#his word choice and tone are so great

[doubledyke]

man i feel like eddy doesn't get enough credit for how funny he is

[hiraethwrote]

i've always known - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: you'd known each other since childhood, growing as close as two people could grow. there was not anything you didn't do together. but life doesn't always cooperate, creating hurdles even for the most tightknit relations ✧ cw: [MDNI] childhood best friends, afab!reader, college au, fluff!!, ofc some angst sprinkled in here, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, arguing, slightly ooc satoru maybe you be the judge, jealousy, poorly written eventual smut (be patient), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, no use or y/n ✧ word count: 17.0k (yikes sorry)

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You were six years old when you met him for the first time.

“Be nice and say hi, sweetie,” your mom spoke softly, only making you squeeze her hand harder and hide behind her.

“Hi,” you said more quiet than a whisper, if that was even possible, looking at the two strangers that had made themselves known.

But it wasn’t the unknown woman that had you so nervous, she seemed kind enough. It was the little boy next to her, a mop of crystal white hair hanging above his piercing blue eyes that were staring directly at you. With his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, he flashed you a toothless grin.

“Hello, I’m Satoru,” his tone chipper, almost like the line was rehearsed. You only stared at him with eyes big as globes before turning towards your mom again.

“Mooom,” you nagged, pulling at her sleeve. “Can we go back inside?”

“In a minute,” she reassured you before turning towards the strangers. “I’m sorry, the moving has been a lot for her,” she chuckled nervously, but the unknown lady only smiled at her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed kindly before turning to you. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other with time.” She shot you a friendly wink, but you only shrunk further being your mom’s leg. Instinctively, she began to rub comforting circles on your back.

“We have no doubt,” she answered for you.

Still feeling Satoru’s eyes on you, you turned to him again. Instantly your eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, not understanding why he was still staring at you, like you were some kind of weirdo.

“I really came by to invite your family over for dinner tomorrow. Wish you welcome to the neighbourhood.” Your mother instantly beamed at the request.

“That’s so nice. We’d love too, right honey?” Shifting the focus to you again. You only shrugged, not daring to look away from the strange boy.

“Great. Just drop by anytime after five and we’ll be home.” The genuine smile only amplified the woman’s already gorgeous face.

Your mom broke the intense staring competition you had with Satoru with a slight shake of the hand. “Why don’t you tell them your name?”

Looking between the two strangers standing on your porch, you shyly mumbled your name, earning you another smile from the boy. What was his deal?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Why don’t you show her your room, Satoru?” The man you assumed to be his dad had said nearly the second your family had stepped into their home.

You’d given your parents a pleading look, begging them to come to your rescue seeing as you were already attending the dinner against your will. With stern glares, you knew you had no choice but to follow Satoru.

With a safe distance behind him, you reluctantly followed him up the stairs, which lead to a door at the end of the long hallway. He was clearly a well mannered kid, surprising you as he actually held the door open for you to enter first.

Small steps lead you into his bedroom and your eyes instantly grew big in awe at the sight of the huge bedroom. It was probably twice the size of yours, filled with all the toys you could imagine. Strengthening your envy was the queen sized bed in the corner of his room, because you had always been told that big beds like that were for grown ups only.

But what captured your full attention was the bookshelves in the opposite side of the room filled with manga from the floor to the ceiling. Shuffling over to them, you let your eyes travel over the familiar titles, spotting all your favourite stories.

“Are all of these yours?” You asked, turning to see him already looking at you with his hands in his pockets. He simply nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face to reveal deep dimples on each side of his face.

Unfair, you thought to yourself. What you would give to have stacked shelves like that, so you’d be able to pick up a new manga the second you’d finished another one.

“How old are you?” The random question made you turn to look at him again, his pride shifted into curiosity with his head tilted.

“Six.” He instantly scrunched his nose, seriously unhappy with your answer.

“Hmm,” he scoffed, looking down at his feet. His reaction couldn’t help but offend you, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. “‘S not fair,” he mumbled as he kicked his feet.

“What isn’t fair?” You whined, drawing his eyes back to you.

“Well, I’m eight,” he complained, but that alone didn’t explain his tone. “So why are you taller than me?” Blinking at him in surprise, a small giggle began to take over your grumpiness. “It’s not funny!”

If your parents had seen you giggle in response to someone clearly upset, you would have earned yourself a strict scowl and a lesson when you got home. Lucky for you, they were downstairs mingling with their new neighbours, so the childish giggle came bursting out of you, causing your to slap both your hands over your mouth to contain yourself.

He knew you were teasing him, but he found himself enjoying the sound of your laugh a little too much to stay upset, his shoulders sinking and eyebrows raising in delight. A subtle blush dusted over his cheeks when he began to think he might just be a little smitten by you already.

Nonetheless, it was the start of your friendship. Throughout the dinner, the two of you held a never ending conversation, which surprised your parents considering how hostile you’d been to even the idea of getting to know the young boy next door.

Both of you put up a fight when it was time for you to leave once the clock had passed nine on a school night. You eventually had to settle for seeing each other again tomorrow. Still so excited to have a new friend, you couldn’t help but tell your parents everything you and Satoru had talked about.

“And he even said I could borrow his mangas if I wanted to!”

“That’s great, honey, but you really have to go to bed now!” Your mom chuckled as she followed you into the bedroom and tucked you in. “Why don’t you tell me the rest tomorrow, hm?” You nodded eagerly, before she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and wishing you good night before leaving your bedroom with the door slightly ajar.

You wanted to drift into sleep, but you couldn’t find it in your body to rest. So like so many other nights, you walked over to your shelves to find something to read. You didn’t manage to get that far, when something outside your window caught your eye. Curiously making your way over, you climbed up on the stool, only to be staring right at Satoru standing in his own window directly across from yours.

It didn’t take long for him to spot you, instantly waving at you with his entire arm. With the same toothless grin you’d been greeted with the previous day, you waved back at him immediately before climbing back into bed more than satisfied.

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You were ten years old the first time he got grounded because of you.

Over the years, you’d just grown closer and closer for each time you hung out, which was pretty much every day. It was just a given that you would see each other at one point or another throughout the day. And if, for some odd reason, you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet up, you would catch up in the evening from your windows.

There was not a doubt that you two had become best friends. His house felt like a second home, nearly spending more time there than your own home.

Sadly, Satoru’s classmates didn’t think it was cool for him to hang out with someone who was ten. Unlike them, you were a child… and a girl, which meant you brought cooties

“Waiting for your boyfriend,” a taunting voice cooed as it gradually came closer, capturing your attention to meet three boys you recognised from Satoru’s class.

“Not my boyfriend,” you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to give them the attention they so desperately wanted. Turning away from them, you tried to ignore their rapid approach. But before you knew it, they had you surrounded.

“You know, he doesn’t really like hanging out with you.” Glaring daggers at the boy standing right in front of you, you chewed the inside of your cheek in an attempt not to let him get to you. “He’s got better things to do than hang out with stupid girls.”

You tried to cling onto the advice your mother had told you time and time again; if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. But in this moment, that seemed like the worst possible advice. Why should you just stand there and take it when they were throwing all these mean words at you?

“You’re just upset you can’t get anyone to talk to you!” Your voice was venomous, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on him as they only snickered in response.

“Think you’re funny?”

“Just leave me alone!” You fired back, challenging his patronising look at you. For a few seconds, he held your stare before he launched forward and yanked your manga right out of your tiny hands. “Hey! Give it back!” Despite being as tall as the dumb boy, he managed to keep it just out of your reach, no matter how far you tried to stretch for it.

“I’m just having a look,” he laughed as he began to recklessly flip through the pages. From each side of you, you could hear both of his friends laugh to egg him on.

Panting and whining, you tried to reach for your book, but froze in place when you heard the sound of paper ripping. Staring at the manga in his hands, you saw how he had started to tear crumbled pages from the spine. With fake sincerity, he squeaked a small “ops” and continued to laugh. Unable to peer your eyes away from your favourite manga in pieces, the tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. “Awe, are you crying?”

The tears didn’t have time to fall, when a familiar figure came zooming in front of you and crashing into your bully, instantly knocking him to the ground, causing him to scrape his knee. While he kept squirming on the ground, Satoru instantly snatched the book from his hands.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Satoru growled at the boy as he stumbled back on his feet, blood steaming through his torn jeans. His brows were narrowed in pure anger, telling you he was about to retaliate towards your friend, but Satoru sported a stern posture and a look that one would be stupid to defy.

Soon enough, it seemed like the pain set in after a few seconds, and the anger in his eyes turned glossy, trying to hide the fact that his bottom lip was quivering and his nostrils were flaring like he was about to cry.

Satoru shot an ugly glare at the two other boys, who didn’t seem sure what to do with themselves. “You want to taste the gravel as well?” Satoru threatened, the three boys sharing a worrying look. It didn’t take long before they decided to scatter with their tail between their legs. The boy who’d ruined your book, trying to conceal a limp but failing terribly.

The second they had their backs turned to you, Satoru turned his full attention to you with a softened expression, genuinely worried. “You okay?” He hurried to ask, scanning you from top to toe to see if there were any visible injuries. However it was only your pride, and your manga, that was wounded.

Looking down at his hands, the tears came back right away at the scene of the mangled book.

“I’m fine,” you said under your breath, eyes still glued to the manga. Struggling to find the right words to comfort you, his eyes jumped between your glistening eyes and the torn book in his hands.

“I have this one at home! You can have mine, I never liked it anyway,” he rambled as he began to wave the book around, growing more uncomfortable as he saw the small tears roll down your red and puffy cheeks. “And don’t worry about them! They’re just stupid! And jealous. And, and-“ his frantic words stopped in his throat, forming into a nervous lump when you flicked your eyes up to meet his.

Despite the redness in them and the sniffling of your nose, he couldn’t help but think you looked pretty. Which only made him feel even worse, that someone could be so cruel to you.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly, wiping away the snot and tears from your face. “Thank you for stopping them.” In defeat, you grabbed the manga out of his hands and stuffed it into your backpack, not caring if you ruined it any further.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, and you began to walk home like usual.

The walk home was mostly quiet, Satoru not daring to say anything, not knowing what to say. He wanted to help, make you feel better, but all the things that popped into his head just felt like it wouldn't be enough. So when you reached your house, you simply waved him goodbye before disappearing.

Once he entered his own home, his parents were on his neck instantly. They were furious, because they’d received an angry phone call from a distraught parent explaining how Satoru had purposely attacked their son.

Satoru had tried to explain the situation and defend himself, saying he couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. Somehow, the heroic gesture didn’t seem to outweigh when the kid had walked home with a bloody knee, bawling his eyes out.

“You never resort to violence, Satoru,” his father had yelled at him, before they told him he was grounded for a week. Satoru was speechless. He had never been grounded before, and he didn’t understand why he was being punished when he firmly believed he had done the right thing.

Unable to defend himself further, he stomped to his room and started his homework like he had been told to do. He didn’t get much work done though, as he mostly moped the entire evening, neurotically tapping his pen against the textbook.

You, much like Satoru, spent the entire evening in your bedroom. For the first two hours, you just laid in your bed, sulking. Eventually you wanted to talk to someone — not just someone, Satoru. You made your way to the windowsill, waiting for him to show. And you waited. And waited. And waited some more.

It wasn’t until you were about to head to bed you saw his silhouette cracking open the window slowly. Jumping up, you opened your window immediately. “I’ve been waiting all afternoon!”

“Shhh, you gotta keep it down,” he said softly, barely able to hear him. “I’m not allowed to talk to you right now.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?” Leaning forward in the window frame, resting your head on your forearms.

“I’m grounded,” he shrugged, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one came to check in on him.

“For what?”

“Because I shoved him. He ran like a crybaby, making it seem worse than it was.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, so incredibly frustrated by the outcome.

“Really? I can explain what happened to your parents-“ he waved his hands out the window to stop you.

“I tried. They were quite upset. But it’s no big deal. It’s just a week.”

“So, I won’t be able to see you for a week?” You complained, to which he only looked at you with big eyes. It hadn’t really hit him that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you while he was grounded, which only made this terrible situation even worse.

Pursing his lips in thought, he opened his mouth again to speak. “Guess we’ll just have to be sneaky with window meetings at night,” he laughed, making you laugh along as well.

“I guess so.”

“I gotta go to bed before mom and dad finds me talking to you,” he sighed. “So, guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Before he managed to shut his window, you called his name again.

“Hey, Satoru?” Looking back at you with big eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you for today. It really meant a lot!”

Looking at your glowing gratitude, he did not regret his actions for a single second. He even knew, should the opportunity arise, he would not hesitate to defend you again. He’d risk all the punishment in the world if it meant having you looking at him like that again.

“Good night, ‘Toru,” you smiled sweetly, his heart doing a small flip at the sound of his new nickname.

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You were fifteen years old when Satoru finally grew passed you.

And once he passed you, it seemed like he never stopped. It wasn’t just you he passed, it was all his peers as well. And as he grew, so did his ego to match it. Of course, this also resulted in him endlessly teasing you.

“Imagine you used to be taller than me,” he laughed and placed his hand on top of your head.

“Yeah, and you’re the only one who cares,” you sighed, swiftly removing his hand from your head.

This all happened about the time you started high school, something Satoru had looked forward to since he himself first started high school. It finally gave you a chance to hang out during school hours, as you’d mostly been restricted to your classrooms in lower grades. He was also excited to introduce you to the small life he had there, which previously had been separated from you.

There was no doubt that Satoru Gojo, along with his small crew, were insanely popular. They basically ruled the school and they all welcomed you with open arms.

So, by association, you too became popular.

You fitted into his group perfectly, getting along with both Shoko and Suguru pretty much right of the bat. So he shouldn’t really have been complaining — except for the unforeseen circumstances that came with other people finally noticing you.

Ever since you were young, you hadn’t made a huge number of yourself, remaining somewhat anonymous, happy doing your only thing. Satoru had basically been your only friend. He knew he could never mention it to anyone, but he really enjoyed having you all to himself.

So when he noticed all the lingering looks you received just walking down the hall, some unfamiliar anger began to take shape in him.

Pretty much from your first day, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates. Who’s your friend? Is she single? Why aren’t you dating her? Will you introduce me? It got old real fast, and Satoru only found himself growing more and more frustrated by it, coming up with silly excuses to lead them in the opposite direction.

“Yeah, no, she’s- uhm, she’s single but her dad promised her a car if she doesn’t date ‘til she’s eighteen.”

They all gave him the same weird look. “If you’re seeing her, just say so.”

“No! We’re just friends!” He always rushed to defend himself, which always earned him a roll of their eyes before they shrugged off his weird behaviour. Lucky for him, his reputation saved him from anyone pushing it any further.

Despite his best efforts to keep guys at bay, there were still a few headstrong individuals who didn’t care about Satoru’s lame excuses or status, they still tried to pursue you. So to fend them off, he had other ways to make you seem unapproachable; excessive physical touch.

You never thought twice about it, as he had never been a stranger to physical touch. It wasn’t unusual for him to throw his arm over your shoulders when walking, or fidget with your fingers when he needed something to stimulate his agitation. You’d gotten so used to it over the years, that you’d simply grown accustomed to it.

After a while, most of the guys in school seemed to get the message that you were off limits. The hassle of his consistent protection for you combined with his position in the school, it just wasn’t worth it — that was ignoring some of the most persistent seniors, but he only found their attempts amusing as you so obviously found them disgusting.

Nonetheless, with time he could deem himself satisfied with the lack of male attention you received.

“So you’re joining us this weekend right?” Suguru, one of Satoru’s close friends, asked during lunch. You only narrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. What you didn’t notice, was Satoru sitting beside you, furiously trying to stop Suguru from explaining further, glaring at him and waving his hands like a maniac.

“What’s this weekend?”

“Satoru didn’t tell you about the party?” A taunting smirk danced on his lips as he completely ignored Satoru’s disappointed glare. When you turned to question him, he immediately wiped off his disappointment and flashed you a shy smile.

“Party?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really planning on going so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to regain his ‘cool’ act.

“That’s not what you told us yesterday,” Shoko scoffed, a smirk matching Suguru’s plastered on her face.

It was in moments like these, you became incredibly aware of the age difference between the two of you. Sure, it was only two years, which you’d never thought much of — until you started high school. His interests and desires skewed in a more mature direction, which you weren’t necessarily ready for. It had become a lot more usual for him to go out with his friends during weekends. Even though he usually returned home early and met you at the window, it still sucked.

Did you want to go to the party? No, not really. But if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified of Satoru slipping away from you if you weren’t able to keep up with him. Besides, you only felt guilt at the thought that he might have changed his mind about going because of you. So what harm could it do to attend, even if it was for just an hour?

“I mean, if you want to go,” you trailed off, wanting so much to seem natural about it all. “I don’t wanna stop you.” With a small shrug, you were almost certain to managed to seem casual.

“So that’s a yes?” Shoko cheered quietly from the opposite side of the table.

“I guess so,” a small chuckle leaving your lips.

Satoru, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about you joining them as his friends. Nervously bouncing his leg under the table, he began to imagine all the things that could happen. He tried to tell himself the main reason he was so upset about the whole thing was that he was concerned something bad might happen, but in reality, he hated the idea of an arena for random dudes to hang over you all night.

You interrupted his spiralling when you suddenly raised from the table. “I have to run by the library before class,” you sighed before you rushed off, Satoru’s eyes never leaving you until you’d left the cafeteria.

“What is your deal?” Shoko laughed, drawing his attention back to the table. “Since when do you turn down a party, even if you leave after an hour?”

“I don’t know, just don’t think it’ll be her scene, that’s all,” he excused himself, picking at his food, suddenly not having an appetite anymore.

“I know you two, like, grew up together or whatever, and you have this strange need to protect her, but she’s able to take care of herself. You’ve seen how she talks to Fushiguro,” she laughed again.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, avoiding making eye contact with his friends.

“You remember what it was like to be a freshman. Things like these are exciting,” Suguru shot in. Satoru simply shrugged at his comment. “Look, we’ll all keep an eye on her. And you don’t drink anyways, so you’ll be more than sober enough to make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Satoru mumbled and stood up from his seat, still not looking at them. “I’ll see you guys later.”

And before you knew it, the weekend came rolling in and you found yourself clutching onto Satoru’s arm for dear life, scared you’d lose him in the crowd.

“We can leave if you want to,” he leaned down to say nearly the second you’d entered the house.

“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just… find Shoko and Suguru.”

It was a lot to take in. People singing and dancing, chugging drink after drink. But your nerves calmed down when you felt Satoru’s strong hands squeeze yours in reassurance. And once you found the others, your body just felt a lot more at ease. It didn’t take long for you to actually enjoy yourself, even though you decided to stay away from the alcohol, at least for this time.

What wasn’t as enjoyable, was all the female attention Satoru received throughout the evening. It was no secret he was a popular guy, girls lining up to talk to him. But when it came to the girls at school, they mostly just gawked and giggled while he innocently entertained their interests. No, these girls were different. They had clear intentions of taking it further, giving him looks you did not appreciate.

And it bothered you. Oh lord, how it bothered you.

Sitting so close to you, his leg pressed up against yours, you sadly got a front row view of when the girls leaned over and batted their long eyelashes at him, flashing him seductive smiles. You were beyond uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but scene taking place mere inches from you.

You had no reason to be upset — you were only friends and you’d only ever been friends. Never had the idea of anything else crossed your mind, but you hadn’t ever witnessed ladies glue themselves to him like this before.

“Hey, you okay?” Satoru interrupted your thoughts, turning over to see he was focused on you, the girl at his side quirking an eyebrow.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, a small smile drawing at your lips. He scanned your face, taking a deep sigh in thought, reading you so clearly.

Out of nowhere, Satoru jumped up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. He wore that award winning smile of his as he opened his mouth, “come on.”

A smile grew on your face to match his as you eagerly let him pull you off the couch before he playfully threw his arm over your shoulder, leading you out the living room. As you walked, you swore you could hear the girl he talked to earlier scoff.

“How does ice cream sound to you?” Looking down at you as he shielded out the tight crowd as he lead you out the door.

And as the two of you left the party, there was laughter on your lips and a genuine, special joy in your eyes you seemed to have reserved only for each other. Shoko and Suguru, however, kept a confused eye on you as you exited the house.

“I’ll never understand them,” Shoko shook her head, before turning to look at her friend who seemed just as frustrated by you and Satoru as she was. “I mean, they’re clearly into each other, right?”

Suguru exhaled sharply through his nose in what sounded like it was supposed to be a chuckle. “It’s weird if they aren’t.”

“When he talked about her before, I just figured they were best friends, like he said. But after meeting her and seeing them together-“

“No, I agree,” Suguru laughed before she was able to finish her sentence. “I’ve never seen ‘best friends’ act like they do.” Shoko nudged his side with her elbow to bring his attention to the girl Satoru had flirted with seconds before he had just stranded her alone on the couch, to see she was pouting, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door like she was waiting for him to return.

“Neither has she,” she laughed.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were seventeen years old the first time you had your heart broken. Really broken.

Standing outside your boyfriend — no scratch that. Standing outside what was now your ex boyfriend’s front door, you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened, silent tears falling slowly down your face.

It had come out of no where. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, and now he had suddenly come to the conclusion that you were no longer a good match? It made no sense.

Shaking your head as you took a deep breath, you knew there was only one person who might be able to help you feel a little better. Not to mention, he was probably the only person in the universe right now you could stand to see at all.

The fifteen minute walk from where you’d just had your heart stomped on to your neighbourhood had never felt longer. The silence that filled the dark and abandoned streets was numbing, leaving more room for the self deprecating thoughts to fill your mind. What had you done wrong? What could you have done differently? Was there someone else, someone prettier and funnier than you? Had you not been dedicated enough?

Despite the insane sadness that filled you, you thought if it were to happen, this weekend was probably the best timing, seeing as you wouldn’t have been able seek comfort had it happened any other time. Having taken a gap year after high school to earn money, Satoru worked a lot but he had for once gotten a weekend off. And his parents were out of town on some conference, meaning there was no risk of either of them opening the door to greet your grief struck face.

Soon enough you found yourself in front of the familiar front door, a tiny lump forming in your throat as you placed three soft knocks on the door. Before you knew it, Satoru stood right in front of you, his initial reaction of joy melting away once he processed you were upset.

“What happened?” His voice was so soft, eyes filled with worry.

“Can I come in?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah! Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you pass him and enter his home. “You want anything? Is this like an ice cream kinda situation, because I think we have some cookie dough flavoured in the freezer.”

A broken chuckle slipped out of you, followed by a sob. “No, thank you, I’m fine. Just needed to see you,” you sniffled furiously.

“Yeah, sure.” Without saying another word, you simply helped yourself up the stairs and to his bedroom. His eyes never left you as you carefully sat down on his bed and he sat down on his desk chair.

Uncomfortable wasn’t necessarily the word he’d use for seeing you like this, because it had happened before — just not very often. You’d always been a quiet charmer, if there was a way to describe it. Out of the two of you, he’d always been the loud and outgoing one, but he definitely saw you as the one who spread the most joy to those around you, a natural sense of cheerfulness radiating from you. Not to mention you were usually the one who stood for the comforting and advice, meaning he was at a loss on what to do.

“What happened?” He asked carefully.

“We broke up.” The words left you so quickly and easily, Satoru had to blink a few times to realise what you’d just said. “Or he broke up with me is probably more correct.” You avoided his gaze, staring directly at your hands tucked between your thighs, the tears leaving dark circles on your jeans.

“I thought things were going well.”

“So did I.” You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, still sniffling like crazy. “I know you never liked him and didn’t get along with him but I really liked him, y'know?”

A pang of guilt came crashing in over Satoru. He hadn’t been subtle about his dislike for your boyfriend, and it started before the two of you even became official. He did not miss the opportunity to throw a snide comment about him when you brought him up or constantly quarrel on the few occasions they were in the same room. But he couldn’t help it.

Satoru had been so focused on all the guys lining up for you in school, he hadn’t even thought of the boys that might find their way to you from elsewhere.

He still remembered the evening you came home from work at the coffeehouse, such a sweet smile on your face and a blush across your nose when he’d met you at the window that night. So giddy over this cute boy who’d chatted you up and ended up getting your number. Had Satoru known then he’d break your heart this badly, he’d tried harder to shut it down.

“I know I gave him a hard time, but I know you liked him,” he tried to comfort you. “And I’m certain he cared for you too. It’s hard not to.”

“Urgh, I’m such an idiot,” you cracked, hiding your face in your hands as the sobs just tumbled out in one steady stream.

“Hey,” Satoru said, rushing out of his chair to crouch in front of you. Tenderly he grabbed ahold of your wrists to remove them from your face, carefully trying to dry the tears away. “You’re not an idiot, okay?”

A small scoff made its way out of you between the sobs. “I’m not even sure he ever cared about me.”

When your name rolled off his tongue with more compassion than you’d ever heard from him before, your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Listen to me! I am certain he did. I know what you dedicated to that relationship, and he’d be crazy not to care for you. Not just crazy, but a damn magician as well because it’s genuinely impossible. Believe me, I know.” A small smile grew on his lips when he heard he was able to draw a small chuckle out of you. “You’re not an idiot. You just have a big heart. And he’s the idiot if he thinks he should let it go.”

He dried what seemed to be one of your last tears with his thumb, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His caring gaze traveled your face, taking in every detail he could when the memory from when you were kids popped into his mind. Just like that time, looking at you all red and puffy, he again found himself thinking you were pretty. Not just pretty — beautiful.

“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you whispered.

“Any time.”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Scandalous,” he said dramatically, earning him another shy smile from you. Both of you knew you didn’t have to ask, having slept over hundreds of time throughout the years.

“Who knew you were so good at this,” you smiled weakly as he stood up to go get the extra duvet he had in his closet, which was basically just an extra duvet for you.

“Pfft, I am Satoru Gojo after all. Is there anything I can’t do?” He flashed you a proud grin, instantly rolling your eyes at him.

“You’re not the greatest cook last time I che-“ before you were able to finish your sentence, a pillow came crashing into your face. A lighthearted giggle escaped you, and again Satoru felt his heart flutter a little, so pleased he’d managed to brighten your terrible evening a little bit.

“Watch it, sweetheart, or I’ll have you sleep on the floor.��

“You would never,” you smiled before grabbing one of Satoru’s t-shirts, like you always did, and headed for the bathroom.

Once you met your reflection in the mirror, your eyes grew as all the signs of tonight’s sorrow was incredibly visible on your face. And to think Satoru had seen you like this, knowing he’d tease you endlessly about it once things settled down and you could laugh about it all.

Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, mascara lines down your puffy cheeks. Still sniffling, you cleaned your face, dabbing a hot cloth in hopes you might redeem some of your dignity as you washed away your heartbreak. Looking in the mirror, a sigh left you knowing that this was probably as good as it was going to get. At least you didn’t have makeup smeared all over your face anymore.

Shuffling back into his bedroom, wearing his t-shirt nonetheless, a small lump formed in his throat at the sight of you as he had to fight the urge to let his eyes indulge in your entire figure. What was going on? A million times had you spent the night, and a million times had you gone to bed wearing his shirt, yet tonight felt different. He felt there was something in the air that had shifted, but it went unsaid. So without another word, he simply made his way passed you and to the bathroom. You, on the other hand, paid no attention to his odd behaviour, simply laying down on the bed on the side closest to the wall, your side.

Despite not picking up on his averted gaze, you too sensed there was something in the atmosphere that seemed different than usual, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what. You could easily just blame the breakup, which was definitely lingering in the air, but you knew that wasn’t quite it either. There was something in the tension that you felt were directly connected to Satoru.

When you felt his weight press down on the bed next to you, you reactively turned to look at him, surprised to see he was already laying on his side looking right back at you. Staring deeply into your eyes, you felt as if he was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t make it out.

Same went for Satoru, as he felt it deep down that there was something he needed to tell you but he had no idea what it was, only that it weighed heavier on him now that the evening had been so emotional and raw.

“‘Toru?”

“Hm?”

“What was it about him you didn’t like?” Satoru couldn’t help but smirk somewhat shamefully.

“It’s not important,” a slight chuckle slipping out of him.

“With a smile like that, you have to tell me.” Satoru readjusted his head on the pillow, ending up even closer to your face than intended but neither of you pulled away.

“Well, I like it best when I have you to myself.”

“Please,” you scoffed, tucking one of your hands under your cheek, carefully tilting forward a little. “That’s ridiculous, even for you.”

“No, I’m serious,” he gave you a sweet smile. “We’ve been so close for so long, it’s weird suddenly having to share you.”

You took a deep sigh, your heart skipping a small beat at his answer. “Well, I had to share you first.”

His eyebrows instantly pinched together into a frown, a humorous smirk on his lips. “Excuse me?”

“So you’ve forgotten when you first started high school? It was always ‘Suguru this’ and ‘Shoko that’.”

“That’s not the same,” he mocked you.

“How’s that not the same?” Offended at his disregard for your experience of him suddenly having a bigger social circle, you knew it was all in a playful manner.

“Because-” was all he managed to get out before you noticed his eyes betraying him as they quickly glanced down at your lips, before looking back into your eyes. Drawing a sharp breath, you swore you might be able to spot a strong blush heat his face, but it was too dark to tell for sure.

He exhaled a shaky breath, which you felt brush against your face making you realise just how close you were to each other.

All the hairs on your body stood up when you felt his light touch brush against your arm that was resting between you. Was this weird? You didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d touched you like this, so what was making tonight so different?

One slight movement and your noses would grace against each other. He could do it, he could just tilt his head forward and his lips would connect with yours and he was certain it would be delicious. Your eyes had captured his gaze, and he felt as if he could stare into them forever-

No, stop!

You flinched at his sudden movements when he pulled away to turn around, with his back facing you.

His heart sunk into his stomach, mentally cursing himself now that he wasn’t facing you anymore. He couldn’t believe he had actually wanted to kiss you, his best friend. It wouldn’t be right, especially not tonight when you were as vulnerable as you were. He’d be a complete asshole to take advantage of that. Not to mention how embarrassed he would have been in the morning when you weren’t trapped under the haze of heartbreak and would have realised how much of a mistake it had been.

“Good night,” he said in his usual, cheerful tone and the curse was broken.

The next morning, you’d woken up to an empty bed, much like you always did when you spent the night. What was out of the ordinary, was seeing him in the kitchen in full swing serving pancakes and ice cream calling it “the breakfast for breakups”.

You couldn’t tell if you were hurt or not by how he was acting, as if last night never happened. Was he not going to mention how close the two of you had been to locking lip? He simply went about the morning, just as happy as he always was.

And never brought it up.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were eighteen years old when you and Satoru fell apart.

Satoru had left for college, and at first you’d been so lost on what to do. For the first time since you were six, he wasn’t immediately at your side.

You remembered the day he left so clearly, clinging on around his neck, refusing to let go because you didn’t want him to get in his car and drive off, unsure when you’d see him again. When the two of you eventually managed to break the hug, you heard a not so subtle sniffle and spotted faint redness around his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re crying, ‘Toru,” you teased in between your own sniffles.

“You got me there,” he said with a sad chuckle slipping out, surprising you that he didn’t even attempt to fire back, just surrendering to his emotions. “Gonna miss you.”

“Gonna miss you too,” you whispered in response. Not much more was spoken before he drove off, like it all was just too much for either of you to talk about.

The first few days you didn’t do much else than lay in bed and wait for him to call, like he promised he would. And exactly at 8 pm, your phone lit up with his name where he told you all about how hectic his days were — and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to have daily calls anymore once the semester started for real.

“No, of course. I mean, I go back to school soon too so.”

And as the time went on, the calls got more and more rare. From every day, to three times a week, once a week, until you were lucky it happened every fourteen days.

Even though you hated it, you couldn’t blame him. Of course he was busy, he had an entirely new everyday life filled with classes and new people. And when he did make time for the phone call, you couldn’t help but feel genuine happiness when you heard how excited he was about all of it. But you knew you couldn’t keep sitting around sulking as you waited for his call. You decided you had to be okay without him.

It was your senior year after all — it was your time to shine, and you were still with the popular crowd even though Satoru wasn’t there anymore. Now you finally had the opportunity to get to know them better.

Turned out you had more in common with them than you thought, getting particularly close with the girls of the group. And it was refreshing to have girl friends, who seemed to match some of your interests in a way Satoru never managed to. Your horizons just expanded, your schedule packed nearly from morning until night. Not to mention your weekends were also busy. The parties you and Satoru usually left early or skipped all together, had become fun.

This weekend was no different. Sitting at your vanity doing your makeup for the evening when you heard your mom’s voice yell from downstairs. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Just send her up,” you yelled back. But when you turned around to face who you thought was your friend who was coming to get ready with you, your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall figure standing there instead.

“Her? Not the last time I checked,” Satoru smiled.

“Oh, my god, ‘Toru!” You squealed in excitement, running at him as you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, smiling even harder when he hugged you back just as firmly.

When he let you down, your eyes was instantly drawn to his. It’s been so long since you’d been able to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, and now you melted having them look down on you for the first time in months. Now that you were finally able to see him again, to touch him again, it hit you like a semi truck just how much you had missed him. You even found yourself getting a little emotional, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

“God, don’t wanna ruin my makeup,” you laughed.

“I was just about to say, you look great,” he said, unable to peer his eyes off you, because ‘great’ was an understatement.

“Why, thank you,” you beamed at him, a smile stretching from one ear to another.

“Going somewhere?” His eyebrows narrowed, letting his chipper composure slip for just a second but he quickly tried to shake it off.

“Yeah, there’s a party tonight. The group’s going, but I can cancel if-“

“No, of course not. I’m home all weekend.” There was a slight twinge in your heart, disappointed that he didn’t have the guts to accept your offer. There was not a single ounce of doubt that you’d drop the party for him in a heartbeat — you had after all longed for him to come home to visit since the second his car had driven out of view the day he left.

“Well, maybe you could come along?” You suggested, grabbing his hands in yours.

“I just think I’m going to stay home with my parents tonight,” he swallowed, giving you a weak smile.

He knew he should have just taken you up in the offer to ditch the party, but he didn’t have the heart to, especially when you were all dolled up for the evening already.

All he’d looked forward to was come home and hang with you and catch up all night, never falling asleep because he had missed your voice so much. But he knew that eventually, the guilt would eat him up, hogging you for the night when you were supposed to be somewhere else.

Now he had to sit at home, alone and bored, because he had lied when he told you about his parents, seeing as they weren’t back in town until tomorrow. He knew he would spend the night miserable, but it would beat having to tag along at your heels to a party he didn’t want to attend in the first place and witness how close you’d gotten to all your new friends while he’d been away, still preferring to have you to himself.

“Will you at least stay until I leave? And then I’m all yours for the whole of tomorrow?” For the time being, he managed to let his blues slip away, especially when you gawked at him with a sparkle in your eyes and an infectious smile.

“Of course.” His eyes followed your cheerful walk back to your vanity as he sat down on your bed. Once seated, your conversation flowed like normal, as if no time had passed at all since the last time you saw each other. He told you about classes and how much more difficult it was now, especially seeing as he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying.

And he knew he should be excited when you told him everything about your new life. How you’d finally taken the time to get the know the rest of the group and how great they all were, how fun you had it with all of them with all the stuff you guys did in your spare time, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting. He felt as if he was missing everything, losing the spot he used to have with you, replaced by his old friends. He knew it was unfair to think that way, but but there was no stopping his doomed spiralling.

“Oh, and that’s probably her coming now!” You perked up when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The next second, a girl he knew used to be in his friend group stood in the doorway.

“Satoru? What a pleasant surprise,” she beamed at him, and guilt hit him when he couldn’t even remember her name.

“Yeah, just home for the weekend,” he smirked at her.

She flashed him another smile before turning to you. “You ready?”

“Just about,” you sighed. Quickly, you grabbed your purse and skipped over to Satoru. “See you tomorrow, okay?” You said cheerfully as you placed a quick peck on his cheek before running out, leaving him standing alone in your bedroom.

He stared dumbfounded at the empty space you occupied just seconds ago, still surprised by the kiss as it was something completely new. Was that something you’d picked up from the group? Did that mean you went around kissing everyone’s cheeks? His mind ran crazy with questions, all making him equally jealous.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered into the phone still ringing. It was the third time you had tried to call Satoru and he still hadn’t picked up, which was incredibly unlike him. He always picked up almost immediately, especially when you were calling.

“Hey,” you finally heard him sigh on the other end of the line.

“Thank god you answered,” you said, teeth chattering in the freezing cold. “Could you please, please, please pick me up?”

“You okay?” There was a hint of worry in his voice, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to conceal it.

“No. Or yes. Or I don’t know, but I’m cold and I need to go home!” Another sigh.

“Where are you?”

“You’re my angel,” you breathed before giving him the address.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Before you managed to say goodbye, Satoru had already hung up. You stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds in shock of his abrupt ending, but right now, you were too cold to ponder any further on his behaviour. Tightly having folded your arms around yourself and rubbing your legs together, you desperately tried to get some heat in your body.

Finally, you saw the familiar car pull up in front of you, a sigh of relief leaving your body once you were greeted by the hot air as you sat down in the passenger seat.

“You’re really a life saver,” you spoke as you leaned your head back on the headrest, waiting to meet his eyes but he never turned to look at you. His eyes were glued to the road, a tight grip on the steering wheel as he kept chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You okay, ‘Toru?”

“‘M just fine,” he answered simply, still fixated on the road.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” You snorted, which made him quickly turn his head to give you a cold glare before looking at the road again.

“How come you were standing out in the cold all alone?” When he didn’t acknowledge your question further, you just fell back into your seat again and decided not to take it any further.

“You don’t wanna know,” you sighed, staring out the window.

“No, I’m curious.” If his tone told you anything, it was that he was pissed. You just hoped it wasn’t directed at you.

“I was kicked out.”

“What, too drunk to be in the house?” His comment caught you off guard at it seemed nothing but spiteful. You flipped your head to look at him again, only to see he was still unwilling to look at you.

“Do I seem too drunk to you?” He only shrugged, knowing the answer was ‘no’. “If you wanna know, I-“ you stopped yourself from finishing, too embarrassed to utter the words.

“Don’t get shy on my behalf.”

“I was about to sleep with someone, but after we undressed, something came over him and he just threw me out,” you complained, crossing your arms and staring at the road like he had earlier.

“You what?” Satoru exclaimed, and now he finally decided to shoot you a glare. “Who?”

“Does it matter?” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze which you knew was just purely judgemental. It seemed he was more upset about the part where you were going to sleep with someone than the fact that you were literally thrown out, which only ended up fuelling your own anger.

“Who was it?” He repeated sternly.

“Just some guy I met there, I don’t know,” you shrugged, and instantly a loud huff left Satoru.

“Wow,” he said in utter disbelief. “So this is who you are now.” Finally turning to look at him again, your face hot with anger, you saw his eyebrows were raised in frustration and his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never knew you to be someone who just spread your legs for anyone.” You gaped at him, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Stop the car,” you managed to force out somewhat calmly through gritted teeth.

“I’m not stopping-“

“Stop the fucking car, Satoru,” you practically yelled at him, startled when he suddenly slammed the breaks. Once the car had stopped, you didn’t hesitate to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the car, hearing him call your name before you slammed the door shut after you.

With your arms wrapped around yourself, you started to walk down the street in the direction of your house, knowing you were still pretty far from home. But you knew you were too furious to get back in the car with Satoru.

“Come on, get back in the car,” Satoru’s voice complained down the street.

“So you can slut shame me some more? Think I’ll pass,” you shouted back. It took only a second until you heard the car engine shut off before hurried footsteps against the wet pavement made its way over to you, Satoru positioning himself right in front of you.

“Fine, sorry, please get back in the car,” he said disingenuous, scowling down at you with his hands in his pockets.

“You expect me to accept that apology?” You scowled right back at him.

“Stop acting like a brat and just-“

“Brat? Really?” You interrupted him, raising your eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly with a deep sigh. “Thought so.” Keeping your mean glare at him, you tried to walk past him, but he surprised you by taking a strong grip of your arm.

“So is this like a weekly occurrence now?” You forcefully pulled out of his grip.

You simply shrugged while trying to find the right answer, wanting to keep your own anger in check even though you felt you were close to boiling over. “I mean, there’s something happening every weekend but that doesn’t mean I always participate.” He only scoffed, turning away from you and looking around the street. “What?”

“So now you’re just this crazy party girl that sleeps with anyone that’s available?”

You truly couldn’t believe it was Satoru saying these words to you, your best friend in the entire world. The person you’d known most your life, who knew your every deepest, darkest secret and had never judged you in the slightest — suddenly throwing mean words right to your face like you were just some nobody.

“Like you’re one to talk! You flirt with any girl that has a pulse, and not just in school. Remember, you went to parties too and enjoyed wallowing in the attention of anyone who’d give it to you!”

“I never liked going to parties. I still don’t,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Glad to see some things hasn’t changed, unlike the fact that you’ve turned into an asshole,” you spat at him, trying to walk away again, but he yanked a hold of you once more.

“Well, I’m not the only one who has changed,” he said in a low voice, giving you a stern look through his eyebrows.

A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, the tears quickly starting to well up in your eyes. Was this really the same person you’d physically been unable to let go off five months ago? The one person you believed could never intentionally hurt you the way he was now?

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Flickering between his eyes, you knew you’d caught on. “Did you really think I was going to sit around and wait for you?”

“I certainly didn’t expect you to go and replace me the first chance you got.”

“Replace you?!” You exclaimed before the entire sentence had left his lips.

“Yes, replace me!” He fired back, his tone more angry than he wanted it to be, because sadness was all he truly felt.

“So you haven’t gotten any new friends at university?”

“That’s different-“

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned in frustration, your hands rubbing your face. “I am so tired of you saying it is different for you! You’ve done that for years.”

Satoru had his hands deeply tucked in his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears with tension. He was already filled with guilt for talking to you this way, something he’d never done before. Then again, he couldn’t remember having this many negative feelings regarding you running wild in him.

“It’s baffling to me that you’re actually saying all these things to me, like it isn’t you that keep postponing our phone calls.” You said, your tone transformed from anger into the sorrow that had taken residence in you instead.

He breathed your name, almost like he seemed disappointed in a way. “Classes are riding my ass.”

“You don’t think I know that?” You fired back immediately, your tone remaining calm as you continued to hold back the tears. “But truth is, it has caused you to not make time for the phone calls.”

“You can’t expect me to be able to make time-“

What seemed to be the mix of a sob and a scoff parted your lips, cutting him off. It was like talking to a brick wall, because it felt like nothing you said reached him.

Had he always been like this? Too wrapped up with his own idea of being right that he took no regards for your opinion? If so, how had the two of you managed to go all those years without you properly realising it?

“If you haven’t been paying attention, it’s not me that’s had too many expectations, but you!”

His head fell back, retrieving his hands from his pockets to fold them over his chest. As his entire posture turned loose, you couldn’t bare to look at him when the first tear fell. He just seemed to be so sick of this conversation — sick of you — an idea that made you want to throw up on the spot.

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said in a low voice, as if he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to back down. He’d already been so cruel, a part of him feeling like he had already gone too far to double down now.

“I’m being unreasonable?!” You snapped, walking right up to him, now close enough to feel the heat radiate off him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me?”

Never in a million years could you have predicted your favourite person in the universe to speak to you this way, biting your head off for simply living your life. But it went deeper than being upset about you going to some random party. It seemed like he truly disliked the person you were right now, and nothing had ever hurt you as much.

“For the record, I did wait. So many nights I just sat in my room, staring at the damn phone, waiting for you to call.” You were sobbing now, all restraints of your tears out the window. “But I think you’re not half as busy with your studies as you claim to be, but very busy making new friends, which is why it’s nothing but cruel of you to go at me like this!”

“You always do that!” He snapped, causing your sobs to halt for a second, eyebrows quirking up in surprise. “You always assume these things about me, paint me out to be this specific person without having all the facts.”

“I know you better than I know myself, for fucks sake! You hate to work, avoid it for all that it’s worth, and now you’re trying to tell me you work so hard?” Silence. “And you’ve always loved attention. You feed on it, and every single living person on this planet can’t help but just give it to you! I’m willing to bet my last dime you’re surrounded with all sorts of people just fighting for your time!”

Without stuttering, you fired shot after shot, feeling bad even though every last word of it was true.

The reality of the fight washed over you, knowing you’d never fought like this before. A friendship spanning twelve years was doomed to have some disagreements along the way. And with both you and Satoru having such strong personalities, there had been quite a few. But never had either of you ever turned mean, like right now, no matter how serious the argument had been.

“Despite what you might think, I’m not one of your silly school girls who just follow you around to stroke your ego. I’m my own person, always have been. And I’m sorry you’re pissy about the fact that I’m doing fine without you here and I’m sorry that the image you had of me is finally shattering.”

You felt you’d gotten what you had on your mind off your chest, and all that fell out of you now were uncontrollable sobs. Not only were you absolutely devastated, but you were scared. The person that stood before you didn’t feel like someone you knew, meaning you had no idea what might come out of his mouth next.

“Think I see you clearer than ever.”

Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you tried to choke back your sobs, not feeling he was worthy of hearing the affect he had on you right now. You slowly began to nod your head, looking about for a few seconds before you simply began to walk away without saying another word. And this time you didn’t feel his hand grab your arm.

The second your head had hit the pillow after you’d gotten home, you erupted into loud, unruly sobs, that even managed to wake your parents. They stormed into your room, beyond scared something was terribly wrong, and your mom managed to pull your head into her lap, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to calm down so you’d be able to tell them what had happened, but to no prevail. While she desperately tried to hum you to peace, your dad stood watching in anguish as he had no clue what to do in order to help.

Eventually, the sobs wore you out to the point where you fell asleep in her lap.

Waking up the next morning, you’d felt like it had all been just a horrible nightmare, and in just a few minutes, Satoru would stand at your door, so excited to just do absolutely nothing with you like you had planned.

But you sat in your bed and stared at the door, waiting for him to show up but he never did. When you became restless, you paced around the room, daring to glance out the window in hopes you’d spot him sitting by his windowsill. But here too, you were left disappointed. No Satoru shaped silhouette made himself known, and at some point during the day, he had shut the blinds without you noticing.

Two days later, your mom came into your room and asked why Satoru had left to go back to university already when you guys hadn’t hung out yet.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty years old when you started university.

After a therapeutic gap year of working and travelling, you were finally ready to go back to school, excited to see what the life of a university student was all about.

So far it all seemed to go as smoothly as one could hope for — moving in and setting up in your small dormitory, putting in a lot of effort to make it a space where you could feel at home. Signing up for classes and getting all the books you needed was easier than expected, some kindhearted strangers more than willing to help you get it all right. And lastly, finding your way around campus wasn’t nearly the issue you thought it would be. You easily manoeuvred your way around the grounds, quickly coming across spots you could picture yourself just hanging out.

You were more than prepared by the time the first class rolled around, entering the huge auditorium, nervously walking down the stairs and sitting down in an available seat in one of the rows closer to the front.

Suddenly it began to dawn on you that you were actually in university, working your way to a future career like you’d always talked about. All your hard work in school, your academic achievements, finally paying off, letting you be in environment of equally dedicated individuals.

However, even though your peers seemed to be on the same level as you academically, you got the impression they had excelled passed you socially already. As you let your eyes roam the crowd, you noticed how people had already made friends and even formed groups, greeting each other with warm smiles as they sat down together.

You didn’t have the chance to brood about it for too long, as a roaring voice spoke up from the front of the classroom, drawing everyone’s attention to him, the chatter quickly quieting down. The assertive figure introduced himself before heading straight into the plans for the semester, asking if anyone had any questions. While a few students raised their voice, you just desperately wrote down everything being said, just in case it might be useful somewhere down the line.

“I look forward to teach you this introductory class in education. I’m sure you’ll make great teachers one day,” he smiled. “Before we get started, there’s someone I’d like to introduce. I have the privilege of being assigned a TA this semester — come on up.”

Everyone’s eyes followed the professors gesture towards the person who’d just gotten up from his chair by the exit. All the air was immediately sucked out of your lungs when your eyes landed on the one person you hadn’t expected to see.

“Good morning everyone,” he said in his characteristically suave voice, hearing the girls in the auditorium instantly begin to whisper amongst them at the sight of him. “I’m Satoru Gojo, I’ll be the professors teacher assistant this semester. Any questions you might-“

The words instantly died in his throat when his gaze landed on you, tensed up in your seat. He could almost see you shiver under his intense glare.

Nearly two years had passed since the last time he saw you, and not a day had gone by where he hadn’t cursed himself for how he treated you that night. He regretted it all, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to face you and apologise, even though you more than deserved it.

Eventually, the days just passed him by and it felt like an injustice for him to just jump into your life again so he decided not to, which resulted in the most miserable two years of his life.

You wanted to look away, but the shock of seeing him again had taken over your body, holding your attention hostage under his drilling blue eyes.

He’d let his hair grow a little longer, which suited him, even though he didn’t need it to improve his looks. It also seemed to have bulked up a little. Not much, just enough for you to notice as his navy, button up shirt hugged his arms in a way his clothes never had before.

“Mr. Gojo?” The professor’s voice broke his stare, bringing him back to real world and acknowledging all the faces staring at him.

“Yeah, sorry-“ he cleared his throat. “Any questions you might have, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he stuttered over his sentence, shooting you quick glance even though he tried to keep his attention on the crowd.

With a shy smile, he made his way back to his seat, his eyes once again finding you as he was seated. You shrunk in your seat, your entire body on fire from having his eyes observe you for the first time in so long, sure you’re heart might actually stop from the stress.

Throughout the entire lecture, you both kept stealing glances from one another, an unspoken sensation filling the air between you, like you both could feel how badly you’d missed and craved the other the period you’d been separated.

His eyes carried the same weight they always did when looking at you, uncomfortably restless in your seat, fidgeting with the paper of your notebook and trying to keep the tapping of your foot to a minimum. When your eyes weren’t automatically drawn to Satoru, you peeked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard, begging for time to pass so you could storm out of the classroom and finally be able to breath properly again.

You were sure the seconds lasted longer now than normal, but the lecture finally ended and you instantly began to gather your things, shoving them in your bag as quickly as possible. Daring to shoot Satoru another look, you were glad to see he’d been surrounded by students (mostly girls), hindering him from making his way to you — or so you thought.

“I have a meeting to get to,” Satoru lied, looking at you packing up your stuff before rushing up the stairs towards the auditorium exit. “But here’s my email. Just… send whatever questions you might have and I’ll answer as soon as I have the time.” It didn’t seem like anyone picked up on the fact that he was lying through his teeth, but they all wore a disappointed expression when he began to push his way through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs to catch up with you.

You stopped dead in your tracks, even though you wanted to just keep moving, when you heard that silky smooth voice speak your name. You reluctantly turned around to face him, still only managing to let out shallow breaths.

“I- Uhm.” Now that he finally had your full attention, his mind ran blank and his mouth dry, in awe at your familiar eyes staring up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you tried to reply, but barely a sound could be heard. His eyes shot to your feet, as you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, clearly not at ease seeing him again.

“You look- I mean I didn’t know you wanted to become a teacher,” he stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck.

“Me neither,” it slipped out of you, instantly pinching your eyes shut when you reflected on what had left your lips. “What I mean is I only decided recently.”

He groaned softly, feeling like nothing he wanted to say would be enough. “You finding university alright?”

It hurt. Holy hell, how it hurt, not to have the conversation flow as natural. Every atom in your body tried to convince you to just lean into what you were used to, resurrect the friendship just like that.

You nodded frantically at his question. “Yeah, much to see.”

Clearing his throat, he gathered up the courage to ask what had roamed his mind since he spotted you at the start of the lecture. “If you’re ever available, I’d love for us to grab a coffee or something,” he said it so quickly you were barely able to decode what he even suggested, but once it registered, you drew another sharp breath.

“Sure.”

“Really?” Narrowing his eyebrows at you, he hadn’t expected you to accept so willingly. He hadn’t really expected you to accept at all, if he was honest.

You didn’t know if you regretted accepting his invitation so quickly, but if there was a chance he’d apologise, you wanted to hear it simply because you deserved it. Or maybe that was the excuse you told yourself because you so desperately wanted to hang out with him.

“You haven’t changed your number, right?” You shook your head. “I’ll just text you.” The faintest smile grew on your lips as you simply nodded, a light blush spreading across Satoru’s face at the delightful sight.

“See you around, ‘Toru,” you said out if habit, quickly turning around and walking away so he wouldn’t be able to see that you too were blushing, regretting the use of his old nickname.

It didn’t even take two hours before your phone dinged with a text from him, where he suggested a time and place.

toru <3: how about next friday after the lecture? there’s this great coffeehouse five minutes from campus

you: sounds good :)

It seemed Friday couldn’t come quick enough, your anxiousness building up every lecture you had together. Despite feeling like the worst of the shock had passed as you simply flashed each other a friendly smile and a small wave when you saw each other, your mind would never get peace until everything was out in the open.

And now you finally sat opposite him, a strong grip on your mug to put your nerves somewhere. Satoru was scared you might shatter it, your knuckles turning white by how hard you were clutching at it.

“I’m really glad you decided to join,” he started awkwardly.

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never had the satisfaction of witnessing him awkward. It seemed like his default setting was mr. smooth talker, always able to find the right words in order to get what he wanted no matter how unlikely it seemed. But all that was out the window, staring at you with a sense of embarrassment, looking like a scared, young boy forced to face his stupid crush, waiting to get rejected after a sorry attempt at asking for a date.

“Me too.”

“You look really pretty- I mean, you look great. You’ve turned out pretty. Not that you were ugly before, you’ve never been ugly. In fact-“

His clumsy attempt at talking to you was cute, which was all it took to start chipping away at your cold exterior, the corner of your lips betraying you as it curled up in a small smirk.

“Thank you,” you said softly, his shoulders instantly relaxing.

Something about you was definitely different, but the tone in your voice made him realise it was actually you that was sitting in front of him; his best friend. There was no reason he shouldn’t be anything but comfortable around you. Especially now when he’d been offered the opportunity to maybe make amends, he couldn’t throw it away.

“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “I don’t want to give you any dumb excuses, because there aren’t any. I’m sorry and you didn’t deserve any of what I said to you that night.”

His voice had turned steady now, taking back the assertiveness you were so used to hearing. “I’m sorry too.”

He instantly snorted, much to your surprise. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He seemed to hold back a chuckle.

“Well, duh, but thought it was polite thing to say.” You were surprised by your own words, mirroring his humoured and shocked expression. Maybe he didn’t deserved to have you resort to playful banter already, but it just fell out of you so naturally. “You look great too, by the way.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he smirked smugly, while you rolled your eyes at him.

“Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,” you corrected him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“Okay, nerd.”

Your lips pursed together, unable to fight it anymore, a sweet smile hiding under the annoyed facade — and he noticed, his heart doing a full flip at finally being able to see it in person again. He’d only been able to dream of it in the time apart, and a hope began to spring in him that finally he might get you back in his life.

And this was just the first coffee of many. It started as a weekly thing, in the beginning consisting of airing it all out in order to establish the trust again. But it didn’t take long until you both fell into an old and familiar pattern.

It started with tagging along to lectures. Next thing, Satoru suggested you ordered dinner while studying, however not much studying was done. The evening was spent sitting on the floor of your dorm, stuffing your faces with take out and reminiscing of your days back in high school, talking about all the gossip and drama that went down.

There was a mutual understanding that you both had to make up for the lost time, both sad you’d wasted so long not being in contact when it could all have been resolved if you’d both been mature enough to just reach out.

But despite both of you resorting to old habits, quickly acting as close as you were back then, things had escalated.

Before, he’d simply thrown his arm lazily across your shoulders without a single thought. Now his muscular arm held a more possessive grip on you like he was preventing another outcome of you slipping away. And unlike before, you matched his energy, letting your arm slide along his back and grab tightly ahold of his waist to secure him close to you.

When he subconsciously began to fidget with your fingers, you eventually let your fingers glide between his to interlock your hands, where both of you just let them rest, his thumb softly stroking you.

And when he was gentleman enough to open the door for you every chance he got, he gawked at you with pure affection in his eyes and he sneakily let his hand rest on the small of your back as you passed him.

Neither of you ever mentioned it. You gladly just let it happen, both leaning into it, getting more and more touchy as time went on. And it didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students, ugly glares in your direction as they wondered how you’d gotten so close to the incredibly hot TA in the matter of weeks, also considering how many people he had throwing themselves at his feet.

You couldn’t care less however. You were simply living in the joyful bliss of having your best friend back.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His jaw dropped to the floor when you stepped out of the bathroom, not even noticing his lingering gaze on you, simply walking over to your purse to get your lipgloss.

The sinfully short dress hugged your curves just right, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes darted to the knee high, leather boots that elongated your enticing legs before letting his eyes indulge up your body, tracing your exposed collarbones-

“Satoru?” Drawing his attention to your face, which genuinely left him stunned having enhanced your already beautiful features, hair tucked up messily by a claw clip. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

More like an angel, he thought, trying to snap out of the haze you had him under as he slowly began to approach you.

What was happening?

There was a hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before, at least not looking at you. It was like he moved in slow motion, your heart quickly picking up the pace the closer he got. “Satoru?” You asked again, but a tremble in your voice exposed your nerves. “What are you doing?”

A confident, on brand smirk made its way onto his face, revealing his infamous dimples as he let his hand slip to your cheek, sliding it to the side of your throat and letting his thumb draw graciously soft lines along your jaw.

“I should have kissed you that night.”

His quiet confession filled the room, having your sole focus be his eyes, those beautiful, heavenly eyes that always saw right through you. The night in question had often played in your mind, fantasising about what could have happened if either of you had decided to cross the line.

“Would you have kissed me back?” The dominance in his voice had a weird influence on you, causing your eyes to flicker away from his eyes to travel across the attractive line of his curved lips.

“Without hesitation.” His grin widened, his thumb now moving to stroke your bottom lip. Much like that god forsaken night, he leaned forward, but this time he let his nose brush against yours, his breath brushing against your lips.

“We’re skipping the party,” he whispered.

“Didn’t wanna go anyways,” you huffed before finally being the one to engage the kiss, crashing into his lips, just as soft as you’d always imagined them to be.

Hungrily tying you arms around his neck in order to help deepen the passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slide along your bottom lip as if he was asking for you to open your mouth, to which you happily obliged.

His firm hands slid down your waist before stopping at your thighs, squeezing slightly into your plush flesh. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped into his arms with ease, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he placed his hands on your ass, not an ounce of fear in you that he’d ever drop you.

Your hands found their way to his soft hair, instantly drawing out a soft moan from him, causing you to smile into the kiss.

“That’s what you like, huh?” You teased, pulling away from him order to get a look at his face.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before reconnecting your lips when you felt he began to walk in the direction of your bedroom.

Since rekindling your friendship, everything had moved at the speed of light. As it all had happened, you’d noticed the increased intimacy, both physically and mentally, but you hadn’t wanted to assume it was anything more than just a result of missing each other.

You’d experienced a new sensation of yearning for Satoru, one that had previously only passed you by in random split seconds which you’d always suppressed to the back of your mind. Never had you wanted to jeopardise your friendship for anything, especially for what you thought was just innocent lust that naturally washed over anyone that was in the close vicinity of Satoru.

But clearly you were wrong. Maybe there had always been a stronger desire to explore him in a different way that had just been buried because it seemed illegal. Not to forget the fact that it was being reciprocated, his strong hands exploring your body with an urgency you had never experienced with anyone before.

The meaningful and deep history only appeared to fuel the hunger you felt for one another, behaving as if neither of you had experienced the phenomenon of another person’s touch in a lifetime — and it was only specifically each other who could satisfy the need.

Still with a tight grip, he hesitatingly let you down, his hands sliding up your body to hoist your dress so it gathered around your lower abdomen. “This dress need to come off, baby,” he breathed into your mouth as he continued to pull it up your body.

You simply lifted your arms to let him twist the dress over your head, his eyes instantly locking to your perky tits as if they were calling his name. Before he had the chance to give into the temptation of fondling them, playing with your nipples, you tugged at the bottom of his sweater. No way you were going to stand in all your glory while his clothes served as a hindrance to your desire.

Again his alluring smirk greeted you, more than willingly pulling it over his head to reveal his chiselled torso, confirming your theory that he had gotten bulkier, because you would definitely have remembered if he looked like that before.

“Is this crazy?” You asked shakily after having removed your shoes and reaching for his belt buckle. Noticing the slight jitters hiding between your excitement, he snatched ahold of your chin to force you to look at his face.

“Not crazier than the fact that I should have done this ages ago.”

Pulling your face towards him, he had you standing on your tip toes in order to dedicate as much of yourself to the kiss as humanly possible.

Once the pants were off him, your hand found his chest, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his toned pecks, guiding him backwards to sit down on your bed. With glee you straddled him, embarrassment flushed your cheeks as a needy whimper just fell from your lips when his huge bulge ended up pressing against your clothed core, an amused eyebrow quirking up on Satoru’s face.

“Damn, calm down,” he teased, your nose scrunching up to conceal the playful smile that was taking over.

“Idiot.” Grabbing his face, you let your open mouth graze against his when one of his hands palmed your clothed pussy, pulling another moan from your lips.

Without warning, he pulled your black laced panties aside, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit. You bit your lip to choke back yet another moan. Knowing Satoru, you knew he’d forever hold it against you — how he managed to withdraw those lewd sounds from you so easily.

“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he panted, enjoying the view of your scrunched up face of pleasure. “Can’t wait to feel you around me.”

“‘Toru, I-“ you forced out when you felt him slip two lengthy digests inside you as he traced soft, little pecks along your collarbone that he had admired earlier. Hearing you barely able to utter his nickname mixed with the low squelching of your pussy, basically drenched already, was something he had only been able to imagine before. And god, was the real thing ten times better than his fantasy.

“Getting shy around me, pretty? That’s unlike you.” Again you wanted to roll your eyes at him, because he was even more cheeky when having you at his mercy than normal. But the consistent pressure on your sensitive nub along with the movement of his fingers were too much to even give that a try.

Fingertips clawing at his shoulders, slowly starting to rock your hips as you were being drawn closer and closer to the edge.

His smooth motion had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, the tingle of orgasm bubbling up inside you when he had you gasp in disappointment when you were deprived of his skilled touch.

Motherfucker.

“What-“ your eyes fluttered open in confusion before you were thrown off his lap, landing softly on your back, sinking into the mattress. Next thing, his boxers hit the floor, exposing his already rock hard dick. Eyeing the size, his cocky personality suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

Hovering over you, he swiftly tilted your head to the side to place a series of open mouthed kisses as he used his leg to spread your legs apart, setting himself up between them, feeling his tip slightly touch your entrance as it twitched.

“I need you,” it vibrated against your skin, one arm wrapping around his back in a desperate need to feel every inch of him, while the other traveled south to lace around his dick. It was your turn to draw sounds from him, a small, satisfied giggle ringing in his ear as a reaction to hearing his pathetic whimper.

“Sorry,” your giggle trailed off when he lifted his head to look down at you, the ghost of a smile on his face telling you he enjoyed the small banter during it all.

You gave him a few slow pumps, using your thumb to rub some of his precum across his tip, aligning him with the opening of your cunt as he punished you with a rough kiss on the lips.

That’s when you finally let go, your hand finding his back again to prepare yourself to be filled with his dick. He didn’t wait to slide into you with ease, gasping softly as you involuntarily clenched around his size, trying to get used to it.

“You okay?” He mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours. You only nodded before pulling him in for another kiss, reassuring him that you were alright and more than ready.

The line was officially crossed — no going back now. You could never go back to being just best friends, but maybe that was for the best, that maybe you’d always meant to be more. Every fibre of his being had for a long time ached to have you like this, spread out and desperate for him and only him.

At first he moved in a slow and sensual pace, wanting to be entirely sure you could take it. Eyeing your expression in awe, finally being able to be the one to make you grimace with pleasure.

“Wanted this for so long,” he murmured, being driven to lose all control hearing all your sweet whimpers, occasionally mumbling his name, which had him buck his hips faster and deeper, desperate to push you to climax.

Taking every inch of him over and over, stretching around him, he glanced down to get a look of the beautiful sight, his cock moving in and out, in and out, like you were made for him.

Your nails burrowed into his back before dragging down, too dazed in the bliss of Satoru’s cock stuffed in you to care about the red lines you knew you’d created, marking him as yours. Your toes curled as he kept feeding you horny affirmations and heartfelt compliments.

“Fuck fuck fuck, look at that.”

“God you’re so beautiful.”

“Taking me so good baby.”

“Fuck, should have done this ages ago. Look so pretty around me.”

“Hngh, ‘Toru,” you mewled. “I’m gonna c-cum,” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut and arching closer to him to chase your high.

“As you wish.” Something snapped in him, slamming into you at an unbearable speed, balls smacking your ass as he kept shoving into you. You tried to make out words to tell him you were about to reach your limit, but you were too fucked out to form anything coherent, just a string of cute sounds of pleasure leaving your pretty mouth. “Cum f’me.”

His simple command had you nearly scream as the sweet release washed over you, head pushing back into your pillow as he gave you the most intense orgasm you could remember. He fucked you through your high, feeling your body pressed against his until he too reached his climax, filling you with cum, a loud groan left him before his thrusts became lazy and sloppy.

He pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. You both turned to look at each other, instantly making eye contact. Whatever flashed between you caused you both to break into a calm laughter. Once it died down, your flipped to lay on your side and rested your chin on his shoulders.

“Should have known you’re quite a talker during sex, it adds up.”

“Is this complaining I hear?” He taunted, pinching his eyebrows together to challenge your statement. “Because the way you just moaned my name like a slut-“

“Okay, fine, I’ll sush,” you laughed before hiding your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Carefully he nudged his shoulder to have you look at him again, needing to take in your flushed face after it all, eyes roaming every part of it. “So what happens now?” You breathed softly as your finger began to trace weak circles on his still damp chest.

Without thinking, he tilted your head up and placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “I know I don’t wanna waste anymore time not being with you.”

“We really screwed up there, huh?” As his secure arms wrapped around you to have you as close to him as possible, his chest vibrated with a low chuckle.

“Not my fault you were out and about, throwing your phone number at your customers.”

“Oh alright, if you wanna blame previous conquests, then there’s-“ he instantly placed his large hand over your mouth to muffle the list of girl names you could remember him being with.

“Still such a brat-“ you interrupted his insult by defending yourself the only way you could, sticking out your tongue to lick all over his palm. Before you even had the chance to understand what was going on, it backfired when he instantly rubbed his hand all over your face, smearing your spit.

“Satoru,” you squealed before you both fell into a fit of laughter again.

Well into the night, you just talked and laughed. Sharing every single moment from your friendship that might have been pent of feelings for each other, realising this was how it always should have been. Neither of you had to hold back on the affection or affirmation anymore in fear of jeopardising what you already had. If anything, the relation you already shared only seemed to further ignite what would come to be.

For the first time, you fell asleep in his arms, being his.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty-seven years old when life was just perfect.

“But pretty please!” Nobara complained, hands pressed together in prayer, close to falling to her knees to beg you to do her this small favour. It earned her an offended frown from both her classmates standing on each side of her. “It’s a testosterone nightmare.”

Before you were able to give her any form of response, two lean arms came lurking around your waist to spin you around, drawing bubbly giggles from your lips.

“My god, Satoru, we’re at work!” You managed to force out between your joy, eventually feeling your feet planted safely on the ground again. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders, towering over the group with a content smile on his face.

“Sorry, just got excited.” He placed a small peck on the crown of your head, sprinkling a tint of pretty pink on your cheeks.

Over and over you’d told him to keep his devotion to you on the down-low in public, especially in front of the students but he never managed to follow the simple request, having the two of you act like love sick teenagers. And as much as you pretended not to, you melted as much at his antics now as you did way back when, rarely putting up much of a fight to actually tone down his behaviour.

Looking at the three first years in front of you, both Nobara and Megumi had a hint of disgust at the sight of how mushy Satoru got with you, always having a desire to be in contact with you one way or another. Yuji, on the other hand, always admired the sheer transparency of the relationship.

“So what’d I miss?”

“Nobara want me to give her private lessons because she’s sick of you boys.”

“Young miss Kugisaki, dare I say I’m disappointed?” Satoru said, acting overly dramatic, sporting pinched eyebrows to have them believe he was actually hurt.

“Gojo-sensei, I have reason to believe I’ll learn even more having a female teacher,” she pouted.

“Ouch,” he breathed in response.

“You’ll tough it out,” you chuckled, a small thank you whispered from the tall man pressed against your side before you opened your mouth again. “I mean, think about how I have it. At least you’re only linked to him during school hours while I live with the guy. I can never catch a break-“

A grunt escaped you as the arm draped around you tensed up, pulling you into a strong headlock. Endless laughter leaving you as you so desperately tried to pull out of his grip but to to prevail, cheek smushed against his ribs.

“Can you guys believe it?” Satoru gasped before carefully pulling up his blindfolds slightly to reveal one of his eyes to look directly down at you. “My own wife?”

“‘Toru!” He just smiled down at you at the happy sounds from your beautiful mouth, also amused by your weak attempt to break free from his hold on you, messing up your hair as you desperately tried to pull your head back.

“You’re both insufferable,” Megumi rolled his eyes, just wanting to go on with his day.

“All I’ve done for you over the years, and still you find it in you to talk to me like that,” shaking his head in faux disappointment. You were finally able to pop your head out from his grip, not at all due to the fact that he intentionally loosened his hold on you a little. A low chuckle rumbling at the sight of your pouty lip hidden behind your bristly hair.

Pushing it out of your eyes, you clicked your tongue as you turned your attention to his students again. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m their favourite teacher,” he said proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning forward a little to me on the same level as you.

“Isn’t much competition when you’re their only teacher.”

“You’re feisty today. Get up in the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“No, I think it might have something to do with you hogging the covers all night.”

The bickering continued, bickering only possible to come from two people who’d been best friends for decades, eventually causing the three friends to walk away with either of you noticing.

“Wipe of that grin, sir, or you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threatened, nothing but pure amusement in your tone. His fingers found your face, squeezing your soft cheeks together, causing your sweet lips to stick forward looking more than inviting. A low giggle once again harboured deep in your throat, trying your best not to let them spill.

His face came closer — oh how he still managed to have the butterflies go crazy inside after all these years never seized to amaze you, feeling the alluring look through his blindfolds.

“We both know you’d come crawling into my arms after an a hour,” he teased, close enough to your puckered lips for you to feel his warm breath.

“Nuh uh-“ was all you were able to muffle out between his fingers.

“Damn, I love you,” he spoke softly before planting a kiss on your mouth, unable to hold back the smirk that grew when his grip changed to a tender cup of your cheek.

Sometimes it baffled you how you both managed to be so incredibly, deeply and stupidly in love with each other. You’d think after all those years with so much devotion and admiration shared, you would have grown tired of each other by now.

But you guessed it helped to be best friends with the person you’d chosen to be with for the rest of your life.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n hehe this is long... this is basically a love letter to gojo after 261, where i had my heart absolutely shattered like most of us yk. ive been super motivated to write it tho so just last week i had 30 hours screentime on my notes app lol... now, ive said it before and ill say it again, i am NOT a smut writer (clearly). personally, thats the part here i like the least bc i just feel like i cant get it to flow naturally... besides that hope you guys like this

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

[zhongrin]

festered wounds

— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’

✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“i’m sorry.”

zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.

“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.

“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”

“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”

zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.

belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.

zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.

“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”

“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”

“a-are you sure you want me?”

out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.

“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”

“oh….”

“….”

“….”

you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.

“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”

you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.

and it angered him.

but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.

funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.

“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”

“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”

“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”

wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—

he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.

“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”

he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…

“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”

“then is your own head telling you that?”

“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.

he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.

he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.

“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”

the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.

he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.

“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat

[niya-writesshit]

call me so i can see?

patrick x fem!reader x art (on the phone)

TW: smut MDNI - oral (f receiving), p in v, masturbation, one bit where he slaps her- patrick is kinda a perv idk, mentions of vomit, swearing

word count: 1637

¡! ❞ a/n: au where they all go to stanford and tashi doesn't exist ig (love her js could not incorporate her!)

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"show me what you're wearing, baby," art mumbled. you picked the camera up from where it was resting on your vanity and switched the view to show him your little pink skirt and grey tank top through the mirror.

"and then i think i'll wear these white panties," you hummed, flipping up your skirt to show him the lacy white underwear, turning round to show him the back. "d'you like?"

art looked almost pained on the other end, eyes dark and jaw slightly slack. "you look gorgeous," he grunted. "why does patrick get the white ones?"

you sighed and placed the phone back on the desk as you finished curling your hair. "they're his favorite."

"they're my favorite too," art whined, brows contorting in a way meant to make you feel bad for him.

"liar," you huffed. "you like the blue set," you said, shooting him a glare through the screen.

"i like all of them," art complained, raising his arm so it was balanced behind his head while he watched you get ready. "can't you guys just wait until i get home?"

you finished the last ringlet of hair, examining yourself in the mirror. "you want me to go 2 more weeks without any sex?"

"well, i don't want patrick to have you all to himself."

"you get me all to yourself all the time, don't be selfish."

"will you at least call me? i wanna see."

your lips curled into a smile at art's blatant voyeurism. "sure," you smiled. "okay, baby, i got to go. love you!"

art responded with a kiss through the air, puckering his lips and planting them on the camera, leaving the view blurry and slobbery.

"gross," you giggled, hanging up on him and heading out your dorm.

✭✭✭

patrick was incredibly horny. in fact, he had jerked off 3 times today, once to a picture of you and another the second he saw you walk into his crowded dorm room, palming himself through his pants in desperation.

he knew that the only reason you were at this grimy college party was to fuck him - causing his dick to rise even higher as he realised your tiny little skirt and perfectly curled hair was just for him. and with art out of town, it meant he got your pretty pussy all to himself. you locked eyes with him across the room, smirking at the firm position his hand had on his crotch. you tilted your head to the door after scrunching your nose at the pool of vomit that had already been released onto the floor. patrick nodded with a crooked smile, pushing himself off the bed and making his way to the door.

patrick's eyes practically crossed with need as he watched you bend over a little to grab a beer, flashing your lacy panties - his favorite set. his breath hitched in his throat, he maneuvered his way through the sweaty throng of college students towards you.

"hey, sexy," he murmured, hand immediately gravitating towards your ass as he led you towards the door. "i like your underwear. great choice."

"all for you."

patrick internally groaned at your low, purring tone, lips latching onto your neck the second you were out in the hallway of the dorms. he led you to a familiar dorm- art's.

you let patrick slip off your skirt, watching his eyes turn pure black as he surveys your bottoms hungrily. you fumbled with his belt buckle as he ripped off your shirt, lips locking with his sloppily. your panties stayed on even when patrick's fully erect cock came springing out of his boxers. patrick's mouth travelled down your torso, nipping and sucking at your tits before moving down to your thighs.

"wait," you panted. patrick looked up at you with furrowed brows. "i told art i'd call him."

"call him later," patrick huffed, going back to attacking your thighs, marking the soft flesh with love bites.

"no, i told him i'd call him now."

patrick groaned loudly and pushed himself off the bed, searching through your discarded clothes for your phone. "here," he growled as he tossed it you. as you fumbled with the screen, tapping on art's name, patrick pulled your panties off and latched his mouth onto your cunt with fervor.

art picked up immediately, and you angled the camera so he could see patrick in between your legs, sucking and tugging on your clit, eliciting loud moans from you.

"fuck," art said lowly. patrick looked up at the phone with a deathly glare. you got the hint, moving the phone away from your face and balancing it on the side table near your head so you could see art and he could - very clearly - see the two of you.

patrick could see your face now too, and he took immense satisfaction in the way your mouth hung open and your eyes fluttered as he pleasured your pretty little pussy with his tongue. you shuddered under his mouth, reaching out to tug at his hair. his hips rutted against the bed in an attempt to ignore his own erection, because he won't even think about fucking you until you've cum on his tongue.

art watched through the phone, eyes low and burning with jealousy as he watched his favorite boy eat out his favorite girl. he clenched his jaw while he slowly pumped at his dick, saving his orgasm for when the real action started.

patrick began to suck and lick and swirl faster when he felt your legs clench around his head. "shitttt, patrick," you moaned almost pornographically, whiny and loud. "please, please, please, please," you whined, fingers tangled in his hair and head thrown back against the headboard.

you didn't even have to voice that you were finishing, because patrick knew - from the way your thighs shuddered and your cunt began to tighten around his tongue. art knew too - as he watched your eyes begin to cross and moans became louder and louder. once patrick's chin was slick with your release, tip of his nose shiny, he lined his throbbing cock up with your entrance.

you were still completely fucked-out, eyes fluttering open and closed while you panted heavily. as patrick spat on his hand and ran it painstakingly slow down his length, you glanced up at the phone, taking in art's dick, which was out in all its glory. his tip was glossy with pre-cum and he was still slowly jerking himself off. he gave you a crooked grin as he watched your eyes travel towards him. "focus on patrick, baby. he's got you all to himself today."

you nodded compliantly, shifting your gaze to the massive cock that was brushing your entry. "need it real bad, pat," you whined, rutting your hips so you could feel the tip on you.

"you're gonna get it, baby. be patient," he looked up at the phone, making eye contact with art and shaking his head. "look at our girl, art. being so needy."

art hummed in agreement as patrick reached out for a condom, making a visible (and slow) display of the way he stretched it over his cock. he teased your cunt with a finger, pushing back your folds and smiling as he examined the slick hole. "turn around," patrick commanded, watching you with low eyes as you turned onto your belly, sticking your ass up into the air and looking back at him expectantly.

"pleaseeee," you whimpered.

patrick couldn't resist, and he grabbed you by the hips to line himself up just right. with one fluid movement, he snapped his hips against your ass and plunged his cock inside you, making you moan loudly. his thrusts were deep and frantic as slapping sounds filled the air, making art practically salivate.

he felt as if he was watching porn - the way you cried out so erotically, and the intense motions of patrick's hips. your ass stuck up in the air perfectly rounded, and he was pissed at the fact he didn't have the view patrick did, positioned behind you. his hands began to quicken on his dick at the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down against the mattress as patrick relentlessly pounded into you.

as if hearing his thoughts, patrick reached out to grab the phone, flipping the camera so he could see your beautiful cunt, all filled up with patrick. art's breathing quickened, moaning loud enough for you to hear. you snapped your head back, flashing him a large smile and sticking your tongue out. maybe you were a pornstar in another life or something, because holy shit. art and patrick both groaned at the sight and patrick's pace inside you began to quicken.

unable to hold it in any longer, he placed art back on the side table and thrust into you even more passionately than before, hard enough that you could feel it in your fucking stomach. art was moaning too, right along with you and patrick, furiously stroking at his dick. all three of you seemed to come at once - you squirting all over patrick's cock, art shooting ropes of cum all over his hands and the phone, and patrick (unfortunately contained within the condom) releasing inside you with a loud keening sound.

"that was very hot, you two," art praised, panting.

"thanks," patrick replied, still buried inside you. "it's gonna have to happen again, 'cause there is no way i'm going another two weeks without this."

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¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

[moonstruckme]

OMGGGGGGG

the first kiss was so cute!!! perfect!! james was so sweet and gentle w her😍😭😭

can’t wait to see there dynamic from now on

Thank you gorgeous! I held onto this so I'd have something to post this last part to, hope you don't mind <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

James is buzzing while he makes breakfast the next morning. Golden morning light pours in through the front windows, brightening the kitchen and warming his back where he stands in front of the stove, the buttery smell of pancake batter wafting up from the pan. He’d gone to bed later than usual last night and slept hard but woke jittery, desperate to do something about the commotion in his chest. 

A run hadn’t done it, nor had replaying the previous night in his head, and now he’s convinced he won’t be able to rest until he can kiss you again. It’s your fault, really. Your little sighs, your careful touches, the way you’d tugged at the roots of his hair when he asked you to, like all this time you’d only been waiting for permission. You’ve fucked him. James will never be able to get over it. Now, all he can think about is getting more. 

He’s made more pancakes than a family of five could eat when he hears the stair creak. 

“Good morning,” he says, turning around just as you pad into the kitchen, quiet as a ghost. 

Your eyes are bleary, but they still manage to widen slightly as you take him in, along with the precarious tower of pancakes beside him. You’re in that sweatshirt he loves so much, sleeves hanging limply from your hands and hem hitting just above your knees. 

“Morning,” you say, softer than soft. 

“How’d you sleep, lovely?” 

You shrug, not quite looking at him. “Fine. You?” 

James grins. “Beautifully. You want some pancakes?” 

Your gaze goes again to the stack beside him, and he can practically see the quip brewing in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Are you planning to feed an army?

“Sure,” you say in that same quiet voice. “Thanks.” 

James studies you, intrigued. “Great. C’mere, sweetheart.” 

He plates up a few pancakes, keeping one eye on you as he does. You seem disinclined to look even in his general direction, finding distractions with the stove, your plate, the weather outside. 

“How’s this?” He turns around with the plate. You take it cautiously, by the complete opposite end to avoid any possibility of making contact with his hand. James’ heart warms at the way your fingers just peek out from the sleeve of your sweatshirt to grasp the plate. He wants to kiss you until you don’t know what day it is. “Too many? Not enough?” 

“This is good.” 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let go of the plate. He tilts his head, trying to catch your eye, but you evade him. He has a hunch that if he were to touch your face (and god, does he want to) he’d find it burning hot. “Are you alright?” 

Your eyes flit up to his for a half a second before fleeing again. You hum, the sound tense and pitchy. “Mhm.” 

“You sure?” he asks, matching your soft tone. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.” 

You look like you stop breathing. 

And ordinarily James might feel bad, but post-kiss James cannot be prevailed upon to treat you as cautiously as he ordinarily might. Unfortunately for you, your secret’s out. You’re lovely, you’d said, voice soft and breathy and mere inches from his own mouth, I like having you around. I do. I really like you. Also unfortunately for you, post-kiss James knows things. 

He slips his palm alongside your face, working his hand behind your ear and letting his fingers burrow into the hair behind it. You melt, leaning into the touch. Your eyes meet his. 

It’s grueling work to keep from smiling. “What’s wrong, angel?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, still quietly but now with more of yourself in your voice. 

“Really? Because you’re acting like we’ve just met.” 

“Don’t you—don’t things feel different to you?” You seem almost distressed, eyebrows hooking upwards just slightly, pretty eyes imploring. Your voice softens again, now more with intimacy than reticence. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk with you about.” 

James lets his smile loose, thumbing at the skin behind your ear before letting you go. “We can talk about anything you want,” he says simply, grabbing his own plate and leading you into the living room. 

You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table but almost never use it, each preferring to eat your meals on the couch. He flops down, careful not to tip his pancakes onto the cushion as he crosses his legs underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. 

“So, have any fun dreams last night?”  

You smile. It’s as heart-stoppingly lovely as always, and James thinks his own probably doubles in magnitude in response. 

“A couple,” you admit. 

“Oh? What about?” 

Your smile goes sheepish, bottom lip slipping in between your teeth as if to impede its progress. You fork clinks against the plate as you start cutting up your pancake. 

James’ brain short-circuits. 

“You were in my dream,” he blurts. 

Your eyes flit up to his warily. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It was one of those weird, super vivid dreams where nothing really happens, you know?” You seem to relax a bit. James douses his pancakes in syrup, starting to cut them up as he talks. “We were here, and someone had spilled something on the rug—probably Sirius, to be honest—and it made this huge stain. I’d tried to pour baking soda on it, but the whole box had collapsed and it got everywhere. We were both sitting right there scrubbing with literal toothbrushes, and I think I was worried you’d be upset with me but you were just laughing.” His heart warms at the pseudo-memory, the hazy feeling of contentment that had permeated the dream. The sound of your laugh, exactly as sweet as in real life. “Your hands were totally covered in baking soda, and the rug was ruined, but we were both laughing our heads off.” 

You’re smiling again, a small, knowing thing. “Had you said something to make us laugh?” 

“No,” he says honestly, “I think it was you.” 

James is aware that he’s barely functioning. It’s almost too much to talk and cut his pancakes at the same time while you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. It makes it both a relief and a disappointment when you drop your gaze. 

“Do you think the stain might’ve been a premonition?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?” 

You laugh, and he’s instantly spellbound, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality. It takes him a second to realize you’re touching the edge of his plate, tipping it up. James looks down. It had been nearly falling off his lap, his pancakes cut up into tiny pieces and syrup pooled near the rim. 

You look up at him, seraphim with the morning light brightening your features and the hint of a smile playing on your lips. He thinks of how soft they’d felt on his the night before, the way they’d fallen open like welcoming him home. 

“You were almost spilling syrup onto the rug,” you say, that rare and beloved teasing lilt to your voice. “It would’ve taken more than baking soda to get that out.” 

“See?” he asks. “You know how to talk to me just fine.” 

You look surprised, then self-conscious, though not nearly as bad as when you’d come into the kitchen a few minutes ago. He covers your hand with his to keep you from going anywhere. Sets his plate on the coffee table. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes are wide. “Again?” 

“Yes, again,” James laughs. “And again after that, preferably. Only if it’s okay with you.” 

You shake your head, looking something akin to bewildered. “Yeah. Yeah, please.” 

He starts to lean toward you, and you meet him halfway. Already, it’s a bit different. There’s no tentative stillness, no slow yielding. Your lips are pliant and eager, parting and closing around his like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Your fingers wind in his hair without instruction, and James responds by placing his hand in that spot you’d seemed to like it so well last night, the material of your sweatshirt soft beneath his touch. You taste like his pancakes, the syrup sweet on your tongue. 

“Keep talking to me,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips worshipfully, “okay?” 

Your voice is breathless. “Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He tugs at you, wanting you closer. “And I think I’ve put in the work for you to warm up to me, if it’s all the same to you.” 

You make a tiny, amused sound. “Fine,” you say. You grow bolder, kissing your way up his cheek, the top of his eyebrow, until your nose is nestled in his hair and your lips are caressing his forehead. “Consider me warmed.” 

James grins, unable to help himself. He thinks that becoming your friend didn’t go quite as he planned, but he feels as though he won in the end.

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

Lucky Girl Syndrome!! / theodore nott x fem reader

playlist : lucky girl syndrome - illit

summary : y/n has always been just a lucky person , in her acedemics , looks , friends , family and even in her general day to day. however she wasnt so fortunate when it came to her love life...but maybe it wasnt luck chasing love away , but instead someone close to her?

y/n , slytherin reader , fluff , swearing , arguing , jealous theo, anrgy theo and reader

a/n - as an extremely unlucky person- this fic gave me inner peace LMAOO

thats that me espresso! (another theo fic)

you walked happily though the halls , narrowly missing a prank set up by the weasley twins as their failed trick of a water bucket soaked them and left you completely dry. how lucky!

"i swear there is something wrong with that girl like she has some kind of force feild!" george sighed in frustration , their 3rd prank of the week failing to actually get you.

"God has favourites georgie, he has favourites ," fred patted georges back as they both sulked away to dry their now drenched clothes.

of course you were olbivous to the whole thing! your stroll down the hallway continued , the sun hitting your face in just the right way as you reached the great hall , practically skipping to the slytherin table.

"hi guys!" you exclaimed excited as you sat down at just the right time to ignore the apple that had just come flying at your head.

hearing the apple crash to the ground you turned again , confused seeing the apple roll around on the ground.

"shit , sorry y/n i was aiming for harry but he dodged!" ron shouted apologetically across the room.

"dont worry r-" you started until you were interuppted by your best friend theo besides you, who held a cold glare at ron.

"do that again and it wont be an apple flying at your head weasley!" theodore shouted at him as ron awkwardly looked away.

"dont theo , it was an accident," you said putting a hand on his arm as he immediatly softened.

"youre too kind y/n you shouldve been in hufflepuff," pansy said with a sigh.

"green suits me more," you smiled at pansy as she giggled ,"besides i can be quite mean when i want to be."

"youre not wrong about that , you nearly broke my ribs with that bludger in quidditch!" draco complained , still not letting go of a quidditch incident from 2nd year.

"draco i really wish you would get over that , it was my first match i was nervous and thought you were on the other team," you sighed starting to eat your food.

draco grumbled in response until the whole table turned around to look at something behind you, in confusion you turned too and saw a ravenclaw boy in your year.

"hi y/n i was just wondering if maybe you would-" the boy , named david, started to speak until catching his eye on something besides you. waiting for him to carry on he instead shuddered with fear and backed away instantly , practically running back to the ravenclaw table.

"david!" you tried to call after him , but instead he walked faster , sitting himself down and avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"the fuck? what...what did i do?" you asked your friends frantically , knowing that he intended to ask you out before he suddenly stopped.

"you didnt do anything sweet y/n ," matheo started before shifting his eyes to theodore next to you, "maybe a greater force got in the way?"

confused by his choice of words you looked back at david , a look he didnt return. in frustration you held your head in your hands and groaned , "im so unlucky!"

"i wouldnt say that," blaise scoffed as the whole friendgroup nodded , knowing luck was not your lack.

"no i mean unlucky in love! david was clearly going to ask me out but just like the gryffindor from last week he couldnt even finish his scentence and ran!" you sighed , venting your anger to your friends.

"yeah well you can do much better," theodore remarked in a cold tone , his eyes still peircing where a shaking david sat. as you watched theodore stare and david cower , everything seemed to click into place.

"theodore!" you snapped at him , making him finally turn and look at you , "yknow sometimes i think that you drive them away!"

"you think!" lorenzo scoffed as pansy smacked him on the arm , quickly shutting him up.

"i havent done anything, its not my fault he ran off , what could i have done?!" theodore argued back as the rest of your friend group watched him in disbelief , knowing he drove david , the guy from gryffindor and every guy ever, away.

you scoffed ,"oh really so you didnt death stare him? he clearly looked at you before running!"

"wow i didnt know you would get so touchy about david the ravenclaw!" he said in a mocking tone as you both seethed with anger.

"read the room theodore for fucks sake! maybe i do want to go on a date , maybe i wouldve said yes! i didnt notice at first , how every guy just bolted as soon as he looked at some mysterious thing next to me , now i realise it was you probably doing a cut throat gesture!" , you ranted at theodore as draco tried to hold in his laugh.

"maybe he had an epiphany about you or something!" theodore tried to argue back , all of you knowing he couldnt really deny anything you said , it was all true.

"what- you think its me driving them away? stay out of my love life theo its none of your fucking business!" you harshly shouted your final remark before getting up from the table and stomping out of the great hall.

"there goes that mean streak i was just talking about," draco mutters , shaking his head and continuing to eat his food.

the table sat in silence for a few second before mattheo spoke up again, "you kinda deserved that."

"fuck off!" theodore snapped as he jumped up and strode after you , and out the great hall.

----

walking into your dormroom you threw your robe off of you and loosened your tie , trying to lose some of the heat from your argument.

pacing the room your thoughts were interrupted as the door burst open , theodore walking in and standing in front of you , keeping a fair distance as you stared back at him.

"what do you want now theo!! do you want to control my friendships? maybe throw a glare and a threat at enzo and draco and maybe they'll stop talking to me aswell!" you shouted at him loudly now, as venom dripped from your words.

he stepped towards you quickly , as you tried to back away- he grabbed the sides of your face delicatly.

"i want you," he said , his voice just above a whisper as your heart burst into flames , the heat dispersing itself across your cheeks.

"d-.. theo dont say thing you dont- that you know you dont mean," you said avoiding his gaze , shaking your head as your voice had dropped to an insecure mumble.

"y/n i have only ever wanted you , i glare and i threaten and i hate the boys that ask you out because i want you. i need you." he said softly , pulling your face closer to his , forcing you to hold eye contact.

"theo i-" you started as he cut you off quickly.

"please if youre going to reject me just know....know that ill tell david to ask you out , ill never do anything to intercept love for you again. i promise , just please... let me down easy.." he spoke quietly , insecurity and sadness seeping though his words.

this time it was you that softly garbbed his face and lifted his eyes to meet yours , "theo...maybe i didnt realise it until now but...i have always liked you."

his sadness faded as he looked at you with shock , his silence allowing you to continue in a lighthearted way, "maybe ive glared at a few girls too , unknowingly of course!"

you both laughed at this as he looked at you like you painted the stars into the pitch black sky , "im sorry for pushing those guys away...well not really but more like im sorry that you got sad about it"

you laughed again before allowing yourself to get lost in his eyes , the green like that of a four leaf clover- rare yet so beautiful , "maybe im not so unlucky in love afterall , it was right there in front of me the whole time."

he smiled at you with adoration before pulling you into a sweet , loving kiss. fortune was on your side today , as it brought you your luckiest pull yet , theodore nott.

[clockwayswrites]

The bitties must cuddle. ""Birdtritch"" Part 5

masterpost

“Nightwing!” Tim shouted, leaning forward on his perch.

Nothing.

Then a black and blue stripped hand poked out of the green feathers in a thumbs up. “I’m okay!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nightwing,” Hood grumbled as he stalked forward. “Hey bird brain! Let go of my brother.”

“Aww, he called me brother,” Nightwing cooed over the line.

“…maybe you can keep him after all,” Hood said to the bird thing that had leaned down to peer at him.

The green glint of the bird thing’s eyes reflected off of Hood’s helmet. Then it blinked and in that moment dozens of abstracted cyan eyes blinked into existence around Hood.

Hood reached out to poke at one with the muzzle of his gun. It went right through the ‘eye’. “What the fuck…?”

The bird thing trilled back at Hood.

Tim tapped his comm to open the all channels line. “Um, so, we have… an eldritch bird creature that has been exposed to cuddle pollen. It’s is already cuddling Nightwing and… yep, yeah, now it has Red Hood. Don’t shoot it, Hood! It’s friendly!”

“It’s a fucking menace!”

“A bird?” Robin’s voice piped up.

“Don’t get too excited, baby bat, eldritch bird. It’s the size of an SUV and has too many arms. And eyes. Sorta eyes? And yep, there goes Hood, absorbed by the fluff. Oh great, it’s looking at me now.”

“Avoid the entity, Red Robin,” Batman said across the comms, tone clipped and worried.

“Sorta hard to do, big B. It has a lot of legs right now and all eyes on me. There so many eyes.”

“Avoid the entity!” Batman barked again.

Yeah, like that was going to go well.

-

“Father! Make this creature unhand me at once!” Robin shouted.

“Calm the fuck down, it’s not hurting us,” Red Hood grumbled. “Not that it’s letting us go…”

“Actually pretty comfortable,” Red Robin said in a voice tinged with the edges of sleep. Bruce couldn’t even see a part of Red Robin in the mess of feathers.

Bruce just sighed and pinched his nose. “Boys.”

“Did you just ‘boys’ us?” Nightwing asked, though he sounded like he was enjoying the whole circumstance.

“Yes. Black Bat isn’t involved in this at all,” Bruce said. “So, boys.”

Black Bat’s soft laugh over the line was mostly drowned out by the warble that the bird entity made. Bruce absently started comparing the creature to the types of birds that roosted in Gotham as the surprisingly long neck unfolded and reached out towards him.

He regarded the bird entity steadily.

It warbled again, tilted its head, and then started preening the ears of the cowl.

Bruce sighed heavily.

“Likes you.” Cass’ lyrical words came over the line. Bruce knew that tone. She was taking pictures for blackmail.

(And everyone said girls were easier.)

“I really don’t think it’s going to let us go, B. It might not even be able to with the cuddle pollen,” Nightwing said. Bruce could see the blue tips of the boots now but nothing else.

Bruce hummed. “Gotham doesn’t have the facilities to humanely keep such a creature.”

Robin hit the ground in a crouch and started forward. “Father—”

The bird entity reached out again for Robin with one of its too many limbs. Robin parried with his sheathed blade. The coo that the entity made in response was heart wrenching. Almost instantly Robin deflated at the sound.

He crossed his arms and looked away with a huff. “Fine.”

With a much happier sound, Robin was grabbed carefully around the waist and placed on the bird entity’s back, right behind its next.

“Get off,” Red Robin grumbled from wherever he was in the mass of plumage. Some shifting along the back feathers followed the sleepy words. Then a yawn. “The Cave is the only choice.”

“You can’t be serious,” Red Hood said.

(Bruce thought Red Hood might be clasped firmly under a wing.)

Red Robin yawned again. “Large, secure, safe for us…”

“Yeah, and how the fuck do we get this thing to the Cave?” Red Hood snapped back.

After a considering silence, Black Bat pipped up with that same mischievous lilt. “Idea.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.

Words: 2600

Notes: Possessiveness. Grumpy Feyd. I know it's similar to another one of my fics, but I realized that after the fact, so...

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. Not a wink. You laid in his bed all night, waiting for the man who never came, and your heart didn’t cease its ferocious beats for a second. Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Is he ok? What happened? The sun rises without answers to those questions. 

You shoot up in bed when the door eases open. Expecting to find him, you’re disappointed to see instead his harpies enter one after the other. They don’t look at you. One goes about riffling through your dresses in the closet, one heads into the bathroom and you suddenly hear a rush of water filling the tub, and the last of them goes to the vanity Feyd brought in for you, lining up makeup and hair pins that she intends to use on you. 

The air about them is poised—an echo of who they used to be before they were turned into pets—as, for the moment, their vile, more carnivorous side lies dormant. 

Feyd only allows them to near you a couple hours after they’ve been fed; the peak time between their hunger sated and their bellies rumbling. At any other time, your uniquely foreign scent wafts to their nostrils and they are incapable of holding themselves back. More than a handful of instances—when they’ve managed to manipulate the guards to open their cages with their seductive smiles—they’ve gone on the hunt for you; one time in particular, sneaking into the bedroom in the middle of the night and yanking you from Feyd’s arms with the intention of sinking their teeth into your flesh. Feyd had been so furious he’d cut a finger from each of their hands. 

Still, they don’t scare you. You see in them women not entirely unlike yourself: owned, and therefore, changed. Soft are the women who have had the luxury of marriage and child-rearing in the comforts of wealth and beautiful homes—and good for them; how lovely to be soft—but it is the women who have not a choice in their existence that develop a steel shell. And you and the harpies have steel shells. In that way, they are your kin, and you try to subtly express that when you can, even though their allegiance to Feyd can make that quite difficult.

“Where is he?” you ask. 

They ignore you, continuing with their tasks, and you huff. Yes, sometimes they refuse to speak with you, and always it seems when you need their words most. In the past, you’ve been tempted to dangle your arm in front of their sharpened fangs in the hope that the offering will encourage their cooperation, but you’ve yet to find the bravery for that. Plus, Feyd would lose his mind. Well, he would lose the rest of it. 

“You’ve spoken to me before,” you continue. “Why not now?”

One of them stops and faces you. She glances at her sister who shakes her head. 

“Tell me,” you plead. 

“We are not permitted to speak with you on the matter,” the other says to your frustration. That is not good enough. Regardless of how he sees you and how you feel, he is the one thing keeping you alive on this lifeless planet and you refuse to go about your days worrying over his safety and what his disappearance means for your fate.

You throw the sheets off your legs and stand. 

“I don’t care,” you spit as your silky nightgown falls at your ankles, but then you reconsider your tone. The harpies do not do well with aggression. Being so animalistic, their instincts are easily drawn out, and they tend to attack when attacked, which is not a fight you would win. 

You take a calming breath, placing a hand over your heart. “We are the same. He owns us, he clothes us, he feeds us,” you remind them. “On this planet, I am as much your sister as you are each other’s. We all care about him in a way and if I knew what happened to him, I would have the decency to tell you.”

The harpy who drew your bath returns to the bedroom. Having overheard your words, she crosses her arms and says, “With respect, my Lady, we are not your sisters,” she says. “We have never had him the way you have, and he does not feel for us the way he does you.” 

Your clenched jaw loosens, lips parting. If you had assumed anything about the relationship between Feyd-Rautha and his harpies, it was that they had once been where you are; that when you came along, they lost their rank and became something alike the handmaids from your home world. You’d assumed that when they warmed his bed, their handmaids were the women who entertained him before them, and so on like a disgusting, perverted pattern. But if that is not the case, then your sense of identity is even more confused. Not to mention, nary a soul has referred to you as ‘Lady’ since you were taken from your family. So why show that respect now when Feyd practically stripped you of the title months ago? 

You look to the only one of the three who seems unsure of the situation. She’s biting her lip, worrying the fabric of your unworn gown between her fingers. 

“What about you?” you ask her and her head lifts to meet your eyes. She’s the smallest of them—pixie-esque, like you read in fairytale stories as a child—and despite the core of their primal nature, the gentlest. “You want to tell me.”

The harpy by your vanity hisses, but the gentle one does not shy away at the warning. “She has been kind to us,” she tells her sister in the most self-assured tone you’ve ever heard leave her mouth. 

The sister snaps back. “He instructed us to do one thing: get her ready for the day and act like nothing is wrong. It was not to tell her what happened.”

You lightly gasp. “So something has happened,” you state, feeling your heartbeat quicken. Your chest begins to rise and fall to match the rapid rate. “Is he ok?”

There are a few seconds of silent pause before Pixie stands a little straighter, setting her shoulders in a strong line. “Our Lord na-Baron was answering for the death of his brother.”

Your head jerks back. “Rabban?” you question, your brow pinching. “Rabban is dead?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“And Feyd is the one who killed him?” That doesn’t make any sense. While Feyd has complained enough for you to know Rabban is a bumbling idiot, he eventually found a way for his brother to serve a purpose. Why would he kill a man when he is no longer the nuisance he once was, you wonder, so you ask, “Why?”

“The Lord Rabban…made suggestions,” Pixie tells you. One of the harpies groans as the other shakes her head.

“What suggestions?”

She bites down and swallows hard, then she says, “He suggested that the na-Baron share you for his own pleasure.”

Instantly, you’re hit with a wave of nausea. Share? Share you? The concept of a foreign woman hopping between men of status is not unusual, but at this point, you assumed if Feyd were going to participate in something like that, he would have sent you off already. Not doing so didn’t even surprise you. He’s too possessive. 

“You said he was answering for Rabban’s death,” you say, but answering for that surely wouldn’t have taken so many hours, not when the Baron saw Rabban as a waste of space. “So where is he now?”

—

He doesn’t notice when you step into the training room and you’re thankful for that. You came on a mission to extract more answers out of him, but you don’t mind having a second to admire him sparing against his trainer. 

He’s sweaty. You like him sweaty—sweaty and bare-chested and perfectly, effortlessly mesmerizing as aggressive grunts leave his lips. You silently watch their violent dance, your form mouse-like by the door until his trainer looks up and halts to stare at you. Feyd whips around to follow his line of sight, then he sighs and turns back to the smaller man. He mutters something as he grabs the rag at his belt and runs it down his face. 

The trainer leaves and Feyd places his knife back on the table among many others. “I told them to keep you away today,” he says dully, monotone, not meeting your eyes as he runs his finger over the blade and fiddles with the hilt. “Incompetent brats.” 

“You didn’t come to bed.”

“I was busy,” he responds without letting a beat pass. He continues to avoid your stare and mess with the knives as if he’s never wielded them before.

You slowly step down the stairs into the pit of the room. “Busy killing your brother?” you ask. The muscles in his back twitch and flex under pale skin as he grips the hilt harder. 

“That is none of your concern.” The distance between you lessens until you’re a foot from his back, but he doesn’t turn around. 

“Even though you killed him because of me?” you ask. His neck ticks and his head tilts and shifts to adjust to the tension. When he still doesn’t respond, you try another angle. “Why are your harpies referring to me as their ‘Lady’?”

That seems to do it. Feyd faces you, crosses his arms, and leans his lower back against the table. “You think spending one night without me gives you permission to be nosy?”

You don’t give in to his method of shutting you up by aiming to make you feel silly and guilty. Instead, your eyes narrow and you mirror the crossing of arms. “Why am I a Lady again?”   

“You just are.”  

“Are you sending me home?”

His eyes flash. Blue irises darken a shade. “Don’t be stupid.”

“So I’m a Lady on Giedi Prime?” you ask, dropping your chin to emphasize how ridiculous that sounds. 

The edge of Feyd’s jaw sharpens as he clenches his back teeth. “Stop asking questions.”

“Then answer one,” you say. 

It’s a shot taken by an untrained hand, as he doesn’t enjoy demands, especially not from you, but you figure you have nothing to lose in the attempt, so you don’t cower under his menacing glare. You wait. And much to your surprise, he surrenders. 

He blinks, and when his eyes open, they have softened ever so slightly. Then he says, “You’re marrying me,” and everything from your lungs to your limbs freezes in shock. 

“W–What?” you stutter. That makes less sense than Rabban’s sudden death. 

Feyd groans and stands straight, his arms falling at his sides. “See what being nosy gets you?” he snaps. “I wasn’t going to tell you immediately, and you had to go and ruin it.”

He grabs a fresh knife and stomps his way over to a dummy, ready to attack something other than you for the insecurity that he can’t completely contain. You’ve never witnessed him insecure, but you know the feeling when you see it—the defense mechanism, the distancing himself, the grumbly attitude. 

“I’m not sure I understand,” you press as he slashes and stabs at the soulless victim. “I’m marrying you because you killed your brother for wanting to fuck me?”

With a grunt, the dummy’s head severs from its torso and flies off in your direction. It rolls and rolls and stops just before hitting your feet. The dead eyes stare up at you in silent amusement. Now you’ve done it, they mock.

“I don’t ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, do you understand me?” Feyd growls.

Your eyes shoot to his. “The marrying you part or The your brother fucking me part?”

He tosses the knife aside. It clatters against the ground as he closes in on you. His hand wraps around your neck. “Don't test me,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I will sew your damn lips shut if I have to.”

An empty threat if you’ve ever heard one. He would never harm you, but even if he were going to try, his fingers would need to be squeezing much tighter.

You roll your eyes. “Well then how am I going to suck your cock?”

Something about the tease stuns him. His tense features immediately settle and his whole body eases with his exhale. Glancing at your lips, he licks his own, and you think he might decide to kiss you—after all, it’s been a good twenty-four hours since the last one—but he doesn’t.

You snort. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.”

Long fingers unwrap from around your neck. “You’re not funny,” he mumbles with an odd sense of shame.

“If you don’t find me entertaining, can you maybe take the time to explain all of this better?”   

Feyd considers keeping his mouth shut. You know him well enough to know that. However, it’s ridiculous to contemplate since he’s already spilled the bigger news. Nothing could be more shocking than you, after the bed-warming position you’ve held for months, becoming his wife. 

“My uncle was going to take you away from me for killing Rabban,” he finally says. “So I told him I've had plans to marry you for the alliance and that's why I refused to share you. Rabban wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he had to die.”

Raising a brow, you say, “The Baron accepted that explanation? My House may be one of the Greats, but we do not offer much for Giedi Prime.”

Feyd shrugs. “My uncle enjoys anything that causes upset. Marrying me means we will always own something very valuable to your family.”

It would likely offend another, but you don’t mind being owned. While the Baron may believe the Harkonnens as a whole will own you, you belong to Feyd and Feyd alone. He’ll never allow anyone to hurt you and now he’ll never have to fight or argue with anyone to stake his claim, which works for you just fine, to say the very least. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

Your head tilts as you smile. “Caring enough to protect me.”

“Don't flatter yourself,” he says. “I didn't do it for you, I did it for my own benefit.”

Your sweet smile morphs into a smirk. “The benefit being that you get to keep me all to yourself…for the rest of your life.”

With a scoff, Feyd rolls his eyes and crosses his arms again. “Whatever.”

“Feyd…” you sigh, leaning into him.

“What?” he returns in his snarky tone as if he doesn’t want you near, but he doesn’t step out of the bubble of your space.

“I'm happy.”

A pink tinge sneaks onto his pale skin, and he quickly looks away. And before he has a chance to come up with some witty remark to smack you with, you grab his face and press your lips to his. 

You hold on to him until he starts to kiss you back, and then he's reaching for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, and you know you won't be going anywhere for a good long while.

[katszumi]

part one but can be read as a standalone!

today’s the day— the six year reunion for all the graduated u.a students. the day bakugou was internally dreading.

he didn’t want to attend, but because of shitty hair, he basically had no other choice. he thought it was stupid, annoying even considering the fact he still works with some of his old classmates.

plus, bakugou was never the type to attend gatherings. he hated the loud noise, busy moving bodies, and the useless small talk people had just to be respectful. none of it was apart of bakugou’s persona, not even his pr managers could change that.

but, he also knows the slight possibility of you being there. he knows someone extended the invite to you, back then every single classmate loved you.

since the night he rudely brushed you off, you haven’t been in contact with him once. his messages still delivered green, and you unable to show on any of his social media. for him, you only existed as a fragment of his memory other than the times you appear on television or the news.

you seemed to be thriving in america. the first year you went, he remembers seeing an article online on how you quickly climbed the ranks in america, the americans instantly adoring everything about you. despite your hero name and quirk, fans began to relate you to a siren, claiming how you were too captivating and powerful to be true. soon, citizens also began to recognize you as the star-spangled siren.

no doubt, bakugou thought it was hilarious. it was something so incredibly stupid. but it was also a reminder that you accomplished your dream. you were a great hero. all of your fears from six years ago were disregarded, and you proved to yourself that you built yourself up by yourself with no support system.

he always knew you were the strongest within the class. maybe that’s why he always felt so weak in front of you. he didn’t stand a chance against you, especially when he finds your figure standing by the bar.

you were messing with your drink, engaging in conversation with mina and ochako. those were the girls always attached at your hip back then.

at first he questions himself whether to squeeze himself in the conversation, or to leave you be. he figured that if you wanted to talk to him then you would’ve reached out years ago.

but before he could act on anything, your gaze meets his. it feels like time on every clock comes to a halt.

he takes in your new differences from the last time he saw you. you grew an inch or two taller, which he found hilarious since you used to pray to be taller. you’re a little more tan; bakugou remembering somewhere in a textbook that the states received more hours of sunlight than japan. you’ve matured more in your face; you were always the girl he found cute. but now, your gazing eyes were more fierce, your pouting lips that he often found himself sneaking glances at were parted, and your newly developed body; your arms were more toned, your body a tad more curvaceous.

enamored wasn’t even the right word to describe bakugou. an understatement even.

it’s all too strange how he felt a pulsation in his chest, his heart hammering from the small moment of eye-contact. he believed that he got over you, coming to terms that there’d never be a chance that you’d talk to him with dancing eyes and a grin on your face like before. but, oh boy, was he wrong.

guilt immersed him. he was angry with himself for treating you like you didn’t matter. everything you said that day, you were right. he didn’t tell you anything related to his emotions, he was avoiding you for weeks, and he was a dick for simply letting you go. he knew all of this, even years ago he realized. bakugou wasn’t the type to go back on his word nor apologize.

but in order for you to talk to him with even a fake smile on your face, he would have to do just that. though, it was you— he wouldn’t mind getting down on both knees, begging for you to forgive him if he had to.

pathetic, bakugou would say, who in their right mind would do something like that? but he would. because six years later, bakugou was still pathetically in love with you.

mina noticed your shift in eye, so she peered over her shoulder, searching the area for what grabbed your attention. it was quick the way she noticed it was him that snatched your breath. her eyes widened for a small moment before turning her head once again.

mina was probably talking shit about him, that was no surprise. even though he and mina got together well, you and mina were attached at the hip; she valued you more than him. he easily read mina’s body language, you must’ve told mina the situation long ago from the way she placed her palm on your arm and rubbed it gently.

unfortunately, he didn’t care if you or mina would be frustrated with his audacity. if anything, everything he was going to do from this point on was because he cared so much about you. so fuckin’ much he’d drain the ocean dry to prove his love to you.

bakugou had only fallen in love twice. once with you and once with a mirror. one, a destructive on-going path without a clear result. one, someone so far-fetched yet still warm and beautiful. someone that eventually in time becomes part of the oxygen he needs to breathe.

the mirror was the first-choice. becoming the number one hero was his only objective, no matter the opportunity cost, he was going to do anything to reach his goal. halfway through, he realized he chose wrong.

there was no point in reaching the goal without you. you were his hands and feet, so why did he expect himself to be okay with the situation he caused?

bakugou hated defeat, he already knows that. but he’d be damned if he allowed you to slip through his fingers once more.

and just like that, his legs are moving towards you and mina. his mind consisted of nothing; he had no words ready for you, no apology prepared. he just sees you and, like always, he needs to be in your vicinity.

as he marches towards you, he realizes that it’s always been like this, him chasing you to his hearts desire. at the beginning, it was a light jog nothing that would cause him to break a sweat. soon it turned into a full-blown sprint, the gap between you and him seeming to increase every day.

before he could muster anything to say, he makes it to you. he keeps his distance from you so you don’t run away, but enough that he can see the pores on your face.

you ogle at him, your face twisted a bit. mostly likely from the surprise of him trudging towards you as if nothing happened. mina rolled her eyes at him as she folded her arms.

“bakugou, don’t be one of those.” mina started.

“one of what?!”

she scoffed. “one of those obsessive guys when they realized they’ve lost a gem because they were stupid as fuck.” mina him a ‘that’s you’ look. “don’t come crawling back now.”

bakugou opened his mouth to object mina, prepared to go off on her. just a week ago, she was chatting it up with him, kirishima, and denki, no animosity found in any of her statements. but since you were here, she supposed she had to play the part as the protective best-friend.

but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

“it’s fine, mina.”

your voice was still the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. so gentle and euphonious. he wanted to thank the heavens on the earth for allowing him this opportunity again even when he’s a shitty guy. he didn’t deserve you, he knew that, but he couldn’t bypass the overwhelming feeling of yearning you.

he shifted in his position, clearly shocked that you didn’t seem to hate the fact he was standing within your vicinity.

mina also shocked, raised a brow at her best-friend. “you sure babes?” you nodded in response. the pink colored woman leaned into her ear, whispering god-knows what, before walking away with ochako to leave you and him alone.

you faced bakugou fully now, your eyes taking in the subtle distinctions he’s made over the years. bakugou always was one of the strongest in the class, but even now, he developed into a rigorous man. you can tell he’s shaved recently, the small hairs on his chin slowly starting to form. his eyes are more relaxed, seeming more generous.

alike him, you too kept post on bakugou in japan. you’d frequently find yourself searching him on the internet to wonder how he’s doing. just like he told you and everyone else at u.a, he was now the number one hero of japan. he proved to all his doubters that he could do it.

you were proud of him, internally rooting him on from 6,303 miles away. however, externally, you masked a look of resentment for him.

he broke your heart when he pushed you away. you didn’t understand why it was so difficult for him to come clean about things, especially when it came to you.

you had enough of it.

or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, hoping for your heart to believe it as your mind did.

“hi,” you said. he could tell you were nervous from the way your hand slightly trembled. “long time no see.”

bakugou anxiously chuckled, “yeah.” he instinctively ran his fingers through his hair as he swallowed nothing. “look, i’m not even going to waste any time with this. y/n, i am so fuckin’ sorry.” his tone softened, coming from the deepest part of him. you can’t recall a time where his voice ever sounded so tender like this.

“kat—” you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“no, i mean it. i am sorry for being a coward. i was a fool for treating you like you didn’t matter to me when that wasn’t the case, it was never the case. you were too good for me and that scared me. i’m rough on the outside, i couldn’t imagine savoring someone so mellow. i’m a pathetic asshole, a bitch, a cunt.”

you reached forward to place your hand on his wrist. “don’t say such things about yourself, katsuki. you are not any of those things.”

“don’t be good with me. i don’t deserve to be treated this way. give me the punishment i deserve for causing you anguish.” he begged. unknowingly, his hands slipped into yours. you could feel his sweat accumulate, his shaky hands.

all of this just for you to forgive him. how could you ever despise him when he’s an emotional wreck in the palm of your hands?

“it’s okay, katsuki. i’ve come to forget about it years ago. you’re one of the best things to happen to me during my adolescence. we were young and we both said things we didn’t mean back then.” bakugou looks at you with a pout. “i forgive you.”

you pull bakugou into a hug, wrapping your arms around him. you almost had forgotten how much bigger his figure was compared to yours until he bear-hugs you.

“how long are you staying until you leave for america?” he asks.

“i was going to wait till the end of the night to share this, but i was never one to hold secrets from you.” you released bakugou from the hug, a smile tugging your lips. “i’m coming back to japan.”

“what? but america… why?” he scrambled for words.

you lightly shrugged, “not my kind of place. i also really missed my home.”

“fuckin’ hell,” his words trailed off. bakugou couldn’t imagine the happiness that was coming from him right now. in his mind, he thanked kirishima for dragging him here. “i’m so relieved.”

you laughed, one that bakugou could tell wasn’t fake. he couldn’t help but to smile. he was finally talking to you, the woman he loved, after six long years. he was unsure if he could survive another minute of you ignoring him.

“so, back then, did you?”

“did i what?”

“back then, did you like me? did i really mean something to you?”

bakugou tried to remember if you were ever this dense? what a stupid fuckin’ question, bakugou thinks.

“you were the first person ever to tell me to have desires and to not hold back.” he explains. “did i like you? y/n, i loved you. every part of you, i loved. hell, i still do.” it seemed easier for him to confess, maybe it was from the adrenaline he was feeling in this moment.

but he didn’t care, if anything he was glad. you needed to hear it just as much he needed to admit it to himself.

“then, let’s start over, katsuki. let’s ditch this place, i know you’re not a big fan of parties anyway.”

bakugou knows all too well, he loves it how you remember the smallest parts of him. he loves your consideration and emotional warmth that you’re always quick to offer. even though, the gates were open for you to leave, you stayed.

he knew that his love for you would last a lifetime and would always welcome you with sweet grace and a humble gratitude.

all he can do is nod in response, hoping to suppress his racing heartbeat.

bakugou takes your hand to lead you to the exit of the party. “my job here is done anyway.”

@b134ch-m4h-ey3z @bsallergy

[octoberautumnbox]

The Cute and Caring Noona from Apartment 424

CLC/Kep1er Choi Yujin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, older girl, undisclosed age gap (nothing creepy tho), soft dom Yujin, titsucking, nursing handjob, cowgirl, creampie, breeding, overstimulation a lil bit

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: discordant waltz chapter alr planned out dw i just wanted to switch things up a lil, this was a blast to write :D 

“Hey, so good to see you! Come in!” 

You take off your shoes and Yujin pulls you in for a hug. The aroma of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies fills your nostrils and sends your stomach growling. 

“Hi, Noona. It's great to see you again.” You back away from the hug, but Yujin keeps you within arm's length with her dainty hands on your shoulders. You admire her simple yet adorable outfit, which only compliments her bright personality.

“Take a seat, cookies are still cooling down but dinner is ready!” 

She plops you down at the dining table and sets your plate and silverware. While she buzzes from cupboard to table and back, you draw your eyes from one tiny dish to the next. Kimchi, lettuce leaves, cheese cubes, the works. At the center of the table is a small grill, with a pan sitting on top and evidently expensive cuts of beef like what they go crazy for in variety shows sizzling enticingly. 

You keep from drooling at the last second at the feast before you, and you manage to choke out, “Wow, are we expecting more people, Noona? This looks delicious.”

“No, just the two of us,” Yujin says cheerfully as she places your chopsticks at the right side of your plate. “Too much?”

“Way too much! You really pamper me whenever I come by. Thanks, Yujin-noona.” 

She chuckles cutely while covering her mouth with a finger. “You visit too rarely for a neighbor. Come by more often and I can tone down the food, okay?” 

She takes her seat next to you and squeezes your hand. Skillfully and quickly, she picks up a piece of beef from the pan, a leaf of lettuce, just the right amount of kimchi, a leaf of perilla, and finally a cube of cheese. She presents you with the expertly made wrap and brings it to your mouth, saying “Ahhh.”

~~~

She sets the plate of cookies on the coffee table in front of you as you offer her the other half of the blanket. She joins you on the couch and shuffles right up to you, placing her head on your shoulder and bringing your arm around her. 

The movie starts playing and the necessary studio intro clips crescendo onto the screen. “This is one of my favorites. You'll love it too.” She snuggles more comfortably into your side and sighs a breath of relaxation. Squeeze her shoulder, tell her wordlessly that you're excited to love this movie as well.

~~~

You come to, and groggily you look around. It's of little help, as the TV shut itself off sometime ago and the lights are all out. You feel a shifting weight beside you and your face suddenly fills with a scratchy texture and the sweetest scent you've probably ever smelled in your life, no doubt a faceful of your neighbor’s hair. 

“Yujin-noona, wake up. We fell asleep and the movie's over.” 

You try to shake her awake gently, and it works. Yujin sits up slowly and tries checking the time on her phone. After the initial short-lived blindness, she sets it down and rubs her eyes. 

“It's late. Sleep over. No buts.” Knowing you had no choice, you submit and help her help you walk and stumble yourselves up the stairs and to her bedroom. 

She plugs a star-shaped night light into a low wall socket and the pair of you fall into the bed. You cuddle into her side this time and she graciously wraps you in her arms. The smell of her hair and her bedsheets fill your nostrils again with a calming fragrance.

However, in an act of dastardly betrayal, your brain for whatever reason thinks your sweet beloved neighbor Yujin-noona is… something more. As you take in more and more of her scent, and gaze up from her side to see the way her eyes are shut lighty and her lips are slightly parted as light snores slip through, your heart beats a different rhythm as if just now realizing and admiring the beauty that is Choi Yujin. 

“This can’t possibly be,” you think to yourself, “she’s my neighbor and very close friend. I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this.” You continue to fight down your subconscious feelings from bubbling up into your conscious mind, but the fullness of your tummy and the comfiness of the way you’re in bed with her prove it a challenge. 

“Something wrong? What are you thinking about?” You’re taken aback by Yujin’s sudden words. “Are you okay? Tell Yujin-noona what you need.” She rubs her eyes again and meets your gaze. In possibly the worst stroke of luck you could ever have had in this life, as she negotiates her hand back under the covers, she comes into light contact with you in the middle of you pitching a tent in your pants.

“... Oh.” is all Yujin could get out before you turn beet-red and stutter your apologies. 

“Shit, Noona, I’m so sorry! I- I should go- I’m sorry.” Your mind fills with shame at how you’ve ruined such a nice and pure friendship with your lovely neighbor. You try to stumble out from under the blanket, pushing Yujin away, but once again she places her dainty hand on your shoulder.

“Stop that right now. Come here.” Her command is mild but assertive. She lifts up the blanket to welcome you back, patting the space beside her in her bed. You sheepishly rejoin her under the fluffy covers, but before you settle, she makes another set of commands.

“This is my house, so for me to be a good host, you will tell me anything and everything you need. That includes this,” she whispers breathily, palming the growing bulge in your pants, “Most. Of. All.”

You can do nothing but whimper at her unrelenting touch. It doesn’t help that she’s already fiddling with the waistband of your underwear and wrestling it out of her way. What’s worse, your position in bed with her makes it impossible for you to look anywhere but to meet her eyes, or maybe…

“Use your words, baby boy, tell Noona exactly what you need.” An evil grin forms across her mouth, painting her features with a sinister shade of lust. 

“Noona… Could you please…” The words barely struggle out of your mouth, and even then you’re not saying anything of value. Yujin only chuckles more, covering her mouth with one finger, before prodding you incrementally yet ever closer to the edge.

“I can’t read minds, baby boy. You’re going to have to do better than that.” 

“Noona, your… your top, please. Take it off.” Wide-eyed, you watch as she grabs the piece of clothing by the hem and starts pulling up. Her belly button comes into your view as she goes on tantalizingly slowly revealing more of her creamy skin to your hungry eyes. 

The top then clears past her ribs, and she slows down ever so slightly, keeping you on the edge. You choose to relieve some of the pressure in your crotch yourself by stroking your dick to the unbelievably lewd sight, but Yujin has other plans.

“No, bad boy. Only Noona gets to play with that tonight.” In saying so, she lets go of her top, covering everything she showed you so far, to swat your hands away from masturbating. A deep sense of regret fills you, knowing that only you could be blamed for delaying your pleasure. However, Yujin seems satisfied that you learned your lesson and resumes her striptease.

She reaches a critical point in her teasing, bunching up all of the fabric so far right under her boobs. Her nipples poke through the thin fabric, and you fight the urge to just dive into her tits and ravage them to your heart’s desire. She relishes in the burning gaze you’re subjecting her to, as if getting off to being ogled by her neighbor and best friend. She grows a few shades redder in the face to match yours, but ultimately she pulls her top up past her breasts, freeing them and letting them bounce. With the top now only covering her neck and shoulders, she opts to tease you more:

“Like what you see?” she asks sultrily while winking at you. She cups each of her tits with her hands, presenting them to you, and tweaking her nipples to get them hard for you. Yujin takes her lower lip between her teeth, obviously growing more and more aroused at the thought of letting you take her right then and there.

You try to find some spit in your mouth to swallow, but it’s dry as a desert and you’re left breathless instead. You swear that you could just die right there and be happy with the life you’ve lived so far, and with how your noona is treating you, you just might actually pass.

“Baby boy, I’ll say again: Tell Noona exactly what you need.” Her top finally leaves her body and she shows herself off to you. Her fingers snake through her hair and you’re blessed with an unobstructed view of the most luscious tits you’ve ever seen. 

“I want…” You try forcing words out of your mouth again, but Yujin makes the job (and you) so extremely hard. “I want to suck your tits.”

“Not with that attitude, mister. I am your Noona and you will speak to me with respect.” She’s got you now, her deadly scold wringing your neck and cutting off what little airflow your lungs had. You’re left with no choice; submit to her will.

“Yujin-noona, please let me suck your tits, please…” Your tongue hangs out of your mouth, anticipating the imminent pleasure of her boobs on your face. It means the world to you when she places a hand behind your head and pulls you closer.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby boy? Say ahhh…” You follow her command and she gently pushes her left breast into your mouth. Her skin tastes delicious, and her nipple is just the right stiffness to lick and nibble and worship.

She guides you to a more comfortable position, and you find yourself laying down while Yujin is on her side, still with her boob in your mouth, while she pulls your arm towards her right boob to fondle and grope as you please. 

“Is my precious baby boy comfy?” she asks much too cutely for what she’s making you do to her. “Yesh noona, ahm conhfy…” you mutter out with your tongue still wrapped around her nipple. 

“Good boy…” she moans breathily. While you’re taking your fill of her perfect body, she makes her desires known: she wants you too. 

Yujin finds your cock again and strokes it through your pants. “Baby boy, do me a favor, would you?” Her request makes itself apparent with the way she’s reaching under your waistband, and you could do nothing but oblige and strip yourself as quickly as possible of both pants and underwear.

“My perfect baby boy…” Her tone is laced with venom as your musk reaches her nostrils. She places a fingertip on the slit of your cock and spreads your precum all over the head. “What I’d give to do to your cock what you’re doing to my tits right now…”

Her pace speeds up, and while you have half a mind to ask her to slow down, you know you have no right to ask her of that. Instead, you go for the next best thing.

“Yujin-noona,” you surrender, her breast falling out of your mouth and onto your cheek, “could you please let me fuck your pussy?”

She chuckles again, but more evilly this time. “Of course, my sweet baby boy, but you’re gonna have to follow my lead.” 

“Anything for you, Noona.”

She places you properly down onto the bed, making sure you’re comfy, and plants a kiss on your cheek. She forces you to watch, with a hand on your cheek guiding your face, as she peels off her shorts to show you more of her skin: her smooth legs, creamy thighs, and plump ass you now have the pleasure to grope as much as she’s willing to let you. She climbs on top of and straddles you, the large wet spot on her pink-and-white striped panties nearly leaking her juices onto her thighs, before she takes your hard and throbbing cock into her hands again. 

“Will you be my good baby boy, sweetheart?” She spits into her hand and rubs it all over your dick, causing you to groan in pleasure.

“Yes…” “Yes, what, hmm?”

“... Yes, noona, I’ll be your good baby boy…”

“Perfect, just what I wanted to hear.” She pulls her panties to the side and rubs the head of your cock against her soaked folds. The heat radiating from her sex spurs you on even more, the delayed gratification of slipping into her causing your breaths to heave. Yujin takes on sharp inhales and slow exhales as well each time she teases her clit with your head.

Deciding to finish teasing you, Yujin finally gives you what you’re craving. She sinks down slowly onto your cock, making sure to feel every single vein inside her. Her descent is slow and deliberate and you watch as more and more of your length slips past her pussy lips and into her tight cunt.

“Ffffuck, baby boy, you’re going to split me in half with a cock like this…” 

It starts to overwhelm you: the warmth from her slick, the tightness of her cunt, the clenching of her walls against your cock as if desperate for a climax as early as this. You surely want your noona like this for much longer than just a few seconds more, but you’re in absolutely no control at all.

“Baby boy, tell me if you’re close, okay?” You nod furiously, and Yujin drops herself violently onto your crotch, pushing every last inch of your cock into her cunt. “Ah, fuck! Yes, baby boy, fuck me with this thick cock of yours!”

Grab her tiny waist, feel her smooth skin, pull her up ever so slightly. Then, pull her back down onto your dick, feeling her walls clench around you so needily again. The pair of you find a rhythm, and not long after, Yujin herself bounces up and down on your shaft like a pogo stick.

“Shit, baby boy, you feel so fucking good!” She somehow finds little adjustments that push you deeper and deeper into her cunt, and in turn you hit her good spots more and more. It gets progressively more difficult to keep from creampie-ing her right then and there, but you fight for more time to receive her love.

With every thrust into her core, Yujin falters ever so slightly. You notice between her lewd moans and grunts that she’s arching forward, slowly but surely bringing her closer and closer to you. Eventually she gives up trying to stay upright, and she falls forward only to catch herself with her elbows planting deep into the mattress on either side of your head. 

“Tempting, no? Hah, hah, come on, my sweet, good baby boy, give ‘em a little suck.” Barely registering the lewd words coming out of her mouth, you take her right nipple in between your teeth. Tug respectfully, but tug hard. The sensation of your teeth on her sensitive nub drives her insane, bringing her to the heights of her pleasure, and somehow even higher still. She lets you know just how blissful she is with groans and pleas you can’t help but indulge.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me! My god, yes, please, harder,” and many more nonsense filler words spill from her mouth while you fill her cunt again and again and again. The more she rides you, the more her sweet and tight cunt leaks her juices all over her bed, causing the wet spot to make itself known to you once it grew big enough under her. At the same time, you struggle harder and harder to get your own body under control, fighting back your orgasm for just a bit more time with her like this, just a bit more.

“N- Noona, it feels so good, you feel so fucking good on my cock, Yujin-noona…” You’re completely at her mercy, and her mercy is heaven. With every bounce she makes on your cock you grow harder and hornier for her, only to be welcomed into what might be the wettest, neediest, fullest pussy in the world. You can’t get enough of her: not your cock pistoning into her cunt and poking at the entrance to her womb, not your mouth sucking and biting desperately at the flesh of her perky tits, not your hands roaming all over her body and groping every part of her you can. 

“Baby boy, you’re making Noona feel so fucking good too,” she confesses hazily, and only then you notice that her eyes are falling half–shut and her straining to keep riding you. Her thighs are jiggling with her trembling core, and you figure out that she’s been spraying her girlcum all over your crotch for who knows how long now. 

Her pussy only serves your cock so much better now, wetter and slicker and definitely tighter with how her pussy refuses to let you go. The feeling of her hips convulsing against you almost nearly pushes you over the edge yourself, you’re trying so hard to hold off, but she’s so cute and caring, and she’s so fucking hot…

“Noona, I- I’m so fucking close, Noona!” But Yujin is long gone, lost in her continuous orgasm, doomed to keep leaking from her cunt and mouth and riding you without her better judgment to stop. Wherever Yujin is in the confines of her mind must be drowning in pleasure to keep fucking herself on you like this.

You’re gone too, as even though you know it wouldn’t be that hard to pull her tight body off you yourself, you’re completely in love with the idea of cumming just like this. Your cock buried deep inside your friendly neighbor Choi Yujin, who fed you, hung out with you, treated you like a real brother, only to take advantage of her dazed state of mind to paint her velvet walls white with your cum, filling her to the brim with your baby-making seed, subjecting her to the motherhood of your child…

“Baby boy, do it, shoot all of it inside, sweetheart. Fill Noona up. It’s okay.” On primal instinct, you let out a low growl and grip her ass roughly. Only now do you notice how much she was moaning loudly right into your ear, tinnitus ringing a high-pitched and dizzying tone that wouldn’t stop. Your arms and legs burn with how hard and fast you’re manhandling Yujin’s body, fucking her like a wild animal that knew nothing but sex. She hasn’t stopped orgasming, you feel her slick spread more over your crotch. Her elbows finally give out and she collapses onto you, fully vulnerable to you.

“I’m Noona’s good baby boy” is your last thought before your orgasm takes over your mind. Thrust deeper than ever into her core, shoot your seed straight into her womb. Her strained voice makes one final effort to scream her earth-shattering ecstasy as each spurt of your spunk shoves itself into her, eventually forcing her cunt to leak both her and your cum out in globs. You even lose yourself in the throes of pleasure and forget that you might be hurting her; all you need to know is that her body is yours to use and breed as you like. Keep pistoning into her all the while your cock sprays your love deep into her fertile body, one spurt, two, three, five, eight, eleven, before you lose count and just focus on feeling good with your cute and caring noona. 

Once the world stops spinning and calms down, you find yourself dizzy and gasping for air through a dry-as-a-desert mouth. With fatigue plaguing every part of your body, you can’t even find the strength to get into a less uncomfortable position. Your eyes try to drift lazily across the ceiling, getting your bearings, but Yujin has one last command for you.

“My sweet baby boy, you did so well for Noona. Get your rest, baby.” She places her hand on your eyes, pushing them shut. She keeps her hand there, making sure you don’t open your eyes again while you feel her lips planting kisses on your face, trailing a line from your cheek to your neck. Finally, she licks and then nibbles your lower lip lightly, rewarding you for doing such a good job. 

“B-but what about the mess? And you might get preg–” “Shush now, let Noona worry about that, okay? Sweet dreams, baby boy.”

You stand no chance against her; your fatigue takes over your body and the calmness of the air lulls you into a sense of serenity. As the final nail in the coffin, Yujin refuses to get off of you despite your best attempts at pulling out and pushing her off. Without even realizing it, you fall deep asleep amidst her comforting weight, tender kisses, and soft coos.

~~~

a/n: i went into this fic blind actually. only when I was about half done did I think to check if yujin was actually good at cooking at all but turns out shes not :/

[bucksangel]

you taste like suburbia

pairing: mafia!stucky x reader (poly), john walker x reader but not for long

word count: 6.4k

summary: your lousy boyfriend John Walker owes quite a bit of money to some pretty shady people. And since he doesn’t have the means to pay, he’s brought you along to a negotiation to meet them - and hopefully entice them into accepting a different form of payment.

warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con kind of, a tiny bit of stalking/dark behavior (it’s only hinted at), voyeurism i guess?, vaginal fingering, oral (f & m receiving), threesome, poly relationship, petnames (princess, kitten, beautiful), daddy kink, sir kink, unprotected p in v, a little bit of misogyny (not from stucky), not john walker friendly, mentioned verbal abuse, mention of murder (you have to squint and turn your head 90 degrees)

a/n: this is based off this post and @crazyunsexycool ‘s very amazing comments (title is from ‘suburbia’ by devon again)

tip jar | masterlist

“It’s simple, really.” The men across from you have been staring you down this whole time, eyes barely leaving your body and that’s only to occasionally glance at the man sitting next to you. And though they’re looking at you, you know their words aren’t directed your way. No. It’s for John.

John Walker; your shitty boyfriend who, apparently, has got himself into a lot of trouble with some pretty shady people. You don’t know much, you just know that he has a debt to pay and he doesn’t have the funds.

And you’re not stupid, you know how this will go. Your relationship with John started good, great in fact, but then he fell back into his old gambling ways a few months in. You wanted to leave, to kick him to the curb the moment he asked you for money to cover some bills. But you were too kind-hearted for your own good and felt the need to help him just because you loved him. But the deeper into trouble he’s gotten the less he’s actually cared about you, too focused on getting his debts paid off so he doesn’t get a bullet in his head.

Thus, you’re here. Forced to wear that dark red, wrap-around dress that shows just enough to be desired in the hopes that will entice the men across from you into accepting a different form of payment. Fifteen minutes into the ‘meeting’ you can already tell that they’re going to accept. And you don’t really know what to do in this situation, you know you don’t really have a say in how this plays out, but some part of you doesn’t really mind. Part of you is glad you’ll finally be free from John’s bullshit.

It just helps that the men your boyfriend owes money to are extremely attractive. Both men don dark black suits, white button-ups, and sleek black ties. And the brunette - Bucky, maybe? - smirks when he catches your eye after having been staring at his hand grasping a cigarette for a few moments before glancing up at his face. With a wink, he turns his head towards his partner - Steve, if you remember correctly.

“You owe us quite a bit of money, but you already knew that. We also know that you don’t have the means to pay us.”

From beside you, you can feel John shaking in his seat. With just a glance in his direction, you can see the beads of sweat forming around his hairline at Steve’s commanding tone.

“We’re assuming that’s why you brought her, isn’t it?” With that question, both men look back at you, the hunger in their eyes is prominent. And part of you wants to cower in your chair, to wrap your arms around your body and hide from their intense gazes. But a bigger part of you likes it, craves being desired. Lord knows John hasn’t looked at you like that in a long while.

“Um,” John stops himself, seems to not know what exactly to say. But then Bucky raises one of his eyebrows and John is quick to continue. “Y-Yes, sirs.”

Steve hums, bringing up his glass to take a long sip of his liquor of choice. Bucky takes a short drag of his cigarette before speaking up.

“And if we don’t accept the arrangement?”

John starts really vibrating out of his seat now, both of his legs bouncing furiously. One of his hands rubs over the back of his other, and he gulps loudly.

“I-I don’t… Please. I don’t have the money right now. And, she’s good in bed. She’ll listen to whatever you say, so she’ll please you guys whenever you need, she can even cook and clean so she can be a maid for you too.”

His words make you want to vomit, talking about you like you’re nothing more than a whore, a piece of meat to be passed around and commanded. Your eyes narrow, glaring over at your asshole boyfriend as you begin to pick at your fingernails with a mixture of anxiety and anger.

Steve surprises you by slamming his glass down onto the dark oak desk in front of him, some of the liquid inside spilling out.

“And what makes you think you can talk about a woman like that?” His voice is booming, and the tension in the air is palpable. It’s hard to hide the smile that wants to spread across your face, but you manage to not show your smugness when John sits up straight and begins sputtering out an apology.

“Enough,” Bucky says, taking another long drag and then putting out the cigarette. As he exhales out the smoke, he makes sure to blow it in your boyfriend’s direction, and you have to look down at your lap to prevent the men from seeing your smirk at the show of dominance.

With a glance at his partner, they seem to have a silent conversation before Steve nods, looking back at John while Bucky looks at you.

“We’ll accept. If nothing else then to get her away from you.”

Even with the passive-aggressive comment, you can see the way John’s body visibly relaxes, and can hear the sigh of relief that passes through his lips.

You on the other hand don’t quite know what to do. Yeah, you’re glad you’ve found a way out of this toxic relationship, but you’re also very aware that this major adjustment in your life was made without your consent or input. This thought immediately makes all the satisfaction drain from your body, and you keep your gaze averted so the men across from you can’t see the underlying fear growing in your eyes.

Because you don’t know these men. You’ve never even heard of them until now. All you know is that anyone connected to the dark underworld that is the mafia couldn’t possibly be a good person. For a moment, you’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realize all of the men are staring at you.

“Wh-What?” Your throat is a little dry due to not having spoken in a while, and you try your hardest not to let your voice waver.

“Are you okay with this?” Steve asks with an uncharacteristically soft smile and calm voice. He’s asking you how you feel about this? Why? Shouldn’t this be the end, the part where your boyfriend leaves and you uproot your life to live as payment for his debts?

Apparently not.

“Why are you asking me?” Confusion is laden in your tone, your eyebrows furrowing and your fingers picking at your nails even harsher.

“Because, beautiful,” Bucky starts, waving to a red-headed woman who suddenly appears with water for you. “We don’t want you thinking this is purely transactional. You’re not property, you’re a grown woman and you deserve to have a say in your life. If you don’t want to come with us, that’s okay. We’ll extend our contract with your dear boyfriend.”

Steve speaks up next.

“But if you do want to come with us, we’ll show you how real men treat ladies.” His eyes grow hungry for half a second, then return to that unnerving adoring gaze.

Everything grows silent for a moment, everyone awaiting your answer. As you look over at John, his face is contorted in fear of what they’ll do if you deny them, and anger - silently demanding that you say yes. And, looking over at him, you finally realize he’s never been who you thought he was. Even when he was being an asshole, when he would steal from you, when he would yell and scream and verbally abuse you because he lost even more money, you were so blinded by trying to help him that you couldn’t accept that you were being used.

Now, you know. You know that even if you don’t know these men, the fact that they’re even asking for your opinion says more than anything John could ever do. With one final look at him, you sigh, looking Steve in the eyes.

“I’ll go with you.”

Not only does John visibly relax, but you can see some of the tension leave Bucky and Steve’s bodies, almost like they were hoping that you would say yes.

“It’s settled then.” Steve’s smile turns into a sly smirk, and he momentarily shifts his gaze to John. “Your debt has been paid.”

John tries thanking him, tries to thank the men for sparing his life, but Bucky cuts him off by clearing his throat.

“Don’t think you’re getting away with that comment, though.”

With that, Steve nods at the redhead who comes to stand behind John. In one swift movement, she puts one hand on his shoulder and one hand grabs the inside of his elbow, and she twists. The sounds of his bones cracking are loud, but his screams are louder, his cries of pain reverberating throughout the office. And, as much as you want to feel bad for him, you can’t find it in you to do so. The last two years have been hell for you, and seeing him in pain feels a little like payback for all the pain he caused you. You simply sit there and stare as the woman grabs both of his shoulders and hauls him up, ignoring his cries while dragging him to the door.

The woman follows him out, leaving just you and the two men. For a moment, neither of you speaks, almost like you’re all waiting for the other person to say something.

“So, um. What happens now?” You look at Bucky as he stands and walks around the desk, holding his hand out and encouraging you to grab it. Once you do, you let him help you stand and move you so you’re nearly pressed against his body, a heavy, black metal hand settling on your waist as he brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles.

“Now we take you home,” Bucky says softly, staring deep into your eyes and tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

“We’ll have our associates pick up your things,” Steve says, suddenly standing so close behind you that you can feel the heat from his body. His large hands settle on your shoulders, gently massaging your muscles and allowing any remaining tension in your body to slip away.

“And you won’t have to worry about anything for the rest of your life.” Bucky presses his body against yours further, holding your gaze for a long while before he leans down to place a delicate kiss on your cheekbone, very close to your ear. “Your only concern will be taking care of us, and letting us take care of you.”

In order to not moan you have to clear your throat, focusing all of your attention on not melting into a puddle at their feet. Steve leans down to place a kiss on your other cheek, sighing softly as though he’s been waiting for this. You hesitantly place one hand on Bucky’s arm and one on Steve’s hand, and he immediately threads your fingers together.

“Home?” Bucky asks, pulling away to look into your eyes.

“Home,” You say without a second thought, already liking the idea of being with them, being theirs.

____________

You all get back to their mansion, because of course they live in a mansion, about an hour later. It’s in a woodsy and remote area of upstate New York with no neighbors for a good two miles, and upon driving through the gates and down the long driveway your eyes go wide, everything is just so big. The fountain in the front yard stands almost as tall as the three-story house, several expensive-looking cars are parked off to the left near what you assume is the garage, and you’re pretty sure you can spot a greenhouse in the backyard.

As soon as the car is stopped two men appear on either side of it, opening the doors for Steve and Bucky and letting them step out. A woman - the same redhead from earlier - comes up to your door and opens it, reaching out her hand and guiding you out.

“I’m Natasha,” She says with a welcoming smile on her face. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, jumping slightly when an arm wraps around your waist.

“It’s nothing, beautiful.” When you look up at Bucky, you see him giving Natasha a look that you can tell is a silent demand to stop talking. Then, he turns to you, pulling you close to his side. “Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

Despite a spark of uneasiness popping up, you walk with him, Steve appearing by your other side and taking your hand in his and once again threading your fingers together. He gives you a warm smile, squeezing your hand. “We’ll give you a tour later, for now, we just want you to relax.”

As you walk through the entrance, your eyes open even wider than before. Not only is the foyer huge, but the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling illuminates the area beautifully and your heels make clicking noises on the pristine tile floor. You let your eyes wander as you walk up the grand staircase, admiring the artwork on the walls while you’re led through a large living area and down a hallway to a door.

And when they open it, dear lord you just want to scream. It’s bigger than the one-bedroom apartment that you shared with John. There’s a huge canopy bed off to the left, a massive TV mounted on the opposite wall, and a reading nook against the floor-to-ceiling window with a long bookshelf on the wall next to it - ending a few feet from the bed. There’s plants hanging from the ceiling and potted ones in each corner of the room, and an open door off to the right gives you a peak at what must be the bathroom but resembles more of a spa.

It’s absolutely gorgeous and it makes you feel at home.

“How do you like it?” Steve asks, both men tugging and leading you further into the room when they notice you’ve frozen while taking everything in.

“I love it,” You say quickly, smiling at them as you walk towards the bed so you can run your fingers along the silk bed sheets. “It’s beautiful.”

“Good.” Bucky appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder. “You deserve beautiful things.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, warmth filling your body. These men are already showing you more affection than John had during your entire relationship, and it simultaneously hurts your heart that you stayed with an ungrateful and uncaring man for so long while also making you happy that you’ve fallen into the laps of men with high standards of how to treat a woman.

“We’ll let you rest up, now.” Steve comes up to you and works his arm between your back and Bucky’s body so he can hold your waist. He leans down and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, bringing up his other hand to cradle your head so he can really breathe in your scent.

“Wait.”

Immediately Bucky and Steve pull away, and when you turn around and look up at them you can see the concern written on their face.

“This is my room?”

Bucky nods, his eyebrows furrowed. “Yes. Is it okay? We can redecorate if you want, just tell us what you like and we’ll do it.”

You shake your head, placing one hand on Bucky’s chest and the other on Steve’s.

“N-no. No, I love it. I just thought…” You trail off, biting your lip. You’re not too sure how to phrase your thoughts, but you try your hardest when the men continue to stare at you. “I guess I just thought you would want me to sleep in your room.”

Bucky sighs and pulls you close, placing one hand on the back of your head while Steve saddles up beside him to grasp your hip.

“While we would absolutely love having you in our bed,” Bucky stops to swipe his tongue along his bottom lip and you have to fight the urge to lean up on your toes to bite it. “We’re not going to force you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“We know this is a big adjustment,” Steve says, smiling down at you when you look at him. “So we don’t want to make you do something that would make you uncomfortable.”

The men go silent, as do you, allowing you to process their words. They’re right, of course. This is all so new for you, and even though you’re more than ready - you’ve been deprived of physical contact and a good orgasm for a while - you know it wouldn’t be a good decision to jump into a relationship like this so soon after leaving your ex.

Fuck good decisions.

“What if…” You trail off, biting your lip nervously. Deciding to be bold, you trail the hand on Bucky’s chest up until you can cup his cheek, smiling when he turns his head and kisses your palm.

“What if I do want to?” You glance over at Steve, batting your eyelashes and fighting the shiver that wants to run through your body when he groans, low and utterly sexy.

“And what exactly is it that you want?” Bucky asks, his voice dropping while moving his free hand to your back, slowly inching down until he can rest it on your ass, but not squeezing.

“I -“ Suddenly a whine is forced out of your mouth when Steve moves your hair and leans down so he can kiss and nibble at your neck. “Steve!”

Then, Bucky dips down while pulling your head closer to his so he can press a searing kiss on your lips, swallowing your moan as he squeezes and kneads your ass.

“Tell us what you want, kitten,” Steve murmurs, biting and sucking a dark bruise on your neck and laughing when you pull away from Bucky’s lips with a huff.

“I - fuck.” Your whining is bordering on desperation. The lack of physical and sexual contact for the last few months has finally caught up to you, and you’re about to cry with how needy you feel. “I want you to fuck me.”

Both men curse, Steve nodding but not removing his mouth from the column of your throat. And maybe if your head wasn’t already fogged over with desire you’d have heard Bucky’s muttered “finally.” As it is though, you don’t pay attention to anything other than their hands caressing and groping your body, the men working in tandem to strip you of your dress and lay you flat on your back in the middle of the bed.

Both men stand at the end of the bed, staring at you with dark lust in their eyes as Bucky palms his crotch. They stare for so long that you start to get self-conscious, wondering what they’re thinking. It was always quick with John, he never really focused on your pleasure but rather worried about getting himself off and asking with an infuriatingly smug grin if it was good. It never was, but you never told him that, you hate confrontation. So it’s a little unnerving to have sex be drawn out, to be the center of attention - and the attention coming from the two hottest men on the planet makes you squirm uncomfortably. You’re about to cover yourself with your arms when Bucky kneels on the bed and grabs one of your wrists, Steve appearing next to you so he can grab your other one.

“Don’t,” Bucky says hoarsely, a determined look in his eyes. “Don’t hide from us, kitten.”

An involuntary moan forces its way up your throat and out of your mouth, and you find yourself agreeing with a quick nod. “I-I’m sorry,” You whine, arching into Steve’s hand that has now found a home on your covered breast.

“Don’t be sorry, princess,” Steve murmurs trailing his hand from your breast to your neck, toying with the necklace John had given you on your sixth-month anniversary. You haven’t taken it off since, it felt like a mark of ownership. And at first, it felt good, you loved knowing you were John’s girl. However, as the relationship progressed and worsened with every day, it felt more like a chain, weighing you down and forcing you to stay tethered to him. Yes, it had occurred to you to take it off a few times, but you weren’t ready for it to end. Even though it was an extremely toxic relationship, you had nowhere to go.

“Did he give you this?” Steve asks, disdain clear in his voice. And when you nod, he hovers over you, smirking as he grips the necklace and pulls, the chain snapping in two as he flings it across the room. Ignoring your shocked gasp, Steve and Bucky lean back and get off the bed, resuming their earlier position near the end of it.

“She’s perfect, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs after a long moment of silence. Putting a hand on the back of his partner’s neck, he yanks him forward, pulling him into a downright filthy kiss that makes your legs immediately squeeze shut to relieve the growing ache in your core.

At your loud and needy whine, they pull away, both men working in sync to get undressed and hurry to lay on either side of you. Both of them have kept their boxers on, but the very large bulge straining against the fabric does absolutely nothing to hide their arousal.

“Are you sure you want this?” Bucky asks, and even though you can hear the desperation in his voice, you know deep in your bones that they would stop if you said no. And that just further cements your decision, you need them, you need to feel them and kiss them and have them worship you in ways John could never.

“I’m sure, Bucky.”

“Call me ‘Daddy’, princess,” He says, reaching up a hand and placing it on your throat. He doesn’t choke you, but the pressure lets you know that he wants to.

“I’m sure, Daddy.”

Bucky groans as though he’s been punched in the gut, and his hips jerk forward, rubbing his erection into your thigh. He dives down and captures your lips in a heated kiss, momentarily distracting you from everything around you. That is until you feel a hand travel down your stomach, ignoring your underwear and slipping inside to quickly cup your wet and aching pussy.

Pulling away, you let out another gasp, your gaze immediately shooting to your left to see Steve’s very smug smirk.

“Feel good?” He asks as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly moving his middle finger up and down your slit until he finally pushes through, slipping the thick digit into your quivering hole all the way to the third knuckle.

“Oh God, yes! Yes, Steve.” He pulls his finger out momentarily, only to shove in two fingers - once again pushing in all the way.

“Sir,” Steve growls, leaning down to nibble at your ear. His gravely chuckle when you mumble, “Yes, sir,” sends tingles down your spine, and you’re near tears with how good but not enough his fingers feel.

“I-I need…” You trail off, whining pathetically when Steve removes his fingers again. You whine even louder when Steve pulls his hand out of your panties altogether, letting you see his fingers covered in your juices glinting in the moonlight. The sight doesn’t last long, because Bucky immediately dips down to suck on them, both men groaning in pleasure. The brunette doesn’t swallow though, he actually lets the fingers slip free from his mouth so he can capture his partner’s lips, letting Steve taste you too.

“Fuck,” You whimper, hands automatically tugging at both of their boxers in an attempt to move things along. “Please just fuck me already.”

They separate from each other, grinning wolfishly at each other for a moment before glancing down at your cute pout and pleading eyes.

“What’s the rush?” Steve asks, dipping down to give you a brief kiss. “We’ve got all night.”

Thankfully, though, they get with the program, maneuvering your body to their liking until your bra and panties are also discarded. And you’re about to undo the strap on your heels before Bucky grabs your ankle, shaking his head in disapproval.

“You’re keeping these on.” His command sends shivers down your spine, and you can’t even speak anymore with how turned on you are. Despite this, you somehow manage to whisper, “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s good,” Steve says, moving to kneel on the bed next to your head while he palms his bulge with one hand and squeezes your cheeks between his fingers with the other. “You’re going to be a good girl for us, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir!” You say enthusiastically, nodding your head as best as you can. And due to Steve holding your head in place, you can’t see what Bucky is doing, but you feel your legs being pushed wide open as the bed dips between them.

“Good,” Steve mutters mostly to himself, giving you an unnervingly soft smile for the situation. “Now, Bucky’s been dying to taste you since he first laid eyes on you, so you’re going to let him worship your pussy while I fuck your mouth. Okay?”

If you weren’t already drunk with pleasure, this would’ve been the thing to send you under. His commanding tone and the heat of Bucky’s mouth so close to your dripping core already have you on edge, ready to snap at the slightest touch. And when you nod, Steve turns to his partner, nodding once and smirking when he dives in, parting your pussy lips and licking a long stripe from your hole to your throbbing clit, where he then sucks it into his mouth.

The borderline scream you emit is so loud you’d be surprised if anyone on this floor didn’t hear it, but it’s quickly muffled by Steve shoving his boxers down and easing his cock into your gaping mouth. Now, you’ve never really liked giving head - well, with John anyway. He was always too rough, and the fact that he never returned the favor made it seem more like a chore than anything.

But you could definitely get used to this. Steve’s girth stretches your lips wider than ever before, and even through the haze of pleasure, you can tell that he’s holding back, letting you get used to the stretch. It doesn’t take long, and a particularly rough nip to your clit has you sucking Steve’s cock further into your mouth, and the man curses above you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Steve sighs, rocking his hips forward ever so slightly. When he finds little resistance, he pulls back and pushes in a little further, groaning deep in his chest when you bring up a hand to tug at his balls.

“Taste so fuckin’ good too, princess,” Bucky mumbles against your pussy, pulling away only briefly so he can easily slide two metal fingers in as deep as they could possibly go. It’s clear that his goal is to make you cum, and you’re not that far off. To be frank, your arousal has been building from the moment you met them, and they are not disappointing.

It only takes a few more thrusts of Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s hand coming down to wrap around your throat for you to cum - your cunt spasming and hips thrusting up into Bucky’s face as you chase your high. Soon enough, both men retreat from your body, giving you a short reprieve while they rid themselves of their underwear. Steve moves you so he can lay back against the headboard, adjusting your position so you can rest in between his legs with your back against his chest while Bucky hovers over you.

“Now, princess,” He murmurs, just loud enough for both of you to hear him, and taps your arm. “You’re going to hold onto Stevie while I ruin this pussy. Then, he’s goin’ to fuck my cum back into you.”

“Oh God yes, yes please, Daddy!” If your mind wasn’t deep in the pits of desire you’d probably be embarrassed by how needy you are, maybe even ashamed. Right now, though, you can’t imagine feeling anything but pure pleasure and happiness.

It all happens so fast, Steve grabbing the backs of your thighs so he can spread them wide and Bucky quickly following by pushing his cock - easily the longest you’ve ever taken - halfway into your cunt. He stops there for a moment, letting you get used to the sudden stretch before surprising you by pulling out until his tip is only poking in.

You’re frustrated, extremely so, and you’re pretty sure you’ll cry if he doesn’t fill you back up. And you’re about to start whining when the man above you thrusts forward, burying his cock so deep in your pussy that you swear you could feel him in your throat. Deep and guttural groans fill the air, a metal hand grasping your thigh and keeping it spread so Steve can wrap his arm around your midsection and hold you close while the pace quickly picks up.

And you’re in heaven, this must be heaven. Because in no other plane of existence would the two most handsome men in the world be touching and gripping you like you’re a priceless gem they’re afraid to lose. From behind you, Steve groans every time Bucky pushes into you, forcing you to shift in Steve’s lap and subconsciously grind into his throbbing erection.

“Fuck, kitten,” Bucky mutters, bracing one hand on the headboard and dropping your leg so he can grab your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look into his eyes - dark with a desire you’ve never known. But there’s something else there, something primal that no ordinary man could have, a sense of possessiveness and ownership that seeps out of his pores.

You can’t do anything except moan, your mouth parting wider to let out a scream when Bucky shifts slightly, thrusting and hitting that special spongey spot deep within you dead on.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she Stevie?”

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Steve says softly, running the hand he has on your stomach down to your pussy to rub at your hole, feeling where you and his partner are connected. “Always knew she would be.”

Thankfully for them, those words fly over your head. You’re already too fucked-out to think properly, do you even know what your name is?

When Steve swiftly moves his fingers to your clit, your answer is a confident no. All you can seem to focus on are these two men and the immense pleasure they’re giving you. And it takes only a few more thrusts for you to feel that coil in your tummy wind tighter and tighter.

“Is she gonna cum?” Steve asks cockily, noticing the way Bucky’s hips stutter and his brow furrows. Reaching up, Steve grabs the back of his partner’s neck and pulls him in for a rough and messy kiss - mainly tongue and teeth. When they pull away, Bucky is nearly breathless, and you can hear the cockiness in his voice when Steve tells him, “Make her. Come on, baby. Fucking fill her up so I can.”

Those words - coupled with the fingers rubbing your clit, the pressure on your neck, and the cock that’s currently rearranging your guts - make you cum harder than you’ve ever. It doesn’t even really feel like an orgasm, it’s better than that. Something squirts out of your pussy with every forward thrust, and if it weren’t for being sandwiched between the two buffest men to ever exist then you’d be positive you were floating off into the clouds.

Bucky follows soon after, a loud groan of your name filling the room before his hips are flush with yours. Vaguely, you can feel his seed filling your womb, coating your insides, and it takes a full minute for Bucky’s breathing to even out. When he finally regains his composure, he leans back, holding your hips steady and chuckling at the glazed look in your eyes.

“Ready for me to pull out, kitten?” The answer he gets is a mumbled and pitiful “no”, which he laughs at, affectionately patting your hip. “Sorry, princess, we have to let Stevie have his turn.”

With that, he nods to Steve, who reaches over to the nightstand and procures a phone, handing it to Bucky. Bucky places his metal hand on the inside of your right thigh, holding it in place while he goes to the camera app on his phone. 

“Okay, princess, gonna pull out now.” With his phone aimed at your hips, he slowly pulls out, hissing quietly but not stopping until his cock finally slips free. He moans softly, and when you finally manage to lift your head enough to see what he’s doing you see the phone leaning closer, capturing the no doubt obscene view of his cum dripping out of your hole. Bucky takes a few pictures and then tosses the phone back to Steve, who places it back on the nightstand.

The men shift, maneuvering your limp body until you’re laying flat on your back with Steve kneeling on the bed between your legs while Bucky stands off to the side, gripping his still-hard cock.

“Alright, beautiful,” Steve says, adjusting a pillow underneath your hips. “You ready for me?”

It takes a second to process his words, but when you do you nod your head as fast as you can, nearly giving you whiplash. You don’t care though, all you care about is the delicious stretch in your core as Steve pushes in slowly.

“Fuck, kitten,” Steve growls, stopping when his crotch is flush against yours with his pubic bone pressing against your clit. He grinds his hips against yours, the stimulation to your clit making you whine loudly.

Steve is drastically different from Bucky, he fucks you slow and sweet, though no less forceful, reaching deep in your pussy until you can barely gasp for air. When your head lolls to the side, you see Bucky stroking his cock in time with Steve’s thrusts, and, without thinking, you reach for him, beckoning him forward until he’s close enough that you can wrap your hand around it. Both men moan, and Bucky brings up his flesh hand and cups one of your breasts, kneading the flesh and rubbing over your nipple, pinching and twisting just right so it’s bordering on a delicious kind of pain.

Then, a loud smack rings through the air, Steve’s hips jerking forward almost immediately after.

“Pick it up, babe,” Bucky says with a smirk, chuckling at Steve’s agitated look, but he does so nonetheless.

Steve starts fucking you with intent, slamming into you at a borderline inhuman speed - and you don’t know how it’s possible but the orgasm building in your core seems to be more intense than the last. And after a few more thrusts, you’re plunged into the dark abyss of pleasure - mind going blank as a loud sob rips through your throat.

It’s an indeterminate amount of time later when you regain consciousness, and this time you don’t recognize the room you’re in. It takes a few moments for you to shake the fogginess out of your mind enough to notice that you’re alone in the large bed, and when you raise your head to look around the room you can’t see Bucky or Steve. But the pictures of the two of them and friends scattered throughout the space show you that this is their room.

“Bucky?” You call softly, your eyebrows furrowing when you hear no reply. Stretching your arms above your head, you force yourself out of bed - noticing that you’re now covered with a large shirt that smells a lot like Steve’s cologne. You go into the bathroom to find it empty, then wander to the large walk-in closet - again, empty.

Where are they?

“Steve?” You say a little louder, tentatively opening the bedroom door and peeking out, finding the hallway empty and quiet. There’s a spark of uneasiness that ignites in your stomach, though you try to stomp it out by reasoning with yourself - they’re busy men, after all.

When you look to your right, you see a set of double doors at the end of the long hallway, and something in you tells you to check there. As you walk down to the doors, more uneasiness pops up, it just feels a little too quiet. But the closer you get you can start to hear whispers, and they become more prominent when you stop right outside the doors. Bits and pieces of conversation flow through the wood.

“I want him gone within the hour.”

“Off the bridge.”

“They won’t find him.”

But one line hits you differently.

“Don’t let her find out.”

Your curiosity is extremely peaked, and it takes all of your willpower to bring your hand up to knock. You feel a little like you’re intruding, but you’re too confused to not impose.

The door opens a few moments later, though it’s only cracked halfway, and Steve appears in the doorframe.

“Hello, beautiful,” He says sweetly, reaching out a hand to hold your hip. “Why don’t you go back do bed, hm? I’ll be right there.”

“But, Buck-”

“Is just dealing with a few things. We had to deal with a business related issue, but he’ll join us when he’s done.” Steve is calm, and the soft look in his eyes is enough to quell any anxiety you were feeling. You’re not sure how he’s able to do it, but he’s mesmerizing, already able to manipulate you to his liking.

You’re sure it’s supposed to be frightening, but you can’t find it in you to care. Unlike John, you know with an enormous amount of certainty that they would never harm you, they’ll protect you.

What you don’t know is just how far they’ll go to protect you - to save you from deadbeat men who are too selfish to not recognize a treasure when he has one. And men that are too stupid to know when he’s being lied to. You don’t need to know that, though.

So, with a smile and a kiss, he sends you on your way, only retreating back into the room when you go in theirs.

“That was close,” Bucky says as he hangs up the phone, putting it back in his pocket.

“It’s okay, she doesn’t know.” Steve turns to his partner, both of them wearing matching smirks. “And she never will.”

taglist (+ people who seemed interested): @yamitem @buckysprettybaby @kokeshi-mynx @cevansbaby-dove @biteofcherry

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where, after a difficult week, Matt takes out all his stress on Y/N, causing great damage to their relationship.

WARNING: Fighting, yelling, cursing, dark thoughts. ANGST!

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons and @ivoncheetooo1239

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 2

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"I don't know where you want to get with that, Matt." Y/N sighed, closing her eyes tightly for a few minutes before opening them again, keeping them fixed on the road in front of the car. She had her head resting on her right hand, and her elbow braced next to the passenger door window.

Matt, as usual, had gone to pick up Y/N from work after her shift, but he was surprised to have to wait for an hour in the car for his girlfriend to finally be released, as her boss had demanded that she had to work overtime.

Despite being wrong, Matt felt furious.

His week was more than hectic with the start of sales of the 6 million clothing collection, as he and his brothers had to spend hours autographing photos of themselves that would go with each order. In addition to - by Nick and Chris's choice -, the three of them were the ones who hand-packed the first ones, which resulted in Matt having to stay awake until late hours, and waking up early everyday to fulfill his other tasks.

With all that, having to sit in his car for an hour, with only his phone and in such an uncomfortable seat seemed to increase his irritation, and he couldn't help but start an argument with his girlfriend, feeling like a pressure cooker about to explode.

"I'm just saying that you don't stop at home anymore. You just work all day, as if it was your number one priority in life. And now you've started this nonsense of working overtime!" Matt accused, gesturing exaggeratedly with his right hand while keeping his left one on the steering wheel.

"It's not like I asked to work overtime, Matt! You and your brothers have worked in a grocery store once, you know how it works-"

"Don't you dare bring up Chris and Nick's name. They have nothing to do with your lack of responsibility within a relationship." The boy took his eyes off the road momentarily, giving her a cold look that sent shivers running up her spine.

"Matt, you're being ridiculous! I understand your week has been tiring-" Matt cut the girl off again, shaking his head nervously.

"No, you don't know nothing, Y/N!" His tone was arrogant, a tone that the girl didn't remember ever hearing from him. "I'm exhausted because of my own work, and I still have to come and pick you up every day! And now you make me stay stuck in this car for an hour, waiting for Miss Perfect here to decide to leave." His voice gradually increased in volume.

Y/N could already feel the sensations of the ugly crying that was about to come, taking a deep breath and counting to 10 in her head.

"Then don't pick me up anymore, Matt! You were willing to come every day after my work just until some days ago, but if it's so hard for you now, don't come anymore." Y/N replied, her tone lower than her boyfriend's but still carrying much stress.

"How can you be so ungrateful?" Matt shouted, slamming his hands against the steering wheel violently.

"Matt, look, I'm sorry- Hey, keep your eyes on the road!" Y/N ignored the pang she felt in her heart at the brunette's words, fear rising through her veins as she saw the car move further away from the main road, as a result of his lack of attention.

Her eyes were wide as she raised her hands, ready to grab the steering wheel if necessary.

"You know what? I'm done." Matt spoke through gritted teeth, turning the car sharply to the right until it stopped on the side of the road.

"What are you doing? Matt?" Y/N asked, her breath coming out shakily as her eyes traveled down the dark, deserted street, to her boyfriend's face, which seemed to be covered in a gray cloud of hate.

"I'm done with this. If you don't want to take responsibility for your own mistakes and don't understand the seriousness of this relationship like I do, then maybe it's not worth the effort." He unlocked the doors, crossing his arms and keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his nostrils flaring as a result of his hard breathing.

"M-Matt, don't do that." The girl tried, swallowing hard.

She reached out her hand towards him with the intention of gently touching his arm, but Matt pulling away roughly, as if she were a plague, made her stop abruptly for a few seconds, her hand slowly lowering.

“I need to think, Y/N.” He shook his head, resting his elbows on the steering wheel and laying his head in his hands, closing his eyes tightly. "Get out." He demanded sharply.

Y/N's eyes widened, her heart stopping momentarily.

"W-what? Are you crazy? Look at the time, Matt. How am I going to-"

"Get out." Matt interrupted her, not once looking up. His tone was flat and cold.

Y/N looked at him for a few more seconds, as if waiting for him to apologize and say it was all a sick joke. But that never happened.

She quickly pulled the car handle, grabbing her purse and getting out of the passenger seat. The cold night air hit her body with force as if needles were piercing her skin, eliciting a strong shiver from her members.

Her hand pushed the door hard, closing it, the sound echoing like a dull thud. Her eyes watched the car restart not even a second later, screeching away.

Y/N remained still for a few seconds - or minutes -, watching Matt's car disappear into the distance, her hope of him turning around slowly disappearing.

"Come back." Her voice sounded so broken, just like her insides. "P-please."

She spun around, taking note of the street completely deserted of cars or humans, the only source of life being the streetlights.

The girl quickly hooked her purse onto her right shoulder, crossing her arms tightly around her torso and beginning the steps of the long walk she would have to take to get home - if she even could call that place her home anymore. The possibility of Matt kicking her out after the events made her legs tremble.

Her throat started to hurt from the crying that she was still holding back. The emotions rising in her chest were like bile in her throat; It burned and hurt like never before. Her heart felt like it was being crushed by a human hand, and it didn't take long for loud sobs to escape her lips, her eyes stinging from the hot tears in contact with the freezing wind.

It was minutes of walking without stopping, her feet ached from the tension in her body, a result of the intense cold and the several times she turned back, checking if she wasn't being followed.

The familiar street soon took over her blurred vision, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. Thick tears were still rolling from her eyes, but her sobs had stopped, being replaced by small sniffles.

Y/N shuffled down the sidewalk, passing the houses neighboring hers, before finally stopping in front of her front door. Her hands, practically frozen by the cold, opened her purse in a quick movement, rummaging through the smaller pockets, looking for the key.

She closed her eyes tightly when she couldn't find it, vaguely remembering just throwing it in the glove compartment of Matt's car that morning since she was in such a rush and still eating her breakfast.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she fished out her phone, cursing under her breath when she noticed that the battery was almost all gone. Just her lucky day.

She quickly unlocked the screen, going into her contact list and clicking on Chris's one. The boy answered on the second ring, surprising Y/N.

"Y/N? Thank God, where are you guys?" Chris's voice sounded relieved. Y/N frowned, her mind creating thousands of horrible scenarios as to why Matt hadn't gotten home yet.

The path she took, which took her almost 30 minutes of walking - or more, since she was walking slowly due to the cold - would not even take 15 minutes by car.

"C-Chris, open the door for me. Please." Her voice was broken, her teeth chattering as her body felt the temperature drop even more now that she stood still.

"Are you out there? Alone?" He asked exasperatedly. The sound of his bed shuffling sounded from behind, probably the result of him getting up.

"Yeah... Just hurry, please." Y/N repeated, her tone completely vulnerable.

The line went dead at the same instant. Her right hand - which was holding the device - moved away from her ear quickly, her eyes only finding the negative battery icon.

She threw her phone into her purse again, her eyes prickling with new tears that wanted to flow. Her mind created terrible thoughts about herself and her day, and all she wanted most was to sleep and perhaps never wake up again.

The sound of keys sounded on the other side of the door seconds before it was abruptly opened. Chris's figure appeared, his wide eyes carrying immense concern as they roamed Y/N's body, seeming to search for any injuries.

"Oh my God, you're freezing." He confirmed when he noticed her shaking, gently pulling her inside, before closing the door again. He rubbed his hands over Y/N's arms, which, even though they were covered by the fluffy jacket, were still extremely cold.

The warm air from the heater inside the house welcomed the girl's body gracefully, surrounding her like a thin blanket. She sighed, closing her eyes momentarily.

"Where the hell is Matt? I thought he was going to pick you up." Chris asked exasperatedly, helping her take her purse off her shoulder, hanging it on the rack next to the door.

Y/N felt her eyes fill with tears again at the mention of her boyfriend's name. An ugly sound of choked sobs escaping her throat caught Chris's attention, who stopped his movements and turned his eyes to her.

"Oh no, what did he do?" His tone was gentle as he approached, pulling her into a tight hug as he watched her shake her head in denial repeatedly, her lips trembling. "Let's go to my room, you need a hot shower and fresh clothes."

Chris slowly stepped away, keeping one of his hands on Y/N's shoulders, guiding her through the kitchen and down the stairs towards his own room.

The door was already open - being left like that when the boy rushed after receiving her call -, the two of them just passing through it before Chris closed it, keeping the hot air trapped between the four walls.

"Go take a shower, I'll get you some new clothes from your closet, okay? There's a clean towel in the cabinet under the sink." The boy indicated, watching his sister-in-law nod weakly, a low "thank you" escaping her lips before she could enter the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

It didn't take long for Y/N to step out again, already dressed in the Fresh Love sweatshirt set that Chris placed on the sink - just by putting his arm between the door and the frame.

Even though she wanted to melt like hot water and go down the drain just like her tears that fell imperceptibly, her feet hurt too much to support her weight for even another minute, begging for a rest.

Chris was sitting on the right side of the bed, his back against the headboard and his legs above the duvet, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, seeming to be waiting for her.

The sound of the bathroom door closing attracted his attention, and he quickly locked his cell, putting it on the bedside table before tapping the empty space next to him, silently calling Y/N to sit there.

The girl walked to the indicated side, lifting the duvet and sitting on the mattress, staying in the same position as Chris, but with her legs covered.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" He asked calmly, watching her closely, trying to read her expressions, but seeing only an ocean of pain in every line of her face and eyes.

"Matt left me in the middle of the road." She swallowed hard, shaking her head while closing her eyes tightly. "We had a fight. My boss demanded from me to work overtime and I forgot to tell Matt, so he ended up waiting for me for an hour in his car. He was tired from the day and the week, and I think the stress built up on both our sides, and he just started yelling at me." Y/N shrugged, sniffing momentarily, trying to hold back her tears.

"Wait, he left you in the middle of the road, alone and in the cold? To come home walking?" Chris's eyes widened, a look of disbelief occupying his blue orbs as he tried to process the information.

"Yeah." The girl's voice sounded low and vulnerable, her head lowering and her eyes focusing on her hands above the duvet, feeling embarrassed by her boyfriend's actions. "I tried to intervene at some point, but he was so mad." She took a deep breath, biting her bottom lip hard, the pain almost numb next to the one she felt in her heart. "I don't know what I did wrong, Chris." Her voice broke, a dry sob escaping her throat.

"I'm so sorry for my brother's actions, Y/N." Chris sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I promise you did absolutely nothing wrong. Don't let those thoughts get the best of you."

"I just... Maybe I'm not really giving our relationship enough credit. Or maybe I'm not enough to fit into Matt's life patterns and busy days." She douted, playing with her fingers as a nervous act.

"Why don't you try to get some sleep? I imagine how tired you are and it's late. We can talk about this tomorrow, but try to clean your mind for now, okay?" He suggested.

Chris helped her lay down after receiving a nod of agreement, adjusting the duvet over her body. The girl moved her head, laying it on his left thigh, seeking comfort. He quickly put his hand on her hair, stroking the area calmly, lulling her into sleep.

After making sure she was already dreaming, the boy moved her slowly - so as not to wake her -, laying her completely on the mattress before getting up. He sat down in his gaming chair, crossing his legs on the seat.

Chris closed his eyes tightly, massaging his temples, trying to reduce the tension there. His eyes remained on Y/N's figure, caring for her sleep like a worried older brother, longing to have the power to erase the entire event from the girl's memory.

Matt would hear from him when he arrived.

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[helluvapoison]

Make Me Weak

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you

• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more

• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead

• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“But I didn’t do anything?”

“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”

Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head

“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”

Your light laugh makes her smile again

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world

• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray

• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body

• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”

A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you

“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”

“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?

• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up

• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer

• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”

Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”

“Exactly why I need you there.”

“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”

A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.

“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.

He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another

[harryspet]

homestead | r.cameron [p.2]

[warnings]dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, implied jj x reader, kidnapping, NONCON, unprotected sex, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

word count: 3.4k

In which you confront Rafe's unsettling mix of tenderness and manipulation.

part one

Your search of the room for anything useful as a weapon was not fruitful. Most drawers were empty except for clothes. You found more pairs of pajamas and nightgowns, but searching the closet only yielded a few hung sundresses. The bathroom was simple, with a clawfoot tub and another window looking out onto green pastures. On the bathroom counter, you found a wicker basket full of what you assumed were newly bought essentials. Several containers of prenatal vitamins, body washes and creams for sensitive skin, panty liners, Epsom salts, and essential oils. 

Rafe Cameron thought of all of this?

The window offered a view of the other side of the house and a large white barn and Rafe’s blue pickup truck caught your eye. You stepped into the tub to get a closer look out the window. Maybe you could see a road, a way out of here, or even a street sign that might tell you where you were. Just like the bedroom windows, they didn’t budge either. 

The bedroom door swings open once more, and you sink into the empty tub, your head cradled in your hands as you desperately try to force your mind to function. For the sake of your baby, you need to think clearly. The overwhelming situation presses down on you, making it even harder to process what’s happening. You can sense his presence in the doorway, but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“I made scrambled eggs,” He said. 

“They make me sick,” You said stoically, “Haven’t eaten them in months.”

“Good to know,” His tall, broad figure stood over you before you heard him kneel down beside the tub, “I also brought yogurt and fresh fruit. How does that sound?”

“All the windows are locked.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said as if it were normal, “I know you’re hungry. You need your strength. I don’t have to remind you why.”

You looked up to see his hand offering a white bowl filled with yogurt, fresh blueberries, and strawberries. He was right—you needed your strength. If not for the baby, then to gather the energy to escape. Perhaps you could think more clearly on a full stomach. You gazed at the food for a full minute, trying to rationalize why you should accept it, wrestling with the cognitive dissonance that churned within you.

You took it from his hands without a thank you and stirred your spoon about twenty times before finally bringing it to your mouth. It tasted heavenly, which you hated. “There’s the cutest farmer’s market a couple of miles from here. The blueberries are incredible but you gotta get there early on Sunday before they’re sold out.”

You met his eyes for a brief moment and realized they were sparkling with joy. You didn’t have to respond to him, he’d happily talk to himself as long as he felt like he was making some progress with you. You couldn’t let me feel that way for long, “You’ve outdone yourself, Rafe, really.”

“Just want you to be comfortable,” He shrugged, and you rolled your eyes, “It’s a lot right now, I know that.”

“A lot,” you scoffed, bitterness laced throughout your tone. “This is insane.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he suppressed it, whatever it was, “You’re safe here. Your baby’s safe here. There’s plenty of room, plenty of food, and you’d never have to work a real jon. You haven’t even seen everything yet, but it’s beautiful. It’s a great place to raise a kid.”

“Rafe, you took the choice away from me.”

He shook his head, “So what? I saved you from suffering even further. Not even a little part of you regrets choosing JJ?”

You went quiet, feeling your temper rising. Instead of responding, you brought another spoonful to your mouth. He didn’t understand why this was so completely wrong, and presenting him with common sense didn’t seem to be working. 

“I love you, Y/N,” He spoke as if to get your attention, but you didn’t meet his eyes this time, “Don’t start thinking anyone’s coming to save you, Y/N. And you won’t overpower me or make it far running. Not in your condition. You know that.”

You knew that, didn’t you? Clearly, JJ didn’t care enough about you to do better. And Pope had a bright future ahead of him. Maybe he’d realize he was better off without you. What were you to do now? Give in when you’ve just realized that Rafe is a monster?

“Finish your food, I’ll be back later,” When you looked again he had the plate in hand and was walking away, not without loudly shutting the door. 

Your head tilted back against the cold porcelain. This would turn out to be a game of endurance. You had to outlast him and perhaps outthink him. He’d been planning to bring you here for weeks, but he couldn’t have planned for everything. 

You finished your food and then spent the next few hours exploring the room in more detail, ensuring you hadn’t missed any detail. After all that time, the only new discovery that you make is under the bed. Still, in its packaging, you find a pregnancy pillow. You wouldn’t admit that you felt a small comfort at the sight of it. Sleeping had started to feel completely uncomfortable over the past few weeks, and you woke up painfully sore each morning.

It felt wrong when you knew it shouldn’t. In the meantime, you’d also take some of the prenatal vitamins. You could only afford one bottle of the generic brand, but Rafe provided several different types. Taking multiple kinds meant you weren’t missing any nutrients your baby might need. In just a matter of hours, you were starting to realize all that you didn’t have. 

You unzipped the pillow from its packaging, letting yourself feel the soft material against your chest. Although the knock at the door wasn’t loud, it startled you. Rafe appeared now in work boots, jeans, and a flannel. He held the doorknob in his hand and looked you over as if he hadn’t just seen you or picked out the exact outfit he wanted to see you in. You noticed he was even taller in those boots.

“What do you think?” He gestured to the pillow.

“Looks expensive,” You said simply.

“It had the best reviews,” he added, “You’ll have to let me know how you like it tomorrow morning.”

You stared back at him, shifting on your feet. "Can I show you something?" he asked, the door still wide open. A chance to leave. Of course, you’d take it. Faking compliance, you carefully stepped towards him. As you crossed the threshold of your room, you allowed him to place a hand on the small of your back. "The room right next door," he said.

Your eyes were anywhere but that door. You were scoping out the entire hallway. There were two more doors across the hallway, perhaps one of them was Rafe’s, and you spotted the staircase. The walls were painted a muted beige and adorned with several rustic paintings. The scent of mahogany lingered in the air, likely one of Rafe’s attempts to make this place feel like a home rather than a prison. You couldn’t turn your head far as Rafe was urging you forward. 

“I’ve been working on something,” When Rafe opened the door, you stepped inside a brand new nursery room, “Rose helped with the decorations, but  I can change anything that you don’t like.”

The wallpaper was decorated with blue flowers and little woodland creatures. A wooden crib sat in the corner, a white canopy draping right next to a rocking chair. The window on the far side of the room also looked out onto green pastures. Shelves on the walls were already adorned with toys and baby books. It was surreal. Beautiful and horrifying. You clutched your chest as you slowly walked around the room. 

“Rafe,” was all you could manage to say.

“I didn’t get a lot of clothes yet. I knew you’d want to pick those out,” His arms raised up, scratching his head as if he was nervous to see your reaction. Over the crib, you noticed the space-themed mobile you had picked out at the store gently hanging down. "It’s a good start, right?" he added, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“It’s literally perfect,” You couldn’t lie at that moment, “Rafe, d-do you really think I would be that horrible of a mom on my own?”

“No,” He rushed out, his face falling, “What? No, I don’t think that.”

“I could never give my baby anything like this.”

He came closer, but you stepped back, “That’s not what I’ve been trying to say with all of this. I think you’d be a great mom. You’re gonna be a great mom.”

You needed to hear those words. Maybe Rafe was the wrong source but you needed that confirmation. In a moment of weakness, you let him closer. He wiped your tears as they began to fall, “It’s not about what you have, but I’m telling you that I won’t let you do it on your own,” He wrapped his arm around your waist and tear-eyed, and you let your head rest on his chest, “I’ll take care of every little worry. All you have to do is agree to be mine.”

“If you really care about me,” you said softly, letting him run his hands over your hair. “You’ll let me make my own choices.”

“Y/N–”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done. I really do,” You lied, “And I want this. I promise. I know JJ is no good for me or the baby. Could you just give me a little bit more time?”

“You’ll go back to him,” Rafe said. His grip on your waist tightened, and you pulled your head away from his chest, gazing up at him. 

“It’s not your baby. You know that, right?” It was the wrong thing to say. His nostrils flared, and your heartbeat quickened. There was no reeling it back, so you pressed him further, “Even if we don’t end up together, I wouldn’t keep his baby from him. That’s wrong.”

“What he’s done to you is worse.”

“You’re right,” You said, trying to maintain the calm, “I know that now. And I understand that you care about me-”

“Do you understand? Really understand? Huh?” 

“Rafe-” You pushed at his chest, and he grabbed your wrists tightly. Your eyes widened as you struggled against him, “Please don’t hurt me.”

Powerless, he held you there, “I’d love your baby like it was mine, I would. And soon after, we could have our own. That’s what I want, for us to be a family,” Each word was low, tight, and controlled as he glared down at you. 

“Okay,” You agreed, scared more than anything, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll show you,” He was completely cold now, “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you. How you deserve to be treated. Everything I can give you. Then you’ll see, huh?”

He forced you down to the plush blue carpet with his body weight. You weren’t used to how your center of gravity had shifted, how your belly was also keeping you from being able to push back against him, “Please,” You said over and over again, your arms flailing until he pinned them above your head. You were out of breath already, and you had to slow your movementsand stop your struggling just to catch your breath. In this position, the baby is pressed against your further against your diaphragm, “Rafe, don’t.”

He just looked at you hungrily, grunting as he pulled down your bottoms and underwear. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” He reached between your legs, and you felt your body freeze, “Fucking gorgeous … I’m so lucky.”

You might’ve swooned in any other context. You were more swollen and much more sensitive, meaning you felt every caress that he made. You didn’t want to, but your head tilted back as he carefully rubbed your sensitive mound, “I’ll make you feel good … haven’t been touched in so long. Daddy’s gonna take care of you,” You told yourself that your body was just reacting, that it didn’t matter how good it felt because you didn’t ask for it. He kept your hands pinned only using one of his, as he used his other to undo his jeans. When he finally freed himself, able to palm his growing hardness through his briefs, he let go of your wrists. On your elbows, you tried to pull yourself away and you caught a glimpse of a smirk on his face. He liked this. Watching you struggle and attempt to crawl away. 

You yelped when he grabbed your hips, pulling you back and lifting them up at the same. He was inside of you before you could fully comprehend it. You could handle it if he thrust hard into you if he destroyed you fast, but Rafe took his time with you. There was no rush or hurry in his movements. He went as deep as you would take him, and his long strokes left you crying out with each one. 

You could handle it if it weren’t personal, but Rafe leaned over you and stared into your eyes with fierce determination. He talked you through every rush of pleasure, “I know, baby,” He’d coo when he knew it was too much, “Feels too good, don’t it?”

“I know you’re gonna cum for me,” He’d say when your eyes threatened to roll back into your head. “Cum all over me, baby,” He said when you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

When he spilled into you, your body froze again. He cursed, his hips rutting into you. You felt every drop of him, and he didn’t pull out until he’d fully emptied himself inside of you. He sits back on his knees, and you hear him pull up his zipper. 

You flinched when you felt his hand on your thigh again.

“I’m sorry.”

What exactly he was apologizing for, you had no idea.

Rafe had gotten what he wanted because you didn’t speak out of turn once over the next two days. At some point, you expected the cavalry to arrive and come save you, but that hope shrank with each passing day. He invited you out of your room, and each time, you denied it. You easily recalled what happened the last time you left your room. You had all you could mentally handle within the room, and Rafe would bring you all three needed meals and snacks. You were quiet when he started the conversation, but you mustered up a few sentences for him when he grew frustrated at the lack of back and forth. 

You should have been focused on escape, but all you could think about was never letting him do to you again what he had done on the nursery floor. Being pregnant already made you feel like you had no control over your body. Rafe amplified that feeling, making you feel even more vulnerable and easily manipulated given your current state.

You spent most of the day sleeping, punctuated by long baths or staring out the window. Rafe woke up early each morning to tend to chores, the animals, and the early summer harvest. The vast expanse of land meant you didn’t see all the animals during the day, but in the afternoons when he fed Wrangler and Sadie, many of the animals rushed to the fence, hoping for scraps.

“Got you some books,” Rafe said when he came to see you around dinner time. To your disappointment, he wasn’t carrying any dinner with him. He set the stack of books on the dresser before adding, “And I ordered pizza.”

“Thank you,” you said, resting your head back down on your pillow, hoping that meant he’d bring it to you later. 

“Come watch a movie with me, I finally got the surround sound set up.”

“I’d like to eat up here, please?” You asked quietly, “I don’t feel good.”

“You haven’t felt good since you got here.” You let him sit in silence, “You’ll come eat downstairs tonight, Y/N.”

This was the first time you felt he was forcing you out of your room. You didn’t have the courage to upset him, so you lifted yourself out of the bed. He watched you intently, as if waiting for your compliance, aware of your recent streak of obedience. The way the look on his face softened was obvious, and you hated how relieved that made you feel. 

This time, he led you down the staircase, his hand gently guiding the small of your back as you held onto the railings. As you descended, you caught a glimpse of the front door, sunlight streaming in from the setting sun, but Rafe guided you in the opposite direction.

You passed through a large dining area with a substantial dark wooden table near the front of the house, then continued into a cozy living room. A plush sectional couch faced a massive stone fireplace, underneath which neatly stacked firewood awaited use. Above, a large flatscreen TV was mounted on the wall, flanked by windows dressed in simple, cream-colored curtains. Adjacent to the windows, a bookcase filled mostly with DVDs caught your eye.

He took the time to show you the downstairs bathroom and laundry room before leading you to the kitchen, which was located toward the back of the house. It was straight out of a magazine, spacious and well-appointed, complete with a charming breakfast nook. Many of the touches seemed to reflect Rose's influence, and seeing the rest of the house gave you a clearer picture of just how well-off he was.

A box of pizza sat atop the kitchen island, and Rafe pulled out one of the stools for you to sit on.

“You take care of this place all by yourself?” You asked as Rafe helped you into the seat.

“I’ve had some help,” He shrugged, “But I won’t need much help anymore now that you’re here.”

“You’re expecting me to take care of the house?” 

“Someday soon,” he spoke nonchalantly, opening the pizza box. He grabbed a slice straight from it and started eating so you assumed you could do the same. He added with a slightly full mouth, “Better than working at The Wreck.”

You took a bite of your pizza, not wanting to delve into that conversation further. You should’ve known he was expecting you to be a homemaker. Now that you were gonna be a Mom, you didn’t need to have any career aspirations. 

You picked at your slice under his careful eye. This house exuded a warmth that almost drowned out the coldness you felt toward Rafe. You took the time to map out all the windows and doors and the downstairs layout. It kept your mind busy and, combined with the food, provided a helpful distraction. 

“Are you feeling better now?” His voice cut through the silence. 

“I’m fine.”

“You still like those cheesy rom-coms?”

A memory flashed in your mind. You saw Rafe sitting across from you on his bed. A huge party was going on downstairs in Tannyhill, but you and he were upstairs watching a movie. You wanted so badly to show him Enchanted. He didn’t act impressed at the time, but you could tell he liked it because he couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen. 

“Yeah,” You answered cautiously, though the truth was that you hadn’t had time to enjoy a movie in long time. 

“I happen to have a few Patrick Dempsey movies … if that interests you,” He smiled, trying to tease you. 

“I really should get some rest . . .”

“A movie will help you relax. Just one? C’mon, we can watch Can’t Buy Me Love,” Realizing he wouldn’t let up, you gave in.

You sat on the couch as he moved to set up the movie. You should’ve known that he would sit right next to you, his arm wrapped around the pillows directly behind you, “Relax, enjoy the movie.” He said as the movie’s intro began, and you did your best to appear more like you were. When it wasn’t sufficient, Rafe pulled you closer until you could only lay against his shoulder to be comfortable. You tried to focus on one of your favorite movies and there were moments that night when you completely forgot your circumstance. 

Yet, every additional touch brought you sharply back to reality—whether it was the gentle circles his thumb traced on your arm or the tender kisses he placed atop your head.

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

[jonathanrogersartist]

How 'The Acolyte' Disappointed Me, and Why the Themes of 'Star Wars' Matter

Someone recently commented on my 'On the Dark Side, the Jedi and the Moral Decay of Star Wars' essay with these words: 

"A lot of words for saying 'I don't like the newer media, but I won't get into specifics as to why.'"

Okay! I shall then finally clarify those specifics....

That first essay has, so far, been my biggest success on this blog, and it's attracted a number of interesting responses. Full disclosure: I wrote that fresh off the heels of feeling depressed over how the Acolyte ended, and after reading/listening to several of Leslye Headland's interviews, where she went into great detail about her ideas behind the show's choices, the themes she's trying to get across, and what personal baggage she brings to Star Wars. 

Why was I depressed?

Because the show's finale ended with the deeply problematic implication that Osha, by killing Sol and joining Qimir, has achieved true self-actualization. As Leslye herself put it, it's a 'positive corruption arc.' Interesting way to phrase it. 

Furthermore, Vernestra's actions that frame Sol for several murders, all to protect her own reputation, and to avoid oversight by the Senate, confirmed one of the things that I was really worried this show would do as soon as we began learning plot details, which is that it's leaning into this very persistent edgelord take that the Jedi are actually big ol' bastards not worth seeing as heroes. 

It's the Dave Filoni gospel of the Jedi Order as a morally broken and fundamentally hypocritical institution, a decaying monument to religious hubris, who brought about their own destruction with their arrogance and so-called rejection of emotion making them lack empathy. 

This is, as many of my followers know already, a giant misreading of George's storyline in the prequels, and what he was actually telling us about the Jedi's philosophy and code. And in my experience, it gets us some vicious pushback when we try to inform fans of it, even if we back it up with proof of George's words. 

George really did intend the Jedi to be the ultimate example of what a brave, wise, and all-loving hero should be, and are very specifically inspired by Buddhist monks. They do not 'repress emotions': they learn to regulate their emotions, so as to not let the negative ones feed the Dark Side, and they have the moral fortitude to focus on their spiritual duty. They're professionals that have dedicated themselves to a higher calling, and who still feel and display the same emotions we all feel, unless I watched very different movies from everyone else. We see that Jedi characters can still crack jokes, cry when they are sad, become scared or anxious, feel strong love and loyalty to their peers, and can even be righteously angry in some situations BUT always knowing when to pull back.

The Jedi of the prequels were victims of manipulation by Palpatine, and were caught in between a rock-and-a-hard-place with the Clone War, and they were ultimately destroyed not by their own actions, but by the treachery of Anakin Skywalker, who failed to overcome his own flaws because he refused to really follow the Jedi teachings, and was gaslit by Palpatine for decades on top of that. 

Leslye's take on Star Wars, based on how she wrote the story of the Acolyte, is that "yup, the Jedi were doomed to destroy themselves by being hypocritical and tone-deaf space cops," and she also outright compared them to the Catholic Church (this reeks of Western bias and misunderstanding of Eastern religions). The one that really stunned me, was when she said she designed Qimir to be her own mouthpiece for the experience of being queer and suppressed, who isn't allowed to just be her authentic self in a restrictive world. Which, to me, implies that Leslye wanted to depict the Dark Side as actually a misunderstood path to self-actualization that the Jedi, in keeping with their dogma of repressing emotions, only smear as 'evil.' 

Let me remind you all: Qimir is officially referred to as a Sith Lord, by Manny Jacinto, by Leslye, etc. And what are the Sith, exactly? 

Space fascists. Intergalactic superpowered terrorists. Dark wizard Nazi-coded wannabe dictators, whose ideology is of might-makes-right, survival of the fittest, and the pursuit of power for power's sake. To depict followers of this creed as an analogy for marginalized people who have literally been targeted and murdered throughout history BY the real-life inspirations for the Sith.... I find revolting and tone-deaf by Leslye. 

SO.... seeing how that show ended, and reading up on how Leslye intended it to be interpreted (Osha's 'triumph' over the 'toxic paternalism' of Sol/the Jedi in general), really put me in a funk, because deep down, I could just sense that this was not at all compatible with the ethos of Star Wars. It made me go on a deep-dive into the BTS of the writing of the prequels and George's ideas about the Jedi, and it's how I discovered the truth that Dave Filoni has been pretty egregiously misrepresenting George's themes for several years now, usurping George's words with his own personal fanfic about the motivations of characters like Anakin, or Qui-Gon, or the Jedi Council, etc. 

His influence on the franchise has caused this completely baseless take on the Jedi to become so widespread as to rewrite history for modern fans. Who are utterly convinced now that this anti-Jedi messaging WAS George's vision all along, and they get real mad at you if you show them actual proof of that being a lie. 

And the Acolyte is perpetuating this twisting of the very core of Star Wars. This is what I meant by the 'moral decay of Star Wars.' 

The Star Wars saga was made by George Lucas in 1977 to accomplish these specific tasks: 

To remind people of what it really means to be good.

What evil actually looks like, and how it comes from our fears and greed.

To teach kids how to grow up and choose the right path that will make them loving, brave, honest people that stand up to tyrants.

To give the world a story that returns to classic mythological motifs and is fundamentally idealistic, to defy the uptick in cynical and nihilistic storytelling after the scandals of Vietnam and Watergate broke Americans' belief in there being such a thing as actual heroes anymore. 

THAT is the soul of Star Wars. That is what George meant for this remarkably creative universe to say with its storytelling. But I sincerely think that what the Acolyte told, was that morality is relative, the heroes of this saga are actually bastards, the fascist death-cult is misunderstood, and a young woman being gaslit into joining said death-cult is a triumphant girlboss moment. When it actually comes across as the tragedy of a broken person choosing the wrong path that will only make her miserable, full of hatred and powerlust, and hurt innocent people along the way. 

The Acolyte betrayed one of George's most critical lessons: that the Dark Side ruins people, and if you want to truly become your best self, you must choose the path of Light, and the Jedi are the ones who have best mastered that path. So if the future of Star Wars is to continue framing the Jedi and their teachings as some corrupt and immoral system that is making the galaxy worse, then I would rather stick to rewatching the classic scripture of Episode 1-6. George wrote a complete and satisfying story, that is thematically consistent, and in my opinion should have been allowed to rest. 

I will not hate on new fans that love the new material, but I will pity them if they really think any of this is actually faithful to George's vision (they may very well simply not care, either, which troubles me too), and I am afraid of a show like Acolyte teaching young people to see the Jedi's philosophy as wrong, and the Sith as having a point. 

(P.S. I have a moral duty to clarify this, given the discourse around the show: No, this is not a problem with 'wokeness,' or diversity, or representation; that side of the fandom is very sick in the head and not to be taken seriously. 

It's a problem with Leslye's themes and tastes as a storyteller, being fundamentally against the ethos of Star Wars and how it soured the entire show in hindsight for me... a show that I was actually really liking, before the finale dropped its thematic nuke.)

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.

His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.

He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.

His visits grow more frequent. 

You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been. 

But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally. 

And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.

There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.

You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues. 

This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.

It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends. 

You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.

So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.

“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually. 

“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”

His words make you sit up straight. 

“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation. 

Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.

Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.

“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”

You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.

“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”

His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”

William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.

“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”

He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.

He grabs your hands and kisses them.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”

William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.

When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.

He immediately stops.

Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath. 

“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”

He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”

A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

He tilts his head and laughs. 

“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.

“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.

“Apologies, hope I’m not  interrupting anything?”

Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.

Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.

“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.

William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time. 

He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.

Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.

When he releases you, you’re breathless.

“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.

“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.

Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.

“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”

Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.

His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you. 

“Nothing.”

You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.

“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.

“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”

You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.

“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”

“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”

Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”

His mouth quirks lopsidedly.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point. 

No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.

You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.” 

He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”

Your brow arches in question.

“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”

Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.

“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.

You shake your head.

“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”

His unwavering  inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of, princess?”

You suck in a shaky breath.

“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”

“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”

“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”

You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene. 

A lame excuse flows from your lips.

“I don’t even know what to wear.”

“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.

“What?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.

“Wait, Coryo…”

He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.

“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.

You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.

It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to. 

Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”

“Just trust me. Try it.”

Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.

Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.

Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.

“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.

Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.

“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”

“I do but…”

“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.

Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.

You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.

He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.

“Hm nice, twirl for me.”

His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.

Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.

“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done. 

He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.

“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.

“I promised I would,” you defend.

He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”

Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.

He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,

“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”

You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room. 

“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”

Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs. 

He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t. 

It makes you realize how much you missed. 

After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.

Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.

You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”

Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.

A slow exhale drops from your chest. 

“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”

It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.

It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.

Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”

“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”

A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it. 

“Hm, what’s wrong?”

A frown puckers his forehead. 

“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.

You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”

“There’s something in it.”

“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”

Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…

Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.

He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”

“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”

“Of course.”

He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy. 

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.

“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.

A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you. 

The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.

If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.

“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.

“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Head…heavy.”

“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.

You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds. 

Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.

“You just need a little bit of rest.”

Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.

“Rest…” you echo.

But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness. 

Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest. 

“Coryo, what is happening-”

His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side. 

When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss. 

He returns to the space between your thighs. 

You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs. 

Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”

His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core. 

“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”

You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t. 

“I…”

The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.

Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling. 

You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.

He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.

Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.

He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.

He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.

Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.

“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.

A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles. 

You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.

A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him. 

When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead. 

Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.

Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.

“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted. 

His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.

“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone. 

The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.

A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.

The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.

A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.

His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.

Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.

Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.

“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”