.

We need to talk. Don’t keep me waiting.

The message is curt, sharp, and dripping with the subtle implication that she’s losing patience. Tossing the phone back on the table, she exhales sharply, her chest rising and falling as she tries to reel in her emotions. But it’s no use. The uncertainty, the rejection—it’s eating her alive.

Himari’s gaze flickers to the ornate mirror hanging on the far wall, her reflection staring back at her with a mix of vulnerability and fury. She’s not used to feeling like this—out of control, discarded. Satoru has always been the one to chase, to charm, to reassure her of her place in his life.

So why now? Why does it feel like he’s slipping through her fingers?

A sudden, dark thought creeps into her mind, unbidden but insistent. What if there’s someone else?

Her stomach churns, the idea sending a fresh wave of anger coursing through her veins. No. That can’t be it. Satoru wouldn’t dare. Would he? The phone buzzes, jolting her from her spiraling thoughts. Her heart leaps, but when she sees the name on the screen, her hope evaporates.

It’s not Satoru. It’s his mother. She stares at the screen, her thumb hesitating over the answer button. What could she possibly want? She finally concedes, pushing her hair over her shoulder, and smiling. “Hello, Mrs. Gojo. What a pleasure to speak to you again.” She greets the older woman on the phone with a wave of politeness. 

“Ah, yes. Himari, are you busy right now?” Satoru’s mother, Akane Gojo, replies back. Her aged voice mixed with a hint of reluctance that makes Himari want to call her a bitch. She doesn’t—she’ll never. She’s not that idiotic. 

“No, ma’am. I’m not, may I ask why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you happened to know where my son is. My husband has been trying to get a hold of him all day and he isn’t answering. Is he with you?”

So, he’s not with his parents either. That’s even more shady. Just what the hell is he up to? “No, actually, I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him since yesterday. I was starting to get a little worried.”

Himari hears the other woman sighing over the phone, muttering something about how her son is a headache. "Well," Akane begins again, her tone sharp with a tinge of frustration, "if you do hear from him, could you tell him to stop avoiding his family? It's unlike him to ignore us like this."

"Of course, ma'am. I'll let him know as soon as I can." Himari’s voice is syrupy sweet, masking her own irritation.

"Good. Thank you, dear." There's a beat of silence before Akane continues, her tone shifting to something more pointed. "And, Himari, I hope you understand how important Satoru's family obligations are. It’s important he doesn’t forget that."

Himari freezes for a moment, the subtle jab not lost on her. "Of course, ma'am," she replies smoothly, though her grip tightens on the phone. The call ends, leaving Himari staring at the blank screen, her mind racing. Family obligations. Avoiding his parents. Acting strange. All of it points to one undeniable truth: Satoru is hiding something. Her nails drum against the glass coffee table as she processes Akane's words. For a moment, she considers whether Satoru’s mysterious behavior has to do with the Gojo Group’s business dealings. But no, he’s always managed to balance that side of his life without much issue.

This time, it feels...personal almost. She stands abruptly, pacing the length of her living room once more. If his own mother doesn’t know where he is, then who does? 

Satoru, the wealthy, trust fund man that he is, has multiple places he calls homes. It’s proof of the fact that he has money, lots of it—more than what he knows what to do with. There’s the high-rise penthouse, where most people will find him. Next, the Next, the sprawling countryside estate nestled just outside the city—a retreat designed for privacy, complete with lush gardens, a pristine pool, and the kind of modern architecture that graces the covers of luxury magazines. This place, he rarely visits, but it’s there, waiting for him whenever he craves solitude away from the chaos of his social and family obligations. Then there’s the minimalist townhouse downtown, a sleek and understated property he keeps for the sake of convenience. Its location near the financial district makes it the perfect spot for impromptu meetings or when he wants to blend into the hustle and bustle of the city without drawing too much attention.

And finally, there’s the seaside villa. A true gem perched on a cliff with an uninterrupted view of the ocean. It's a home reserved for moments when life feels particularly overwhelming, a place where he can lose himself in the sound of the waves crashing below and the horizon stretching endlessly before him. Each property represents a different facet of his life: the penthouse for the public figure, the estate for the privileged heir, the townhouse for the businessman, and the villa for the man who sometimes just wants to escape it all.

Despite all these homes, none of them feel like home.

Lately, though, he’s been spending more time in places that aren’t tied to his wealth—places like a run-down apartment complex on the other side of town. It’s jarring, even for him, to walk through the cracked pavement and hear the hum of buzzing fluorescent lights in the lobby. But that’s where she is. Where they are. 

After seeing that place for the first time a few days ago, he automatically felt uneasy—maybe even disgusted. That is not the kind of place he wants his son being raised, where he wants you living. It’s a place for the unsavory group of people. Sure, it’s a little thoughtless of him to think these things because everyone has different situations, like you for example. But as stated before, he’s a spoiled brat to the core. So while he didn’t outwardly show it (at least he thinks so), Satoru hates the place you and his son call home. 

He’s brewing in these thoughts in his villa. Sitting on the white lawn chair, watching the pearly waves hit the shore and back. His phone’s on silent, taking pleasure in his solitude. For a second, he entertains the brief thought of being with his son and you instead. He can imagine the smile that grows on his face, watching the pretty sight in front of him. He can almost picture it clearly: the sight of you two laughing, Koji’s excited chatter, and the way your eyes soften when you look at him. It’s a nice thought, but he quickly dismisses it. You’ve made your choices, his choices for him. 

Still, the image lingers in his mind. Koji, smiling up at him, full of admiration. You, guarded yet warm, offering him a smile that could mean more if he allowed himself to lean into it. The waves crash again, louder this time, and Satoru snaps out of his reverie. His fingers twitch at the side of his chair, but he doesn’t reach for his phone. Instead, he forces himself to stay present. The world he’s created for himself is simpler when it’s just him. No obligations, no questions he doesn’t want to answer. But that image of you and Koji is still there, in the back of his mind. 

He doesn’t know why, sure he can imagine himself being with his son. But you too? The woman who lied behind his back for years, the woman who he doesn’t know would’ve ever told him if his best friend didn’t run into you? He sighs, a frustration that isn’t entirely his own settling in his chest. The villa’s quiet, but his thoughts are anything but. He looks out over the horizon, trying to push the feelings away, but they remain, a constant whisper in the back of his mind. What if things could be different? 

But there’s no going back now. The phone buzzes again, but this time, he ignores it. He can’t afford to entertain any distractions—not now. The solitude feels safer, at least for now. He’ll drive back in a few hours, but for now, he likes it here. 

“You look like you’d be a good mom.”

You falter, hands pausing around the pot of hyacinths. Giving your boyfriend a weird look, one of confusion and small disbelief. “Hah, what?”

He simply shrugs, watching you go back to fixing the displays of flowers. He’s half tempted to spout some cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the plants, but he’s already done that five times today. He watches you with that signature grin that says he knows exactly what he’s doing. “What? It’s true,” he says with a shrug, his pale blue eyes sparkling with amusement.“Yeah, you know—you got those like, instinctual mother thingies.”

“What even makes you say that?” You huff. 

“I’ve seen you with kids.”

“And?”

“Andddd,” he drags the words out, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I like it, looks good.”

You can’t help but snort, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. “You’re unbelievable.”

“No, really,” he insists, his tone softening just enough to make you glance up at him again. “You’re kind, patient—except with me, obviously—and you care. It’s cute.”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at your lips. “You’re so weird to even be thinking about that right now.”

“Maybe,” he says, stepping closer and brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “But I’m not wrong.” For a moment, his words hang in the air, and you find yourself wondering what it might mean—if he’s just teasing, or if he’s thinking about something more. The thought makes your chest tighten in a way you can’t quite name.

“You’re really something, Gojo,” you mutter, shaking your head as you turn back to the flowers, hoping he doesn’t notice the faint warmth creeping up your cheeks. “We’re nineteen and you’re immature.”

“Something amazing, obviously,” he replies without missing a beat, his grin widening. And just like that, the moment lightens, though his words linger in the back of your mind long after he’s stopped teasing. “And I’m not immature—at least not too much.”

You hum, rolling your eyes. “Debatable.”

He leans on the counter again, his head tilted as he watches you with that annoyingly familiar mix of mischief and curiosity. “Debatable? Come on. I’m the perfect blend of maturity and charm. Like... the top-tier boyfriend package.”

“Top-tier, huh?” you say dryly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite yourself. “Is that what you call forgetting our coffee date last week?”

“That was one time!” he protests, holding up a hand like he’s pleading his case in court. “And I made up for it, didn’t I? Flowers and donuts. And sex.”

“Uh-huh, right, right.” You dismissively respond. 

“You know, someday you’re going to look back at nineteen-year-old me and think, ‘Wow, I was so lucky to date this guy.’”

“Or I’ll think, ‘What was I thinking?’” you counter, though your smile gives you away.

Satoru laughs, his hand brushing against yours for just a moment as he reaches for the pot of hyacinths. “Nah, you’ll think, ‘Man, this guy’s been stealing my heart since day one.’”

You roll your eyes again, but the warmth in your chest lingers. Even if you won’t admit it, a small part of you wonders if he’s right.

You sigh this time, brushing your hand over the petals of the purple hyacinth. Its fragrance fills the space between you two, sweet and heavy, like the weight of the moment you’re trying to ignore. “You’re way too confident, you know that?”

“I prefer the term self-assured,” Satoru counters, but there’s something softer in his tone now. Less teasing, more genuine. He leans a little closer, his eyes fixed on you like he’s trying to memorize this moment. “And hey, don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Your fingers are still against the stem, and for just a second, the air shifts. His words hang between you like a thread, fragile and thin, threatening to snap. “You’re exhausting, Gojo,” you murmur, your voice quieter this time. But there’s no bite to your words, only a faint ache you can’t quite name. 

“And yet, you keep me around,” he says softly, his grin faltering into something smaller, more vulnerable. His hand brushes against yours again, deliberate this time, and your breath catches. His longer fingers interlacing with your own, bringing the back of your hand up to plant one kiss, then another, and another to your skin—slowly making his way up your arm.

“Sometimes I wonder why,” you admit, a half-hearted laugh escaping you as you shake your head. The pot in your hands feels heavier than it should, your grip tightening just slightly. Reveling in the warm feeling of his lips, a small breath of air leaving you.

He doesn’t answer right away, and when you glance up at him, you find his gaze steady on yours. There’s no mischief now, no playful grin. Just him. Just Satoru. “Maybe it’s because we fit,” he says finally, his voice almost a whisper. “Even if it’s messy or complicated... it feels like it’s supposed to be this way.” His lips are now on your shoulder, marking up to your neck; to which he spends extra time at.

Your chest tightens, and you quickly look back at the flowers, pretending to adjust the display again. “You’re talking like we’re some kind of fairytale, Satoru.” Your hand lets go of the pot, settling it back on its shelf. Cheeks beginning to heat up and you do your best to hold in the pathetic mewl that threatens to leave your mouth when he sucks just a little too sharp.

“Maybe we are,” he replies without hesitation, and there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your heart ache. But fairytales don’t last, you think, the thought clawing at the edges of your mind like a dark shadow. You don’t say it out loud, though. Instead, you force a small laugh, pushing the heaviness aside.

“You’re too much,” you murmur, shaking your head again, eyes closing shut.

Satoru watches you for a long moment before leaning up to your ear. You feel his grin returning, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

You don’t respond, but the silence that follows feels louder than it should. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this moment—this version of you and him—is fleeting. Like the flowers in the pot before you, it’s beautiful, but it won’t last forever, especially with how…different you two are. You don’t tell him that, though. Instead, you smile faintly, keeping your eyes on the flowers, and let the moment linger just a little longer. Letting him continue to worship your skin in kisses, reaching your lips in a magnetizing way that always leaves you begging for more. It’s your own way of letting yourself bask in the simplicity and intimacy of one another, pushing back the brutal thought that this could all change. 

Preparing yourself for the worst, the inevitable because you’re too afraid to admit to yourself that you’re already playing a dangerous game, already biting off more than you can chew. 

The weight of your unspoken fears settles heavily in your chest, threatening to suffocate the fragile warmth between you. Still, you cling to it—this fleeting moment of love—as if holding on tightly enough might make it last. Satoru reaches out again with his other hand, his fingers ghosting over yours, but this time it feels different. Less playful, more deliberate, like he knows something you’re too scared to confront. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, a reminder that he’s here now, that you’re here now.

But for how long?

You glance up at him, catching the faint crease between his brows, the way his lips twitch as though he’s searching for the right words. Or maybe he’s feeling the same quiet dread you are, that bitter knowledge that life has a way of pulling things apart, no matter how tightly you try to hold them together.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. His teasing bravado is gone, leaving only raw sincerity behind.

You force a smile, one you know doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. Just... thinking.”

“About?” he presses gently, his gaze unwavering, his thumb moving across your cheekbone gently.

“Nothing,” you lie, your fingers brushing over the petals again, grounding yourself in their softness. “It’s nothing.” Satoru doesn’t believe you, you can tell by the way his eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he leans back, his shoulders relaxing as he shifts the conversation.

“Y’know,” he begins, his grin returning, though softer now, “if you ever get tired of the flowers, I’m always available for career advice. I’m an excellent life coach.”

You laugh despite yourself, the sound thin but authentic. “Yeah? What’s your first piece of advice?”

“Marry rich,” he quips, winking, but the joke falls a little flat. “Meaning me, baby,” he adds, bringing you close by an arm to your shoulders, kissing your temple. You shake your head, but the laughter fades too quickly, leaving you both in the quiet again. The thought returns, sharper now, that this could all slip through your fingers.

And maybe that’s why you let yourself lean into him just a little more, let the edge of your shoulder brush against his. It’s why you kiss him back when he leans back into your lips. It’s not much, but it’s your way of holding onto this moment, even as the inevitability of its end looms over you like a storm cloud. Because deep down, you already know the truth: you’re playing with fire, and it’s only a matter of time before the flames consume you. 

You already know a man like Satoru Gojo would never stay with someone like you.

You jolt upright at the sound of your blaring, very annoying alarm. Quickly turning it off, you give yourself a moment to blanky stare at your sheets. Rubbing your eyes. Were you really just dreaming about that? Or no, it wasn’t a dream—but a memory. A distinct, longing feeling begins to pool in your gut. The kind that makes you feel numb and unresponsive, the kind you get when you just dream about some mystery man you fell in love with but can’t remember his face. You shake your head, trying to push the feeling away as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. The room feels colder than usual, the early morning light barely filtering through the curtains. It’s a struggle to move, the weight of that memory—no, that ghost of a feeling—pressing down on you.

Satoru.

What once was.

The way your chest tightens, the ache that feels both familiar and unwelcome, tells you everything. You can almost hear his voice, playful and warm, teasing you like he always used to. You can almost feel his touch, fleeting but deliberate, like he was trying to leave a mark without you noticing.

God, why now? For what reason? You’ve long been over him, haven’t you? No doubt he has, considering he’s more than likely dating someone right now. You wonder when—or if—he’ll tell you. He has to, right? Because if this woman will possibly be around your son in the future, you have to know who she is, just like she has to know who you are. And if she and Satoru perhaps get married in the fu—

You quickly stop your train of thought.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake it off. There’s no time for this. You have too much on your plate to sit here drowning in nostalgia. The rent. Koji. Work. Life doesn’t pause just because your subconscious decided to dig up a piece of your past you’ve tried to bury. But the feeling lingers, refusing to let go. You stumble into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in the hopes that it’ll snap you out of it. For a second, it works. The chill jolts you awake, and you grip the edges of the sink, staring at your reflection.

“You’re fine,” you mutter under your breath. “It’s just a memory.” But your reflection doesn’t look very convinced.

Busying yourself with your other life and mom responsibilities proves to work, the thought of your dream this morning and Satoru in general being pushed to the back burner. You rather it be this way, it’s easier to function. 

“I’ll probably be a little late to pick you up from school today, Koji.” You tell your son, hand clutching his as you make the way to his school. The morning is colder, having dressed him in a puffy jacket, a beanie, scarf, and cute mittens you crocheted when you had the passion. 

He looks up at you, bottom lip jutting out into a frown. “Why?”

You sigh, not sure how to explicitly explain that you’ll be putting in an extra hour today at the cafe so you can scrounge up as much money as you can for the money due this Friday—in two days from now. It really feels impossible, but you’ll find a way. “Mama has to work a little longer today, I’m sorry.”

Koji’s frown deepens, his small brows furrowing as he kicks a pebble along the sidewalk. "It's okay, Mama. I can wait." His words are simple, but the way he says them—the way he tries to be understanding beyond his years—makes your heart ache. You hate this. Hate that he even has to think like this. He should be carefree, worrying about which dinosaur to play with or what snack he’ll get after school. Not whether his mama is working herself into the ground. 

You’re feeling extreme guilt again. Wondering and worrying that you’re making him grow up too fast. But tons of kids stay a bit later at school when waiting for their parents to pick them up, don’t they?  You force a smile, squeezing his hand gently. "Thank you, baby. You're such a good boy."

His face lights up at the praise—as always. He starts talking about what he’s looking forward to in class today. You nod and hum along as he chatters, trying to match his energy, but your mind is already elsewhere. Two days.

You’re running out of time, and no matter how many hours you squeeze into the day, it doesn’t feel like enough. You’ve thought about asking for help, swallowing your pride just this once, but the options are limited. The last thing you want is to open that door with Satoru, and there’s no one else who can offer the kind of money you need.

By the time you reach the school gates, you’re exhausted—mentally more than physically. Kneeling to adjust Koji’s scarf and beanie, you kiss his cheek and give him your warmest smile. "I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? I promise. I love you."

"Okay, Mama. I love you too," he says, his grin wide and trusting as he hugs you tightly before running off to join his classmates. You stand there for a moment, watching him go, before turning and heading toward the café. Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of your reality pressing down on you.

Two days. And not a second to waste.

But just because things never seem to go right for you, Mr. Ito comes out from the classroom, standing by his door. “Oh, Ms. Y/N? Good morning.”

Jesus Christ, can he just take a fucking hint. You’re literally walking away. However, you put on a facade of politeness and turn around to face him, holding back a scowl at his ever-present smile. “Good morning, Mr. Ito.”  

He spares a quick glance into his growing room of children before stepping away and closer to you. Instinctively, you take a small one back. “How are you today?”

“I’m great.”

“That’s good to hear,” he nods, clasping his hands behind his back. His eyes do a quick scan of you, and you could almost swear you see his smile widen—like he’s appreciating the sight. Dirty bastard. 

You suppress a shudder, keeping your expression neutral. This obviously isn’t the first time Mr. Ito has made you uncomfortable, but you’ve learned to play nice for Koji’s sake. After all, the last thing you want is to make things awkward between your son and his teacher. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ito, but I really need to get to work,” you say, shifting your weight to one foot, hoping he gets the hint.

“Oh, of course,” he replies, though he doesn’t move away. “I just wanted to tell you how impressed I am with Koji’s improvement with his behavior. He’s such a bright boy, and so polite too. A testament to your parenting, I’m sure.”

There’s something about the way he says it—too smooth, too rehearsed—that makes your stomach churn. You force a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you. Koji works very hard.”

“Yes, well, if you ever need to discuss his progress or anything else, my door is always open. Even outside of school hours,” he adds, his tone far too suggestive for your liking. 

Didn’t he already say this line before? Your grip tightens on your bag, but you keep your composure. “That’s kind of you, Mr. Ito. Have a good day.” Before he can respond, you turn on your heel and walk away, heart pounding. The nerve of that man. You’d always sensed something was off about him, but lately, he’s been crossing more lines, and you’re starting to feel trapped.

It’s not like you can pull Koji out of the school—this is the best option you can afford right now. And confronting Mr. Ito? That could easily backfire, making Koji’s time in class unbearable. As you walk to work, the weight of your problems feels heavier than ever. The looming eviction notice, the landlord’s constant pressure, and now, Mr. Ito’s thinly veiled advances.

Two days. 

You shake your head, forcing yourself to focus. You don’t have time to worry about Mr. Ito or anything else. Right now, all that matters is making it to Friday.

“Did you yell at her?” is the first thing Suguru asks. After not seeing his best friend for a week, Satoru would’ve thought he’d have something else to say. However, he can imagine he just wants to get down to the point after he sent the black-haired man a message about seeing you for the first time again. 

“No, I didn’t.” Satoru cooly responds, finger tapping along the glass rim of his overly sugar-infested coffee. Suguru takes a seat across from him, giving his friend an analytical glare. Satoru’s dining room, save for the weird tension of words having yet to be spoken. 

Suguru leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. "So, what did you do then? Stare at her like a creep?"

Satoru's lips twitch into a smirk, but there’s no humor in it. "I talked to her, obviously."

"Obviously," Suguru repeats, the sarcasm thick. He glances at the untouched plate of food in front of him. "And how’d that go?"

Satoru shrugs, the motion too nonchalant to be genuine. “She was...surprised. And emotional, but I can’t really blame her for that.”

"Emotional, huh?" Suguru raises a brow. “Did she apologize?” 

Satoru nods. 

"I’m guessing you didn’t hold back."

"Why should I have?" Satoru snaps, his voice sharper than he intended. "She’s lucky I didn’t do worse, she honestly deserves every single fucking thing I told her, and more.”

Suguru doesn’t flinch at the outburst. Instead, he lets the words hang in the air, his silence more pointed than anything he could’ve said. Satoru sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t yell at her, okay? I barely even argued. I just...listened and answered.”

"And what did she say?"

Satoru hesitates, his eyes drifting to the cityscape visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse. “She told me why she kept it a secret, how she felt, and whatever.” Satoru's jaw clenches, the memory of seeing you cry filling him with dread—like it used to way back then. He’s surprised he was that receptive to it, especially that quickly. Luckily, he held back the almost innate urge to bring you into your arms and comfort you. Because again, you don’t deserve his comfort right now.

Suguru pauses, letting his own curiosity win over. “Well…why did she do it?”

There’s a moment of still quietness while Satoru thinks over the other man’s question. Satoru’s gaze remains fixed on the cityscape, the towering buildings blurring as his thoughts churn. His chest feels tight, a cocktail of emotions he doesn’t have the energy to name swirling in his gut. Anger, hurt, guilt—they’re all there, fighting for dominance. “She didn’t give me a chance,” Satoru mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “She decided for me. Like I didn’t deserve to know. Like I wouldn’t have...tried.” He swallows hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. He’s never been good at this—this vulnerable, messy part of himself. The part that cares too much, that aches too deeply. “I’m angry,” he finally admits, his fingers drumming against the table. “I’m so fucking angry at her for thinking so little of me. But at the same time... I…I think I get it. It was the rejection she was scared of, the first failed attempt, she didn’t want Koji growing up like me, she…she didn’t think I was ready, either. She said she was trying to protect us all.” His words are low and hushed, even reciting them making him feel as if he needs to spill his guts. “She doesn’t deserve it, she doesn’t deserve my understanding, my empathy for her, she…she doesn’t deserve anything. I shouldn’t feel bad for her, I shouldn’t. But I do for some fucking reason, and it’s making me so fucking confused.”

Suguru doesn’t interrupt, letting him vent. Satoru’s words come faster now, spilling out like a dam breaking. “And now, I’m just...stuck. Stuck between being pissed off at her and hating myself for thinking she’s right.” He runs a hand through his hair again, tugging at the roots as if the pain will ground him. “Because she was right, wasn’t she? I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. I would’ve run. I would’ve hurt her in ways she didn’t deserve.”

The admission tastes bitter on his tongue, and for once, Satoru doesn’t try to mask it with bravado or a joke. “But now,” he continues, his voice softer, tinged with something vulnerable, “I just keep thinking about Koji. About all the time I lost. About how I don’t even know how to be a dad, let alone his dad.”

Suguru leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “Do you want to be his dad?”

Satoru doesn’t answer immediately. His thoughts drift to Koji’s small, curious eyes, the way the boy had looked at him with a mix of wonder and wariness. The way they got along so well, so quickly. The way the boy was so excited to teach his dad about dinosaurs, to play with him, to his infectious laugh when Satoru lifted him high up in the air. “I don’t know how to,” Satoru finally admits, his voice breaking slightly. “But I want to try.”

Suguru nods slowly, his gaze steady. “Then that’s a start.”

Satoru exhales, the weight on his chest lifting just slightly. But even as the conversation eases, the storm in his mind rages on. Because no matter how much he wants to move forward, the shadows of the past—and the fear of screwing up—loom large. And the fact that he doesn’t know how he can get resolve things with you. How is he just supposed to co-parent and see your face so casually after what you did? 

Is he supposed to just remain cordial? Closed off? Or should he try to fix things? 

But what things even need fixing, there’s nothing between you two. There’s no “them” anymore. There hasn’t been for years. And if there were, shouldn’t that be your job? This entire situation is your fault. You should be the one begging on your knees for forgiveness, you should be groveling for the fact that you kept his son a secret. He’s justified, isn’t he? In being cold? Closed off? In letting you feel every ounce of the pain you caused him? 

The bitterness twists in his chest, a dark, venomous thing that urges him to lash out, to make you feel as helpless and raw as he does. For a fleeting, horrifying moment, the thought slithers in: You should be the one who’s grateful that he didn’t do anything extreme like try to take Koji away from yo–

What the hell are you saying? 

He feels convicted suddenly, wanting to punch himself for even daring to think such an evil thing. Is he that angry? Petty? Does he want to get back at you that bad that he’d threaten to take away your kid from you? The thought makes his stomach churn, the self-loathing hitting him like a punch to the gut. His grip on the edge of the table tightens, knuckles whitening. He’s not that kind of person. He’s not that cruel. No matter how angry, how hurt he feels, he couldn’t do something so vile.

He’s just not. But he just feels so conflicted and…unsure about everything. 

But the anger doesn’t vanish—it just twists into something deeper, more insidious. He feels so troubled, so lost in the storm of emotions that he can’t tell which way is up anymore. And yet... amidst all that chaos, there’s another image. One that keeps replaying in his head like a stubborn melody.

Because he could see it—see how your eyes lit up with a motherly joy after Koji called your name for attention, how you smiled instinctually when seeing your son, how your voice softened so perfectly it practically pulled him in too. He sees the way your face relaxed when Koji tugged at your sleeve, the way your whole being seemed to light up just from hearing his voice. The joy, the pride, the pure, unfiltered love that radiated from you—so natural, so raw, it made him pause.

And for a split second, Satoru forgot the anger, the betrayal, the hurt. He only saw you. You, as a mother. You, as Koji’s mother. Somewhere in the muddled mess of his thoughts, an ache blooms. Not just for the time he lost with Koji, but for the life he lost with you. Because no matter how hard he tries to deny it, part of him still remembers the way you used to smile at him like that. And the other part of him wonders if he’ll ever see it again. 

The war in Satoru’s mind is relentless, his thoughts ricocheting between anger and guilt, blame, understanding, and even longing. Every time he tries to land on a conclusion, another surge of emotions pulls him in a different direction.

Satoru clenches his jaw, his finger now still against the coffee glass. “I didn’t know about Koji.”

“No, but you knew about her.”

The words hit harder than Satoru wants to admit. He doesn’t respond, and Suguru doesn’t push, though the weight of his stare lingers. After a moment, Suguru sighs. “Look, man. If you’re serious about making things right, about stepping up and being a father, you can’t go back. Sure, you just met the boy, but it’s up to you and her to make sure you make up for the time you lost with him—to create even more memories with him. You have to prove you’ll be there for him.”

Satoru looks up at him, his eyes shadowed with something Suguru rarely sees in his best friend—doubt. “And if it’s too late?”

Suguru gives him a small, sad smile. “Then you make sure it’s not.”

It’s around nine at night, the convenience store’s ambience slowly drifting you into a sleepy state before you catch your head upright. It sucks having to force yourself to stay awake, already on your third cup of coffee today with two espresso shots. At this rate, you don’t know if you’ll be able to sleep, but it’s better that than not getting through your days at work. If anything, you can try melatonin again, even if that is just a blatant scam.

Scrolling on your phone through Indeed, Zip Recruiter, and LinkedIn. You hate seeing the same few jobs that say they’re hiring, but ghost you. Or the jobs that you seem completely too unqualified for that it makes you self-concsious. You’re aware you didn’t finish college, very aware. A part at you constantly eats away at your soul, mind running to the loud thoughts of “what if”. What if you finished college? What if you didn’t have Koji? You quickly push that idea away, feeling mad at yourself. You wonder if it’s bad of you to think about never being a mother—if other parents do that too.

It’s just a simple thought. You don’t regret Koji, you never could or would. Still, you can’t stop thinking at time about how life would be if you had a child later on in life. If you had a stable job, life, everything. Would things be better—different? Would Koji have been happier?

The thoughts gnaw at the edges of your mind as you sip from the coffee cup, the bitter liquid doing little to soothe the ache growing in your chest. The sinfulness hits you almost immediately, sharp and unforgiving. It feels wrong to even entertain the idea of a life without Koji, like some kind of betrayal to the tiny, beautiful soul who depends on you.

But you’re tired—so, so tired. And sometimes, when the weight of it all feels like too much to bear, those questions creep in, uninvited and insidious. They don’t mean you love Koji any less. You know that. Still, the mere existence of the thoughts makes you feel like a failure, like you’re not doing enough or being enough. You scroll through the endless job listings again, each rejection or impossibility hammering another nail into the coffin of your hope. A lump forms in your throat as you stare at the screen. Your hands tremble slightly, whether from exhaustion or the overwhelming sense of inadequacy, you’re not sure.

Again, you shake your head, forcing the thoughts away, but they linger like a shadow you can’t quite shake. Koji’s smile flashes in your mind, bright and pure, his laughter echoing in your memory. He’s your light, your anchor in the chaos. No matter how hard things get, you always find your way back to him. But even as you remind yourself of that, the doubts creep back in. Are you enough for him? Are you giving him the life he deserves? You hate that your answer feels so uncertain.

The soft hum of the convenience store's fluorescent lights pulls you back to the present. You set your phone down, closing your eyes for a moment as you press your palms against your forehead. You want to cry but know you can’t afford the luxury of breaking down, not here, not now.

The truth is, no matter how much you love Koji, you feel like you’re drowning. You’re just too good at treading water, keeping your head barely above the surface, to let anyone notice.

And so, you lose focus on your phone and exist in the present. You can’t change the past, but you can change your now, and your future. That starts with working hard, harder than you ever thought you could. The people who rise to the top, the people like Satoru, they fight for what they have. It’s a dog eat dog world out here, and you’d be damned if you let someone else best you. 

You’re the ruler in your own life, not Satoru, not money, not evictions, nothing. It’s you. It’ll always be you. You’ve been working since you were fourteen, practically emancipated because your own sorry excuse of parents couldn’t have been more bothered. 

That’s another thing that’s your driving force. Just like how you didn’t want Koji to grow up like Satoru, you didn’t want him to grow up like how you did either. You would never—ever—be like them. You pledged that, took an oath. Sure, things aren’t looking very good right now. But you’re strong, resilient, smart. You will get through this. For Koji, and for yourself. 

Hard workers get what they worked for. You’ll be there soon. Patience is a virtue, and slow and steady wins the race. 

Almost two hours have passed, once again putting in an extra hour. Right in the middle of ringing up some drunken college girls who came in for snacks, your phone in front of the register rings. You look down, it displays a number you know by heart. Mumbling a ‘have a good night’ to the girls who stumble their way out, you take the liberty to answer; not before you take a deep breath in, however. 

“Hello?”

“Hey.” 

“Um…hey. Can I help you?”

“I’m coming over tomorrow.”

You pause for a moment, the phone pressed tightly to your ear as Satoru's words register. It takes a second too long for you to find your voice again, the casual confidence in his tone throwing you off balance. “Tomorrow?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden swirl of emotions his call stirs. “Okay, why?”

He scoffs. “Because I want to see him,” Satoru says simply, as if his answer explains everything.

Your lips purse, a mix of frustration and anxiety bubbling to the surface. “Satoru, it’s not that simple—”

“It is that simple,” he interrupts, his voice calm but laced with a sharp edge. “I haven’t seen him in a few days. I’m not waiting any longer, I want to see my son.”

Your grip tightens on the phone as your free hand balls into a fist at your side. The words you want to say die in your throat, the late hour and your sheer exhaustion making it hard to form a coherent argument. “I…I–I have work tomorrow, he has school.”

“So I’ll come over when he’s out of school,” he counters, his tone softening slightly but still resolute. “Look, I’m not trying to fight with you. I just want to see my son. We’ll figure the rest out as we go.”

You glance around the empty store, the harsh fluorescent lights casting long shadows. The reality of the situation presses down on you, the fact that this is something you’ll have to get used to, have to allow. Because he deserves it. “Fine,” you say quietly, your voice almost a whisper. “He’s off at 2:30, we get home around 2:40, you can be there by that time.”

“I’ll text before I get there,” he promises, though the nonchalant way he says it doesn’t do much to ease your questionable nerves. “See you tomorrow.”

The line goes dead before you can respond, leaving you standing there in the dim light of the convenience store, the phone still pressed to your ear. Tomorrow. You set the phone down, your hands trembling slightly, unsure as to why. It’s just the fatigue. Or maybe it’s the fact that Satoru is officially back in your life, his face will be a regular occurrence now. 

He’s here for Koji. That’s all. Don’t look into it.

When you slug back home, the first thing you do—after paying Sana—is count your money. Mr. Sato needs around four thousand dollars, you’re still fucking short. 

“Nine-hundred.”

“Thousand.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

A thousand short, plus another hundred for the utilities. And he needs it by Friday. It’s Wednesday. 

On a scale from one to ten of how screwed you are, you’d give yourself an eleven. It’s hard to even admit that to yourself, feeling your hot tears wet the green paper in frustration. Gritting your teeth so hard you can hear the creaking of your muscles in your ears, a ringing noise following after. You sit there, staring at the bills fanned out on the table like they’re mocking you. The tears won’t stop, blurring the numbers, but you know them by heart. A thousand short for rent, a hundred for utilities, and nothing left for groceries or the babysitter fees piling up in the back of your mind. 

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down, but it’s like trying to hold back a tidal wave. The frustration spills over, hot and suffocating, as you swipe the money off the table in a fit of anger. The bills scatter across the floor like fallen leaves, and for a moment, you just sit there, trembling in the silence. “Goddamn it,” you mutter under your breath, clutching your head as if that’ll stop the spiral of thoughts. You can feel the panic rising, the way it always does when you’re this close to breaking. How are you supposed to keep everything together when the universe seems hell-bent on tearing it apart? You can already feel your migraine coming back like an old friend, feeling its twisting and pulling on your brain. 

Koji’s soft footsteps break through the haze, his small voice pulling you back to reality. “Mama?”

You hastily wipe at your face, trying to compose yourself as you turn toward him. He’s standing in the doorway, clutching his favorite stuffed animal—a tattered little bear you bought second-hand years ago. His big eyes are filled with concern, and it breaks your heart even more. “Hey, baby,” you say, forcing a smile you don’t feel. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

He shakes his head, padding over to you and climbing onto your lap without a word. His tiny arms wrap around your waist, and for a moment, the world doesn’t feel as heavy. You stroke his hair, letting the quiet stretch between you. “Mama’s just tired,” you murmur after a while, hoping he doesn’t ask too many questions.

Koji looks up at you, his brows furrowed in a way that reminds you so much of Satoru it’s almost painful. “Are we okay?”

The question hits you like a punch to the gut, but you nod, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “Of course we are, baby. Don’t worry about a thing, okay? Mama’s got it all under control.” It’s a lie, but it’s one you tell for his sake. Koji doesn’t need to know how close to the edge you really are. And you’d never let him know just how close you are from sinking completely, he’s too young, too innocent. 

After a few minutes, he’s able to drift off to sleep in your arms, you stare at the scattered bills on the floor, your mind racing. Tomorrow, Satoru will be here. Maybe—just maybe—you can ask him for help. The thought makes your stomach churn, pride and desperation warring inside you. Are you even allowed to? What would he say?

But what choice do you have?

You need this place, no matter how ragged or disgusting Satoru—or anyone for that fact may think it is. It’s home. Home to you, and home to Koji. You’ve stopped caring about what others thought og you a long time ago. It still comes back, of course. Especially in your most vulnerable, most small of moments. And when it hits you, you realize how much you didn’t miss the feeling. You desperately wish you can just give absolutely zero fucks all day, everyday. 

That might be impossible.

As long as you just hold it down, you’ll be good—you think. 

For Koji, for Koji.

Walking Koji home the next day from school, you’re focused on checking the time of your phone; surprised when the young boy suddenly rips from your grip and runs forward. Instantly, you look up and call out for him in a hurry. “Koji! Do—”

“Papa!” 

Satoru, who’s waiting outside your apartment door, crouches down to your son’s height, arms held out with a wide smile on his face. Koji melted into his embrace, small arms wrapped around his father’s neck. Satoru hugged the boy, running a hand up and down his back slowly. “How was school, my big boy?” “Good! We learned about plants, and I drew a sunflower!” Koji exclaims, his words tumbling over each other in excitement as he pulls back slightly to look at Satoru's face. His little hands grasp Satoru’s jacket, his wide eyes sparkling with pure joy.

Satoru’s expression softens even further, a rare glimpse of unguarded tenderness crossing his features. “A sunflower, huh? That’s my favorite flower. Did you know they always turn toward the sun?”

Koji nods eagerly, his grin spreading even wider. “Yeah! The teacher said that too. I wanna show you my drawing when we get inside!”

“Of course. I can’t wait to see it,” Satoru says, ruffling Koji’s hair before standing to his full height, the boy still clinging to his leg like a koala. His gaze shifts to you, his smile faltering just a fraction as his expression becomes unreadable. “Hey.”

You stand a few steps away, your heart caught in your throat. Watching the two of them together feels like a punch to the chest—bittersweet and raw. You manage to swallow the lump in your throat and force a polite smile. “Hey.”

Satoru takes a step closer, his tone light but his eyes piercing. He simply nods in response. 

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. But there’s an ache beneath the surface, a mix of guilt, resentment, and longing you can’t quite shake. Koji looks happy, that’s all that matters. You step forward to unlock the door.  “I have my other job to get to,” you say finally, keeping your tone neutral. “Do you think you can watch him until his babysitter comes?”

Koji rushes in, but Satoru lingers, looking at you. “Who’s his babysitter?”

“Sana, she usually comes a few minutes before I leave, but if you’re here I can go earlier.” You walk in, arm brushing against his that sends an uncomfortable tingle down your spine—one you ignore forcibly.

He follows in, closing the door behind him. Standing a bit awkwardly around the living room, watching you hang your coat and purse up. “I didn’t know you worked two jobs,” he says, almost like he’s not sure if he should be voicing out this small curiosity of his. 

You pause mid-motion, fingers lingering on the hook of your coat rack. For a moment, you consider not answering, brushing it off with some noncommittal remark. But the weight of his gaze is palpable, pressing down on you until you finally sigh and turn around to face him. “Yeah,” you say simply, your voice flat. “Bills don’t pay themselves.” There’s an edge in your tone, one you don’t intend but can’t quite help. His eyes narrow slightly, and for a moment, you think he might argue, but instead, he just nods, his expression unreadable.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head as you move to the small kitchen area to grab a glass of water. “Tell you? What would that have changed, Satoru? Would you have swooped in and made it all better?”

His jaw clenches, his hands flexing at his sides before he crosses his arms over his chest. “Maybe I would have. But you never gave me the chance.”

You set the glass down harder than you meant to, the sound of it hitting the counter echoing in the silence. “You don’t get to say that,” you snap, turning to face him fully. “You don’t just show up now and act like you care about how I’ve been keeping things together.”

“I do care,” he shoots back, his voice rising slightly. “You think I wouldn’t? That I don’t give a damn about you—Koji?” The small correction doesn’t get missed by you.

“You didn’t care enough to stay,” you bite out before you can stop yourself. 

The words hang in the air, sharp and cutting. His expression falters for just a moment before his face hardens, a wall going up that you recognize all too well. God damn it. Why do you keep bringing up the past and your shitty breakup?

“That’s not fair,” he says, his voice low. “You made that decision for the both of us.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you can’t speak. The two of you stand there, the room thick with tension, until a small voice interrupts.

“Mama?” Both of you turn toward the hallway, where Koji stands in the hallway, tilting his head. Holding his colored paper of a sunflower in his hands. “Are you fighting?”

Your heart aches at the sight of him, his small frame dwarfed by the weight of the conversation he doesn’t understand. You put on a smile, crouching down to his level. “No, baby. We’re just talking, that’s all.”

Satoru steps forward, his face softening as he kneels next to Koji. “Yeah, buddy. We’re not fighting. Everything’s okay.”

Koji looks between you both for a long moment before nodding, though his expression still carries a hint of worry. “Okay,” he turns to Satoru. “Here Papa, my drawing.” 

The two move to the couch, Satoru listening with fascination as Koji talks and talks and talks. His father doesn’t seem to mind, however. Occasionally touching his cheek or pushing hair out his face as if to remind himself this is real, that this is his son. You look away and go to your room, locking the door as you begin changing into your uniform for the convenience store. In a few minutes, you’re out and putting your shoes on. Satoru and Koji are now discussing video games. 

“I’m heading out now, baby.”

“Alrigh—”

“Okay, Mama.” Koji cuts off Satoru, to which the latter is glad because why the fuck did he just almost respond to you? He knows you weren’t talking to him, he knows you wouldn’t ever call him baby again, but it just felt so natural and instinctual. 

Strange.

He watches you come on over to give Koji a hug and kiss, awkwardly clearing his throat in the seat beside his son; looking away like he’s intruding on something. And so you won’t see the odd flush to his pale cheeks. 

“I’ll watch him, don’t call the babysitter.”

You pause mid-motion, your arms still loosely wrapped around Koji. Slowly, you pull back, giving your son a soft smile before turning your attention to Satoru. “Are you sure?” you ask, your tone careful, guarded. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Satoru scoffs lightly, waving a hand in dismissal as he leans back in his seat. “It’s not an inconvenience. I’m his dad, remember? I can handle one night.” His words feel heavier than they should, loaded with the unspoken history between you two. You don’t miss the slight edge in his voice, though he keeps his expression neutral.

Koji, oblivious to the tension, beams up at his father. “Can we watch that superhero movie, Papa?”

Satoru grins, ruffling Koji’s hair. “Of course, big guy. Popcorn too. But after you finish your homework.”

You hesitate, your eyes flickering between the two of them. It’s hard to argue when Koji looks so happy, his excitement practically radiating off him. Finally, you nod. “Okay,” you say, grabbing your bag and coat, walking over to the door. “Just... don’t let him stay up too late.”

“Got it,” Satoru replies, his tone almost flippant, though there’s a hint of seriousness beneath it. You linger for a moment longer than necessary, your hand hovering on the doorknob. There’s something about leaving the two of them together, about seeing Satoru slip so naturally into this role, that stirs something warm in your chest.

“Alright,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I’ll be back around twelve.” With that, you step out into the cool evening air, the door clicking shut behind you. You exhale, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest—wary, relief, maybe even longing.

Inside, Satoru watches the door for a beat longer than he should. Then he shakes his head, turning back to Koji with a forced grin. “Alright, champ. Let’s see what homework you have today.” But as Koji chatters excitedly, Satoru can’t help but feel the weight of your absence pressing down on him, more than he’s willing to admit.

It’s around eight at night now. Satoru took the liberty of making some dinner for Koji, but after sifting through your bone empty pantry and refrigerator, he orders take out. The two are watching Spiderman: No Way Home. His arm is slung around his son’s shoulders, the two sharing a bag of fries. He can almost feel Koji starting to drift off, the sensation of his body sinking further into his side makes him smile subconsciously. However, that small, tender moment is broken when there’s a sudden pounding at the door. 

Satoru looks back over the couch, confused as to who the hell could be trying to see you at this time of night. A hookup? Boyfriend? No, no. Don’t think that.

He looks back down at Koji who’s giving him an equally confused, but tired face. “Is that Mama?”

“No, don’t think so, little man.” You said you’d be back by twelve, it’s only eight. That’s weird. “Stay here, okay? I’m gonna go see who it is.”

Koji nods, Satoru gently laying him on his side and grabbing a fuzzy throw blanket to tuck him in with. He stands with a small grunt, walking over to your front door. He peeks through the hole and sees a man he’s never seen before, Old, ugly, and hairy. He scoffs. The hell do you want? He unlocks it, opening up and coming face to face with the man. 

Mr. Sato regards Satoru with surprise and confusion, bushy brows furrowing. “Where’s Y/N?” he asks, tilting his head to try and get a look over his shoulder.

“She’s at work.” Satoru replies, on guard and a hint of firmness in his voice. “You need her?”

“Correct.”

“And who are you again?”

“The landlord.” Mr. Sato says, heavily huffing as he gazes back up at Satoru. His frown deepening when he feels his neck angle up. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Late.” Satoru simply mutters, arms crossing. “Gotta come back another time.”

“I can’t,” Mr. Sato gruffs. “I need to talk to her about the money now.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens at the mention of money, and a flicker of realization crosses his sharp features. He leans against the doorframe, casually intimidating, his sheer presence making the older man falter for a second. "Money?" Satoru repeats, his tone cool but laced with an edge. "What money are we talking about here?"

Mr. Sato straightens, trying to regain his composure despite the younger man's imposing demeanor. "Rent," he clarifies, his voice firm, though his eyes avoid Satoru's piercing gaze. "She’s late on payments. Again. I’ve already given her an extension, but this can’t keep happening. I gave her until Friday but something came up and I need it now.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow slightly, his posture shifting. Late on payments? He processes the words, his mind jumping to the extra hours you’ve been working, the tired look in your eyes, the way Koji’s jacket was patched up with care but still clearly worn. The pieces click together uncomfortably.

"How much does she owe?" Satoru asks, his tone still calm, though the intensity in his eyes makes the landlord hesitate.

"That's between me and her," Mr. Sato replies gruffly, puffing out his chest as if to assert some authority in this lopsided interaction.

Satoru doesn’t miss a beat, his expression hardening. "Well, she’s not here, so now it’s between me and you." There’s a beat of silence, tension thick in the small space.

Mr. Sato shifts uncomfortably under Satoru’s gaze, his confidence wavering. “Four thousand,” he finally admits, his voice lower. “I told her I need it by Friday, but things changed. She said she’d have it.”

Satoru lets out a slow breath through his nose, his jaw clenching as he processes the number. Four thousand. A drop in the bucket for him, but for you? It might as well be a mountain.

“If she doesn’t have it, I’m gonna push forward with the eviction, I already have possible renters lined up with a more stable income.”

Eviction? And from a place this shitty? Satoru’s jaw clenches, eyes raking over the older man. “Well, she’s not here.”

“Then let me call her.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow, a flicker of something dangerous sparking in his gaze as he steps fully into the doorway, his towering frame casting a shadow that swallows the smaller man in front of him. The landlord, suddenly aware of the shift in the air, takes a half-step back. "You’re not calling her," Satoru says, his voice low and measured, carrying an edge sharp enough to draw blood.

Mr. Sato frowns but falters slightly, the confidence in his stance wavering. "Look, this isn’t personal. It’s business. If she can’t pay by the deadline, I have no choice but to move forward. That’s how it works."

Satoru tilts his head, a ghost of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, but there’s no humor in it—just a cold, calculated edge. "Business, huh? Funny thing about business—it’s always personal when it’s someone else’s life you’re messing with."

"She’s late. I’ve been lenient," Mr. Sato protests, though his voice is quieter now, almost defensive.

Satoru’s smirk vanishes, replaced by an icy glare that feels like a physical weight. "Lenient? Let me tell you something. You don’t come here throwing around eviction threats like you’re some kind of god deciding who stays and who goes. That’s not how this is going to play out."

Mr. Sato scoffs with a scowl, arms crossing. “Listen here, I don’t know who you are, or who you think you are. I don’t give a damn about that. All I care about is having the money, right here,“ he holds his palm out. “Right now.”

Satoru chuckles lowly, but there’s no warmth in the sound—it’s laced with something menacing, something dangerous. His eyes, usually glinting with mischief, now burn with icy resolve as he steps closer, forcing Mr. Sato to look up at him again. "Who I think I am?" Satoru repeats, his voice soft but unnervingly steady, like the calm before a storm. "Let me make one thing clear—you don’t get to care about anything except what I tell you to care about. And right now, you’re going to care about backing the hell off." Mr. Sato’s scowl falters, his mouth opening to retort, but Satoru raises a hand, cutting him off before he can even start. "Because if you don’t," Satoru continues, his tone dropping lower, a subtle, menacing edge creeping in, "I’ll make sure you have a lot more to worry about than late rent. Understand?"

The landlord stiffens, visibly uncomfortable now, though he tries to hide it with a scoff. "You threatening me? That’s illegal, you know."

Satoru smirks again, but it’s colder this time, a predator toying with its prey. He leans in just enough that his towering presence feels suffocating, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Illegal? Oh, I know all about what’s illegal. But see, the thing is, I don’t need to do anything illegal to make your life a living hell. A call here, a visit there… You’d be surprised how quickly someone like you can lose everything they’re so desperate to cling to. You should really care about who you threaten, this is my son and his mother you’re talking about.”

The unspoken promise in his words hangs heavy in the air, and for the first time, Mr. Sato’s bluster cracks. He shifts uncomfortably, glancing around as though expecting someone to step in and save him. Satoru straightens, his piercing gaze never leaving the man. "Take the money," he says simply, pulling out wads of cash from his wallet—carelessly tossing them at him, "and don’t let me see you again. Ever."

For a moment, it looks like Mr. Sato might argue, but the weight of Satoru’s presence, the absolute certainty in his voice, crushes whatever resistance he might have left. With a grunt, he snatches the money, shoving it into his pocket. "This isn’t over," the landlord mutters, but his voice lacks conviction as he turns to leave, his shoulders hunched under the invisible weight of Satoru’s words. Satoru watches him go, the cold fury in his expression lingering even after the door clicks shut. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, the tension in his body slowly unwinding.

Not over? Satoru smirks to himself, shaking his head. "Senile bastard doesn’t know what he’s saying.” He turns back toward the living room, his eyes softening slightly as they land on Koji, still sleeping soundly. The weight of his own actions sits heavily on him, but he pushes it aside. There are more important things to worry about—like making sure you and your son never have to deal with scum like that again. But also, finding some way to talk to you about this eviction. 

Would you have ever told him? Would you have asked for help? Are you going to continue to keep secrets from him, even though they directly affect his son—affect you?

The sound of hurried footsteps, practically running footsteps, sounds throughout the long corridor. Ignoring and maneuvering out the way of the office employees who regard the person with confusion and annoyance. There’s a singular focus in their movement, a sense of urgency that prickles the air. The familiar, large doors of the office are in line of sight, to which the person rushes inside. The grand, imposing doors of the executive office burst open.  Usually, he’d knock and wait, but not this time. 

Inside, Yamato Gojo sits at the head of a polished, expansive table, his wife, Akane, poised elegantly at his side. Around them, a small group of sharp-suited businessmen turn toward the intrusion, their murmurs of surprise quickly silenced by Yamato’s cold, calculating glare.

The informant can barely get the words out, stumbling over. “M-Mr. Gojo! I have—there’s—I—!” Their face pale and slick with sweat. Words fail them at first, a garbled mess of syllables spilling out in their panic. Finally, they manage to force out, "M-Mr. Gojo! You need to see this!"

Yamato leans forward, his eyes narrowing as he motions for the informant to come closer, his long fingers curling in a beckoning gesture. The air in the room seems to thicken as the informant, trembling, hurries forward and hands over a tablet. Akane leans in as Yamato taps the screen, her expression calm and unreadable—at least, until her eyes land on the image.

The sound of shattering glass cuts through the room like a gunshot as Akane’s wine glass slips from her hand, crimson liquid pooling across the pristine floor. Her gasp transforms into a piercing shriek that sends a chill through everyone present.

Because on the screen, displayed in haunting clarity, is an image that chills the air in the room: their son, unmistakably, embracing a younger version of himself—while your figure stands to the side.

a/n: uh ohhhh

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[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔸𝕝𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝙽𝙷𝙻!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙹𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

❕Warnings Contain Spoilers ❕

warnings: rafe’s pov, reader’s pov, dark!rafe, possessive!rafe, obsessed!rafe, graphic violence, mentions of blood, rafe considers kidnapping the reader, rafe beats up his co-captain and ties him up, oral (male + female receiving), dark!reader, ownership kink, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, kissing, unprotected p in v, praise, rough sex, cum tasting

This is an ask from my baby starkeysbabygirl for dark NHL!Rafe 💋 thank you for your ask, hun!!! The premise is reporter!reader, Rafe’s ex, interviews him and the other captain ahead of Friday night's big game. Rafe can't help but see the spark between them, and he wants to let her know who she belongs to

Masterlist

Rafe’s POV:

The camera light flashes; a typical pre-game interview, but my heart is beating out of my chest. I lean back slightly, relaxing on my leather couch. My co-captain Nate laughs, elbowing me playfully, joking about something, but honestly, I can’t fuckin’ hear it.

My girl… Well, at least she was.

She’s stunning, polished, and professional. She glances at Nate, then me, her face unchanging, calm, and collected, completely detached as I’m losing my goddamn mind at the sight of her so close to me.

She adjusts the microphone clipped to her blouse… red. My favorite color, especially on her, and I can’t help but wonder if she remembers that.

It’s been six months since we broke up. Six long months, but each passing day only made my obsession worse. She had a jealous streak that drove me insane, questioning every woman I so much as glanced at from the ice. Blowing up my phone to the point of exhaustion on away games just in case I found someone else. I tried to reassure her I was loyal, but it was never enough. And that exhaustion I felt didn’t even begin to cover it. I was over it completely.

Eventually, I snapped. I told her I was over her and the drama, the fighting; I was done trying to convince her she was all I wanted. That day, I broke her—shattered her heart completely—and when she walked out the door, I told myself it was for the best.

Or, so I thought.

But the truth was she never really left… I started following her career from afar, curiosity getting the better of me. I selfishly wondered if she was as affected by our breakup as I was, but she wasn’t. That curiosity turned into something darker—something I didn’t even recognize myself.

She'd landed the gig at ESPN she’d been working for, climbing the ladder from short vlogs to TV interviews. Every interview, every appearance, every event—I consumed it all, taking what crumbs I could get. I even started showing up where I knew she would be, affairs I would have skipped before, all in an attempt to catch her eye, but I never did.

All I want is her. All I want is to be close to her. Tonight’s my fuckin’ night.

To her, it’s just some informal interview—a change from her regular rinkside report or studio sit down. But to me, it’s one step closer to getting her back; she’s sitting in my place, on my couch, sipping a glass of water from my cupboard. It’s like she’s coming home.

“Alright, gentleman,” y/n smiles, pulling me out of my mind. Her voice was honeyed and dripping with confidence. I shut my eyes, hanging my head momentarily, trying to collect myself as she continued. “The Winter Classic is one of the season's biggest games; the match-up is electric on its own. Fans are buzzing about the drama between you and the Kings. How are you both feeling tonight?”

My lips curl into a smile as she asks me a question; well, us—regardless, the attention had me feeling like I just snorted a line. Riding high off the attention I had been craving for for months. My fix finally met. “Excited,” I blurt out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as she cocks her eyebrow at me. “Focused… This is the kinda hockey you look forward to playin’.”

“Absolutely,” Nate adds, cutting in, stealing her focus from me in the process. Her gaze flickers to him, the corners of her perfect lips curling into a slight smile that I didn’t get. A sharp sting of jealousy stabs through my heart. My blunt fingernails dig into the armrests of my chair, trying to stay composed.

”And you, Rafe,” she sings as she looks back at me. Fuck… My pulse spikes as my name passes her lips for the first time in months. She hasn’t mentioned my name once in any interview, podcast, or vlog. "As one of the league's top performers, do you feel the pressure to lead your team tomorrow?”

I draw a deep breath, thankful that I hung on to her every word instead of focusing on the sound of her voice alone—like music to my fuckin’ ears. “Pressure is part of the gig. I’ve always thrived on it.”

She nods, living in my words for a moment. “Spoken like a true captain,” she praises. Her compliment hits me harder than it should’ve, but I can’t help but blush at her words.

The interview presses on as the tension between her and me simmers beneath the surface. Even Nate can tell, his eyes moving between us when her gaze hangs a little heavier on me.

And then, something shifts.

Her attention pivots to Nate; the scales of her focus weighing in his favor. My heart breaks with each smile, each glimmer in his and her eyes. I watch her fall through my finger again, right into his hands.

And Nate—that motherfucker—he’s eating it up, flirting shamelessly, and worse, she doesn't seem to mind in the slightest.

By the end of the interview, I had all but fallen apart. Nate stands up, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt as he looks at her from across the room, no doubt eye-fuckin’ the shit out of my girl. I sip my coffee, observing her from across the room as she packs up her equipment, leaving my place with a little wave, nothing more, nothing less.

“Fuck, she’s stunning,” Nate hums. “Do you have her number?”

“No,” I press the word past my lips. Drawing a deep breath, I roll out my neck, trying to let his comments go.

"It’s alright. She probably has an IG account or somethin’. I'll just slide into her DMs. Probably safer that way anyway," he says with a smug smile, looking over with a wink like he’s talking to a friend, but that ship has fuckin’ sailed.

My jaw clenches tight, and every muscle in my body twists tight. I can’t let him see how much he’s getting to me… His words make me feel like I could lose my last shred of sanity.

Nate walks toward the door, slipping on his jacket. He digs his phone out of his pocket, sliding his finger across the screen before looking up at me again. “How do you spell her first name again?”

She’s probably gone by now. My hear’s racing. What the fuck am I doing? My mind pinballs between a dozen possibilities. What if it’s too late? What if she doesn’t want to talk to me? Do I take her? Take her, Rafe… What the fuck am I thinking? No… No. Talk to her? Yeah—Yeah, just talk. For now.

SCREECH.

She slams on the brakes as I stop her in the parking lot— thankful she parked in valet and not on the street, giving me a little extra time to get to her.

"Rafe?" She asks, her voice gentle and uneasy. “Are you ok-“

"Can we talk?" I cut her off with a breathless request, trying to sound calmer than I am as my heart pounds in my head.

She looks around the lot before turning her attention back to me. “… Sure.” She bends around, returning to the valet, before handing him her keys.

She walks toward me, doing nothing for my nerves as her jacket blows slightly with the breeze, the winter wind whipping her hair, making her look like a goddamn angel. My eyes stay locked on her, unblinking, not wanting to miss a moment as she clears the gap between us.

“What did you wanna talk about?”

"Upstairs…” I choke out. "Just for a drink."

We walk toward the elevator. The ride up is silent; tension between us, thick with unsaid words.

She walks into my apartment, stopping dead in her tracks.

The living room is wrecked. A lamp knocked onto the floor—glass shattered. Decorations are strewn and thrown to the floor. Sitting in the far corner of the room is Nate: tied to a chair, beaten face smeared with blood, his head hanging low.

She turns around, her trembling hand covering her lips, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Her gaze darts from mine to my hands. Shit… I look down, catching the blood; my knuckles split and broken.

“Y/n,” I start, and just as I do, her hand falls—from her smile.

She walks toward me, slow and deliberate, as my heart swells. Her heels click against the marble floor as she gets closer and closer. "Rafe," she hums, looking up at me through her lashes. "You did this for me?"

I draw a deep breath, looking down at her before me, completely overwhelmed. I don't know what reaction I was expecting or what thoughts went through my mind when I brought her back here, but a part of me knew this was what she wanted.

“I hated the way he was talkin’ to you,” I whisper.

She looks over her shoulder, taking in the chaos silently. Every piece of broken glass and a crimson streak of blood was just a reminder of how far I’d go, and still, for me, it was not enough. “I can't believe you did this for me,” she says the words weakly as a tear tumbles down her cheek.

“I’d do worse if it meant keeping you.”

She bites her lips, holding back her emotions. My stomach flutters as her hands slip into mine. “I missed you, Rafe. I think about you all the time,” she smiles.

“I can’t tell you how much I missed you… I’m sorry for following you—”

“I wanted you to,” she assures, giving me the answer I was hoping for.

"You started this career to be closer to me," I ask as I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her into me, my voice slow and steady, “didn't you?" She takes a little breath, looking down at the space between us, smiling before looking back up at me, nodding ‘yes.’

"I was hoping we’d run into each other and I’d get to apologize for how I acted-”

"Stop," I interrupt, my voice hoarse and broken with feelings. "I don't care about that shit. I’ve been messed up since the day you left."

Her eyes blink as she looks up at me lovingly. I cup her cheeks in her hands, brushing away her tears with my thumbs. "You're mine," I whisper. "No one else's. Say it.”

"I'm yours," she breathes. I look out of the corner of my eye, watching Nate struggle against the binds, breaking up our moment, making my blood boil.

“Let me go take care of him. Yeah?” I rasp, and she smiles.

I step toward him slowly as he battles even harder, that cockiness that he had in the interview stripped away. “Rafe—Rafe… I don't know what the fuck is goin’ on, man. Just let me go.”

I kneel beside him, looking him in his eyes, ensuring he hears every word. “Nate… You fucked up, man,” I chide. “You pushed me… And if you do it again, you’ll find out just how far I can go, bitch. This is nothing…”

“I didn’t know, Rafe. Fuck—I didn’t know you were together,” he rambles as blood trickles out of the corner of his lips.

“You couldn’t feel it? Bullshit. I know you saw it. Stop fuckin’ lyin’ to me,” I hiss. “And you… What if Ally found out you were about to slip in my girl's DMs, huh?” I ask, my voice low and lethal. “What if your wife found out about that little Instagram model in Montreal? One word to her, and you’re done.”

Nate shakes his head ‘no’ fast, his bruised eyes pinched shut. “I’m not gonna say shit!” He huffs.

The second I untie him, he’s scrambling toward the door. A wicked smile twists on her lips as she looks back at me, hanging onto every word I said to him, the threats leaving my tongue nothing but foreplay to her. She turns on her heels, beckoning me with her dark gaze.

Y/n smiles at me, biting her lip as she looks down at the floor. My Boston College jersey lies in a pile of glass; the collectible frame knocked off the wall in the fight. She bends down, picking it up, giving it a few shakes before disappearing into my dark room.

I smile to myself, giving her a moment. I know what she’s gonna do. That’s my girl.

Walking toward my bedroom, I follow the trail of discarded clothes: her jacket, skirt, and that satin blouse I wanted to tear off, but this is so much better. I chuckle sleazily as I see her pretty red bra on the floor, my eyes lifting to my bed, seeing her sitting pretty on the edge of the bed, waiting for me.

Before I can even ask, she’s on her knees, crawling slowly toward me. My eyes roll back seeing her like this… Like a goddamn dream. I rip off the buttons of my shirt, tearing it off my shoulders as she kneels before me, pawing for my belt, tugging my pants around my ankles.

I wrap my fist around her hair, pulling after gaze away from my cock to my eyes. “C’mon, pretty… I remember what this mouth can do,” I mumble as my thumb brushes along her bottom lip.

She lays out her tongue, and I slap my tip against it, moaning at the contact. She wraps her lips around me, eyes fluttering shut like it’s all she needs. The vibrations of her pleasured sounds about sends me. I use the hold on her head to pull her into me, watching tears spring in the corners of her eyes again as my fat tip kisses the back of her throat.

Reader’s POV:

“Atta girl,” Rafe hums, his praise only fueling your frenzy. You bob up and down on his long cock as he guides your strokes. “You like that shit?” He breathes a sigh of relief as he watches you work his dick in your mouth.

“Suckin’ my dick with my name on your shoulders, princess… You know how many times I’ve thought about this? Fuckin’ dream girl,” he groans hazily between thrusts.

Rafe blows out a breath as you release his cock with a pop, causing him to let out a grunt for more, almost instantly eased by your fist, jerking him off. You can feel your wetness, trickling from your pussy, seeping down your inner thigh. "I can't wait to fuck you, princess."

You moan, feeling the weight of him on your tongue, Rafe’s precum swirling with your saliva, making your arousal pool in your panties. You lift his jersey slightly, giving him a glimpse of your round ass, a tiny number two embroidered on the back of your thong.

“Fuckkk,” he groans at the sight, tossing his head back; the salty taste of his precum intensifies as he cum in thick ropes, painting your throat. You wrap your hands around his body, nails scratching down his thigh, making his muscles clench.

Rafe’s cock throbs on your tongue, blood pumping in his shaft as you cup his balls in your hands, rolling slowly, not wanting him out of your mouth just yet.

“Co’mere,” he breathes as he helps you to your feet, pulling you to his lips. He kisses you deeply, walking back with you to his large bed, pushing you down before mounting you fast. “These panties… You fuckin’ kidding me,” he mutters against your lips as his thick fingers shove the satin aside, running up your soaked slit.

You start to rock with his thrusts as Rafe swallows your moans. He pulls away, pushing his fingers between his lips, sucking off your wetness, looking down at you underneath him.

“Hands and knees, princess,” he smiles.

Before you can comply, he grips your hips, flipping you over. You arch your back for him, and he grabs your ass, circling his hands before spanking you once, then twice.

He squeezes your curves, pulling you apart slightly, running his tongue from your clit to your entrance. You whimper as his fingers press against your aching pearl, tongue pushing into your soaked hole.

Rafe swirls his tongue and fingers with precision, eating you out from the back, moaning into your cunt as he laps up your arousal. His free hand tugs your panties to the side, using the hold to pull your warmth closer to his face, the man drowning in pussy.

”Rafe… Fuck. I’m close,” you whimper.

"Cum for me," he whispers between tongue flicks. You cum fast and hard, fluttering as your pleasure courses through your veins.

Before you can even come down from your high, he sinks into you, making you cry out, sliding into your sloppy core until his hips nudge your ass. He grabs your body, pushing his cock even further, making you bury your face in the comforter.

“Oh my god. Shittt,” he grunts as he circles his hips, his voice deep and dripping with sin. You lift your head as he pulls almost out, fucking back into your fast. “Tell me whose pussy this is, baby. Fuckin’ tell me…”

“Yours, baby,” you squeal, body shivering at the feeling of him buried to the hilt.

“That’s right…” He mumbles as he pushes the jersey up your back.

He rolls and snaps his hips into you, making the fat of your ass recoil with each thrust. He grabs your curves in his hands, spreading you wider, watching the way his thick dick gets swallowed up, wet, and sticky with your slickness.

He builds up to a punishing pace; the sounds of your wet skin slapping against each other fill his room. His fingers dig into your supple flesh as you start to meet him thrust for thrust, gasping as he hits that special spot, your heart rate frantic—your body desperate to cum around his big cock.

Rafe’s movements get a little rougher, his pace quickening. “Mpfhh… You’re gonna cum?” He groans, desperation clinging to his tone as he tries to hold back his pleasure. “Been thinkin’ about that feelin’ for six fuckin’ months,” he mumbles. “I know you are. Cum on my dick, princess… I need it—Fuck. I need it,” your eyes roll back in your head as your pleasure surges through you, crashing over you like a wave.

“Rafe, fuck-”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Rafe pants, answering your cries as he throws his hips. “I’m gonna fill up this tight cunt. I want you dripping out of me tomorrow.” He reaches for you, pulling you back to his chest, pressing his face against your cheeks. “You’ll always remember who owns this pussy.”

Rafe’s body tightens as he grabs your face, pressing his lips against yours. “You're mine,” he whispers against your mouth as his body shudders, filling you with his heavy load.

His tongue slips between your lips as he rocks his hip, smiling through panting breaths, pushing his cum deeper and deeper. Tears of pleasure and happiness roll down your cheeks as he keeps you standing, your legs feeling like they could give way at any second. Rafe chuckles darkly, letting out a satisfied sigh at his cockdrunk girl. “Say it, baby…”

“I’m yours.”

[alaia777]

HII OMG CONGRATS ON 200 <333 can u please do

⊹ what’s with that face? are you about to cry? with nagi, hurt with comfort at the end PLS AND THANK U MWAH

hellooo, thank you so muchhhh !!! :’))) i didn’t expect it to get this long, but here we are. i hope you like it!

you were tired. so, so tired. you had to wake up early today to finalize a report that was due for review, double-checking data and formatting everything according to the company’s painfully specific guidelines. on top of that, you somehow got stuck handling part of your coworker’s workload—again—because they conveniently “forgot” about a deadline. and as if that wasn’t enough, your boss wasn’t satisfied with the presentation slides you had prepared, requesting multiple revisions that kept you in the office two hours past your usual time.

the only thing that kept you going was the thought of finally going home to a clean house, taking a warm bath, and maybe later relaxing with your boyfriend. but unfortunately, that was not the plan, because the moment you opened the door, what greeted you was far from your dream.

the pillows and cushions from the couch were scattered across the floor, some even kicked aside carelessly. the kitchen island was covered in empty takeout containers, half-eaten snacks, and crumbs trailing onto the floor. a couple of soda cans sat tipped over, their contents dried into sticky patches on the counter. and the cherry on top? the sports equipment that nagi had left right in the middle of the room—the very thing you almost tripped over the second you stepped inside.

“ah, you’re back,” your boyfriend said lazily as he stepped out of your shared bathroom, console in hand. he didn’t even glance up, too absorbed in his game to notice the way you were frozen in place. “should we order some food?”

you took a deep breath, trying—and failing—not to let your frustration boil over. “nagi,” you started, voice tight, “why does the apartment look like this?”

“like what?”

you blinked at him, utterly baffled. “what do you mean like what? can’t you see this mess?” your voice rose with each word. “i already spend my whole day babysitting my coworker at work—do i really have to come home and do the same thing for you?”

the words tumbled out before you could stop them, sharp and exhausted, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take them back.

nagi barely spared you a glance, fingers still lazily tapping at his console. “jeez, dramatic much?” he muttered, shifting his weight onto the couch. “if you hate being here so much, you could’ve just stayed at work. seems like you like babysitting, anyway.”

he finally looked up then, an almost bored expression on his face. “not my fault you stress yourself out over everything,” he added, shrugging. “maybe if you stopped nagging for once, you wouldn’t be so tired.”

you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of nagi’s mouth. you stood frozen in place, your mind struggling to keep up with the shock of it all. your mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. you were too stunned to form a proper response, the sting of his words cutting deeper than you expected.

it hurt. it really hurt. you hated how much it stung, how his indifference felt like a slap in the face. this was such a stupid thing to cry over. you knew that, but the exhaustion from the day, the weight of your work, and the frustration of it all came crashing down in a way you couldn’t control.

but what really tipped you over the edge was what he said next.

“what’s with that face? are you about to cry?”

the way he said it—casual, almost mocking—sent a jolt through you. the tears you’d been holding back finally slipped free, and you turned away, taking a deep breath, quickly checking your pockets for your keys before heading straight for the door. you couldn’t stay in the same place as him for another second without doing something you’d regret—like throwing something at his head.

“what—where are you going?” you heard him call after you, his voice laced with confusion.

you didn’t look back, not until you reached the door. just before you closed it behind you, you caught a glimpse of his face. he looked different—almost apologetic. his eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape, as if the realization of what he’d just said was finally hitting him. for a brief moment, you saw the vulnerability in his expression, the way his shoulders slumped a little, but you couldn’t let it stop you.

without another word, you closed the door softly, leaving the apartment behind.

and so, you spent the next hour and a half in a diner just 15 minutes from your place, eating some sad meal that, on any other day, you would have enjoyed. but tonight, it felt hollow. sitting there alone, with nothing but your thoughts swirling around in your head, it wasn’t helping. the memory of what had just happened earlier lingered, refusing to fade away. your phone kept buzzing, notifications from nagi lighting up the screen. 50 messages.

you didn’t bother reading them. instead, you turned your phone off. were you being dramatic? maybe. but honestly, you didn’t care. he should be able to clean up after himself. he was an adult, after all. but then, there were those days when you were struggling, and he was there for you—cleaning up after you, trying to cook despite the disasters in the kitchen, doing his best to make you smile. you would do the same for him.

the thought hit you with a pang of guilt, but you pushed it away, breathing in deeply for the 100th time today. you finished your meal, paid for it, and decided to just go home. you needed a break, a well-deserved bath, and a little time to clear your head. tomorrow, you’d think about what you should do, what steps to take next. for now, all you wanted was peace.

you got home, expecting the usual mess that awaited you, but to your surprise, the apartment was spotless. everything was in its place—no clothes strewn across the floor, no half-empty cups or dishes left around. the countertops were clean, the pillows neatly arranged on the couch, and there, on the table, were the pastries you loved. it was almost like he’d read your mind, or at least, knew exactly how to soften the tension that had been brewing.

before you could even process what you were seeing, the sound of the bathroom door opening caught your attention. your boyfriend appeared in the doorway, cheeks flushed like he’d run a marathon, his usually demeanor suddenly nowhere to be found.

“where were you? why didn’t you answer your phone?” he asked, coming up to you with a concerned look. his voice was different—no teasing, no playfulness, just genuine worry. he reached out to take your hand, but you froze, your thoughts still racing.

“i didn’t think you’d actually leave,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, almost as if he regretted what had happened earlier. there was a hesitation in his eyes, a subtle shift in his usual nonchalance, and you could feel the weight of his uncertainty.

“listen—” you started, but he cut you off, his tone more serious than usual.

“no, please, let me speak first,” he said, sounding a bit more intense than his usual carefree self. he looked at you, his gaze uncharacteristically hesitant. “look, i’m sorry, alright? i didn’t mean to make you feel like i didn’t care. i shouldn’t have said that, and i know it was dumb. i get it now.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly not used to being the one who needed to apologize. “i don’t really—i mean, i don’t always think before i speak, but that doesn’t make it right. i know you’re not just tired from work, you were probably stressed out, and the last thing you needed was me being an idiot.”

nagi paused for a moment, his usual smugness replaced with a rare, honest vulnerability. “i’m not good with.. this kind of stuff, but i don’t want to make you feel like crap. i messed up.”

he stood there, still avoiding your gaze, but you could see the slight shift in his posture—almost like he was waiting for you to say something. it was clear now: he really was sorry.

you took a deep breath, letting the tension in your shoulders ease just a little. “nagi” you started, your voice softer now. “i know you’re sorry, and i get it. i’m not mad at you, i’m just really tired. all i want right now is a warm bath and to curl up with you. can we talk about this tomorrow when i’ve had some rest and a clearer head?”

you looked at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “i don’t want to hold onto this, i just need to recharge, okay?”

you could see the relief in his eyes, the guilt easing from his face. he nodded slowly, finally offering you a small, genuine smile. “yeah, of course,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “take your time.”

you let yourself fall into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you. for a moment, you just stood there, letting the warmth of his embrace melt away the tension. it wasn’t perfect, but it felt safe, and that was all you needed right now. you closed your eyes, taking in the quiet comfort, and for the first time today, you felt a little lighter. everything else could wait until tomorrow. for now, it was just the two of you, and that was enough.

[knifeforkspooncup]

Please click for better resolution!

I made this silly little art, and then like a being possessed, wrote 1200 words of pure unadulterated hogwash to go with it (ficlet below the cut)

Duck Duck Goose

Rating: Teen and up

"Shouldn't be feeding them bread." Crowley said, trying and failing to ward off an irate goose with the pointed toe of his boot. "It’s brioche." Aziraphale chided, as if that explained anything. A nattering crowd of ducks was forming at his feet like eager disciples. Crowley didn't ask where he'd gotten the brioche. He'd stuck his chilly hands into Aziraphale's pockets enough times now to know the list of things the angel kept on his person at any given moment was - well, impressive was one word for it. In the way a magpie's hoard of oddities was impressive. A brioche was quite pedestrian, really. "Brioche then.” The goose had moved on to striking repeatedly for his ankles, more pit viper than waterfowl. “Shouldn’t. Feed them. Brioche,” he gritted between defensive maneuvers. He never had gotten the hang of sword fighting. If Aziraphale heard, he pretended not to, ripping off hunks of bread at least double the esophagus diameter of the average mallard duck. One at a time, he tossed them lazily into the fray. The ducks erupted into chattering, nipping each other’s feathers. A shark frenzy had more natural order to it.

The goose took no interest, bloodlust overriding any desire for fine French baked goods. If anything, it doubled its effort to latch onto Crowley’s shin. Had geese always had teeth?

Aziraphale beamed at the chaos, halogen bright. Humming with self satisfaction, he brushed his hands of crumbs, and settled back against the bench. Crowley diverted a sliver of bodily coordination to snake one arm behind him, weaseling into the warm gap left by the angel’s impeccable posture.

This was a thing they did now, apparently. Not watching ducks squabble over bread – that part was old hat. But Aziraphale tucking himself neatly against Crowley's side? For all the world to see. Like he was one of Crowley's wings simply stowing away. Frankly, that hat still had the tag on it. Still had that new hat smell.

This was rapidly becoming their new normal. Embroidery on the familiar weave of their time together. They still did all the things they always had. They still went to the Ritz, where the waiter still assumed Aziraphale was paying for the bill. Crowley still pulled out the angel’s seat like a proper gentledemon.

None of that had changed.

Just now they also held hands on the table between courses, and Aziraphale fed Crowley bites of dessert straight from his spoon. Sometimes they even did exciting things with their feet under the table.

Aziraphale called it canoodling. Crowley was pretty sure that was a fussy type of dog. The kind that wore bows on its head and left the groomer looking like an ornamental hedge.

Whatever it was, it was nice. More than nice.

Take today for example. The clouds were parting, birds singing – the whole production; the sun sparkled just so, really putting the ol’ razzle dazzle on it all.

There went Aziraphale, tipping his head back against Crowley’s shoulder, eyes closing. Lashes sun-gilt and fanning on his rosy cheeks. Straight out of a renaissance painting. A nice, expensive renaissance painting, on with real lapis lazuli pigment for the eyes. The angel really knew when to lay it on thick.

“Oh, that’s quite nice, isn’t it.” Aziraphale sighed, basking in the warmth.

See, nice? It was nice. Five hundred years of coming here, and this moment was the most nice it had ever been. Crowley remembered when this place was a marshy field full of roving geese and snuffling pigs. When the trees that made this nice bench were just scrawny little saplings, runty and wind bitten. Had the bench gotten smaller? It used to feel immense, and not in the luxury Cadillac sense of the word. Used to fit Heaven and Hell between them with room to spare. Back when nice was a four letter –

The goose sunk it’s – definitely toothed – beak into Crowley’s shin, just above the boot.

Satisfied with its grip, it started to flail, giving the impression Crowley was a chewtoy it meant to thrash to death. The small part of Crowley’s brain reserved for humility was starting to believe it would succeed.

"Dinner? How would you feel about a nice, tasty Christmas goose?” Grunted Crowley, shaking his leg and raising his free hand, demonic miracle at the ready. He had just the goose in mind. “With all the trimmings. Could even do some plum sauce on the side if you like,"

Aziraphale frowned, eyes still closed. “…it’s October.”

“That a no, then? Don’t want to get a head start on the festivities?”

Aziraphale looked up just as Crowley managed to dislodge the fowl beast and punt it away like a feathery football. It came right back, tongue stuck out like a rude child and wheezing angrily.

He tsked, mouth thinning. “You’re terrible. Leave the poor thing alone.”

Crowley sputtered. “Wha – ha – me?! I’m not the one biting a boot like a lunatic!” Would that work? Biting it? Maybe the goose would bugger off if Crowley bit it back. Should he bite it back? He should probably bite it, shouldn’t he. Oh, Satan, he was going to get feathers stuck in his teeth.

The infernal creature hissed, undoubtedly reading his mind. Crowley hissed back, tongue forking menacingly if only for the sake of his own ego.

Aziraphale was staring at him and smiling. Well, smirking. Fondly. The corners of his mouth pinching his cheeks, eyes crinkling under a raised eyebrow. He even had a dimple forming on his chin. Ridiculous. Something in the inner workings of Crowley’s chest did its best impression of a snare drum.

“Shall we, my dear?” Said the Very Ridiculous Angel, stirring from Crowley’s side. He stood and straightened his jumper until there were no more wrinkles. Seeing Crowley still engaged in boot-to-beak combat with the feathery fiend, he added tartly: “Before someone gets killed.”

Crowley grumbled something about demonic wrath and taking bets, but slunk to his feet. He flicked his glasses down and shot a final, venomous glare at the goose before sidling up to Aziraphale and offering his arm.

Aziraphale took it, wedging warm hands into the crook of Crowley’s elbow. He made it look habitual, easy as. Just the natural thing to do. Right as rain.

He was faster than Crowley, at this part. At the settling in. He’d taken to it all like geese to psychological warfare.

“You mentioned dinner?” Said Aziraphale brightly, ducks parting obediently at their feet.

“Your turn to pick.” Crowley’s skin was sizzling, water on a hot frying pan.

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, face thoughtful. He took dinner plans very seriously.

“How about Peking duck? From that lovely place just around the corner, the one with the comfortable chairs.”

Crowley gave him a sharp look, nearly spraining an eyebrow in the process.

The angel was looking resolutely ahead, expression perfectly blank save for the way his mouth twitched at the corners.

I love you, blurted Crowley’s brain.

“Every restaurant has comfortable chairs,” blurted his mouth. It was a fact. Every restaurant did have comfortable chairs. Or else. So far Crowley hadn’t met a chair that cared to find out about the or else – chairs not being very curious by nature.

Crowley would say all the other things later, of course. All the sappy, corny, sweet-nothing things. When they were home. When he could wash the burn down with something whispered and sinfully filthy. Something that would make Aziraphale turn pinker than a summer peach.

Aziraphale was watching him, gaze unspeakably soft. “I know, my dear,” he said.

“I know.”

[finelinevogue]

Hi!! I would love a blurb for Azriel (ACOTAR) with 3 & 17 please ❤️ thank you!!!

hi!! of course🌟💖 az has such a soft place in my heart so i’m super excited to write more for him<3

am i allowed to miss you?

summary - azriel comes back from a mission and you’re not sure whether you’re allowed to miss him or not

pairing - azriel x new-mate!reader

✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐✨🪻🪐

Elain bursts through the library doors, looking for you.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, sitting up and closing your book to show attention to her.

“Azriel’s back.” She breathed out, pausing a moment to watch you digest the news before leaving you alone again.

Elain left the door open, allowing you to hear the commotion in the hallway of all your friends greeting Azriel a warm welcome home.

It took you just a moment, but you started to feel his presence beside you. You allowed that warm feeling within-side you to fester and grow, feeling an overwhelming amount of love and safety all at once.

It was the bond.

The new bond.

You and Azriel were only a few weeks mated, after only having courted for a few weeks before that. You couldn’t help but mate each other because of how strong your feelings were to one another. It just made sense.

However, a few days ago Azriel had to leave to go on a mission even though both of you were still reeling in the honeymoon phase of your newly mated lives.

Standing up, you brushed some crumbs off your dress skirt and breathed out shakily.

You were so nervous.

The pace at which you’d been with Az had been so fast that you were still a little unsure how you were supposed to feel. It wasn’t a conventional relationship, per say, but that didn’t mean what you felt for each other was any less real. You knew that. However, you worried.

Walking out of the library you rounded the corner to see everyone crowding Azriel.

Rhys ruffled his hair and Cassian was finishing squeezing him tight as if he’d been gone for 30 years not 30 hours.

You watched with a smile on your face.

Azriel hates being fussed over like he currently is being, so it’s a little funny to watch. He’s too polite to tell them to leave, or maybe a secret part of him actually likes it. Either way, you stand back and allow him to be fussed over.

“Anything to report back?” Rhys asked.

“Rhys, you sent me on a scouting mission to count how many cattle Beron has. Except from the number ‘73’, no. Nothing to report.” Azriel said in the most sarcastic way.

Feyre laughed at this, teasing Rhys over something so silly.

“Counting cattle? Whatever for?” Amren asked.

“I have my reasons.” Rhys blushed, seemingly embarrassed but everyone knew there must be a good reason behind it all. Rhys was respected enough by everyone not for anyone to question anything.

“Was one of those reasons keeping me from my mate?” Azriel asked.

It was then that you’d realised that you’d clearly missed something and Azriel appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His kissed the top of your head and held you close for a moment.

“More like to give us a break from you being with your mate.” Cassian grumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Azriel questioned for you both.

“Umm…” Cassian blushed.

“What Cassian is trying to insinuate is that the walls are old and so the walls are thin. We can hear… everything.” Nesta suggested for her mate.

You muttered a curse to the Gods under your breath, turning beet red at Nesta’s comment.

Everyone else chuckled.

Azriel must have known that you were feeling embarrassed because the next thing you knew you were being swept up in his arms, being carried like a bride.

“Right. Y/N and I are leaving. You can count your own cattle from now on Rhysand. And as for you, Lord od Bloodshed, would you like me to tell everyone about the time I caught you in Nesta’s lingerie and not for a devious reason?”

“You little…” Cassian started to move forward but Azriel had disappeared, along with you, before he could get anywhere close.

You both appeared in his room, out of the shadows.

Azriel put you down on the bed, following you down so he was leaning over you.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Azriel said, kissing you deeply.

You followed his kisses, taking his lead and kissing as much as Azriel was giving. It was soft but at the same time urgent. Your fingers cupped his cheeks, attempting to keep him placed against you forever.

“Welcome home.” You said softly, kissing him once more.

Next thing you know he’s kissing your forehead, nose, chin and cheek. He kept going, moving down across your jaw and onto your neck.

“Did you miss me?” He asked, finding the spot on your neck that you loved him kissing and keeping there.

You didn’t respond to his question, pushing it off as distraction and not listening.

“Y/N?” He left the spot on your neck, moving his eyes until they caught your distanced ones. “Hey. Don’t get shy on me.”

“I’m not.”

“You seem… distracted.”

You watched his eyes assess your face for a long moment. His eyes swirled with a flurry of emotions and you could feel his concern within your own chest. You imagined that he could feel your anxiety in his.

“Am I…” You started then stopped.

Azriel didn’t push you or try and finish the question for you, instead he pushed himself off you and sat on the bed. He carefully took your hand and pulled you up too, not satisfied until he swung you across his lap and held you close.

One of Az’s hands intertwined with yours and you sat like this for a moment more. Enjoying being next to each other. Enjoying the overwhelming emotions settle down as your bond recognised your closeness.

“Am I allowed to miss you?” You asked, remaining looking at his hand rather than him.

“You… Why… Of course you can miss me, my love.” He kissed your forehead. “Why would you think not? Was it Cassian? I swear to….”

“No!” You exclaimed, looking at him then, “It wasn’t Cassian, no.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s just. Everything between us has happened so fast. I went from liking you, to loving you, to mating you all into the space of a month. I don’t feel like time exists and yet… I also feel like I don’t have the right to miss you so much that my heart physically aches after so little time.”

Azriel brings your tied hands up to his chest, leaving your hand to feel his heart beating.

“My heart physically ached too.” He gives you a soft smile.

“I did. I really did miss you.”

“I know. I know, because I felt the same way.” He gave you one loving kiss, “I don’t think it’s silly to worry over how quickly everything has shifted between us, and I do think that we feel right. I think we’re good. And we love each other enough to miss each other. So never worry about how you’re feeling, or if you’re feeling too much too soon - chances are I’m feeling it too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Welcome home, Az.” You give him another kiss.

“Now let’s give Cassian something to groan about.” Azriel says before flipping you back on the bed.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Keep Talkin’

satoru/fem!reader, NSFW, MDNI, this was typed on my phone so sorry, no proofreading 😔

Satoru and you had a pretty wholesome relationship with all things considered. He was your best friend. You two laughed together, watched reality tv shows together, and even played video games together when he had the time.

There wasn’t any problems per say… but there was one hiccup.

He hadn’t touched you like at all. You didn’t want to pressure him into anything, of course. You loved taking things slow at first. There was nothing quite like getting giddy over holding hands.

It’s been nearly a fucking year now. You were practically gnawing at the chance for him to just fucking make a move. The most you two had done was some very passionate kissing where both of you had moaned and whined just a bit.

It felt like you two were horny, pathetic teenagers, but dammit. you two were in your late-twenties. this shit was embarrassing.

Still, you didn’t pressure him. You never tried to initiate it either, so maybe this was partially your fault as well. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move.

Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you were all on discord together late one night. It was a rarity for all four of you to not be busy at the same time.

Everyone was in their respective houses, and you all were all drinking while playing Dress to Impress.

“That bitch’s fit is fucking ugly.” Satoru groaned as he had placed third on the podium.

“Satoru, they’re probably like eight years old. Calm down.” Suguru laughed.

“You’re saying I lost to an eight year old bitch?”

“Stop calling eight year olds bitches.”

“You’re right. You’re the bitch.” Satoru switched tactics.

“Jesus Christ, y/n. You need to give this man a crumb of coochie so he can fuckin’ relax.” Shoko laughed over the call.

You felt your heart start to race as you could tell everyone was waiting on you to respond. You stifled an awkward laugh. “He could get it if he wanted it.”

“Oh-“ The call went silent besides some snickering from Shoko.

“Yeah? I could get it, hm?” Satoru finally spoke up, instigating the situation further.

“You could if you were man enough to make a move.” You reply, feeling the liquid courage take effect.

“You’ve been waiting on me to make the first move, sweets? Here I thought I was being a gentleman. You don’t want that though, do you?”

“Gentlemen don’t keep their women waitin’ so long.”

The sound of someone leaving the discord call took your attention. Geto had swiftly left the call. Shoko left right after him.

“You and that fuckin’ mouth of yours.” He teased before he chuckled quietly. You could hear the gurgle of him taking a few more drinks.

“You should be fuckin’ my mouth, thank you.” You retort.

“Yeah? That’s what you want, hm? Want me to fill your throat? I’d make sure you couldn’t breathe unless I allowed it.”

His words went straight between your legs, making you whimper out quietly as you crossed your legs tightly as if you were trying to hold in your arousal.

“Answer me, baby.” He cooed. His breathing was becoming more noticeable from the microphone, and you could’ve swore that you heard the jingle of his belt being undone.

“Yeah… yeah, I want that.” You murmur into the microphone sat upon your desk.

“I bet you do, fuckin’ slut. Talkin’ to me like that in front of my friends… You just needed my attention that badly, huh?”

“Toru..” You whine. He’s never talked to you like this before. Your hand can’t help but gently rub between your thighs on the outside of your shorts.

“Such a needy lil thing. How long have you been wanting this, baby?” He rasps over the call. You can hear soft repetitive movements in the background. It doesn’t take a genius to understand what he’s doing.

“Too long.” You mumble pathetically into the mic.

“My poor needy girl.” He hums as you hear the rhythm speed up. “… just needing me to come and fill you up, yeah?”

“Yes, please.” Your hands slide down into your shorts and panties, and you gently rub circles into the small bundle of nerves. A small, shaky moan escaped your mouth before you could even think to stop it.

“Oh? Is my girl over there touchin’ herself to the thought of it?”

“Mhm..”

“You’re so fucking cute like this, baby. C’mon let me hear you.” He encourages as he lets out a strangled moan of his own. His hand is stroking up and down his hard, thick length. He gently uses his thumb to spread a bead of pre-cum around his reddened tip.

“Satoru…” You moan his name as your fingers keep working your clit. You feel yourself dampening your panties with slick. Your body wants his cock as badly as you do.

“Keep talkin’, darling. Please, don’.. ah.. don’t stop.”

“Come over please. Mmph- please, I want you to make me.. me come..”

“Yeah? How would I make you cum?”

“By fucking me deeply..” You say as you finally indulge yourself. You slip one digit into your entrance. Your eyes are closed as you try to imagine it’s his hand prepping you for him.

“Oh, fuck… yeah, I wouldn’t stop either… You’d become my little free use fuck toy. I wouldn’t let you do anything without my cock stuffed inside you.”

“Mmnnn~”

“My pretty girl likes that, huh? She wants me to use her whenever I want?”

“Yes, yes please-!” You cry out as you slip another finger into your sopping wet entrance. You start to move your fingers in and out, making a soft gushing noise with each thrust.

“Fuck baby, is that you? Are you that wet for me?” Satour asks as he’s practically fucking his fist. The wet sounds of your asmr are completely pushing him towards the edge.

“Yes, please.” You’re such a stupid mess, sounding like a broken record to him. “please, please, please.. I need you, Toru.”

Satoru doesn’t respond but you hear his office chair rattling as he’s bucking his hips harshly into his hand. Small grunts and groans fall from his lips. He’s so fucking close he can feel his balls tightening. “Keep talkin’ for me, princess. I’m so close.”

“Fuck Toru, ah~ I can’t… I can’t take much more. It’s too much. Mmnnnff..”

“You’ll fucking take it.” He growls as he feels his orgasm rip through his body. Despite how dominant he was while talking, he’s a whimpering mess while he comes all over his chest. Ropes of white cum shoot all over his chest, and some even dribble onto his desk.

The sound alone was enough to bring you over the edge as you feel your hole clench around your fingers, mimicking as if it was milking a cock. Your legs tremble as your back rises off of the chair. You hadn’t felt an orgasm like that in so long.

The call is silent for a moment. Only both of your panting can be heard.

“Toru..?” You finally manage to squeak out after a moment.

“I’m comin’, baby. Don’t worry.” He assures as he’s wiping cum off of his chest and desk. “I’ll come take care of you.”

Yes, it almost took Satoru a year to touch you, but now that he had gotten a taste, he wasn’t able to keep his hands off you.

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part three ]

[ part one & part two ]

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1765

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

he was so obviously staring at you.

it was a crisp fall morning, and a light sweat formed on your brow as you swept the floor by the front desk. you’d been at it for a while, and about halfway through, stan had meandered down the stairs and happened to see you. presently, he was casually leaning against the wall, and you could feel his eyes on your back.

there were moments where you’d turn your head in his direction, and he would jolt and quickly look the other way. you rolled your eyes amusedly, wondering what he could be thinking of.

after a moment of thought, you spoke up, your gaze still focused on the broom in your hands. “so, whatcha doin’, stan?”

there was nobody else in the lobby, so he didn’t really have a good excuse to pull out of his back pocket. he looked up, drumming his fingers against the wall. “uhhh … nothin’. what’s it to ya?”

“you know, you can come closer if you want to.” you shook your head, chuckling. the broad-built man sighed in defeat, pushing himself off of the wall and walking over to lean against the front desk instead.

as you continued to sweep, he pursed his lips, fidgeting with the edge of his t-shirt. “hey, uh. i been thinkin’.”

you gave him a glance over your shoulder. “yeah?”

one of his hands wandered up to his shaggy mullet, tugging absentmindedly at chocolate brown hairs. “well, i’ve been stayin’ with you for a few days now … and i really appreciate your help. i … i’m still tryin’ ta think of ways to make a buck, but … a–anyway, what’s i’m saying is—”

he stammered, blushing faintly as he averted his gaze. it was frustratingly difficult to be so open and honest.

“ … is–is there any way i could help you out? since i’m not payin’ at all …”

you straightened, turning to fully face him. his desire to settle his debt was endearing, but you knew in your heart that he really didn’t owe you anything. you wanted him to have someone to watch out for him, someone to care about him.

someone to … love him.

“i really appreciate it, but it’s okay.” you grinned, warm with compassion.

stan blinked, and he suddenly found that his heart was aching in his chest again. just as it had at the diner, as it had when he took that key from your hand …

his square jaw clenched shut as your genuine empathy pierced into him like daggers.

“please.”

he almost sounded desperate.

“i, uh. i just don’t like ta feel useless.”

after studying his expression for a moment, your smile softened.

“okay.” swiftly, you extended the broom towards him, raising your brows. “wanna finish sweeping in the lobby? i can start on the dusting.”

immediately, he lit up. “alright, angel. i’ll sweep this place so good, you’d never guess that anyone’s set foot in it.”

taking hold of the broomstick, the brunet got to work, happily gathering dust bunnies, crumbs, and random bits of trash that various customers had left behind. you rummaged around in the supply closet for the duster, pulling it out and starting to clean up different decorative objects and shelftops.

the soft music emanating from the record player served to create a peaceful atmosphere. occasionally, one or two patrons would pass through, but for the most part, it was quiet.

after you’d taken care of all the dusty surfaces in the room, you put the duster away, lighting a pumpkin spice scented candle and carefully placing it on a table in the center of the lobby.

“hmm ... wow, that’s nice.” stan hummed, clearly affected by the calming aroma.

“i know, right? i love having this scent in the fall–”

you stopped abruptly upon seeing the perfectly clean floors. it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, and yet all of it was spotless.

“wow, stan, you made quick work of that! good job!”

stanley puffed out his chest, clearly smug and quite proud of himself, like a small child showing you a drawing they had worked hard on. “i told you. ain’t i helpful?”

“you’re a huge help, thank you.”

he hadn’t been praised like this in so long. he was practically glowing at this point.

“so, er … what else can i help ya with?” he stepped closer to you, hands on his hips.

you racked your brain in an attempt to think of what else needed to get done around the inn. “oh, i know. a shipment arrived for us earlier today, but they’re both heavy boxes that i can’t quite move on my own. would you w–”

“I’M ON IT! lead the way, sweetheart!”

“o–okay–” you led him around to the back to collect the packages, trying so hard not to let his pet names affect you. nonetheless, you were blushing like an idiot.

next thing you knew, you were watching him carry two heavy boxes with ease, one on each arm. he had rolled up his jacket sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms.

… it’s fall, right? it’s not supposed to be this hot in here.

“where to, toots?” he grunted, arching a brow.

“uh … the storage room. this way.” you were avoiding eye contact as much as possible. everything about this guy was attractive right now.

oh God, don’t let me die yet…

after the contents of the boxes were successfully unloaded and put away, the two of you sat at the kitchen bar, helping yourselves to the lunch that your chef had made. stan ate enthusiastically, probably in the best mood that you’d ever seen him in. why that was, exactly, you weren’t sure—you were too overwhelmed to figure it out. there was just something about the way he looked at you that was making you silently freak out.

i know that he’s been calling me names even since we first met. it seems like it’s just a thing that he does with everyone … but lately, they really don’t feel like just names.

i don’t know. am i going crazy? i might be. and yet …

chewing on a mouthful of rice, you snuck a sideways peek at the man beside you, admiring his chiseled jaw and dark brown hair. that is, until he caught you looking, and you nearly choked on your food.

“what? ‘s there somethin’ on my face?” he chuckled, his tone taunting.

“i, uh, i thought there might’ve been–but you’re fine. no worries.” bullcrap.

“hah, whatever you say.”

you continued to eat in silence. your fork was slipping in your hand.

just great. my palms are sweating.

this … hasn’t happened to you since high school. butterflies and blushing suddenly clouded your brain whenever he was close to you. how did it even start? he just walked into your life, and …

you were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t process stan calling your name for the third time in a row. it wasn’t until he put his hand on your shoulder that you snapped out of it.

“gh– huh?” your face was redder than a cherry tomato.

“hey, you alright? yer actin’ all spacey.” he was evidently concerned this time. “how many fingers am i holdin’ up?”

“f–four.” you exhaled, rubbing your temples with one hand. “i’m fine, just lost in thought, is all. thanks, stan.” you offered a small smile as you fought the raging butterflies in your stomach.

stan nodded in understanding, gently taking his hand off your shoulder.

“okay, just lemme know if you need anything.”

with that, he took care of his plate, rinsing it off in the sink before making his way up to his room. your chef walked into the kitchen, shooting you a look as you handed him your half-full plate.

“sorry, i don’t think i can eat any more. i’m feeling … nauseous.”

it was around six o’clock in the evening now, and you sat up in your personal living room on the very top floor of the inn, falling deeper and deeper into your thoughts.

do i … really like him that much?

am i in love?

you tangled your fingers into your hair, hunching over slightly.

but … so quickly? i’ve only known him for a number of days. is that a thing that happens!?

what if he doesn’t like me back? what if he flirts with everyone? what if he thinks i’m weird for liking him? does he know i like him?

just then, you heard a knocking on your door.

oh.

heart thudding violently in your chest, you swallowed your anxiety, standing up from your sofa to find out who it could be. you turned the doorknob, letting it swing open.

the first thing you saw was a beautiful bouquet of red tulips.

your gaze trailed up to find stanley’s broad figure, dressed in slacks and a flattering button-up top. he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail, although a few stray hairs remained out of place.

his brown eyes met your own, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“hey. listen, uh … these are for you, first of all.” he handed the bouquet to you, which you mindlessly accepted, being unable to look away from his face.

“i … wanted t’ properly say thank you. lettin’ me stay here has helped me get my mind right ‘nd allowed me to think about the important things.”

he took a breath.

“and, well … i figured out that you’re real important to me. so. i–i was wonderin’ if you’d wanna grab dinner tonight?”

“… dinner?”

“y–yeah, like a date–”

your cheeks flushed a dark shade of red, matching the tulips you held in your arms.

stan tripped over his words, staring at the floor. “and i, uh—i understand if you’re not interested–”

“no! i mean, yes! yes, i’m–i’m very interested.” you rushed to answer him, not fully realizing that a gleeful smile had broken out onto your expression. “i just … wow …”

he laughed, beaming with joy as he realized that the answer was yes. “oh, damn, i didn’t actually expect to get this far…!” gently, he scooped you into a snug embrace, lifting you off of your feet slightly. “thank you, angel.”

“... anything for you.” you murmured in reply, hugging him back for a sweet moment before the two of you stepped apart. “let me just get ready, then.”

“sounds good, doll. i’ll be waitin’ downstairs.”

and just like that, the door was shut, and you were left to stare at the red tulips in your hands.

end

[ part four ]

author's note:

screaming into a pillow kicking my feet giggling

i wrote this one so fast somehow ??? i had a vision

if you wanna be added to the tag list for updates, lmk!

tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002 @samanthastarss @bumblingbriars @arya-eats-chips @bihexualandferal @hello-i-like-owls @blurryface505 @ryethebrokengae

[tteotlma]

Sugar and Skin

3. Subtle Connections || Previous - Next

a quiet morning shifts as an unexpected request and a teasing confession leaves you with more questions than answers.

TattooArtist!Bucky x Baker!Reader (1.5wc)

tw: 18+ MDNI; mild language, subtle tension, implied attraction, slow-burn, strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of smoking, implied deception a/n: this is definitely a filler chapter rn but i think im finally getting the ball moving! as always im open to suggestions and ideas

Your fingers worked methodically across the counter, muscle memory guiding the rag over scattered crumbs and coffee rings. The morning rush had left its usual aftermath of scattered napkins, and spent sugar packets littered across table tops. You could feel the tension slowly unknotting from your shoulders as the cafe settled into its familiar mid-morning quiet. 

Then you saw him. 

First it was his shadow, moving across the sunlit rectangles on your checkered floor. Then leather—dark and worn in all the right places—as Bucky passed by the store windows. His head was ducked slightly, hands buried deep in his pockets. The cherry of a cigarette glowed between his lips as he exhaled, smoke curling around his profile in the morning light. You watched, hand frozen mid-wipe, as he paused just past the window, taking in another long drag that hollowed his cheeks. 

Your breath caught when he turned toward the door, and casually flicked the butt in the outdoor ashtray. 

You turned so quickly your elbow caught the edge of the counter, sending a sharp sting through your arm as you collided directly into Sam’s chest. The to-go cup in his hand tilted dangerously, lid threatening to pop off. 

“Woah, earth the Y/N!” His free hand steadied your shoulder, coffee miraculously staying contained.

“O-oh, sorry, I–” The bell above the door cut you off, its gentle chime making you lose your train of thought. You felt Sam’s grip on your shoulder tighten slightly before letting go. 

“Oh,” was all he said, but you saw the way his jaw clicked shut, the subtle shift in his stance too obvious to ignore. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything though, keeping your eyes fixed on the counter as the scent of lingering smoke drifted through the space behind you. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention. 

"Morning." Bucky's voice was rough, still carrying traces of smoke, and you forced yourself to turn around. The movement made your arm throb where you'd hit it, a dull reminder of your graceless panic moments ago.

He stood closer than you expected, enough that you had to tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze. The scent of smoke clung to his leather jacket, mixing with something else—maybe sandalwood, or pine—that made your head swim slightly. Your eyes caught on a small tattoo peeking out from the collar of his shirt, dark lines disappearing beneath the fabric in a way that made your throat go dry.

Before you could speak Sam’s voice broke the tension, startling you slightly. “Morning. Picking up for Steve?”

Bucky’s gaze flicked toward him, then landed back on you briefly before he gave a curt nod. “Yeah.”

You both watched as Sam turned away, leaving the two of you alone.

You swallowed, quickly turning back to the counter and reaching for the small box already prepared with Steve’s name on it. Your fingers felt clumsier than usual, the weight of Bucky’s presence pulling at your senses.

Sliding the box across the counter, you noticed his eyes had shifted to the little display atop it—a small chalkboard perched against a tiny stand, the handwriting on it a messy scrawl. His brow furrowed slightly as he tilted his head, clearly trying to make sense of the text.

“Oh,” you blurted, breaking the silence. “Um, Peter likes to do the boards.” Your voice carried a nervous edge, words tumbling out faster than intended, and you hoped he couldn't tell. “They’re not always the most… legible, but he’s...passionate about it.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, one brow raising slightly. You shifted, brushing your hands against your hips as you continued, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “He’s actually gotten better, though. Since he started doing it every day.”

“Every day?” His voice was low, curious, and it took you a moment to realize he was responding.

You blinked, nodding quickly. “Hm? Oh, yeah.” You gestured vaguely toward the case, your hand brushing against the edge of the counter. “I try to make a different pastry every day.” 

His gaze followed your gesture to the display case, where today's pastries sat under the soft morning light. Something in his expression shifted, but before you could place it, the sound of the kitchen door swinging open made you both straighten slightly.

"That's... ambitious," he said after a moment, his voice quieter than before. The word hung between you, carrying a weight that made your fingers twist in the fabric of your apron.

For a beat, neither of you moved. Then, he nodded toward the case. "Think Steve would want one of those?"

Your brows knit together briefly. "He hasn't mentioned it, but... maybe."

Bucky's lips twitched, the smallest hint of a grin. "Add it to his order. Just in case."

You hesitated, something about the request stirring your curiosity, but you nodded and moved to grab one. As you placed the pastry in a small bag, you could feel his eyes on you, the air thick with something unspoken.

He pulled out his wallet, but you shook your head quickly. "Steve's good for it." The words came out softer than intended.

His eyes met yours for a brief moment before dropping to where your hands were carefully folding the top of the bag. He nodded, a short, quick movement, the morning light catching the sharp line of his jaw.

"Thanks." He gathered both bags, his fingers brushing against the counter where yours had been moments before. You watched as he turned to leave, the bell above the door chiming softly as he disappeared into the morning light.

Sam's presence materialized beside you, his arms crossed. "Since when does Steve get extras?"

You kept your eyes on the window, where Bucky's shadow was already fading from view. "Maybe he's branching out."

The look Sam gave you said he wasn't buying it, but you busied yourself with straightening the display case, pretending not to notice. The lingering scent of smoke and sandalwood (or was it pine?) drifted away as the morning lull continued on.

—

Later that day, as the sun dipped low and cast long shadows across the café, you wiped down the last of the tables. The bell above the door jingled, pulling your attention from your work. Without glancing up, you called out, "We're actually closed."

"Even for me?" Steve's familiar voice carried warmth, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Especially for you," you teased, finally looking up and gesturing to him in. "What brings you by?"

Steve strode in with a relaxed air, his eyes sweeping the quiet, dim space. "Just wanted to see how everything's going. Looks like you've been keeping the place in top shape."

"Thanks," you said, moving back behind the counter. "Just finishing up for the day."

He leaned casually against the counter, watching you as you straightened the last few items. "Actually, I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in catering an event. We're putting something together to celebrate the store finally coming together. And I thought you guys would be a perfect addition, considering our friendship and whatnot."

"Friendship? I thought this was strictly a transactional thing," you said, your tone laced with feigned indifference.

He put his hand to his chest, and collapsed dramatically against the display, "You wound me."

"I'm obviously kidding," You swiped him with the dry towel in your hand. Your heart lifted at his suggestion right away, a spark of excitement igniting. "I'd obviously love to help. That sounds great!"

Steve lifeted his head off the glass and his smile widened. "Perfect. I'll send you the details soon."

You nodded, a thought suddenly surfacing. "You know, that's actually perfect timing, considering Bucky brought you a different pastry today."

Steve's brow furrowed slightly. "What pastry?"

"The croissant," you said, watching him carefully. "You know, the one Bucky brought you this morning."

Steve's expression flickered with a hint of confusion before he quickly covered it up. "Oh, right. The hazelnut one."

You tilted your head slightly, a small smile playing at your lips. "What? Raspberry."

"Riiiight, raspberry. That's what I said." He gave a quick nod, brushing it off. "Slip of the tongue." He shrugged, waving his hand in the air.

The evening light caught a gleam in his eye, and you felt a sudden warmth creep up your neck. You narrowed your gaze at the blonde in front of you.

"Well," Steve pushed off from the counter, that insufferable grin still plastered on his face. "I should get going. I'll text you about the event."

You nodded, eyes not leaving his face. "Yeah, sounds good." You turned your attention towards the register, grabbing the rolls of coins.

Steve paused at the door, his hand resting on the handle. He turned back, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Actually, now that I think about it," he began, his voice laced with amusement, "I don't think I did get an extra pastry today."

You blinked, the weight of his words not quite hitting. "Sorry?"

He gave a light snicker, shaking his head. "Never mind. Gotta go." With a quick salute, he slipped out the door, leaving the bell to jingle softly in his wake.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the door as it swung shut behind him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you replayed the morning’s events, the lingering looks, the quiet pauses, and now this—this small, unspoken something Steve seemed to know about but wasn’t saying.

With a soft exhale, you shook your head and returned to your work, though the warmth lingering in your chest wasn’t so easy to brush away.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorway as the last rays of sunlight stretched across your checkered floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recalled the way Bucky's broad shadow danced across the tiles.

The thought made something flutter in your chest, but you pushed it away quickly, turning back to your closing duties with renewed focus. Still, as you moved through the quiet café, you couldn't quite fight the small smile that kept trying to surface.

The windows had turned to mirrors in the fading light, reflecting your movement as you went through the familiar motions of shutting down for the night. The hum of the fridge filled the silence, joined by the soft clink of mugs being stacked and the faint rustle of the pastry bag you tied up for tomorrow’s batch.

But your mind wandered, unbidden, back to Steve’s words—and more so, to the subtle curve of Bucky’s lips when he’d asked about the pastry. You tried to convince yourself it was nothing, just a friendly gesture. Still, the memory clung stubbornly, threading through the quiet like the scent of coffee and sugar that still lingered in the air.

As you wiped down the last of the tables, your gaze flickered toward the display case one last time, catching the faint reflection of yourself in the glass. The café felt too still, too calm, and your mind too loud. You sighed softly, shaking your head as if to dislodge the thought, and flipped the switch, plunging the room into a soft shadow.

Stepping toward the door, you turned the lock with a satisfying click. The bell didn’t jingle this time, its usual cheer subdued as you pushed the door open and stepped outside. The cool evening air swept over your skin, grounding you, though the warmth lingering in your chest was harder to ignore.

—

a/n: again just a filler chapter but i think i know where this is going from here huhuhu~ please reblog to support! I also love feedback, and comments :)

taglist (lmk if you want to be added!) : @cheezemanz @shirukitsune @miharuwrites @multifandomkid @violetpassionfruit @sapphirebarnes @grilledcheesewithjalapeno @angelbabyyy99 @theendofmaterialgworl @venuslovey

[h-c-u]

Keep your eyes open

Summary: Mirror sex. Nothing else. Not even a crumb of plot.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader (no y/n, just honorifics) 

W/C: 4k

Rating: +18, age Gap, size difference, praise kink, oral hyper-fixation, marking, overstimulation, soft!dom/sub

A/N: I'm back, bitches! xD Bon Appétit <3

Masterlist | List of tags

Was the whole room vibrating, or was it just you...? Your mind needed a moment to focus and find yourself back in reality.

Your whole body felt dangerously hot, even though your skin was covered in the thin layer of sweat and you could feel your hair sticking to your face. Your breath was irregular, and heavy, as if you were drowning and someone just pulled you to the surface, and you were trying your best to get enough oxygen into your lungs. Your heart was beating so intensely that you could feel it even in your fingertips and toes... There was a metallic taste on your tongue, and you realised that you bit your lower lip so hard that you drew blood, but you were too overwhelmed to feel the pain.

When your breathing finally calmed down, a heavy sweet and salty scent hit your nostrils, invading your brain and reminding you of what just happened.

You were sitting in Toto's lap, although sitting was a very generous word for the state you were in. Your back was tightly pressed against his chest and for once in your life, his skin was colder than yours. That sensation helped your mind remember how to form coherent thoughts. He was using his knees to keep your legs open, letting them hang limp in the air, not able to reach the ground, so even if you could move - you wouldn't be able to escape. Toto's strong arm was holding your torso under your breasts, keeping you in the upright position as his other hand was gently caressing your thigh. Your head was resting on his shoulder, and it felt so heavy, even though you felt as if you were floating somewhere under the ceiling. His cheek was pressed to your temple and in his low, rumbling voice he was whispering things your mind wasn't able to comprehend.

Very slowly you moved your hands and placed them over his, trying to hold onto him even more, because you still felt like you could slip in between the cracks of reality. But the tone alone was able to soothe you in the way nothing else ever could. You could feel his chest vibrating behind you, while his hand moved from your thigh to your abdomen, covering almost all of it. His rough fingers were tracing unrecognisable shapes on your skin giving you goosebumps, but you loved that sensation. A huge smile sprawled across your face as you finally came back to your body.

You gently squeezed his big forearms, letting him know that you were coherent again, and when you did that - he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

- You want me to do that again...? - he asked in a hushed whisper, and the only thing you could do was nod your head slowly. - You're being so good for me, just let me take care of you... - he pressed another kiss to your head as his hand left your body for a short moment to grab the vibrating wand again, but you stopped him mid-move... Of that, you had enough. - Oh...? - he asked with a fake innocence in his voice. You could hear a sly smile that showed up on his face; you didn't even have to look at him. - You don't want more...? - he teased, even though he already knew exactly what you were asking for.

You let out a quiet mewl of protest, wriggling your hips just a little bit, grinding against his very erect cock, which was gently resting in between your folds, already soaked with your previous releases, but Toto hadn't had his yet... He always took care of you first, no matter what. He even joked sometimes that at his age he might not be able to keep up with you anymore, but that was bullshit because he was almost always able to outlast you; the control he had over his own body... It was something to be admired, especially in moments like this.

- And you think you're ready...? - he asked in a soft, teasing, almost condescending tone as he gently traced his fingers on the inside of your thighs, giving you goosebumps that spread all over your body. His hands rested on your hips for a moment, where his thumbs gently rubbed the skin before he pulled you back, allowing his shaft to slide up, teasing your clit along the way, which drew another twitch from your body. You couldn't help but part your lips, letting out a soft whine from between them, as his hand travelled up your body, teasing your nipples, until he reached your jaw, where his delicate touch tightened. He roughly grabbed you and forced you to look in the mirror in front of you.

You looked absolutely obscene...

Your eyes looked like they were made of glass, your lips were swollen and puffed from constant biting, and your skin glistened in the soft, dim light. Your neck and shoulders were covered in hickeys and bitemarks, already filling up with crimson. Before your gaze travelled lower, you looked up, to catch Toto's grin, but it was far from malicious; he resembled a proud cat, who presented the fruits of his bountiful hunt. He gently nudged your temple with his nose and playfully bit the top of your ear when he noticed you were looking at him, and you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. But it wasn't long before he guided your head forward again so you could go back to examining your body.

Your hair was a mess, sticking not only to your own flushed skin, but also to Toto's, and your nipples stood proudly erect from all the stimulation, and just by looking at them you could feel them tensing even more. You were spread open by his legs, your most vulnerable parts exposed and displayed... Well... They were just a minute ago, but right in the reflection they were hidden behind a long, thick cock, which tip reached your navel, and just the sight of it made you swallow.

When you saw it for the first time, you were convinced there was no chance he'd ever fit inside you, but somehow he made it fit.

As if out of its own volition, your hand travelled to his shaft, and as soon as your fingers traced the length, Toto hissed quietly in your ear, which made you retreat and look down, but that didn't help, because instead of a reflection, your gaze met the real thing and you instantly started salivating. The smooth texture of a dark pink tip was almost glistening in the soft light, and you could see how tensely the skin was stretched over the girth, giving the impression that it was almost too thick to be contained. Every vein was not only visible but practically emphasized... And when it suddenly twitched and touched your abdomen - there was a sticky spot of precum left on your skin.

- I asked you a question, Angel... - he said with a playful grin, and you instantly looked up to catch his beautiful chocolate eyes staring back at you from the mirror. You swallowed loudly and looked down again as if to make sure, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Or rather what you were about to get inside you.

But somehow words eluded you, so instead you just nodded slowly without breaking eye contact with Toto's reflection.

- Well, if you're sure... - he chuckled quietly... - But first I need you to promise me one thing. Do you think you can do that for me...? - he asked, the cunning smile still echoing in his voice. You nodded again, and he licked your exposed neck, soothing the nasty bite he already left there. When he looked at you again, his gaze darkened. - Keep your eyes open. - he said in a stern voice, and you couldn't help but swallow, because you knew what was about to come, and even though every cell in your body craved it, you were aware that it wasn’t going to be possible without a certain amount of pain. - Yeah...? - he asked after not receiving any confirmation from you.

- Yeah... - it was all you were able to say, your voice still strained and raspy from all the screaming.

- Good girl... - he growled and playfully bit your earlobe, at the same time pulling you even closer into him. You almost closed your eyes when his hands started moving down your body, but you stopped yourself at the last second and looked in the mirror again. Your gaze was pulled to Toto's hands under your thighs, where he gave you a gentle squeeze, letting you know to get ready and relax, before lifting you until his thick tip was pressed against your entrance, and suddenly you weren't so sure if you were ready. He looked almost comically big next to you.

But then he started slowly lowering you, and it was too late to back out. At first, there was only the pressure of his smooth head pushing against your opening, without being able to penetrate, until suddenly his cock slid forward on a slippery mess, shot up gliding between your folds and teasing your clit, which forced a loud squeal from between your lips. You could feel his chest moving behind you, as he tried to mask a chuckle. But he didn't say anything... Instead, he pressed a long kiss to your shoulder and lifted you again.

For a moment you thought that the scenario would repeat itself when that pressure at your entrance grew, but then your already relaxed body lost the battle and gave in, swallowing almost a third of his shaft in one go, driving all air from your lungs in a loud squeak. It took a good few seconds for your brain to process the stimuli, and for a moment you didn't even feel the burning pain of being stretched so much that clenching was impossible, but when it hit you, tears almost instantly started gathering in the corners of your eyes... It was all too much, and a single sob left your mouth.

- Oh, I know it hurts, Angel, I'm sorry... - Toto whispered straight into your ear and rubbed his cheek against your temple. - You're being so good for me, taking me so well... - he continued praising you; his hot breath whiffed over your skin causing almost painful goosebumps. You sniffled quietly and mumbled something your brain couldn't comprehend at the moment, your nervous system completely flooded with the sensations coming from inside of you. - Hmmm? What's that? - he made sure that you didn't use your safe word, but you only weakly repeated the quiet plea. - No, baby, we can't stop yet, I'm not even halfway there and your pussy is too pretty to be half empty... - your sobs grew a little bit louder, and the tears finally overflowed and started streaming down your cheeks. - Shhh, shhh, shhhhhh... It's OK if you cry, you're safe, I promise... I love you so much... - his praise made something in your chest bloom and a familiar warmth spilled from that area... You took one deep breath and nodded, letting him know you were ready to continue.

You let your head roll back and rest on his shoulder while his fingers dug into your flesh as he slowly lifted you again in the air. The thickness of his cock pressed against every single spot inside you on its way out, and you let out another sob, this time louder and you could almost feel him smiling, even though you couldn't see his face from this angle, your nose buried in his neck. Your lips latched onto his skin and you started sucking, trying to distract yourself at least a little from the burning pain coming from between your legs.

He didn't let his whole length leave your body to give you a short break, and as soon as the head was about to pop out of you, he started lowering you again almost mechanically, not speeding up or slowing down, allowing you to get used to the sensations. Before your lips left his skin, you gave him a playful bite over the hickey and rubbed your tears away on his neck and with your own shoulder, because bringing your hands to your face required the amounts of energy you didn't possess at the moment.

You let out a quiet squeal when you felt a familiar pressure against your cervix, and the muscles in your thighs involuntarily clenched. You forced your head up to look in the mirror, but you still didn't have enough strength to keep it upright by yourself, so you rested your temple on Toto's cheek, and the view you saw in front of you almost took your breath away...

Both yours and Toto's skin glistened in the dim warm light, giving the impression that you were covered in a gold mist... Your legs hung loosely in his strong hands, your soft flesh giving into his grip, and every place where his fingers dipped into you looked like a secret oasis of desire, showing how much he didn't want to let you go. You didn't realise that before, but your breath synched with his, or his with yours, and you were moving in perfect harmony, both of your chests rising and falling at the same rhythm as if you were a single organism. And then your gaze travelled lower...

You could see your stomach bulging every time he slowly lowered you down, his massive cock invading your abdomen. You could tell exactly where the tip was and the steady movement almost hypnotized you; you couldn't help yourself and your hand traveled to your stomach, where you could feel him move under the skin. It wasn't the first time you were seeing it, but every time was equally fascinating... Seeing your skin stretching to accommodate something so big, and your opening straining around his girth; he was changing your body in front of your eyes, and you loved it more than you could put into words.

And then he lowered you even more and pain shot through your legs and spine; Toto rammed into your cervix, pushing it back into your body, and you couldn't stop a loud whine that left your lips. Your heart rolled back again, all the sensations too overwhelming to consciously process, so you just let yourself ride it through, trusting him completely.

Toto knew your body well by now, so he squeezed your thighs harder, pulling your attention away from the pain inside you, and he rubbed his cheek against your face, inhaling deeply and allowing your scent to invade his senses.

- You're taking me so well, Angel... So tight for me... - he continued praising you and pressing light kisses everywhere his lips could reach. And with his every word, every thrust, you started to feel the tension building up again, the familiar tightness overtaking your body as his cock constantly stimulated your G spot even with the slightest of moves. You grabbed his forearm with one hand and pressed on your stomach with the other - That's it, baby, that's it... Cum for me, pleeeease cum for me. It's ok, you can do it. - his tone was so soft, putting you at ease and you let yourself go yet again, a quiet moan escaping your lips as your legs involuntarily twitched in his hands, disrupting his steady rhythm, but not stopping completely.

Electricity run through your whole body as the tip of Toto's cock dragged against that spot inside you yet again, and you couldn't stop the loud cry that forced itself from your mouth. Your brain felt fuzzy, and as if it was behind a thick wall, not completely belonging to you. You couldn't lift your head, but your eyes locked with his in the mirror, while sob after quiet sob dropped from between your lips.

- Please... Toto... I can't anymore... - you whined, looking at him with a plea painted all over your face. He only smiled in reply and kissed the top of your head, but he didn't stop moving you up and down, almost like a doll. You wrapped your hands around your body and continued crying as he sped up, your whines matching his moves. But despite the pain and all the stimulation, you didn't close your eyes; after all - he told you not to. And he held your gaze; his eyes darkening with your every plea and you could only see determination in them. He held you even tighter as he continued fucking into you; his thrusts getting faster, more desperate, more erratic. - Toto... I can't... I can't cum anymore... - your voice cracked, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your whole body felt hot and cold at the same time as it hung loosely in his arms and rested against his chest. You barely had enough energy to stay still as he used your body.

- Don't worry, this will be the last one, I promise... I know you can do it, Angel... Here, I'll even go nice and slow to help you a little bit, just to be sure you can take it all, hmmm? - he whispered against your skin and you couldn't even reply coherently, as his movements became more drawn out, more deliberate. He was purposefully angling your body so as much pressure as possible was dragging against that sweet spot inside you at any given moment, and your cries started to mix with moans yet again. - That's it, you're doing amazing... You're such a good girl... Just a little bit longer... - his voice was getting husky and gravely, his breaths shallow and uneven; it couldn't be easy for him to manhandle you like that, but he showed no signs of stopping, continuing to move your body up and down his shaft, a cheeky smile curving his lips as he heard the change in your voice.

Against everything you thought you knew about your body, you started to feel another orgasm approaching; slowly, but unmistakably closing in. You couldn't look away from him, because you knew that if you did, you wouldn't be able to take it any longer and his beautiful dark chocolate eyes were the only thing grounding you in reality.

Your broken sobs became higher the closer you were to the peak, and Toto knew it well, that's why you almost screamed in protest when he suddenly stopped, dropping you completely onto his cock, sheathing it in full inside you.

- Toto... Toto, pleeeeease. Please, please, please, I am so close... - you whined and looked up at him, trying to look into his eyes up close, as if that could help.

- I thought you said you couldn't cum anymore... - he teased with a sly smile and a cold shiver ran through your spine. He wouldn't... He couldn't, right...?

- Nononononono... Please... I was wrong, please... - tears of desperation were streaming down your cheeks, but you couldn't care less.

- Oh, Angel... - his voice was soft and soothing; he could never resist your pleas. He playfully bit the side of your neck and immediately licked it at the same time moving you up again and a quiet squeal tore itself from between your lips. - Just a little bit longer... Can you do that for me...? Can you wait for me...? - he whispered quietly with his nose digging into your cheek, his words composed more from heavy breathing than actual sound.

Instead of replying you just nodded enthusiastically and pressed yourself into his chest even harder; not sure when your own body ended and his began. And then he picked up the speed again, and you just couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back into your head. You had to wrap your arms around yourself, so they wouldn't be flailing widely in the rhythm of Toto's moves. You could feel your breasts bouncing, straining against gravity, the slight sting of skin slapping against skin, the sound filling the room in tandem with other sounds. Moans, growls, whines, and whimpers mixed with each other in an unnamed symphony, accompanied by the loud squelching coming from your pussy.

Toto's fingers dug deeper into your flesh to get a tighter grip; your skin was covered in a layer of sweat and he didn't want to accidentally drop you. And if that meant that you'd be donning bruises in the shape of his fingers for the next few days... Oh well.

You were so fucking close... You could almost taste it with your mouth wide open, willing your body to hold on for just a little bit longer. You didn't even feel your fingernails drawing blood from where you were holding onto yourself.

And then something shifted in the air. Toto's growls became deeper and louder, and you could just tell that he closed his eyes and that his eyebrows gathered closer, focusing on the culmination of today's evening. He started thrusting up, although, in the position you were in, it wasn't easy. His face was pressed into your shoulder, his hot breath giving you goosebumps all over.

It wasn't long before you could feel his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you right before release, and as soon as he released the first spurt of cum right against your cervix, he dropped you onto his cock, wrapped his hand around your waist and with the other reached down ad started rubbing your clit with just enough pressure that you came instantly releasing an exhausted yet satisfied cry, allowing your body to act on its own.

Your legs curled up, your toes crossed each other and your stomach tensed, and if not for Toto's arm, you would have slid down from his lap onto the floor. And then he continued rubbing, as all air left your lungs and you became quiet. Or maybe you screamed...? You weren't quite sure, because the only thing you were able to hear was a loud, rapid heartbeat ringing in your ears, as you were spasming around Toto's giant cock inside you. He made you ride your orgasm to the fullest, relishing in the feeling of your soft walls squeezing around him, as your body twitched uncontrollably until it couldn't anymore.

You were left limply laying in Toto's hold, and after you were able to catch your breath you let out a quiet, raspy chuckle.

- I swear to gods, the things you do to me... - you said with disbelief, your mouth was so dry that when you closed it, your tongue almost stuck to the roof of your mouth. Toto joined you in the quiet laughter, his chest rumbling gently under your back

- Ich liebe dich... - he mumbled and pulled you up his lap, even closer to him than you already were, and hid his face in the nook of your neck, taking a deep breath. You lifted your hand and ran your fingers through his soft hair.

- I love you too... - you chuckled again, not exactly by choice... Your body still didn't belong fully to you and it tried to release all the accumulated tension in any way it could, and that also meant that you still randomly twitched from time to time, but that didn't stop you from noticing that Toto's giant hand found it's way to your abdomen, fingers tracing the bulge he was a cause of. - You're not planning on pulling out, are you... - it was more of a statement than a question and your tone was light, almost like a warm laughter.

- I wouldn't dream about it. - he replied and started sucking on the skin of your shoulder again, and you just knew that you were going to wake up with another load of his cum inside you.

Eventually, you were able to look up at your reflection again, and you didn't even try to hide a giant smile that curved your lips. There was no way you could hide all the bitemarks, hickeys and bruises in the coming days, but neither could he, so at least you were matching. 

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, friends to lovers, mentions of nudity, brief mention of masturbation (m). Basically, Eddie finds you sleeping naked in his bed.

A/N: Idk I've had this idea in my head for too long now and I need to exorcise it out of me with this little drabble or I'll never be able to get on with my life.

Forest Hills trailer park wasn't your usual stop after clocking out of work but after the day you’ve had you don’t have it in you to wait for the next bus back to your apartment. Your place is 30 minutes away but the journey is sure to take even longer in the current downpour.

Staying over at the trailer wasn't anything new. A spare key was entrusted to you years ago and you made use of it on days like this to crash at Eddie’s for convenience sake. The key came with the promise that you were welcome to anything you needed even if both Eddie and Wayne were away – shower, food, an extra change of clothes, what have you, and you needed them all today.

With Wayne out of town for a few days and Eddie due back in two hours you sink into auto pilot, weary down to the bone from your shift. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel as weird as it probably should when you started to undress in their kitchenette, hanging your work clothes over the back of a nearby chair, rummaging through the fridge in your bra and panties for a quick bite to eat before heading for the shower.

There wasn’t much in it besides beer since Wayne hadn’t been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries – something you were going to nag him for again when you had the strength to do so.

Cereal it would have to be.

You located a box inside one of the cupboards, tipping the wheaty, sugary contents straight into your mouth without bothering with a bowl and spoon. It’s not lost on you how similarly you’re acting to Eddie right down to the unruly state of half undress, wiping crumbs off your lips with the back of your hand. If you finished off with a belch it'd be like he never left the trailer this morning.

The messy mouthfuls of cereal prove enough to silence the toad’s croak of hunger that'd been gurgling noisily inside your belly, putting the box away.

Traipsing through, feet dragging, you threw your clothes into the washer next along with your underwear, completely nude now in the Munson trailer as you made your way to the shower – but not before reaching out for Eddie's Garfield mug that sat on a nearby shelf, turning it around so that the cartoon cat's lazy smirk no longer faced you. For your modesty.

You try to keep the shower brisk, not wanting to use up all the hot water but with the way it sprays down on your aching body, the steam and heat combo soothing your poor sore muscles, it’s so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.

You did make use of Eddie’s body wash, some spicy, woodsy smelling thing in a jet-black bottle but you didn't dare use the two in one shampoo that sat in their shower caddy. It might have worked fine for Eddie and his wild mane but you knew better than to apply the stuff to your own hair. Fortunately, experience had taught you to carry a travel sized bottle filled with your own shampoo whenever you stayed over, working over your locks in a lather scented with cranberries and vanilla.

Stamina depleting by the second, toweling off and brushing your teeth takes the last sliver of energy out of you. Eyelids slipping, movements sluggish, limbs feeling too heavy for your own body to hold up – you’re shutting down whether you like it or not.

Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. You’d even picked out one of Eddie’s washed t-shirts and a pair of boxers out of the laundry and set them down at the foot of the bed to put on before you made yourself comfortable but that’s not what happened.

Still nude, you crawl into bed, seeking warmth and soft comfort, numbed down to a kind of tunnel vision with rest being your one and only goal.

It feels all the more natural because you’re used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that you’re not in your bed, draping a blanket that doesn't belong to you over your spent body, surrendering to sleep seconds after your head hits the pillow.

It'd still been raining when Eddie returns later. Dragging himself through the trailer, nearly as worn down as you had been, shaking the excess water out of his hair like a dog trying to get dry.

The smell of your shampoo still lingering in the air tells him you're there, finding you curled up in his bed, all bundled up to your neck. The sight makes him smile.

It doesn't take too long for him to join you, following a similar routine – a quick bite with the addition of a beer and then a shower, only he doesn't skip out on clothing himself in his PJ's first.

If he’d shared the blanket with you he might have found out about your lack of dress sooner but as the gentleman that he can sometimes be, he pulls out a spare blanket from the closet so as to not wake you, prolonging the discovery. Being friends for so long meant that sharing a bed was never awkward even after you'd became adults.

That was until the next morning came.

It’s not the stream of morning light brightening from a cool blue to a warm amber peeking in between the curtains that wakes Eddie, or even the tinny smack of his neighbor’s broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. It’s the warmth of your ass pressed flush against his crotch and his nose nestled in your sweet-smelling hair that pulls him out of a dream he wont be able to recall later if he tried.

He shifts closer, eyes cracking open, remembering the tiny bottle of shampoo sitting on the bathroom counter. Remembering the new toothbrush placed in the cup next to his own. Remembering the powder blue towel that neither he nor Wayne ever used laying on his bedroom floor.

And then he remembers that he’s not alone.

Oh...

And then he wishes that he was.

Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard – his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.

Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but he’s in luck because you haven’t noticed yet, still sound asleep.

This close together, he knows the slightest movement could rouse you. But what was the alternative? Wait it out? Hope to hell his boner goes away? Fat fucking chance. Not when the soft swell of your ass and your body heat alone had him questioning how he could ever go back to his calloused fist after this.

Carefully, desperately, he tries to inch back without waking you but just as he feared, you begin to stir. Your back arches instinctively, seeking out his warm, solid frame even in your sleep.

Shit shit shit.

The covers slip as you shift, your bare shoulders coming into view, eyes starting to flutter open. With no other option, Eddie swiftly rolls on to his back, his hard on no longer pressed up against you but the problem persists.

“Oh, morning”, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.

“Uh-hey. Shower’s free if you wanna go first”, he offers quickly, smiling hard, hoping to subtly usher you out because he's too afraid to get up and risk you getting a load of the tent in his pants if he were to go ahead of you.

“Thanks”, you yawn again, still occupied with rubbing at your sleepy eyes to notice your best friend's pale face turning beet fucking red in an instant as you clamber out of bed, blankets no longer concealing you.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin it’s making him short circuit.

His gaze eagerly travels over the slope of your breasts as they jiggle gently with your movements, taking in your soft nipples, moving down over your belly and hips, noticing a few new freckles and beauty marks there along the way to the soft curls between your legs.

His erection digs into the pillow, brain dangerously close to fizzing because he’d been pressed up against you like that all night and not even known it.

A shiver works its way through you, making you question why it feels so drafty in his room all of a sudden. You turn back to ask Eddie if there’s anything wrong with the heating, catching the shocked expression on his face.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of your nude body, breasts bare, no underwear. It's a good thing the occupants of the trailer park liked to mind their own business, even if sometimes you thought they did so to a fault because in any other neighborhood your piercing screech would have had everyone within earshot dialing up the cops.

The scream ricochets off the walls at an ear ringing volume, causing Eddie to jolt and lose his balance, falling out of bed while you leapt back in. Grabbing his spare pillow, you press one half against your chest and squeeze the rest between your thighs to shield yourself.

Now he slaps his hands over his eyes.

---

More than anything, you try so hard to push it aside. To pretend that it hadn't happened but it looms over you like a cloud on the brink of bursting with rain.

After three whole days of walking around eggshells around each other it's Eddie who breaks first.

"I can't stand this I don't know what else to do, Can we just talk about it please?"

“Eddie…", you sigh, a gentle warning.

"So what if I saw you naked? you saw my boner!...sort of. I mean, I guess that doesn't exactly make us even but it has to count for something, right? you're not alone in this"

You immediately set your wide eyes on the only other patrons in the diner to see if they’d overheard – two older women swapping pictures of their grandchildren over coffee and cheesecake. When neither of them take a pause in the middle of cooing about little Tommy's third Birthday or little Emily's first day of Kindergarten you redirect your attention back to Eddie.

“Eddie! Keep your voice down!”, you whisper shout at him from across the booth. "There are literal grandmother's here!"

He rolls his eyes. Not mean spirited, just unconcerned by the ladies and what they may or may not have overheard.

And then, even though no one’s paying either of you any attention, you lean closer over your half-finished key lime pie, one hand shielding the side of your face like you’re trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex who’s just walked in.

"I'm so embarrassed...please can we just drop it?", you plead, voice hushed.

He gives you this look of mild incredulity. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me", and the inflection in his tone almost gives him away, prompting him to double back immediately.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel more uncomfortable than you already do. So he doesn't need you to catch on that he's got every moment of your unintended strip tease memorized. Or that he likes to replay what he's since thought of as the best 10 seconds of his life over and over again when he's fucking his fist in the shower.

“I just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasn’t napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?” he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.

And you know he’s only trying to be nice in his own, sweet, bumbling way but you still feel terrible.

"I don't know if I can shake this feeling", you cast your eyes down, looking too close to despondent for his liking.

"Listen I- I don't know how to fix this but I want to. Please just tell me what I can do and I'll do it, okay?"

God, he's sweet and it makes you feel a little flustered being on the receiving end of that gentle stare, needing to shift the mood lest you drown in all that earnestness pooling in his eyes.

It's moments like this that call for a bad joke to cut the tension, right? some momentary and well meaning deflection before you're ready to address the matter at hand again.

Letting out a half hearted laugh, you make your best attempt to inject some humor into the situation.

"I don't know. Maybe it might help if you got naked too", you nervously scraped your fork against the buttery graham cracker crust of your pie, dislodging a few golden crumbs.

It was so very clearly a joke. At least you had thought so. Eddie? not so much.

His brown eyes go wide, looking scandalized, his voice coming out a little more quite than you're used to.

"What?"

"I mean, I showed you mine after all", you tried again in a cadence that was wholly unserious but once again, he fails to catch on.

"You want me to get naked for you?"

You should correct him and you mean to but before you're able to do just that, something about the way he's staring at you makes you want to match his seriousness. The fact that he didn't say no right away strikes you as weirdly intriguing.

"You don't have to", you clarify, adding, "It's just that – well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?”

The words that come out don't feel like you own – foreign to your ears even though they're said in your voice, with your own lips forming them and your own tongue curling around every syllable.

What the hell am I doing?

Eddie pauses. Seconds drag on like nails on a chalkboard as he taps a ringed finger thoughtfully on the edge of his empty plate smudged with faint traces of cream cheese and lime zest.

"Fine. On one condition", he leans back, arms crossing over his chest, smiling wide and megawatt bright.

Oh my god is this really happening?

“...Yeah?”

"You're going to undress me"

---

Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.

[maya1525]

Kissing Practice 🍃💨

18+ MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving & receiving oral, cream pie, rough fucking, fingering, choking, group sex, cursed technique usage during sex. Substance use, language, smoking, shotgunning.

Word count✩࿐11.3K

BONUS✩࿐Everyone is high out of their minds

Summary✩࿐Young Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto are friends with the other female Jujitsu Sorcerer in their class. The innocent Fem!Reader gets high with both men and accidentally asks if one of them could teach her how to kiss. She ends up getting more than she bargained for.

A/N✩࿐ Here’s my playlist of inspiration✨(sorry Spotifers, I’m a YouTube Premium Girl) This was an idea I had on my mind shortly after watching the first few episodes of season 2. I didn’t plan on it being this long! I hope you enjoy it!

Sex is like a sinful pool of honey, tonight you dipped your toe in to test the waters, but you weren’t able to take your toe out. Instead, the pool of pleasure had a mind of its own and pulled you under. You couldn’t breathe, regardless you didn’t care. You were drowning in it, and your whole body was lost in pure ecstasy. You felt like you hit a revelation within yourself, who knew that sinful acts could be so exhilarating? You felt hyper-aware of your body and you felt even more in tune with yourself. Tonight you will share your soul with Suguru and Satoru, and the three of you will be forever intertwined.

“What’s up Y/n? The za too good for you?” Satoru teased with an annoying smirk, as he playfully poked your cheek. He had caught you midway through spacing out. Your mind whirled trying to muster up a good comeback, but you couldn’t respond quickly enough. “Suguru look at her, she’s completely out of it,” Gojo said to his friend humorously. Now Geto was eyeing you with amusement.

“Roll us another hun, this one’s almost done.” The black-haired man instructed as he handed you a brown paper wrap.

A few previous smoke sessions ago, Suguru admitted that he likes it when you wrap the blunts. So now it’s your job whenever you smoke with them. You don’t mind it though, you like the praise he gives you whenever you wrap a good-looking dart.

You obediently leaned forward on the edge of the couch to reach the coffee table. You began to break the large green clusters down into fine pieces. Pulling the weed nuggets apart with your sharp fingernails. You set the stems off to the side as you added small sage green crumbs to the wrap. You made sure all the little clusters were consistent in size and spaced out evenly on the paper. Even though you guys were almost done smoking the first dart, you felt incredibly buzzed.

“Cat got your tongue, Y/n?” Suguru said as the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “You’ve been quiet for a while.” His voice rang out like smooth honey.

“Mmh, nothing. I’m just high.” You mumbled to yourself without thinking, earning a chuckle from both men.

“Damn, you’re such lightweight Y/n! That’s a knee-slapper.” Satoru wheezed as he leaned over and slapped Geto’s knee aggressively. The two jostled you a bit when they hit each other. Furthermore, their rough horseplay didn’t deter you from finishing up the wrap. You carefully brought the brown rolled-up paper to your mouth and began to lick its edge from left to right. Once it was damp with your saliva you closed the blunt. Holding it delicately in place to keep its shape, it was perfectly symmetrical.

“How’d I do?” You directed your attention to Geto handing him your accomplishment. After breaking the clusters down, your fingers became a sticky crumbly mess - it would feel wasteful to wash it off. You began to lick your weed-covered fingers clean. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel Gojo watching you intently as you brought your dainty fingers to your lips.

Geto eyed you briefly and then to the blunt with approval, “It looks great Y/n, you did an amazing job.”

“Yeah? You think so?” You beamed up at him; feeling warmth well up in your chest at his praise. Out of everyone you met, his words always seemed to have a great effect on you.

“Of course! You always do it perfectly. Wanna do the honors?” He gave you a sly smile as he handed it back to you. “I’ll light it, hun.” He whispered lowly.

You blushed slightly and nodded, you brought the blunt up to your lips and leaned in close to Suguru. His long slender fingers clasped the lighter and his thumb rolled over the dial, sparking a flame. As he brought the flame close to your face, you felt his left elbow lean against the couch next to your soldier. He was so close to you, that you could feel his warmth coming off of his body. You couldn’t help but notice how amazing he smelt. His scent reminded you of the warmth of fall, with a hint of something mysterious.

Once the end of the dart caught fire you inhaled and sucked on the blunt greedily as the tangy smoke filled your mouth. You swallowed the smoke down into your lungs and handed the wrap to Suguru.

Immediately, you began to cough from the rip you just took, your whole body shook as you felt your lungs twitch with irritation. You heard both men laugh at your feeble attempts to stop, but you had no luck. You felt your cheeks warm up with embarrassment as you covered your face shyly. Your whole body shuttered with each feeble cough that escaped from your lips. “S-stop *cough* laughing at me!” You croaked meekly.

“You’re such a pouty little child. How cute.” Geto chuckled, his attractive laugh echoed in your mind.

“I’m not…” you coughed once more, peaking at him through your hands and throwing your head back against the couch cushions impulsively. The music that played on the TV felt as if it was hitting you in waves. You feel high out of your mind and when you get like this, you notice words are hard to muster up.

“Not cute? Pshh, don’t be such a liar.” Satoru’s voice rang out, you felt his smooth fingers gently pry your hands away from your face to peek at you.

You shifted your attention to Gojo so your body was facing his. You felt your knees touching the side of his thigh. “Aww. So you think I’m cute?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that shit. You’re hot and you know it. A girl with your type of looks has me confused though,” he paused taking a hit from the blunt, blowing its strong-smelling smoke in your face as you batted your pretty eyelashes up at him. “How do you not have a boyfriend yet? Is there anyone you like?” He coughed after taking that rip, it was a bit too pungent.

You felt your cheeks flush at his words. “Umm, well I can’t tell you that! If I do, it might not come true!” You giggled playfully, poking Satoru’s cheek the same way he poked yours earlier.

The icy-haired man arched a brow at you with amusement, “Not come true? Isn’t that the rule for wishing on stars?”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Suguru retorted while he French inhaled; the cloudy smoke rose from his mouth and into his nose in the most captivating manner. “So you going to tell us who this mystery guy is or what?” He teased as a strand of his inky black hair fell to the side of his face.

“I do like someone.” You admitted, now getting both men’s attention. “But I feel too embarrassed to do anything about it.”

“Oh come on, why do you have to be shy? Grow a pair and make a move! It’s easy, I’ll show you!” Satoru chuckled while bringing his face closer to yours, forcing you to look into his hazy ocean-blue eyes. You noticed how easy it was for Satoru to corner you and get you all hot and bothered by his actions. In response, you swatted him away playfully and leaned over to Suguru to take the blunt. You inhaled it, letting the smoke stay in your mouth for a brief moment before letting it exhale through your nose.

Gojo snatched the blunt from you. He inhaled from the dart and blew out three impressive smoke rings. With his cursed technique, he made the rings transform into a three-dimensional sphere. The large smoke bubble floated into the TV and popped, causing the room to get even more foggy.

“Don’t tell me it’s Nanami.” Geto croaked out mid-cough and laugh.

Satoru chuckled, “Man, can you imagine if Y/n and that strait-laced Kento got together?” Gojo addressed Suguru while stealing a glance at you.

“Yeah, she’d have to say goodbye to smoking with us, that’s for sure.” The Suguru responded, but then he shifted his attention back your way. “Why would you feel embarrassed to admit your feelings to him? What type of a guy is he?”

“Well, I’ve never been in a relationship before… and I feel like my lack of experience would be embarrassing.” You muttered bashfully while stealing the blunt back from Gojo. You wanted to avoid their eyes and look busy.

Overanalyzing yourself when you’re high is one of your weaknesses. You felt clouded out of your mind at this point, if only you were sober enough to come up with a good response. It mildly frustrated you, that the feelings you felt were too hard to verbalize. All while it felt like your body was vibing to the beat of the music, as if you were melting into the couch. It began to get hard to focus like an anchor was resting on your soul. Yet at the same time, you also felt like your state of consciousness was elevated to a higher plane of reality.

“That’s such a lame excuse.” Gojo blurted out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm, maybe it’s different for girls.” Suguru backed you up. “Some guys find innocent girls hot, I think you’ll be fine.” He winked at you when you glanced over at him. Geto lounged on the couch with his legs spread out and his palm resting on the back of his neck coolly, his warm faded gaze glued on you. The way he presented himself, spurred a random desire within yourself. The irrational thought of you climbing on top of his lap just to see his reaction, crossed your mind.

“So… how innocent are you Y/n?” Satoru eyed you with a cocky grin.

“I’ve um-“ you cut yourself off trying to focus on the correct words to use, “only ever hugged and held hands before. And that’s it.” You muttered, feeling a hot wave of mortification overcome you. You couldn’t believe you just admitted that to them!

“Oh? So you haven’t even kissed anyone?” Suguru asked nonchalantly while his narrowed gaze was fixated on you.

“No, would one of you like to teach me?” You blurted out jokingly, then immediately regretted it. You panicked in your clouded state, normal people don’t joke like that with their friends! How embarrassing, they’re going to turn you down and how will you ever recover? You practically just dug yourself your own grave.

“Yes.”

Both of the men say in union and for a split second, they exchange an irritated glare towards each other.

To your bewilderment, you couldn’t believe that both would like to kiss you. The alarm you felt earlier was immediately replaced with the thrilling feeling of fireworks going off in your brain.

“So which one of us would you want to teach you? I could give you a personal lesson right now Y/n.” Gojo’s seductive voice drew you in as you felt his hot fingertips lightly graze over your left arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I-I can’t choose between you two.” You stammered nervously, “Do you think you both could teach me?” You asked, not wanting to hurt either of their feelings.

“At the same time?” Gojo inquired curiously.

“Right now?” Getou asked with a hint of excitement.

You could feel both of the men’s eyes burning holes in you. You noticed they were both sandwiching you on the couch, when did they close in on you? “I’m down to learn right now.” Your mousy voice broke the thick silence in the smoke-filled room.

In a frantic whirl, both men had you situated above one of their thighs. Suguru and Satoru sat side by side so their shoulders touched. You straddled Getou’s left leg and Gojo’s right. The look of anticipation on your face did little to hide your excitement yet overwhelming nervousness.

“Let’s start with something easy hun.” Suguru stated as he eyed you with desire, “I’m going to shotgun smoke into your mouth. You don’t have to worry about kissing yet. Just get used to the feeling of my lips.”

“Aww no fun, I just wanted to dive right in and make out with her,” Satoru whined playfully while turning the volume up on the TV. His blatant interest in you caused you to look down with an adorable blush on your face. “Damn, no need to be so bashful Y/n, you have nothing to worry about,” Gojo responded, reaching up to rest his left hand on your hip. His thumb rubbed comforting circles on you. The bold action stirred up an unfamiliar sensation in your stomach.

“When I press my lips against yours, inhale. Geto instructed while bringing the dart up to his lips. You naturally held your breath with the fluttering sensation of butterflies clouding your emotions.

Suguru’s hooded dark amber eyes glinted toward yours as he gingerly brought your chin closer to his. This was your first kiss and you wanted to memorize everything about it. In your smokey state of consciousness, you felt as if this moment was going in slow motion. As his face got closer to yours he closed his eyes, and you instinctively did the same. His smooth lips ghosted over yours which caused sparks to fly inside of your mind. You parted your lips while he opened his mouth to blow the harsh smoke into yours. You naturally inhaled just like you were supposed to. His lips softly brushed against yours, he delicately kissed your plump lower lip and pulled away. A subtle smile danced across his handsome features, as thin wisps of smoke slithered upward between your faces.

You felt as if your heart was beating a million miles per minute, Suguru handed you the blunt; purposely grazing his fingers against yours in the process. “Now do what I just did to Satoru.”

You brought the blunt up to your lips, inhaled, and held the smoke in your mouth as you shifted your weight onto Gojo’s lap. You gripped his broad shoulders for balance. In return, his hand that was on your hip snaked its way to your lower back, pulling you into him possessively. A surprised gasp came out of you as a sliver of smoke escaped from your lips. Satoru gave a hazed smirk at how easily he could fluster you. He leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against yours. You parted your lips to blow the foggy smoke into his awaiting mouth. You felt him suck the air out of your lungs, causing you to battle him for oxygen. You mustered up the courage to kiss him the way Suguru kissed you. Timidly, you kissed his upper lip as he greedily sucked your lower. You felt his molten tongue barge into your mouth and glide across your tongue. Feeling his tongue for the first time spurred a primal arousal deep inside of you. Not only was your head buzzing, but your lower region buzzed with excitement as well.

Gojo pulled away from your mouth as a small strand of saliva broke that connected your lips. With his free hand, he brought his thumb up to your lower lip to wipe off the little bit of drool. He kept his hot gaze on your lips for a brief moment before you felt Geto’s comforting hand guide your slim waist over to him.

“You’ll kiss her again Satoru. But right now it’s my turn.” Suguru spoke out huskily. He took the blunt from you to take a quick puff before handing it over to Satoru. With his tender grip on your waist, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. The strong-smelling smoke entered your mouth once more. Your mouth watered at its taste as you sucked it in. This time you made sure to kiss Suguru back while he moved his lips against yours expertly. You hesitantly brought one of your hands to the back of his head and gently tangled your slim fingers in his black cascading locks. As soon as you did that, you felt his hand on your hip glide down to your thigh. He squeezed your plump skin lightly, causing a muffled mewl of surprise to get swallowed by his lips.

The way he kissed you was a little different compared to Gojo’s style. Suguru seemed to focus on sucking and biting. While Satoru was playful and liked to utilize his tongue. You copied the way Geto moved his lips against yours; you alternated between nibbling and sucking his lips gently. You felt a rhythm form between you two the longer you kissed him. You memorized the feeling of his smooth lips and sharp teeth against your lips. You felt a bit more confident in the way you kissed Suguru, so you pulled away with a mischievous smile. You leaned over to kiss Satoru, who was watching you two intensely.

He immediately darted his tongue into your mouth and you greeted it with your own. His tongue wrestled yours for dominance and he easily overpowered you. You mirrored the way Gojo kissed you by using his style against him, which fired him up even more. He felt a bit more desperate with his kisses, while Suguru seemed to be slightly possessive. Being this close to Satoru made you realize how much you desired his scent, he smelt fresh and clean like a summer’s breeze next to a waterfall. You felt Geto lean in close to the two of you and latched his hot mouth onto your exposed neck. A muffled gasp of pleasure escaped from your lips and into Gojo’s mouth.

“Got tired of watching?” Mumbled Satoru cockily as his lips danced across yours for another hot kiss. No one has ever done that to your neck before. Suguru gently smooched your tender skin which caused chills of excitement to run across your body. His molten mouth felt so sensual on your sensitive neck. You suddenly felt so needy, and in your buzzed state, you decided to follow your instincts. You reached up to grab a hold of Getou’s broad shoulder, pulling him closer to you. All while you kissed Gojo, you made sure to tangle your free hand in his white hair. It felt like your body and your energy were colliding and entangling itself with theirs. You were able to sense their intense desire and excitement towards you, which felt like overpowering waves.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Suguru pulled away from your neck. He gently guided your face away from Satoru’s so he could steal some kisses from you. His mouth gently nibbled yours as he moved his lips against yours passionately. Gojo didn’t take it lightly when his dark-haired friend stole you from his grasp. So in return, he leaned forward and began to roughly kiss and suck on your neck. Knowing that he’d leave a few angry red marks. The hand Satoru had on your lower back, snaked its way to the inside part of your upper thigh. The feeling of his hand between your legs activated a wanton desire inside of you. Gojo delicately traced his fingers along your thigh, all the way down to your knee and then up, dangerously close to your center. He tested the waters and snuck his fingers underneath your skirt this time. His hand slid upward to the hem of your underwear but then darted lower to grip your leg firmly. This bold gesture caused your center to fire up with excitement. Suguru picked up on what his friend was doing to you so he brought his hand underneath your skirt too, but higher up of course. He rubbed his thumb in soft circles on your squishy thigh.

Gojo then pulled away from your neck to steal you back from Suguru. In return, Geto gently kissed your neck while he stroked the inside part of your thigh. You moved your mouth against Gojo’s with a sense of urgency now, you wanted them to touch you more. With two mouths working on you, you felt overwhelmed with sensations. Everything felt amplified, because of how high you were. It felt as if you were hyper-aware of every little touch and caress each man did to you. You didn’t want to ask them to take it further, so in your blurred state of consciousness, you felt bold enough to make a move. You hesitantly brought your hand down to Suguru’s firm thigh as you feverishly made out with Gojo. You slowly traced your fingers higher up his leg until you felt a firm bulge in his pants. A sudden wave of nervousness washed over you causing you to freeze.

“Tch, no need to be so nervous Y/n…” Geto purred, he kissed a trail up your neck and whispered in your ear, “I can show you how to touch it if you want.”

“Show me.” You whimpered into Satoru’s mouth as you felt Suguru’s hand caress the top of yours. He guided your hand along his clothed shaft, he felt so hard and girthy. He controlled your hand with a bit more pressure. You heard him inhale sharply as your dainty hand rubbed his length. While you persistently stroked Geto’s growing dick, your mouth battled for dominance against Gojo’s. He wiggled his tongue into your mouth with immeasurable desire. It felt as if the room was on fire with passion, your clothes suddenly felt so restricting. Suguru’s pants seemed to get tighter the more you rubbed on him.

Geto greedily stole your mouth off of Satoru’s to kiss you excitedly. Gojo placed feather-like kisses on your neck and exposed collarbone, and you felt his hand inch it's way higher up your skirt. You sensed Satoru’s hot fingers lightly prodding your pussy lips from the outside of your underwear. The pleasurable sensations drove you wild, you could feel your panties dampen tremendously.

Your curious fingers traced the outline of Suguru’s cock and you were able to feel his bulge twitch when you neared his tip. “Fuck.” Geto hissed out in satisfaction.

“I want to do so much more to her Suguru…” Gojo groaned while giving your neck a heated and sloppy kiss.

“Y/n’s pretty innocent. We don’t want to spoil her if she has her heart set on another guy,” Geto mumbled against your lips.

Gojo hooked his finger into your panties, his finger glided over your slick folds in the process. “Mmh, Satoru!” You moaned quietly as he dipped the tip of his finger into your tight wet hole.

“You’d rather have the guy you like do these things to you, hun, wouldn’t you?” You felt him tug at your lace underwear with his reddish lust-filled eyes. “I don’t think I could hold myself back if we continue. Do you want us to take things further?”

You studied the flirtatious look on Satoru’s face for a brief moment, as you gathered your thoughts. You weren’t sober enough to think this over the way you would’ve liked, but the thought of experiencing more intimate pleasure with these two excited you. Without meaning to; you lightly squeezed Geto’s penis, causing his alluring dark eyes to light up as he flashed you a killer smirk. You felt Satoru’s fingertips sweetly stroke your pussy lips and a small needy whimper escaped your lips. “I-mmh.” Another sweet moan interrupted your sentence when you felt his finger gently rub over your clit.

You looked over at Geto whose dark eyes had a mischievous glint in them. “What is it dear?” Suguru teased with a sly smile on his handsome face.

“I want- ahh.” This time Satoru pressed on your clit with a bit more pressure, causing sparks of ecstasy to bubble up inside of you for a split second. Both Geto and Gojo were extremely turned on by your sexy little sighs and gasps of delight. They both wanted to make you feel good. Yet, the greedier side of their personalities wanted to claim you as theirs and deflower you, before you ended up with the guy you liked.

You removed your hand from Suguru’s bulge and ghosted your fingers over the button on his pants, you looked up at him for permission. “Teach me how to be a good girlfriend-“ You got cut off with a feverish kiss from Suguru, and you felt his hand grip your ass firmly. You pulled away to finish your sentence, but when you did Gojo sneakily pressed his lips onto yours, as his fingers teased your dampening pussy lips. “Don’t hold back.” You said almost innocently with a sweet smile on your pretty face.

“If that’s what you want, then unbutton our pants dear,” Suguru instructed, while bringing the blunt up to his lips.

“Fuck.” Satoru growled as he leaned forward to give you a heated kiss, he deliberately grabbed your hands and led them down to the tent in his pants. “Unbutton mine first.” He murmured urgently into your mouth. Excitement rose inside of you. You obediently did what he ordered and your nimble fingers worked at freeing his dick from its confines. Once his zipper went down, the bulge in his boxers seemed to grow even more. Like a delightful present just for you. You felt the heat coming off of his hidden shaft. You looked up to see Gojo giving you a buzzed smile with the blunt in between his lips. “Go on, take it out to play.” His blue eyes looked at you with a burning passion in the dark hotboxed room.

Without thinking you lowered his gray boxers down to see his large and lengthy dick spring free. Your mouth instinctively watered at the sight of his delicious-looking cock. Even though it looked heavy, it surprised you with how it stood up on its own. Before you could reach out and touch it, Geto guided your hands over to his crotch. You knew what he wanted and undid his restraints as well. Within seconds his elongated dick stood up proudly like Gojo’s. Both men’s cocks were quite similar in length, but Suguru’s leaned a little to the left and Satoru’s to the right.

It looked like both of their horny rods were pointed toward you. They wanted you just as bad as you wanted them. You softly placed your left hand on Geto’s dick and your right hand on Gojo’s. Their smooth girths felt hot to the touch, both men naturally bucked their hips into your soft hands. This entire situation felt completely taboo and that turned you on tremendously. Your curious hands examined each man's shaft. Your fingertips felt every vein on their velvety dicks. It intrigued you when they would occasionally twitch in your hands.

Satoru put his hand over yours and pumped your smaller hand at a quick pace. “Can you keep this up, babe?” You got the idea and nodded when he removed his hand from yours. You jerked off each man in union. You loved how they would quietly groan to themselves in pleasure while you jacked them. Both men watched you with delight, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Gojo handing the blunt over to Geto.

You suddenly felt a small amount of hot slick wetness drip down onto your right hand. Satoru’s tip had leaked a bit of precum. You wiped your thumb over the head of his dick to watch more clear liquid ooze out. You looked over to Suguru’s tip, to see that he had a small droplet of milky white cum rolling down the side of his penis too.

“Get on your knees.” Geto’s smooth voice interrupted your ogling, so you did what you were told. Now that you were at eye level with both men’s rods, it made you realize how much larger they actually were. “Lick my tip, sweetheart,” Suguru instructed while inhaling on the blunt. He blew the delicious-smelling smoke down onto you, as you brought your face closer to his upright cock.

His dick practically loomed over your face with its impressive length. You made sure to keep pumping Gojo’s length as you brought your pert lips to Suguru’s clean-scented shaft. Your mouth water with anticipation. You brought your heated gaze to Geto’s, while your molten tongue gingerly licked his tip.

Geto hissed out in pleasure when he felt your slick tongue glide across the head of his cock. Pride welled up in his chest knowing that his dick is the first one you put your mouth on.

Once your tongue came in contact with his precum the taste reminded you of tears. You licked his entire tip and worked your way lower down, so he was coated in your drool. His shiny penis reflected the light that came off of the tv in the dark smoke-filled room. You were about to put him inside of your mouth when Satoru guided your head over to his needy dick.

“Suck me.” Satoru hummed softly while affectionately tangling his fingers in your hair. You lowered your mouth down to the tip of his hot cock. You made sure to pump Geto in your left hand, he was so slippery from your saliva. Jerking him off was effortless and you were able to glide your hand along his shaft quickly. You gently beckoned Satoru into your mouth with your sultry tongue. You were able to feel his dick throb against the roof of your mouth. You naturally wanted to make Satoru feel good, and you forced yourself to take him towards the back of your throat. Panic set in quickly when it became hard to breathe. Your throat instinctively squeezed the head of Gojo’s cock as you gagged on him.

“Easy babe…” Satoru groaned out sexily, vigorously enjoying your enthusiasm, “You don’t have to choke yourself. Take your time getting used to having a dick in your mouth.” He purred, just his voice alone made you dampen in your underwear.

You moved your mouth higher up his dick to focus on sucking his tip. You swirled your tongue around him curiously, he let out a pleasured exhale. “Mmh… yeah. Do that again.” He muttered as his brilliant blue eyes looked down at you with heated ratification. Suguru handed him the blunt and Satoru drew a greedy breath from the slowly shrinking dart. You swiveled your tongue around his sensitive tip while maintaining eye contact with him. Smoke flared from his nose as the tip of his tongue grazed over his top row of teeth with satisfaction.

You mustered up a bit more courage to take more of him into your mouth. This time you tried to calm your breathing as you alternated between sucking and moving your tongue along his shaft. He was much too big to fit in your mouth entirely, so you placed your right hand on the base of his shaft. “Can you move your head up and down Y/n?” Satoru instructed. You obliged, as you bobbed your head on his girthy cock. You found it easier to get used to having him deep in your throat with your quick movements.

With more confidence in having a dick in your mouth, you switched over to Geto’s erect cock. You licked his tip lovingly before engulfing him in your wet mouth. Suguru relished in the slick warmth your mouth provided. You sucked his tip and slowly worked your way down to his base. Feeling him that deep in your throat caused you to gag slightly, this was a tough feeling that you would have to get used to. You pushed the choking feeling aside, you wanted to make Geto feel good too. You held him there for a brief moment while he sweetly tangled his fingers in your hair.

“You’re doing so good, keep it up.” He cooed huskily; you felt your eyes well up with tears from the mild suffocation. Suguru couldn’t help but admire the way you looked as you struggled to have him in your throat. You felt his penis pulse inside of you, causing you to make a small muffled cough. Your time on his dick was cut short, “I think it’s time we advance this lesson a bit further.” He groaned out in pleasure as you sucked him like a straw. He reluctantly moved you off of his dick.

“Get undressed for us?” Satoru purred, his statement was more of an order than a suggestion.

You stood in front of both men as you unbuttoned your blouse. You could feel their eyes watching you intensely. Once you slipped your shirt off, you let your skirt pool down to your feet. There you were; standing before Gojo and Geto partially naked, yet entirely aroused. They admired your sexy bra and skimpy underwear. Your body looked so appetizing for the men, you felt like a rabbit on display for a pair of starved wolves.

With Gojo’s six eyes, he could sense how wet you already were. Suddenly, you became weightless and floated in the air. A surprised squeak escaped your lips, as you tried to comprehend what was happening. You felt your body direct itself without command and positioned above Gojo’s lap. A dashing smirk flashed across his face and within seconds he expertly pushed your panties to the side and placed his slippery dick against your entrance.

“Is this what you want?” He teased with a cocky laugh.

Feeling his dick against your needy opening sent waves of excitement rushing through your veins. You felt Gojo’s technique release and gravity pulled you down further onto his hot and ready dick. The tip had barely inserted itself into you causing discomfort at the stretch. Your knees dug into the couch on either side of him, and you hovered above him to prevent more of his meaty cock to penetrate you.

Geto picked up on your displeasure, “Slow down Satoru, she’s a virgin. Perhaps we should prepare her a bit more thoroughly.”

“Mmh, don’t be such a wet blanket Suguru. I was only teasing her.” Gojo chimed as he pushed his pelvis upwards, forcing about an inch of his dick to invade you.

“Ahh!” You whined at the stinging ache between your legs. Even though the pain was prominent, you couldn’t help but get aroused at such a close feeling with Satoru.

Gojo’s blue eyes began to glow, indicating his technique was at play. Your body floated off of his lap and upward. Your legs spread apart without your control, your left leg rested on Geto’s right shoulder and your right leg went over Gojo’s left. You felt your cheeks heat up in this vulnerable position.

Now both men were between your legs with a lustful look in their faded eyes. You could feel your pussy buzz with excitement. Suguru took the initiative and slid your panties to the side; exposing your pretty pink pussy. Your lips are slick with arousal, causing both men’s mouths to water. They couldn’t wait to try a taste. “Is it ok if we touch you down here?” Suguru hummed as he ghosted his index finger across your folds. Earning a needy sound to come from the back of your throat.

You nodded desperately, “please.”

Geto maintained his focused gaze on your red-hot cunt. He faintly traced the folds of your slippery lips with his pointer and index fingers. Gojo brought his hand to the inside of your thigh and lightly massaged the sensitive crook between your legs. His skilled fingers rubbing your crease, made you realize how sensitive you were there. You unintentionally squirmed underneath his hand. Small whimpers of delight escaped your lips when he massaged a bit deeper into your thigh. All while Suguru’s ghostly touches drove you up a wall, you wanted him to touch you so much more.

The burning passion these two men made you feel, felt incredibly intense. In your buzzed state, every touch they did to you felt amazing. Even though the teasing only just began you couldn’t stand it. Your entire body craved for more. As if Geto could hear your thoughts he lowered his mouth down onto your pussy. Before he came in contact with you, his dark eyes met yours, “You want me to eat you?” You felt his hot breath waft over your sensitive core.

“Mmh-hmm.” You mewed with excitement, the anticipation burned you up.

With his warm gaze fixated on yours, you saw the corner of his mouth tilt upward, “I’ll eat you only with one condition.” Suguru paused, almost drooling over your appetizing snack. “Who’s this guy you like?”

You felt your face heat up, “why do you wanna know-ahh!” Suguru slid his hot tongue up your pussy causing a delectable sensation to overcome your train of thought.

“Sorry couldn’t help myself,” Geto gave a mischievous smirk as he pulled a couple of inches away from your desperate cunt. “I only ask, because what Satoru and I are about to do to you… will cause you to lose interest in any other man you thought you liked.” Suguru stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Do you think you’ll still like him, after this?” Gojo asked while snaking his hand to your ass, gently squeezing your squishy flesh.

Their words slightly confused you. The way Geto phrased his statement and how Gojo asked that question; you couldn’t help but think that they might have deeper feelings for you. Otherwise, why worry about what you feel and who you like? You suddenly realized what tremendous power you had over them. “Mmh, I’ll tell you later.” You looked down at the men between your legs with a newfound confidence you didn’t know you had. “Also can you pass the blunt?” You flashed them a heart-stopping smile, rendering both Satoru and Suguru speechless.

“Here babe,” Satoru floated the blunt up to your lips with a tempting look in his hooded eyes. You inhaled as the smoke-filled your senses. Once you exhaled, the blunt sailed back down to Satoru’s lips. It was all so clear now, you felt like a queen atop her throne, looking down at her peasants. You felt it in your soul that both Gojo and Geto had deeper intentions for you, and the thought of that made your ego skyrocket.

With that being said, Suguru leaned forward and plunged his sneaky tongue inside of you. Pleasure shook you to your core and you instinctively clenched around him. He twirled his tongue around inside of you as his nose brushed against your clit deliciously. He retracted his tongue and smooched your clit hungrily, gently sucking and swiveling around your delicate bud in the process. His hot mouth drove you wild and amazing pleasure clouded your senses.

Satoru grew impatient even though Suguru had just started to devour you. Therefore, he leaned forward and began to kiss and suck on the inside parts of your thighs. While his kisses trailed up and down your leg, you felt his hand roughly fondle your ass.

Suguru focused on pleasuring your clit, he sweetly sucked on your sensitive bundle of nerves, which made you writhe around in delight. Small cute gasps escaped your lips while he snacked on you. You felt one of his long fingers gently prod your damp opening. Geto felt his dick rage upwards upon feeling your wet readiness.

“Can I finger you?” Suguru asked you sweetly. You looked down to see his handsome face at your core. The way his dark narrowed eyes locked with yours, and how his long hair messily fell in front of his face. Made you feel incredibly needy between your legs. It’s as if he had some sort of enchantment over you.

“Yes, but be gentle.” You blushed shyly while enjoying the way Gojo was massaging your plump ass cheeks. Satoru gave you a devilish sneer while he snaked the hand that was on your ass to your upper back. He expertly undid your bra with one hand, and your tits bounced free. Both Gojo and Geto eyed your breasts as if they were the most wondrous things they’d ever laid their eyes on.

Suguru then rested his mouth back onto your clit as he gingerly inserted the tip of his index finger inside of you. He went in ever so slowly until he was knuckles deep. Despite trying to relax, you couldn’t help but tense up at the stretch inside of you.

“It’s ok baby…” Suguru mumbled onto your clit, the vibrations from his voice felt scrumptious on your cunt. “Just relax. It’ll feel better soon.” He cooed as he gradually slid his finger out of you and it felt you could breathe again. But the time of having his finger out of you was short-lived when he stuck it back in lazily. This time the pain wasn’t as prominent, it helped that Geto was softly sucking your clit in the process.

Suguru knew that he’d have to prepare you thoroughly until the time came for you to take his and Satoru’s dick. The way your walls clenched around his finger, made his cock leak more precum down his shaft. He made sure to be extra careful with your virgin pussy when he started to pump his index finger into you at a quicker pace. As his plunging finger increased in speed you couldn’t help but feel excited. The ache of pain was still there, but you were able to move past that point. Now the natural sensation of pleasure was becoming more prominent.

“How does it feel?” Geto asked while giving your pussy sloppy kisses.

“It feels better.” You sighed, now being able to relax onto his mouth and hand a bit more easily.

“Good. Satoru, care to join me?” Suguru asked while taking his mouth off of your core, his lips were shiny from the mixture of your arousal and his saliva. Gojo perked his head up from off your thighs, you glanced down to see the masterpiece of hickeys he left on your thigh.

Satoru brought his right hand up to your face, “Suck ‘em.” He ordered and you obediently obliged. His pointer and index fingers invaded your mouth. You greeted his digits with your tongue as you sucked them off graciously. He playfully lodged his fingers down your throat, and to your surprise, you took them without a problem. Earning a pleased smile from the white-haired man. Once his fingers were well coated with your saliva, he removed them from your mouth. He placed his index finger at your entrance, right next to Geto’s.

“Ready?” Suguru asked you with a genuine smile.

You nodded anxiously, and with that, both men simultaneously inserted their pointer fingers inside of you. The stretch was more noticeable than Suguru’s single finger, which caused slight unpleasantness. However, the pain vanished once you started to focus on the erotic feeling have having both men finger you. You leaned back in the air to get more comfortable. You felt yourself saturate onto their pumping fingers, the extra lubricant helped them set into a faster rhythm. Small sighs of satisfaction escaped from your mouth once they sped up.

“Shit, she’s so wet.” Groaned Satoru as he shoved his finger into you extra deep, earning a sultry whine to come from you.

“Mmm, you like it when it goes deep?” Gojo muttered while deliberately pumping his finger into you while Geto pulled his finger out. This new sensation of their fingers repeatedly plowing into you, made you clench around them needily.

Geto’s finger in. Gojo’s finger out. Gojo’s finger in. Geto’s finger out. This rhythmic pattern collided into your core forcefully. You felt entirely euphoric at the overwhelming pleasure.

You felt Suguru’s free hand reach up to lightly caress your breasts. His fingers focused on your erect nipples as he teased and played with them. Satoru brought up his other hand to stroke your clit. He rubbed it around in little circles, causing you to become an overstimulated mewling mess. Having both men worship you felt incredibly sensual. Even though experiencing pleasure with more than one person is considered taboo, this entire situation felt entirely perfect.

“I need to taste her,” Gojo grunted as he removed his hands from your privates. Suguru leaned over to kiss your thigh, giving his friend a chance to eat you. Gojo didn’t pass up on the opportunity and dove right into you. He hungrily snacked on your dripping cunt, you felt his tongue slither along your lips. You tasted heavenly to him, he slurped up your wet arousal. He had a wicked tongue and plunged it into you at an incredibly fast speed. He flicked his tongue up inside of you, which caused more sparks of electricity to run through your veins. “Oh! Satoru!” You whimpered out. What had he just done?

You felt him smile cockily against your privates, “you like that?” He mumbled while keeping his blue glowing eyes locked with yours.

“Mhh-hmm.” You affirmed nodding your head. He zapped his tongue over that spot inside of you briefly, but then he teasingly pulled away. Earning an annoyed glare from you. “Keep going.” You whined, giving him your best pleading look.

“Oh?” Gojo hummed, as he gave your slippery cunt a ravishing kiss. “I think I want to hear you moan my name a couple more times before I do.”

“You’re arrogant Satoru.” Geto chided while leaving loving hickeys on your left thigh, mirroring Gojo’s.

“Shut the fuck up, and don’t be jealous when Y/n cums on my face instead of yours.” Satoru snarked as he plunged his tongue back into your pussy. He scooped his tongue inside of you, loving the way you’d squirm under his mouth.

“Mmh-Satoru…” You moaned when you felt him reach that delectable spot inside of you. He used a bit more force, which roused more pleasure within your core. “Gojo, please-“ he pounded his tongue against your G-spot relentlessly. You instinctively tried to close your thighs together, but both men between your legs prevented that. You had no idea that having Gojo eat you would feel so… incredible. Like a flash of lightning, you felt yourself release onto Satoru’s greedy tongue. He drank you enthusiastically while stroking his lengthy rod.

Suguru forcefully moved Satoru away from your core so he could steal a taste of your delicious nectar. His hot and skilled tongue easily slipped into your cunt. He slurped what was left of you and then he grabbed your waist and pulled you down into his lap.

“I can’t take it anymore, I need to be in her now.” Growled Suguru, as he positioned your petite body down to his raging dick.

Your body rejected his actions and hovered over to Satoru’s lap, “Who decided that you’d take her virginity? I want to.” Gojo retorted with an arched brow, as his iridescent eyes glowed blue. He possessively wrapped his arms around you.

Geto directed his attention towards you and gave you a heated kiss. “You want me to do it? Or him?” You could taste yourself on his lips.

Due to how buzzed and turned on you were, it honestly didn’t matter who did the deed at this point. “Someone just fuck me now. Flip a damn coin if you guys want.” Your soft voice spoke out in the steamy hotboxed room.

“Good idea.” Satoru purred, as he dug in his pocket to pull out a shiny silver coin. “If it’s heads I get to take her virginity, but you get to finish in her. If it’s tails you take her virginity and I get to cum in her.” Gojo exclaimed, then handing the coin over to you. “Care to do the honors babe?” He gently nibbled on the crook of your neck, earning delightful shivers to crawl up your spine.

You took the coin from Satoru’s large palm and flicked it with your thumb. It shot into the air vertically and you caught it with your right hand. You opened your palm to reveal, heads.

Satoru gave your waist a celebratory squeeze, “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t get carried away Satoru,” Geto advised, rolling his eyes with a wry smile. He decided to prepare himself another blunt since he wouldn’t be enjoying you at the moment.

Gojo knew exactly what position he wanted you to be in when you took his dick for the first time. He shimmied his pants and boxers off, while simultaneously taking his shirt off. You felt his skilled hands then pull your wet underwear off and down your legs. He turned you around in his lap so you straddled him, like the way he had you before. You couldn’t help but admire his lean and toned body. You felt him rub the head of his cock against your slick entrance. However, instead of shoving it in like you were anticipating, he crashed his lips against yours feverishly. You kissed him back eagerly and held onto his broad shoulders for balance. His tongue tangled with yours passionately, all while you felt him slowly inch the head of his dick inside of you. This time it wasn’t as painful, probably because you got fingered thoroughly.

Excitement overcame your senses while the two of you made out, your needy little pussy wanted to feel more of Gojo’s long rod. Therefore, you lowered yourself a bit further down onto his sprung dick. Satoru gasped with surprise when you took the initiative, he was exceptionally pleased, to say the least. You felt his infamous smile against your lips as his left hand gripped your plump ass firmly. He was about two inches inside of you. Now you were able to feel the slight sting of being stretched. You pushed the feeling aside and felt confident enough to take more. Your breath hitched, and it felt like the room was getting hotter. You glanced over at Geto who eyed you seductively with the blunt between his lips. He was watching you two with a lustful expression as he lazily jacked himself.

“Anxious aren’t we?” Gojo hummed, enjoying the snug squeeze that surrounded the upper part of his cock. With his other hand, he gripped your waist a bit more securely and forcefully brought the rest of his length inside of you. Pain struck you like a slap to the face, he was much too big for you. You tried to cry out in discomfort but no sound came out. As a reaction to the strain, you dug your nails into his shoulders. Knowing you’ll leave little crescent marks behind.

“She’s so fucking tight.” Satoru hissed out in pleasure, fully relishing in your comforting tightness. His lips collided with yours, he made sure to not move in you just yet. He brought his face over to your ear and whispered, “How are you holding up? Does it hurt?” He said almost tauntingly, his shimmering blue eyes looked at you friskily.

“You’re too big.” You mewled pathetically; as soon as those words left your mouth you felt his dick twitch up inside you. Earning a small whimper to come from your throat.

“Oh, dear. Regretting the consequences of your actions? Want me to stop?” He cooed with fake sympathy while giving your neck some love bites.

Your cheeks blushed, “N-no…” You murmured, “I want to go through with this.”

“Good girl.” Satoru hummed in the crook of your neck. He then pulled away to study the desperate look on your face. “No need to be insecure, you just need a little time to… adjust.” He lifted your waist so his cock exited your body. The second his shaft was out of you, you felt so empty. He then brought you back down onto his dick swiftly, filling you up completely.

This time you let out a pain and pleasure mixed moan. Gojo repeated the action to you again, you noticed he entered your pussy much easier this time. He set into a rhythm of pulling out entirely, and then sliding back into you. Each thrust was more pleasurable than the last, you felt yourself instinctually moisten around his intruding cock.

“Mmh, you’re getting so wet for me.” Satoru groaned softly, “I bet you couldn’t get this wet for the guy you like.” Gojo sneered while bullying his rod inside of you with a bit more force. This time you both moaned out in delight.

“Why should it matter if I like another guy? I’m having sex with you aren’t I?” You retorted breathlessly with slight annoyance.

“Oh, so should I feel honored that you’re letting me dick you down? Must mean you like me or something.” Satoru grinned at you cockily with a playful glint in his eyes.

You blushed, “What, no...” You gasped and tried to look away shyly. In response, Satoru gripped your throat roughly and angled your jaw so you looked at him. When he wrapped his hand around your neck, you couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling. Your pussy subconsciously squeezed his dick inside of you.

Satoru felt that and smirked at you knowingly through his clouded gaze, “What’s his name?” Without warning, picked up the pace and began to rapidly bounce you onto his elongated dick. He watched the look on your face change into one of pure bliss as he fucked you ruthlessly. “Is it me?” His cock ramming into you persistently made it hard for you to focus. “Or Suguru?”

“N-no. I don’t want to tell you. Mmh… Satoru!” Having him fuck you so vigorously made you go dumb with pleasure.

“Tell me.” Gojo eyed you, while he shoved his length into your wet heat. Loud moans escaped your lips as his heavenly dick claimed your pussy.

“Mmh! So good….” Was all you could muster up, while he pounded you with ease.

“Tell me,” Satoru repeated himself with a hint of strain in his voice. The grip he had on your throat tightened as he bounced you on his shaft with impressive speed.

“Yes! Keep… going.” You whined out wantonly, you could feel your walls clench around his rod with appreciation.

“Only if you tell me,” Gojo grunted, his pumping dick became erratic as he chased after his sick pleasure. The thought of fucking you in front of his friend boosted his ego tenfold. He was in love with your sexy moans. Especially the way your slick and tight pussy felt, you took his dick so perfectly. He didn’t care if he made it obvious that he had deeper feelings for you. He knew if he fucked you good enough, you’d have no choice but fall for him. He’ll make you forget that other guy you liked.

The incredible ecstasy Satoru made you feel caused uncontrollable tears of desire to spill from your eyes. Never in your life have you felt such amazing euphoria. You could feel your release boiling to the surface.

“You cryin’?” Satoru mocked, while he relentlessly hammered his elongated dick up inside of you. “So it must be me then, huh?” He grunted with a smug look on his face. His white hair fell messily in his reddened eyes. Knowing that he had you crying because of his cock made pride well up in his chest.

All you could do in response was shake your head ‘no’. You didn’t want Satoru to know the truth, especially if he got it out of you in such a lewd manner. When you planned on confronting your feelings, you didn’t expect the truth to come out through a brutal fucking.

“Perhaps let me have a try? I think I can get the truth out of her.” Suguru spoke out, reminding you that he was still watching the both of you.

“Go ahead. I’m about to cum anyways.” Gojo traded you for the blunt that was in Geto’s fingers. He floated you off of his glorious dick without hesitation and directed your body over to Geto. You immediately missed the way Satoru was fucking you, but you were also looking forward to having Suguru inside of you.

Suguru reached up to embrace you on his lap sweetly. You noticed that he was still fully clothed. You hastily tugged at the hem of his shirt. He got the idea and popped his top off with a dashing smirk. You couldn’t help but blatantly admire his muscular physique.

Speaking your thoughts a quiet “fuck me.” Came from under your breath.

Geto was also cherishing your small naked body hovering over his, “You’re so impatient.” He eyed you while the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “If that’s what you want-” Suguru then lunged forward with you scooped up in his arms. He swiftly laid you down on the couch and situated himself between your thighs. “Then that’s what you’ll get.” Without warning he shoved his long and eager cock inside of your hot cunt.

The overwhelming feeling of being filled up made you arch your back in delight. “Oh! Yes!” You cried out in satisfaction.

Suguru groaned softly in your ear, you felt so slick and inviting for him. “You feel amazing.” He then gave the shell of your ear a tantalizing kiss.

Due to how saturated and horny you were, Geto didn’t have to hold back or wait for you to get used to his dick. He gently guided your legs over his shoulders and plowed into you furiously. His toned hips slapped against your smooth thighs, causing clapping sounds to fill the room. You two fit so well together, it’s as if your body was made for his.

“Shit, Satoru got you so fucking wet.” He hissed under his breath. Suguru never looked so handsome; the way his sultry narrowed eyes looked down at you with approval made you wetter if that was even possible. His long hair fell in front of his face to form a cascading curtain that shielded you from Satoru’s hungry gaze. Suguru surrounded you, his entire being dominated your senses, and you felt high off his glorious presence.

“It’s me isn’t it?” Geto muttered while bringing his hand down to your clit. He rubbed fast circles over your sensitive bud, making you writhe underneath him in delight.

“Oh! Suguru!” You whimpered out, the combination of his pumping rod inside of you and his teasing fingers made your pussy squelch him deliciously. Geto couldn’t help but let out a small groan of pleasure in return.

“I’m the guy you like, aren’t I?” He murmured while increasing his speed. You weren’t able to look away or avoid his gaze, so you closed your eyes and focused on his perfect dick. “Look at me,” Geto commanded as he slowed his thrusts down into sloppy ones. "Tell me you're mine."

With his speed dying down, it brought you back to reality. “I'm yours! Now, fuck me Suguru!” You whined, desperately moving your hips against his, yearning for more friction.

“I am.” He winked down at you with a devilish grin. He set into a steady rhythm of shoving his lengthy cock inside of you nice and deep. Even though his thrusts were prolonged, he still had so much power behind each one. Your whole body shook every time he came back into you.

You were able to hear the gushy slick sound of his dick entering and exiting from your cunt. If someone were to walk by the dorm’s door, they would know what exactly was going on. Those lewd noises filled the room along with the smoke from Satoru’s blunt.

“Satoru, her mouth looks like empty. Better come fill it.” Geto stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as he leaned back onto his knees. You immediately missed the closeness of having Suguru on top of you. But having Suguru pump into you at this angle was quite enjoyable. He kept your legs resting on his shoulders as he pounded into you vigorously.

Satoru got to his knees next to your head and brought his girth to your lips. “Open up dear,” Gojo asked almost sweetly, he gently placed his hands on your head and guided the head of his cock to your mouth. You opened for him and sucked his tip, you felt him push more of his length into your mouth. Soon enough he was down your throat while you choked on him. You did your best to calm your breath, but it seemed difficult. Especially when Suguru would ram into you forcefully, causing your whole body to move. Each thrust from Getou would make Gojo’s dick jostle in your throat roughly. It felt too suffocating, yet so arousing at the same time.

Gojo was much too big for you, and it didn’t help when you would feel his tip twitch down your throat with delight. “Keep it there. Just like that.” He groaned softly while eyeing you with ratification.

Geto’s thrusts began to get more erotic. He pumped his hips against the back of your thighs, causing loud slaps to echo through the room. His lengthy cock rammed into you persistently, you soon realized that you liked getting fucked rough. It felt extremely heavenly each time he slid back into you. You became breathless as he plowed into you rabidly.

You looked so ravishing in Suguru’s eyes, you took his dick excellently, all while deep-throating Gojo. He knew that you were on the verge of release, and wanted to make sure you came together. Yet, another side of him wanted to make things a little more interesting.

“If you cum within ten thrusts you gotta tell us who you like.“ Suguru instructed while admiring the way your breasts would bounce each time he plowed into you.

“Anh-m. I dnh-“ you tried to say through Gojo’s meaty dick. Satoru pulled his cock out of your comfortable throat, so the tip of his penis rested against your lips. His rod was slick with your saliva. “And if I don’t?” You flashed Geto a playful smile.

“Daring aren’t you? Trust me, you will.” Suguru chuckled, “But if you happen not to, then we can drop the question. And you can pick our punishment. Deal?”

“D-“ Satoru cut you off while he impatiently shoved his dick back in your throat. He loved the way he could see the outline of his penis in your neck.

“Sorry hun, but if you don’t swallow all my cum, then you’ll owe me another round at my place.” Satoru winked down at you flirtatiously.

“Mmh-hmm.” You hummed with agreement. Gojo then leaned forward to grab a hold of one of your nipples to tease.

“Okay let’s start the countdown.” Suguru stated with a hazed look in his eyes, “Ten…” He slammed his cock into your dripping cunt deliciously, causing you to moan onto Gojo’s dick shamelessly.

“Nine…” Suguru’s long fingers swiveled over your clit briskly, while he kissed your right ankle that was resting on his broad shoulder.

“Eight…” Geto’s thrusts were quick and decisive, making your pussy squelch him with an intense neediness.

“Seven…” He grunted out, Suguru was on the verge of release but he knew he could wait it out until you came first.

“Six…” Satoru’s left hand gripped your hair tightly, while his other hand was big enough to fondle both of your nipples at once; sending waves of delight to your core.

“Five…” Gojo fucked your throat with a sense of urgency now, he was getting close and couldn’t wait to feed you.

“Four…” Geto’s dick hit your G-spot with intense precision and your walls fluttered around him with ecstasy.

“Three…” So close, you were so close you were able to see stars. The stimulation from Suguru’s plunging dick and Gojo’s teasing fingers, made mewls of pleasure come from your throat and around Satoru’s girth.

“Two…” You couldn’t take it anymore, the way Suguru pounded against your sensitive spot relentlessly sent you over the edge and you drenched his cock in your release. You held nothing back and unleashed the waterfall that you held within you.

“One…” Geto groaned out, as he filled you to the brim with his seed. You were able to feel him shoot his massive load up against your cervix, knowing that it would reach your womb in no time.

“Shit… get ready to drink it all babe,” Satoru growled out while plunging his shaft down your throat one last time. His thrusting hips came to a stop as a copious amount of his juice filled your mouth. You felt his hot liquid squirt down your throat sporadically. You did your best to swallow it all, but his seed filled your mouth faster than you could drink. Small strands of his milky white cum slid out from the corners of your lips and down your chin quickly.

“Aww too bad, you were so close,” Geto uttered breathlessly, as he slowly pulled his length from your drenched cunt. He couldn’t help but watch in pride as his cum mixed with your release flooded out of your pussy like a burst dam. You felt it run down your bubbly ass cheeks and onto the couch cushions below you.

Satoru gingerly removed his softening cock from your mouth, his time well spent. “It looks like you owe me a round two back at my place.” He smirked down at you as he wiped some of his cum off of your chin with his thumb. He brought his finger to your mouth and you obediently licked it clean. His gaze was full of pride and approval. The redness in his eyes was less prominent, meaning he must be sobering up already.

“I look forward to it.” You eyed him briefly while hunching up on your elbows. Even though you lost both bets you felt as if you were on cloud nine.

“So do you still have feelings for that guy?” Suguru asked inquisitively, as he helped you sit up on the couch.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, “Yeah, I do.”

A flash of disappointment flickered in Satoru’s eyes, “even after that?” His voice sounded slightly insecure.

“As you said, I’ve lost interest in other men.” You glanced toward Getou’s warm gaze, then you shifted your sight over to Satoru, whose blue eyes glinted towards yours.

“So you like Suguru and I?” Gojo eyed you curiously.

You nodded hesitantly, “Yeah, the ‘guy’ I like is you two.” You nervously glanced between them both. “You’re not planning on using me, right?” You asked trying to hide the wavering in your voice.

“Of course not,” Satoru was quick to answer, “the truth is, shortly after getting to know you I admitted to Suguru that I wanted to be more than just friends with you. And he thought the same.”

Your heartbeat increased, “really?” Your mousy voice was barely audible.

“So I proposed an ultimatum,” Suguru replied, “because we both had deeper intentions with you… I felt like it would be fair if you decided which one of us you wanted to pursue. And we weren’t allowed to straight up ask you out or make a move on you, unless you did first.”

You let out a small laugh, “wow you two might’ve had to wait forever because of how timid I can be.”

Suguru chuckled and gripped your thigh softly, “Yeah, good thing we got you high enough to ask us how to kiss.”

“That’s right! All of this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t ask.” Satoru smirked while draping his arm over your shoulders comfortably.

You gave both men your gorgeous smile, “So as long as I can say I belong to you both, do what you want with me.”

Surugu leaned down to press his lips against yours, “You should’ve asked us how to kiss sooner.”

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