#i think u could keep it if you truly wanted it but it would be like 10 bucks or something

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

found you - ch. 6 (part I)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! smart! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten, baby), sexual themes, gruesome/violence, physical assault, there’s probably more but i can’t think of it all at the top of my head—just be warned & pls if there’s anything that makes u even slightly uncomfortable pls do not proceed truly

word count/plot: [15.7k!] ara catches gojo’s attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins…

a/n: hiii guys i'm back !!! as per usual sorry for taking so long to write/post this but once again writing is truly just a side hobby for me. i do try to write as much as i can whenever i get muse tho so there is that. anyway, i apologize in advance for any spelling/grammar or logistics errors. i did get most of my 'crime investigation' knowledge from tv shows so don't bop me in the head if ur an expert & ur like 'what is this writer on abt' regardless, ya'll r in for a ride. i'm going to try posting the second part of this either tomorrow or wednesday so keep an eye out (it was too much to fit in 1 post oop)

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , ch. 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ] , chapter 6 [ part 1 | part 2 ]

He walked off the stage, the cheers still loud after his speech. He glanced over at Ara's empty seat beside his.

He plopped onto his chair and glanced at her empty seat once more. He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know her opinion on his speech. He'd managed to get their fellow classmates rather riled up, the complete opposite of her somewhat serious speech.

The vice principal standing nearby seemed to take notice of him glancing at Ara’s seat. She offered him a small smile before supplying,

“She went to the bathroom.”

“Oh, thanks.”

She merely nodded before facing Principal Yaga, who was currently speaking on the stage. He was now handing out the rest of their peers diplomas.

Gojo was bored out of his mind. He cheered as loud as he could for his friends but-Goddamn- were there really so many heads in their class? He never realized. But it was entertaining to see Toji turn red as a tomato when everyone cheered as loud as they could when he crossed the stage. The bastard finally graduated.

He cupped his hands and hollered, “TOJIIII LETSGOOOOO!”

Toji briefly shot him a middle finger as he passed.

Gojo grinned, lowering his hands from his face before glancing over at Ara beside him— she still wasn’t there.

His brows furrowed. She should be back by now.. he slipped his phone out of his pocket and checked her location. She was in the bathroom.

He texted her.

s: u good?

s: u missed toji crossing the stage

s: the whole entire school clapped for him

s: they were ready for his ass to LEAVE

He slipped his phone back into his pocket.

10 minutes passed.

He pulled out his phone again and checked her location. She was still in the bathroom.

s: ara

s: ??

s: r u okay?

He contemplated going to the bathroom himself. It'd been too long. He then heard the next student's name.

“Tristan shin.”

Fuck. Shoko’s name was coming up. He'd check after Shoko crossed the stage. A few more names were said until finally,

“Ieiri Shoko.”

Gojo shot up, yelling and cheering like a hooligan. He reached underneath his seat for the confetti cannon and shot it in her direction.

Shoko locked eyes with him and let out a laugh. She was still laughing as she shook the principal’s hand before taking her diploma.

She stuck her tongue out at him as she passed the row he sat in. He grinned back.

Alright, now it was check on ara time. He peeped her location once more to see she was still in the bathroom before standing up. The vice principal glanced his way and he mouthed ‘bathroom’ before slipping away.

He walked past the rows of students to head towards the closest bathroom. Their graduation was outdoors so the nearest bathroom was the one close to the tennis field.

He walked to the bathroom, briefly glancing at the men’s door before walking right into the women’s bathroom.

“Ara?” he asked.

He glanced around before walking towards the stalls to see that none of the stalls were occupied.

His brows furrowed before he glanced down at her location on his phone to make sure her location was right. Yes, it was supposed to be this bathroom. She should be here-

He then grew more confused when he realized his texts never delivered. Then suddenly the dot over the map for her location disappeared.

He frowned before glancing up from his phone to immediately notice one of the sinks filled to the brim with water. He walked over to see her phone in the water.

He quickly pulled her phone out and tried to turn it on. The screen remained black.

Shit. Looks like she needs a new phone. He found it hard to believe she would leave her phone behind in a sink full of water by mistake. This also didn’t answer the big question of where the hell she was.

He glanced around the bathroom. Something felt off.

He entered each stall, searching thoroughly. Nothing. He glanced over the bathroom counter once more. Nothing.

Just as he was about to head out, he stopped. His eyes darted towards the trash bin before approaching it.

He froze for a millisecond.

He reached in and pulled out her rumpled dress. It was a dainty little Ralph Lauren dress from the early 2000s, an archived piece. He glanced within the trash to find her graduation cloak, cap and heels in there as well.

His jaw locked. His heart plummeting to his stomach. Did something happen to her?

Maybe she hadn’t been alone in the bathroom, it was for public use after all. Anyone could come in. Something cold settled within him at thought. 

He stalked out of the bathroom, searching to see if there were cameras near the entrance. Fuck. There weren’t any at this bathroom.

He squeezed her dress in his hand. 

I’m gonna find you, Ara, don’t worry

He was working with the police, but he wanted to choke them all out.

“What the fuck do you mean the academy doesn’t have any cameras on their outdoor campus?”

He spun on Principal Yaga, “The fuck am I paying 50k a year to this school for?”

The chief officer flinched while-as Mr.Yaga frowned, “Watch yourself, Satoru. We’ve never had a need for it. I still gave the police all the camera footage I had.”

Satoru’s gaze was sharper than razors but his attention redirected to the Chief Officer when he spoke,

“We've searched through the footage of the entrances and exits of the academy building that Mr.Yaga provided and we couldn’t find anyone that fit Ara’s profile.”

“Let me see the footage.” Gojo replied.

“I assure you our tech intel team ha—“

“I don't care. I want to see the footage myself.”

Principal Yaga eyed him for his tone as the Chief officer nodded once, “We can arrange that.”

Gojo stood in a tv screen covered room. Principal Yaga stood behind him as a cop beside him explained which screen was which.

“-and this camera is the main entrance of the school. All the footage is time stamped to start at 9:15 am. 30 minutes before the estimated time ara went to the bathroom. If you’d like to speed through you can just hit these buttons.”

“Sweet.” He placed his hand on the back of the cop’s chair and pulled the seat out for him, “I'm gonna take this seat.”

“Uh-“ the cop appeared flustered and he looked at the chief behind Gojo who nodded at him to comply. “sure.”

The cop stood up and Satoru didn’t waste any time slipping into his seat.

He pressed play.

“Satoru, you’ve looked through all the footage several times. It’s okay to admit you can’t find anything-“

He didn’t look away from the screen as he answered sharply, “If you want to go home then just go.”

Mr.Yaga stared at him for a moment before sighing. He stood up and left.

He stared at the camera footage of the main entrance, about 10 minutes after Ara supposedly went to the bathroom. 

They’re were so many people. So many parents arriving late. Families reuniting and talking by the main lawn of the school. Some arriving in private cars others taking taxis, ubers or whatever the fuck.

The point was he couldn’t find her. He'd raked through the videos from each entrance/exit of their school about 20+ times. Meticulously checking each person and yet Ara was no where to be seen.

The cops had also returned from searching the campus. All they brought back was useless pictures of the women’s bathroom with her graduation cap, gown and heels in the trash and pointless interviews of the staff. They now had on record that the vice principal was the last person she spoke to, saying that she was going to the bathroom.

But he’d already known that.

Her phone was still getting fixed by the tech department. The water damage had thoroughly done its job. Had she done that on purpose? Or was it someone else?

Where are you, Ara?

He sat on the edge of his bed. His head in hands.

Cops swarmed his bedroom, taking pictures of every. little. thing. If he heard another camera snap he might lose his mind.

It had been one day without her. One day too long.

He was already losing it, dark voices whispered in the back of his mind-theorizing the worst of things. If something had happened to her..

No. No. Keep it together.

He sat up and walked towards the main detective on the case. Detective Rebecca, specialized in missing persons, quite experienced in her field. He already spoke to her several times. He'd answered question after question about Ara for her-Ara’s recent whereabouts, her daily routine, her schedule, her interests, her habits, her emotional variability, everything.

She was staring at Ara's side of the closet.

She glanced back at Gojo as he approached, “She had quite the collection of clothes, didn’t she?”

Ara's side of the closet was only half full. She had just started exploring her style. A pang went through him when he spotted her prom dress.

“Her collection was just starting.” he explained flatly. 

“What do you mean?” Rebecca asked.

“I mean she was just getting into figuring out her personal style,” he answered while rolling up the sleeves of his dress-shirt to his elbows, “She was into buying jewelry recently.”

He wandered over to the accessory table, glancing over the several Van Cleef, Vivienne Westwood, Chanel—Wait. His brows furrowed. Some of her Cartier and Bvlgari pieces were missing… and now that he looked at her jewelry overall, it seemed to be… a little underwhelming compared to what he’d seen before.

He knew he’d bought her more jewelry than this.

“20 Birkins, wow.” Detective Rebecca commented.

“24.” his eyes didn’t leave the jewelry display as he answered.

“What?”

“It should be 24.” he repeated before turning around. He mentally counted all the Birkins on her wall of purses. It was 20.

“4 are missing, as well as some of her jewelry.” he noted aloud.

Detective Rebecca gestured for some of the photographers to take pictures of the accessory counter and the Birkin wall.

“Could your house staff have stolen something?” she inquired.

He shook his head, “No, we haven’t had new staff in ten years. They are all legally bound, fingerprinted, background checked with no criminal records. They also get overcompensated for their jobs but Marin is the only maid allowed in my room.”

Rebecca scribbled things down in her notepad, “You allow me to speak to all your house staff?”

“Feel free.”

He knew Marin wouldn’t dare. She was loyal. The only possibility left—

“And what jewelry is missing?”

He rubbed his chin, “At first glance.. I see some of her bracelets aren’t here. She also has, like, 10 Pateks. I only see 8 here...”

“Is there any way you can provide me with a receipt of every piece of jewelry you’ve bought her since she moved in?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he examined her jewelry further, there was definitely more than he realized missing.

“Yes.” he answered.

22 Tiffany & co. and Graff bracelets. 17 Bvlgari and Cartier necklaces. 12 pairs of crystalline De Beers earrings. 8 diamond encrusted Chopard rings. 5 custom fitted dresses-all fresh off the runway from big fashion houses-4 Birkins and 2 Pateks were missing. Everything totaling up to a cool four million.

His house staff had all been interrogated and searched but nothing came of it—as he predicted. This was not his house staff’s doing.

And it was confirmed when the head of security at their academy reached out stating that a month prior to Ara’s disappearance she had momentarily been inside their security room.

She’d accused someone of stealing something of hers from Gojo’s car and wanted to watch the security footage of the academy parking lot-so they’d allowed her inside the security room to watch the camera footage—but she technically had been able to see all the screens of where the academy’s cameras were placed. He knew she was smart enough to take note of where cameras were lacking if she wanted to.

And she had.

That was why she was able to bypass the cameras on graduation.

She wanted to leave unnoticed. She’d miraculously sold four millions worth of his gifts and disappeared to god knows where.

Because she wanted to leave him.

He stared at her rumpled graduation dress in his hand. The material of it so thin that when rolled up it fit perfectly into his fist. He somehow managed to keep it on him wherever he went in the past few days that she’d been missing.

4 days. 96 hours. 5,760 minutes. 345,601 seconds…

without her.

His stomach lurched. He stepped out of his car, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t look to see if Ijichi caught the keys he tossed his way and stalked inside the estate.

He was squeezing her dress in his hand so hard that his fingernails dug into his palm-breaking skin.

He bounded up the steps, barely noticing the maid flinching when he suddenly made it to the top step just as she was about to descend. She quickly scurried out of his way.

He walked down the hallway before shoving the double doors of his room open.

His eyes naturally went to the bed first and for a moment he imagined it. Her sitting there, with a pretty little slip dress on and nothing else. She’d finally grown comfortable wearing slip dresses around the house.

He could picture her feet up in the air as she lay stomach down on the bed, Macbook open in front of her. Her face a mask of concentration.

He could almost feel the soft skin of her throat against his lips—he usually kissed her there first, in greeting. He liked to inhale her sweet yet sophisticated perfume—roses and warm cashmere, before capturing her lips and showing her just how much he missed her.

He blinked, finding himself standing right beside the bed. His hand on the sheets.

Ara nowhere to be seen.

He suddenly yanked the sheets off the bed, tossing it with enough strength that it managed to wrap itself around a lamp and hit the ground with it. The sound of a crash ensued.

He stared at the fallen lamp for a moment. He liked that, that sound. It was satisfying.

He suddenly grabbed the pillows, flinging them across the room, letting them hit anything and everything.

He kicked over a nightstand before spotting one of the loveseats he and Ara used to cuddle on. He picked it up and threw it across the room, hitting the TV and making it instantly fall from its place and crack as it hit the ground.

He spotted her macbook and threw that too. It'd already been thoroughly searched and it led to nothing. NOTHING .

He wasn’t aware of what he was doing, simply moving at will. Things were getting thrown-things were breaking, shattering, sprawling in pieces all over the floor. The sound of everything breaking fueled him and he didn’t want to stop.

He didn’t remember entering the closet but the next thing he knew he was yanking off her clothes from the hangers, shoving open her drawers with enough strength to break it from its hinges and throw it.

He grabbed her shoes and flung them before kicking down her shoe shelf, making the whole thing crumble and fall apart.

He punched the glass of her Birkin wall and threw a Birkin into her accessory stand, making everything spill out and shatter. The sound was deafening.

“Satoru!”

He froze, his whole body tensing for a moment before he closed his eyes—forcing himself to breathe.

“Satoru, what the fuck happened?”

He half-turned, suddenly chuckling rather dryly, “What didn’t happen.”

Geto stopped at his side, staring at the state of the room and closet in horror. He then faced him.

Geto eyed his bloody hands, “What happened?” he whispered.

Satoru glanced down, belatedly noticing his bloody hands himself.

“Answer me.” Geto demanded, “Is she okay?”

“I don't know and I don't care.”

Geto raised a brow, “What?”

He suddenly grabbed Geto’s collar, “She fucking left me, Suguru. She’s worthless.”

Geto shoved his hands off, “The fuck are you on about?”

“She planned this shit. All of it. She sold the gifts I bought her and dipped with the damn money.”

Geto’s eyes widened, “How-how do you know?”

“Detective Rebecca found listings of all her missing stuff on the black market. She posted the items from fake accounts and used different bank accounts for each. She transferred the money to e-gift cards, stocks, digital bank accounts, whole bunch of shit so it’s a fucking maze to track where she deposited the money to.”

He went on, “The fake identities she made to get on the black market all have their own bank accounts. She used their accounts to buy a shit-ton of plane tickets set to depart on the day of and day after graduation. Rebecca’s tryna trace the flights to see if they were used, sold or whatever the fuck but I think it’s all a shitty hoax.”

He seethed out, “She musta known that we were gonna find her fake identities—that’s why she booked so many fuckin’ flights. Tryna lead us on a fake trail while she probably used a whole ‘nother identity to take a flight somewhere else—that’s if she even took a flight.”

Geto was frozen, contemplating all of this.

“And her phone?” Geto asked, “Did you find anything on there?”

He shook his head, “Her phone is dead. They accessed her apple ID through another device but they found nothing. Bitch was thorough.”

Geto instinctively wanted to reprimand him for referring to her as a bitch but if this was all true… he was still too shocked by the revelation.

“She…planned this?”

“For months. right under my nose—fucking slutted herself out to me the entire time.”

He looked at Satoru’s enraged expression, he’d never seen his best friend look like this, even when he ranted about his uncle.

“Do you.. really think she would do all of this?” Geto asked.

“I-“ Gojo’s voice cracked, “It's not about what I think, it’s what she did.”

He slowly shook his head, a mirthless laugh leaving him, “Of course she’d be smart enough to use me.”

He felt like he was on the bad end of a really sick joke. He was so… angry, so angry it made his skin itch. None of the mess he created appeased how twisted he felt inside. It felt like his organs had been ripped out and haphazardly stuffed back in and yet, his mind was still attempting to make his body work despite bleeding out all over the place.

He wanted to make her bleed too. He wanted to make her just as angry—just as used—just as betrayed.

“I'm gonna find her.” he promised lowly.

Geto’s eyes widened at his tone.

“Should I kill her when I find her?” he asked, more to himself than Geto.

“Stop talking nonsense, Satoru. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Really?” he chuckled dryly, “I feel like this is the clearest I’ve thought in a while.”

He glanced down at his bloody hands, outstretching his long, scraped up fingers. He watched a dot of blood trail down his wrist from a cut. He didn’t feel any pain.

“How can you even say that, man. You’d melt like fucking putty if you saw her come running into your arms right now. You love that girl.”

Geto’s voice felt distant. He suddenly remembered a time when he and Ara had been messing around, horse-playing and she’d gotten so annoyed at him that she’d thrown a book at him.

If he’d been looking when she threw it, he definitely would’ve caught it but since he’d just turned around it hit his arm.

It was a paperback book so it wasn’t meant to cause any real damage but somehow the end of the thin plastic cover managed to strike a clean line across his forearm. It truly hadn’t hurt but it bled like it did. The blood almost looked like prop blood.

She’d immediately started apologizing, he wanted to laugh it off but she’d been completely serious when she ran off to get the first aid kit. She’d cleaned up his wound with such gentleness, it shocked him.

He’d just stared at her the entire time, in stupefied silence as she treated him as delicately as an infant, lightly dabbing the endless blood leaking from his wound with cotton balls. 

She was focused but her concern was evident in the way her brows subtly furrowed. He could almost see why her father might’ve wanted her to be a doctor. Her jaw was clenched tight as she applied the larger band aid perfectly, covering each bit of the cut.

Once she was done, she sat on the bed beside him, completely still, silent and serious as ever.

“I'm sorry.” she mumbled.

He couldn’t help but crack a grin, “It doesn’t even hurt, baby.”

“Sh.” she shot him a look, “I still don’t like it.”

“Like what?"

“I don't like hurting you.” she snapped.

Something inside him softened.

Her eyes darted away, “Or anyone..” she muttered, correcting herself.

It didn’t matter. his gut had already done this funny little flip flop thing at her words. He grinned despite himself.

“Nah, I heard you the first time~”

You don’t like hurting me, huh? Then what is this?

What is THIS?

He swiveled around, fiercely kicking the remainder of her accessories on the ground. Sending beads, diamonds and broken gold in the air. A heftier one of her chain-link bracelets hit the mirror wall, instantly making it shatter. The sound catastrophic as pieces of glass sprawled across the floor.

The next thing he knew Geto was grabbing him, nearly picking him up as he tried to drag him out the closet. He was saying things but Gojo could barely hear him. His heartbeat too loud as he thrashed fiercely in his hold, still managing to kick his leg out to deliver another lethal blow to her things. More things shattered as he growled.

Geto shoved him out, before closing the closet doors behind them.

“That’s enough—”

“How dare she fucking leave me!” he got all the way up in Suguru’s face, “I gave her everything—everything!” he snarled.

“I gave her my fucking all cuz I love her! She knows I fucking love her. I can't eat, sleep or think without her. She knows it—she’s torturing me.”

Geto’s stoic expression fell. He hated seeing the pain in his eyes, “Sato—“

“She told me she loved me too,” he took a step back, his eyes suddenly distant.

“Was I not supposed to believe her?” he whispered.

He looked down at his reddened hands once more, droplets of blood hitting the floor as he raised them slightly.

It was crazy to think these hands had been on every corner and speck of her skin. Her hair. her lips. her throat, merely days ago. Touching her was as easy as breathing. Her presence was more comforting than being alone. Her eyes were his favorite mirrors.

and now she was just… gone.

He shook his head, “Played me right in front of my face.”

He thought he heard Geto’s voice but he could barely focus on it.

He merely clenched his hands into fists, letting more red droplets hit the ground-at the speed of pounding rain.

“How could she do this to me?” he muttered brokenly.

Finally he felt pain, a rush of it. The feeling of it simmered through his hands and crawled up his arms. Numbing him almost—to the emotional pain he felt inside, but he’d have to die to fully cleanse himself of his internal pain this way.

Suddenly Geto pushed him, drawing him out of his trance.

“Stop it!” Geto was fuming.

His shock transformed into something more cold, “Get out.”

“You need to get a nurs—“

“I SAID GET OUT.”

He never yelled at Geto before. In fact it was typically the opposite.

A tense silence hung in the air.

Geto’s heated glare didn’t budge from Gojo's piercing one. The ring of finality in Gojo’s words seemed to echo.

“Fine.” Geto spat.

He stalked out of the room without a glance back.

Out of the 107 flights she’d booked through her fake identities, 64 were not used, 38 were re-sold and 5 were cancelled.

Rebecca had tracked all of the flight tickets that had gotten re-sold and confirmed them. None of them were her.

Rebecca had informed him of this with regret laced in her tone—as if there was nothing else. No more leads.

But he refused to believe it was over.

It just wasn’t.

All of the flights she’d booked had been from LAX airport. He knew the chances were shit but he had to try. He had to do something—even if it was something as simple as walking around the airport for clues or maybe just to see what she might’ve seen if she’d been here.

The cops had already scoured the cameras of LAX for her but, of course, they found nothing. but he refused to let that stop him.

He entered the airport, the expected packed sight before him. He'd been here several times himself but he’d never entered through the main entrance. He was usually led through a private entrance straight to his jet.

Regardless, a little walk around couldn’t hurt.

He walked around slowly, taking his time to absorb his surroundings. It took him a good 6 hours to walk around the entire LAX in his nonchalant, detailed search.

After purchasing 5 candy bars, 2 coffees and one pack of oreos. He hadn’t found anything. nothing that could lead back to her.

The only places he hadn’t searched were obviously the employee only areas and the women’s bathrooms. The latter bothered him slightly but obviously it was not his place to enter those places.

He just wanted one damn clue. One lead. He needed to find her.

It was dark outside by the time he walked out of the entrance.

As he walked, a homeless man appeared in front of him.

“Please sir, spare some money. Even a dollar would do. Anything, please.”

Gojo was still for a moment. Taking in his reeking, tattered clothes and sad crusted eyes.

The complete opposite of all the people he’d seen within the airport—all the people in there dressed like they were off duty models, as if they had paparazzi waiting to take their airport photos.

He blinked, drawing himself out of his thoughts of the juxtaposition.

He fished a hand into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. He flipped it open and pulled out five one hundred dollar bills, all the cash he had. He didn’t usually carry cash on him so this guy truly caught him at the right time.

He handed the money to him. The homeless man’s eyebrows skyrocketed.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, sir!”

Gojo waved him away, “Spend wisely.”

He nearly snickered at that-he should probably take his own advice.

“I will, I will!” the homeless man skipped away.

“That was nice of you, kid.”

He glanced over to see an officer leaning against a pole nearby. He was bald and appeared to be in his late twenties. His lighter flickered on as he took a puff of his cigarette.

The scent of cigarettes grew stronger the closer he walked to the cop.

“Thanks.” The cop looked just as tired as he felt. He decided a small conversation couldn’t hurt, “Are homeless people even supposed to be out here?”

“Not really but if I were to try stop em they’d just come back the next day. At this point as long as they keep to themselves, we don’t bother em.”

“hm..” Gojo eyed his cigarette curiously.

“But it’s definitely lessened a bit. I bet that guy you just gave cash won't be back. Another one of the regulars left a week ago,” he shook his head, “Lucky bastard found a goddamn diamond ring and planned on pawning it. He’s bound to get a pretty penny for it for sure.”

“Isn’t there some sort of policy against that?”

“I was gonna confiscate it and report him but he said some young girl gave it to him.” he shook his head, “Dunno, if it’s the truth but I decided to let him have it. He obviously needs it more than whoever left it.”

Gojo absentmindedly chewed at the inside of his cheek. He knew this was far fetched but-

He pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture of Ara’s promise ring.

“Did the ring look like this by any chance?”

The officer’s eyes widened in recognition, “Yeah! what the- how did y-“

Gojo's entire demeanor changed as he suddenly grabbed the cop by the collar, “Where’s that homeless man?”

“Hey-“ he tried to pull him off but Gojo was taller, stronger, “I-I just told you, I haven’t seen him in a week!”

Gojo manhandled him once more, shaking him, “Do you have any idea where he went?”

“Dunno-I’m assuming the nearest pawn shop? He's homeless so I doubt he’d go any farther than he has to.”

Gojo hastily let him go, glaring all the while. The wicked edge to his eyes capable of making anyone feel smaller than a speck of dust.

“You should be fired.” he said it with such certainty the cop almost felt like he’d gotten fired right then and there, but of course this boy wasn’t capable of that—

But he was. It slowly dawned on him.

He didn't need to know the boy to tell he was of worth and if the ring was related to this boy somehow, he knew he could get in trouble for letting the homeless man go with such a precious item. He could potentially lose his badge depending on how far this kid wanted to take it.

He cleared his throat, “Listen-“

“Do you remember if he said anything about the girl who gave it to him?”

He momentarily froze at being interrupted before shaking his head, “He didn’t say much about her other than that she looked high school aged. I assumed she’s just another rich chick that walks in and out of here on a daily.”

His jaw clenched. He nearly shoved his phone in the officer’s face to show him his lockscreen. It was a picture of her.

“You know this girl?”

He paused, his eyes flickering between Ara’s picture and him, “Yeah.. that’s the girl who’s missing.”

“She's my girlfriend and the owner of that ring.”

“What time was he here?” Detective Rebecca spoke beside him. She’d only allowed him to come with her if he kept his mouth shut—which he agreed to. If the terms would be kept, that was to be decided.

Out of the four pawn shops near the airport that they’d visited, this was the one that finally had what they were looking for. Her ring.

He couldn’t stop staring at it. They’d stored it in a small white cushioned box, much cheaper than the original box it came in.

He was only ever used to seeing it on her finger.

The owner finally stopped flipping through the binder in front of him, “He was here at 3:13 pm, last Tuesday.”

“May I see that?”

The owner turned the binder towards her. She looked it over, “He said his name was Tim Orson?”

“Yes.”

“Did he have any identification for that?”

The owner scratches the back of his bald head, “Not that I can remember..”

She takes a picture of the binder on her phone before turning the binder back to him.

“I'm going to need video footage of when he was here. Can you retrieve that?”

Gojo’s eyes flicker to the camera in the top right corner of the room.

“Yes, yes.” he nods. He glanced behind himself at his worker. He says something in Arabic before the middle school aged boy walks somewhere to the back.

“Is that your son?” she asks.

“My nephew.”

“Does he work here?”

He chuckles awkwardly, “He helps out with the shop sometimes. I never leave him here alone.”

She continues to jot things down on her notepad before saying, “Can you please tell me about your and Tim’s interaction? Did he seem any sort of way?”

The shop-owner scratched his beard, “Hmm.. he was pretty enthusiastic, which makes sense after I saw what he brought in. It took me a while to verify it because-” he laughs awkwardly as if realizing what he was about to say wasn’t quite right, “-I just wasn’t expecting him to have something like that but once I verified it, I gave him an offer and he accepted it right away.”

“How much did you offer?”

“5k.”

Gojo snorted.

Rebecca shot him a look.

“Please—you think that’s worth 5k?” he gestured towards the ring, “Anyone with a brain knows that ring is worth more than 15k off the rip. He undersold it.”

Gojo's gaze slid towards the shop-owner, “What a deal for you, eh?”

Embarrassment instantly sprawled across the shop-owner's face.

Christ. She rubbed her brow before her phone chimed.

She glanced at it, briefly reading it over before turning the phone towards the shop-owner.

“Is this what he looked like?”

Gojo glanced over to see it was an image of a fat man in his fifties.

He nodded, “Yes. That's him.”

“His name is actually Robert Starkey.” she informed him. “You really need to make sure your clients have a proper form of identification before making any sort of exchange with them.”

He avoided eye contact, nodding vigorously, “Y-yes ma’am.”

“Did he say anything about where he got the ring from?” she asked.

“No ma’am. All he said was that it was a gift from a kind young woman.”

Her and Gojo shared a glance before she asked, “Did he say when he received the gift?”

He shook his head.

“Did he say anything else about the girl that gave it to him?”

“He just said that people like her make him remember that they’re still good people in the world.”

Gojo’s brows furrowed as Rebecca further pressed, “Did he explain why?”

“No but… from the way he said it I assumed he was insinuating that whoever gave it to him gave it to him for free.”

Just then the boy reappeared with a cassette tape in hand. The shopkeeper took it from him and handed it to rebecca.

“Here is the footage of when he was here.”

She turned the cassette tape in her hand, “Wow, I haven’t seen these in a while.”

He nods as he mumbled, “We’re a little old school.”

“Is there anything else specific that you remember? Any detail helps.”

“That was all, really. He was barely here for five minutes.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.” she handed him her business card, “If you remember anything else please feel free to reach out.”

“Of course.”

Just as she swiftly turned to exit, Gojo caught her arm.

“That's all?”

She blinked, “Yes.. it seems that airport security guy was able to identify our man. Now that we confirmed it, we'll be able to use the cctv’s to see where he went after he left this store. We can track him.”

She pulled her arm out of his, “We need to get back to the station.”

“Hold on.” he stepped towards the shopkeeper. His eyes dropped to the promise ring, “I'd like to purchase my ring back.”

He stood behind Rebecca and the intelligence officer that were seated before him. They all faced the screen.

The intelligence officer, Ray, showed the fast-forwarded footage of Robert walking out of the pawn shop. The CCTV footage was rather blurry but the pep in his step was obvious.

The sped up footage showed him walking for a while before he stopped in front of Hope Homeless shelter. He seemed to pause for a moment outside, as if deliberating whether or not to go in before ultimately going in.

Ray paused the footage, “He walked about an hour and half to get to Hope Homeless shelter. I couldn’t find any more footage of him on the CCTV’s beyond that. He might still be there.”

Rebecca’s brows furrowed, “Interesting. I wonder why he would go there when he has 5K in his pocket.”

“Maybe he owes someone?” Ray theorized.

“Or maybe there’s someone else he wants to share the money with.”

“I know the director of that shelter.” Gojo spoke.

“You do?” Rebecca questioned.

“Not personally but my father did–does. I can get us a meeting with her within the hour.”

Rebecca and Ray shared a look before she looked at him, “Very well.”

They sat in her office. It was rather sparse, minimally decorated, nothing name-brand. His father had donated to this institution plenty of times, as well as other local homeless shelters, but once his Uncle took over… it wasn’t a priority anymore.

As if she’d read his mind, Rebecca asked, “How does your Dad know her?”

He glanced over to see her eyeing the name-plate on the desk. Gabriela Hopkins. Director of Hope Homeless Shelter.

“He used to donate and occasionally volunteer here.”

“A philanthropist, hm?”

“Sort of.”

“Or was it all for show?”

His eyes cut to her. It was a bold accusation to make but not entirely misplaced. Policiations did many things just for the peoples’ eyes.

“No. My mother put him up to it.”

“Why?”

“She grew up poor but she was smart so she got a full-ride scholarship to Stanford.” A pang went through him–him and Ara were supposed to go there, “That’s where my Mom and Dad met.”

The door suddenly opened and Mrs.Hopkins entered. She appeared to be in her early forties. Her black hair was up in an unkempt bun. She held a coffee cup in her hand.

She outstretched her hand to Gojo as he stood, “Satoru Gojo, it’s nice to meet you. I haven’t seen your father in a while. He’s missed here.”

She went on as he shook her hand, “I trust he’s well?”

“Yeah, he’s great.”

Her eyes slid to Rebecca, “And who is this?”

Rebecca faced her, “Detective Rebecca.”

He watched them shake hands as Mrs.Hopkin’s introduced herself, “I’m Gabriela Hopkins.”

“We’re actually here for information. I would’ve reached out to you myself but I figured it might be more efficient to have our link reach out to you instead since-according to your website-you are overlooking all branches of Hope Shelters in Southern California. Is that correct?”

He leaned back in his seat, listening to the conversation despite tapping his foot on the ground incessantly. Rebecca told him she’d let him come along on the same condition-as long as he let her do all the talking. He supposed he couldn’t blame her since his restlessness was starting to show. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept well.

Mrs.Hopkins sat at her desk across from them, “That’s correct. I was recently promoted.”

“Congratulations. How’s that been?”

She lightly shook her coffee cup as she sighed, “Considering that this is my fifth coffee cup of the day, pretty insane.”

Rebecca smiles, “I feel you. Black coffee is my vice.”

Mrs.Hopkins glanced between the two of them, “So what information is it that you’re looking for?”

“Are you familiar with Robert Starkey?” Rebecca asks.

Her eyes lit up in recognition, “I am. He visits occasionally, he used to spend more nights here but not so much recently. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“Can you tell me when he was here last?”

“Of course.” she turns to her computer and types in a few things, “He was here last Tuesday, for our dinner service.”

“Dinner service?”

“Some days we offer free dinner packets to the public. The event takes place in our courtyard.”

“Did he stay the night that night?”

“He did not.”

“Do you know how long he was here?”

She shakes her head, “We only jot down the attendees but there’s too many folks that come visit to try to track all of their timings. We do have outdoor surveillance that I could have my security look at.”

“Please do. That would be very helpful.” Rebecca then added, “Did he have any friends here? Anyone he was close to?”

“He used to have a girlfriend here, Vienna, but unfortunately she died of illness. She just didn’t have the means to get the medication she needed. She passed a few years ago.”

“Was he close to any of her friends?”

She shook her head, “Not that I’m aware. He usually keeps to himself. Vienna was the only one he used to speak to before she passed but last we spoke he told me he hangs around by the airport now. I advised him against it but… you know how they can be.”

“Does he have any family he speaks to? Any places he wants to go?”

“If he does, he’s never mentioned it.”

Rebecca nods, pursing her lips. “Well, the reason I ask is because he’s been missing for several days. We’re trying to find him because he might be related to another missing persons case as well.”

Her eyes widened, “Oh my. Has he done something?”

“That's what we’re trying to find out.”

“Well please feel free to look about. I’ll have my security officer provide you with any footage needed. Starkey doesn’t come here much after Vienna passed so there might not be a lot but-”

“That’s alright. Anything helps. Please let your residents and staff know that he is missing and if they know anything about him to let us know.”

“Will do.”

The security guard, Prince, pointed out the blurry man in the video. It was hard to see his face but from what he remembered it was the same clothes Robert Starkey was last seen wearing in the CCTV footage.

There’s a sandwich bag in his hand as he walks off the screen. It’s hard to tell what direction he walked towards with the darkened lighting due to it being night-time. They’d replayed the footage several times. Robert had just taken the sandwich bag from the worker and walked off–not a word to anyone. They’d tried to zoom in and decipher which way he walked towards but it was impossible to tell further than the street he crossed.

Prince stuffs a spoonful of apple sauce in his mouth before saying, “He crosses the street to Thorne St. but that’s just about all you see really.” He states gruffly.

Rebecca returns from her phone call, “Alright, I just told Ray to try retrieve the CCTV footage of Throne St. for that night but it might be a while before he recovers it.”

She raked a hand through her cropped hair before looking at both of them, “It’s safe to say that we are declaring Robert Starkey missing. Someone should come by to drop posters off tomorrow but… we’ll be starting the search for him now.”

“I’m joining the search.” Gojo stated.

“Gojo, I told you the meeting with Mrs.Hopkins was the last thing I’d take you along with. You’re not an investigator. The fact that you’re even here is a breach on my end–”

“An extra pair of eyes can’t hurt during a search.”

“Yes but-”

“Your department’s extra funds are coming from me, aren’t they?”

She stared at him, mouth partially open since he interrupted her.

“I want to see where my money’s going.”

The areas surrounding the homeless shelter were split into four zones. Zone A was where he and Rebecca would be searching-side by side-since Rebecca refused to leave him be. He didn’t understand her issue with him being around when he knew her Director had permissed it.

But she wanted him to go home, eat something and rest. Rest. Ha. Just the thought of it made him want to laugh.

How was he supposed to rest when his home was missing?

He eyed the nearby investigators as he walked. They were all wearing gloves examining things as little as crushed leaves on the ground. This part of town was rather dingy. Cars rarely drove past here. The stench of piss and dust came from a nearby dumpster.

The homes here looked as if they hadn’t been renovated for ages. The people within seemed scared to come out since so many cops were sprawling about. A cop had attempted to go door to door to gather information but it was quickly abandoned when folks refused to open their doors. He could only imagine the things the people living in this neighborhood had seen.

His gaze slid to Rebecca not too far ahead of him. From the tense set of her shoulders he could tell she was stressed. He knew she was anxious about the timing of it all. The last date anyone had any information on Robert was last tuesday. It’s been over a week since then. Any viable evidence hanging around would be hard to find… but not impossible.

It couldn’t be impossible.

He couldn’t help but wonder if that homeless rat had anything to do with Ara’s disappearance. Sure, Ara had planned to leave him but if he found out that rat did anything to her…

A flash of hot white anger piercing through him made him stiffen where he stood. He forced himself to exhale, slowly unclenching his fists in his pockets as he did so.

Relax. Relax. Relax.

It wasn’t working. He was still agitated. A normal person would get whiplash from how quickly anger came to him now. It was always a heartbeat away, ready to boil over and implode. He couldn’t remember if it’d always been like this or if it was just worsening now.

All he knew was that he needed her. He needed her right now.

Rebecca stopped walking mid-step when she noticed him not following her. She quickly turned around, concern etched in her features.

“You okay–”

Suddenly her walkie talkie flared. She quickly pulled it out from her belt to her lips.

“I’m here.”

He couldn’t overhear much due the discombobulated audio but from the way her brows were furrowing it couldn’t be good.

“Alright. I’ll be there.”

“What is it?” he demanded.

“They found him,” despite her words, she appeared disappointed, “In zone 4.”

It didn’t take him long to understand her disappointment.

The man seemed to be laying on the ground at a rather uncomfortable angle. One leg bent awkwardly underneath him, protruding in a way that wasn’t natural for the human body–unless a bone was broken, of course. The back of his head was caved in, he could see the white of his skull at some parts. His lips were cracked and bloody. His face swollen, the welts upon it a deep ugly purple. Something silver and sharp seemed to be poking out of his left eye as well.

The man had been brutalized, that much was clear. Especially with the dark red spot with pieces of skin and hair on the brick wall to their right. Someone had bashed his head repeatedly against it. It didn’t seem like one person did it either, not with the several footprints on the dusty ground surrounding the dark red pool of dried up, crusted blood around the body.

It was pretty clear—crystal fucking clear—that he’d been jumped, robbed and left to die for maggots to have a goddamned feast but where was his clarity? Where were the answers to his fucking questions?

How did you get her ring? Did she give it to you or did you take it from her? Did you ask her what she was doing at the airport? Did she say where she was going? Did she say who gave her that ring? How was she? Was she tearing up like she always is or was she happy—did she smile at you? Did she smile that little half-smile or did she smile with all her pretty pouty lips and teeth? Did you like what you saw? Did you like what she had on? Did you know every square inch of her skin belongs to me? Even the parts you don’t see–her soul, her body, her insides, their all mine—only mine—

“WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UPPPPP!”

He was shaking him-the dead man. He was so flimsy and smelled like absolute shit. He didn’t care if Robert’s dislocated jaw was swinging every which way or if the maggots on his stabbed eye were falling about. He needed answers. He needed them right. Now.

He was suddenly jostled upwards, his entire body being held back–with multiple hands on him. He thrashed wildly in the cops arms.

“Get the fuck off me and wake him up! WAKE HIM UP!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Rebecca’s shrill voice cut through the hot-blooded fog in his brain.

From the way the vein on her forehead seemed ready to burst, he could tell she’d been yelling for a while–he just couldn’t hear it.

Her derision was palpable, “Do you know what you just did? You messed up a crime scene—a crime scene. That’s tampering with evidence and that’s a felony–do you understand?”

He threw his head back, chuckling as he felt the oppressive California sunlight seep into his pores and make his simmering blood boil more. He shook his head as he faced her, an unprompted smile on his lips, “Am I supposed to care?”

He suddenly thrashed forward—sending the officers holding him back in a disarray as they strained to keep him in their grip, “He’s the last person to see her–who knows anything about her—who knows what he did? He should be glad he’s fuckin’ dead cuz I woulda’ done worse.”

He’d never seen a woman turn pale so fast. Her countenance aghast.

“You're done.” she looked past him, “Get him outta here. Now.”

Gojo was picking up one paper after the other, examining each image with as much care as he could. The image on the top right corner of the file seemed to blur but he quickly blinked it away. He stared at the image once-more, the girl looked nothing like Ara but he swore for a second he thought he saw her image there.

He rubbed his eyes. Am I hallucinating things now? Have I fully lost it?

Suddenly a knock resounded at the door and he glanced up. Suguru was leaning against the doorframe of his study with his arms crossed.

“You're finally home.”

Gojo set the file in his hand down, “I’ve been home.”

“What happened to living and breathing at the police station?”

He chewed at the inside of his cheek, “I’m not allowed back there anymore.”

Suguru raised a brow before shaking his head, “I wonder why.”

Suguru stepped into the room, sauntering closer to his desk. His narrow eyes ran over the several boxes in the room before noticing the neatly organized files on his desk.

“What’s all this?” 

Gojo leaned back in his seat, “They gave me busy work cuz I told them I still wanna be involved.”

Suguru picked up the file of the woman he’d been looking at earlier, “What’s the assignment?”

“Apparently, LAX has an average of 241,000 people taking flights daily, about 78,000 of them being women. Since it’s pretty much confirmed that Ara was there, they’re having me look at the 77,128 files of women who took flights on the day of our graduation. They want me to let em’ know if any of the girls look like her since according to their identification tech only a few of the girls match her features. They already traced them and confirmed their identities but I want to check for myself.”

Gojo raked his hands through his hair, “I know I could be wasting my time cuz she might’ve altered her ID photo to look nothing like her but…” his fingers tightened in his hair, “I have to do something.”

Suguru’s eyes widened as he noticed the few boxes that were closed up as if he’d already gone through them.

“How many files have you gone through?”

“6,455.”

“The hell?! Is this what you’ve been doing for the past few days?” Suguru demanded.

Gojo frowned–not even sure how long he’d been at this himself.

Suguru’s hand slammed his desk, “Are you sleeping at all?”

Gojo didn’t answer, merely staring at Ara’s promise ring that’d nearly fell off the desk.

“Damn it, Satoru. I hate seeing you like this, really–” he rubbed his brow, “How long are you gonna keep doing this to yourself?”

“As long as it takes.” he answered but he was zoned out—eyes fixed on the ring. It was her ring. He was undoubtedly sure of it. It was her exact size and it had their initials engraved within the band. He even reached out to the jeweler company to inquire if they’d sold that ring with the same customization to anyone else and they hadn’t. It was her ring—their promise.

And she’d just given it away?

“It’s about to be a month..” Suguru’s voice was low, “since she’s been missing.”

The words hit him like a knife slamming into his chest. 3 weeks and 2 days–he wanted to say, but he knew it was meaningless. Suguru was right.

It was almost a month… without her.

How did I let this happen?

“I know you miss her–”

He grit his teeth, “I don’t—”

“Just hear me out.”

He glanced over to see Suguru leaning against his desk, arms crossed, “I know you want to hate her but let’s be real, it’s more than that–and that’s okay. I.. I know how much she meant to you. What you guys had was different, everyone knows it.”

Suguru faced him, “I know you’re doing everything you can but this isn’t good for you. You’re not taking care of yourself.”

He scratched the back of his neck, “I am though–”

Suguru gestured towards the barely touched plate of food on his desk, “You’re not eating. You’re not sleeping and you don’t leave the house. This isn’t you.”

He swallowed but his mouth still felt dry. For once, he didn’t know how to respond.

His hands tightened around the armrests of his chair before he glanced up at Suguru.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

Suguru’s expression grew torn at the sight of him, “Let the police handle the rest.”

He shook his head, speaking fast, “They’re still going through the LAX surveillance footage. It’s been weeks and they haven’t got shit. It’s not enough—”

Suguru’s hand suddenly clasped his shoulder, “Stop, Satoru.”

His eyes widened as he stared at the sympathy in Suguru’s eyes.

“Stop torturing yourself like this.”

The words threw him off, leaving him confounded. He spoke slowly, “You think… I’ve lost it?”

He looked conflicted, “No but-”

“You think she’s dead?”

“No but I don’t think she wants to be found.”

His throat tightened. His words came out quiet, “So that’s it then? I should just let her go?”

He shook his head, “It’s out of your hands now. You need to stop living like this. It’s gonna eat you up alive.”

It already is. He wanted to say but he couldn’t find it in himself to speak. It hurt. His words hurt. 

He knew she didn’t want to be found—she never wanted him in the first place, until she did. He knew she did. He felt it in the way she looked at him, her gaze had changed. Some part of her had fallen for him, he was sure of it and yet it felt like he was the only one who knew. 

Why did you leave me, Ara? Why?

Do you really think you can forget me?

Only he knew how much opening up to him meant to her. Only he knew how much courage it took for her to come to his doorstep that night. Only he knew that relying on other people was a vulnerability to her and yet he’d got her to rely on him anyway. Only he knew that his lips had touched every mole she was insecure about on her body. Only he knew how badly she needed him to ease her after her nightmares in the dark.

Unraveling herself the way she did worked in the long game to outsmart him but some things could never be undone. She’d only gone to such lengths because she knew it too.

you can run, you can hide, but you can never escape being mine.

He barely felt Suguru squeeze his shoulder, “Come on. Let’s get In-n-Out with Shoko.”

He smiled halfheartedly, “Like old times?”

“Like old times.” Suguru repeated.

He looked at his reflection as he adjusted the collar of his suit. He didn’t bother to even try tame his hair.

He’d been dodging his Uncle’s invites to lame old people events the entire summer but he supposed his avoidance had hit its limit. He was required to come to this dinner party. It was commemorating the 70th somethin’ year anniversary of Gojo Industries.

His Uncle had booked out a venue. He knew there was bound to be tons of champagne, hand-shaking, speeches and all that shebang. His Uncle had told him to prepare a speech but he decided he’d just wing it. Everyone was enamored by him anyway.

He reached for his cologne only to freeze when his gaze caught the display stand. It was a two tier stand, the top was for his colognes, the bottom for her perfumes.

His row was completely stuffed with cologne bottles but hers only had a few. She had just started expanding her scent palate before she’d fallen in love with one perfume. He’d been in the store with her when she discovered it. He remembered how wide her eyes had gotten the second she took a whiff from the test strip. It’d been the cutest thing..

He snatched the perfume up faster than the human eye could follow. He threw off the cap and sprayed it in the air before him.

He closed his eyes.

He set the perfume down with a thunk as he laughed. His hands flattening against the bathroom counter as he faced downwards, shaking his head as he laughed uncontrollably.

He couldn’t stop laughing.

He felt like she was right there. He felt like she was right next to him.

He felt her pulse rapidly firing away against his lips. Her nails digging into his shoulders.

“sato—hnnnng—s-slow down. slow down! ngh!”

He nipped at her jaw, adding to the collection of hickeys on her neck. Her scent clouding his mind.

“you can take it.”

He gripped the edge of the bathroom counter as his mind spiraled.

He sucked at the skin in the crook of her shoulder and neck. He tasted her perfume on his tongue.

She shoved him back, “Satoru.”

Her worry evident as she stared up at him, “We’re in school.”

Her eyes darted down the hallway, checking either side before leaning back against the lockers they were hiding behind.

His hand slipped up the back of her thigh, squeezing her ass underneath her skirt uniform. It was just so cute and plump, he couldn’t resist.

She jumped as he kneaded the soft flesh.

He tilted his head, grinning, “Everyone’s in class, kitten~”

One of her hands pressed against his chest while the other pushed at his forearm, “Stop.” she chastised.

His fingers gripped the countertop so hard it hurt.

She squirmed, burying her face in his chest as he kissed a trail up her arm to her wrist, her scent wafting over him. 

“That tickles.” her voice raspy with sleep, “I can’t sleep like this.”

He’d just scooped her up-bundled in the blanket and all-from the nearby couch onto his lap.

“You’ll be fine.” He teased.

And he was right because once he resumed reading the lengthy document on his computer, she’d passed out peacefully five minutes in.

He shook his head vigorously, his maniacal laughter subsiding as he raised his head and met his crazed expression in the mirror. His eyes had never looked this lost.

I’m losing my mind.

He pushed himself off the counter. His fingers cramped from how hard he’d been gripping it earlier.

His eyes landed on the perfume bottle once-more. Roses Vanille by Mancera. He was tempted to grab the bottle and throw it—maybe the sound of it breaking would be satisfying.

There wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t think of her.

His emotions always skewed from deep-rooted hatred to an insatiable ache when it came to her. It was always one or the other. Rarely a mix of both. It never got any less unnerving.

He picked up the perfume cap he’d thrown earlier and carefully screwed it back atop the bottle. He set the perfume back on the display.

Despite destroying most of her things in his rage several weeks ago, he’d told Marin to leave the rest of her unscathed stuff untouched.

He stared at himself in the mirror, schooling his emotions.

The one girl who outsmarted him, the only girl who could undo him so quickly.

Everyone thought he was doing better now, slowly coping with her loss—as if he could just become himself again and let her go. He’d answer calmly whenever she was brought up, never letting his facade crack, never letting his possessive thoughts show.

Enjoy yourself now, kitten. I’m never giving up on you.

Go on, keep thinking you got the last laugh. 

When I get my hands on you I’m gonna show you just how far I can go.

As if on cue, his phone on the counter rang. Once he saw the contact name the equivalent of a thousand shards of broken glass fusing themselves back together occurred in his mind. Everything sharpened as if his mind had been dunked in ice-water.

A despicable grin spread along his lips, “Hi James~ I’ve been waiting for your call.”

“Uh-yes. Mr. Gojo, I’ve found a match for whom you're looking for.”

Whom? Who says that? A low chuckle slipped out of him as he ran a hand over mouth, “Go on.”

“She’s located in Memphis, Tennessee. She’s going to the University of Memphis in the fall and moved early into her dorm yesterday.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m sending you her information now.”

“Please do.”

He ended the call and scrolled through the information James sent. He deftly read her attributes before his eyes landed on her most recent ID photo—her University ID card. It looked… too accurate. It was Ara’s face. His Ara’s face.

Except she had light brown hair, eye-glasses and was majoring in geology? Was that another interest she’d kept hidden to herself? 

He quickly called up his private jet’s operator. Once he heard the line pick-up he didn’t wait for him to speak, “Peter! Get ready.”

“Yes, sir. Where to?”

He loosened his tie before tossing it, “We’re goin’ to Memphis.”

The University of Memphis campus had quite a different vibe from all the colleges he’d toured. Of course, all the colleges he’d toured had been mainly Ivy leagues but the place piqued his interest nonetheless.

It was straightforward in its design. Brick buildings with white pillars. Blue tiger-print stripes everywhere to signify their mascot and school colors. Most buildings were walking distance from one another. It was nice.

He couldn’t help but wonder what could make Ara settle here of all places? Was it just because it was far away from him? Just so she could live on unrecognized? Or was there more to it?

He knew she didn’t have any family out here so that was out of the question.

He supposed he’d just have to ask her himself.

He sat on a bench near the university center, hands in his pockets. People watching. Students were already milling about. He could feel the anticipation in the air for school to start.

Suddenly his eyes skirted to a girl exiting the university center building, a few books clutched in her hand, tote bag over her shoulder. He briefly caught a glimpse of her face and recognized her. Penn Yves-her new identity. Ha.

Her hair covered her face as she bent down to search for something in her bag while walking. Had she seen him? It didn’t seem likely since she was still walking in his direction.

He got onto his feet and watched her slowly make her way towards him while shuffling through her bag.

Could she walk any slower?

Anticipation gathered in his veins with each step she took. His fingers aching with that familiar rush he hadn’t felt in so long.

He wanted to see her expression. He wanted to see her eyes dilate in fear?—yes, fear. It’d be back to how it was in their early days most likely. When she’d flinch against his touch and look at him with thinly veiled contempt. Or maybe she’d be so surprised she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. Would she pass out? Ha. That would be funny. Or would she—

Her forehead bumped into chest and she gasped as she stepped back. One of the books in her hand instantly falling to the ground.

Her face raised upto his and he froze.

They had the same skin tone and eye-shape, her lashes were a bit shorter but their lips were also similar. Full and pouty. But his Ara didn’t have any freckles on her cheeks nor was her nose as upturned as this girls.

She pushed her glasses up to her forehead when the sun glared in their reflection and he confirmed it. It wasn’t her.

The anticipation in his gut dulled into something more tumultuous, something dark.

She blinked up at him, seemingly taken aback as she spoke softly, “I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

That wasn’t her voice either.

He hid his callous expression by bending down to pick up her book. When he held it out to her he had a pleasant smile on his lips, “Don’t worry about it.”

She was still staring at him, an intrigue in her eyes that he’d seen plenty of times before. He was too in his head to find even a morsel of amusement from it.

She took the book from him, finally breaking eye-contact, “Do you go here?”

“No.”

Her brows drew together, “Oh.” The disappointment in her voice was evident.

That made him chuckle but it rang hollow. Everything felt hollow. He’d been foolish to think it would be that easy. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

Ara was a challenge in and of herself. James would need to do more than just a little homework to find her. If there was anything about Ara, she was thorough. Her escape had proven so.

If he’d known that his little fixation on her would lead him here would he do it all over again?

In a heartbeat.

It’d be easy to chat up this girl, take her out on a date then pretend that the girl before him was his new Ara. It would be so easy he wouldn’t even have to try.

But taking the easy way out was never his style, was it? He’d pick the thrill of the game every time—even if it consumed him in the end.

There was no settling. There was no quitting. There was just a challenge that he had to win.

Ara, when I find you just remember…you started this.

He reached out, touching a strand of her brown hair before speaking quietly, “Have a good semester.”

She watched her hair untwirl itself from his finger as he turned around.

Dublin, Ireland.

It’s been a while since he’d been here. The air always felt so crisp it was refreshing. The bakeries were spectacular too—especially alongside the River Liffey.

He crumpled up the wrapper of his strawberry pistachio tartlet from the Queen of Tarts—no sorry, il Valentino, the cafe rebranded apparently. Regardless, he’d devoured it in two bites. He regretted not getting a second.

He tossed the wrapper into a nearby trash can as he walked. It was his first time exploring the Dubh Linn gardens. It was rather gorgeous at sunset. 

He slipped his hands in his pockets as a chill breeze swept past. He took his time with each step until he spotted her.

From the back it looked just like her. From her height, her waist length hair down to the shape of her hips—it looked exactly like her. He just needed to see her face.

Her phone was raised to take a picture of the Dublin Castle. He couldn’t blame her, it looked rather magnificent in the dark. It was even more impressive on the inside. Memories of his mother’s friend's wedding flashed through his mind. He remembered making fun of the old age paintings on the walls.

That felt so long ago..

Suddenly she was walking again, her back still to him.

The urge to see her face suddenly pulsed through him. His pace picked up, as well as his heart rate.

He quickly caught up to her and grabbed her by the elbow, spinning her around. She turned with a gasp, instantly facing him.

Not her.

Her eyes were the same shape as hers, just slightly lighter in color. Her nose was the same but her lips were the subtlest bit smaller. Her brows were thicker as well.

The similarities were uncanny, but he knew this wasn’t his Ara.

“Who are you?” she asked slowly, a subtle Irish accent to her words.

He let go of her elbow, “Ah, sorry. You look like someone I know.”

She searched his face curiously, “You do too. Are you famous?”

He chuckled dryly, “Not really.”

She looked him up and down, “Do you model?”

“No.”

“You should.”

He gave her a halfhearted smile-trying to focus but his mind was elsewhere, “I’ll think about it.”

“Are you single?”

“No.” he answered-then frowned subtly. He answered almost too quickly, as if it were instinct.

She tilts her head, raising one brow, “You look confused.”

He scratched the back of his neck, “Heh, well.. we’re on a break.”

“Damn.” she bites her lower lip, seeming to contemplate something before saying, “I’ve been there.”

He shakes his head, “Is it supposed to be this rough?”

She smiles—it reminds him so much of Ara’s smile his heart began to ache. Ara was always so stingy with her smiles.

“Just be good and I’m sure she’ll take you back.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. It would take me forever to get a face like yours out of my head.”

He exhaled through his nose in humor, “I can’t get her out of my head.”

She hesitates before something seems to click in her eyes. “Do I… look like her?”

He nods.

She laughs, “So you thought I was her when you saw me?”

“..yeah.” he admits.

She laughs again, “Wow.”

Her hair rippled in the wind when a cool breeze passed. “She must be really pretty then.” she adds.

“She is.”

Her eyes twinkle with amusement, “So if I was her, what would you say?”

That was a great question, one that he hadn’t given much thought to just yet. He had a lot to say to her now that he was thinking about it—too much to say maybe, but it was impossible to tell the girl before him any of those things.

He’d save those words for the real deal.

Instead he tilted his head, “I’d tell her I’m taking her home tonight.”

She blushed, a light feminine giggle escaping her lips.

She shook her head, “Nice try.”

He raised his hands to express his innocence, “Wasn’t trying anything, I swear.”

Her eyes narrowed and once-again he was reminded so much of her.

His grin faded, “If I saw her, I really would be taking her home.”

“Mhmm.”

He chuckled.

She had a coy look in her eyes when she took a step back, “Well good luck, with her.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

“Don’t go flirting with her lookalikes either.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She started flirting first but it felt pointless to say. It didn’t even matter because despite all of their similarities and her little flirtatious ways he wasn’t hard-not even in the slightest. He hadn’t gotten hard with the first lookalike either.

She playfully rolled her eyes before turning away. He watched her walk until she left through the garden exit and disappeared onto the street. A cold feeling settling in his gut.

Ara, where are you?

Gojo snaps his fingers, catching Geto’s attention.

Geto glances over, annoyed, “What?”

Gojo’s eyes remained planted on the laptop in front of him as he speedily typed away. “Can you give me my phone?”

He looks over at the charger plugged into the outlet beside him. He reached over and took Gojo’s phone out. His phone flashed open to his lockscreen.

The picture is difficult to make out due to the dim lighting but with enough squinting he’s able to make out that the pic was taken from Gojo’s chin down. Ara is lying comfortably atop his shoulder with her arm sprawled over his chest. She looks fast-asleep but since the blanket just barely covers her waist he can see the outline of her bare breasts pressed against Gojo’s chest.

He reddened before a few text messages notifications began to pop-up on his phone. The contact name for the messages simply one pie emoji.

Geto’s brow furrow, “You got a text.”

Gojo’s eyes don’t leave his laptop, “From who.”

“From pie?”

Gojo immediately snatched the phone out of his hand. He watched Gojo quickly unlock it and stare at his phone with even more focus than the assignment he was working on seconds ago.

“Who’s pie?” Geto asked, confused.

Gojo doesn’t answer, clearly fixed on whatever ‘pie’ was texting him.

“Pie..” Geto muttered to himself as he mulled it over.

Gojo isn’t the type to make someone’s contact name without any significance so he finds himself trying to decode it.

He’s frowning as he glances at Gojo typing away on his phone. He looks completely engrossed. He’d only ever seen him like that when he was texting..

“Is that your private investigator?” he snaps as it clicks.

Private Investigator = PI = pie emoji

Gojo shuts his laptop and slips it in his bag. He swings his backpack over one shoulder as he stands.

“I gotta go.”

“Where?”

He pushes his chair back under their study desk, “To London.”

“What?”

He grins but it doesn’t reach his tired eyes.

“Don’t you have an exam in 20 minutes?”

He shrugs, “I’ll make it up.”

“What?! Satoru—wait!”

“Shhh!” A nearby librarian scolds.

Gojo’s already booked it towards the exit, hastily waving his hand in goodbye as he goes.

She’s shuffling through the books in her cart, completely confused.

Where is it? It was just here.

She bends down to the bottom rack of the cart, deftly reading each title to no avail.

“Where are you?” she mutters to herself.

“Looking for this?” An attractive male voice resounded behind her. There was an American accent to his words.

Her back grazed his chest as she stood. She immediately turned around and backed up.

“Oh-“ she stops mid-sentence at the sight of him. She was already flustered but this… this made her heart rate go staccato.

He was tall—maybe 6’4 or 6’5. His hair was platinum but it didn’t look dyed at all, his light colored lashes proved so. It worked well with his even, pale skin and high cheekbones. But what was even more staggering was the color of his eyes.

They were the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. It was almost alien how spellbinding they were.

But it wasn’t just her that was staring, he was staring too. He was searching her face in a way that didn’t seem sensual. There was a precision to his gaze—rather calculative, like he was studying her.

Then suddenly his gaze closed, all the curiosity coming to a quick abrupt end.

She blinked, taking another step back only to bump into her cart. Crap.

The corner of his lip curled subtly, “Aren’t you at least gonna take a look?”

She glanced down to see a book in his hands—exactly the book she was looking for.

She took it from him, “Thanks.”

She quickly moved further down the shelves to gain some distance from him. It was hard for her to function around pretty people—especially to the degree that he was at. It was already hard being bi and working in a bookstore-pretty girls were everywhere-and now this?

Bah! Get him out of here.

“Sorry I took it from your cart. It looked like an interesting read.”

She found the place in the shelf where the book belonged and shelved it.

“Yeah?” she responded noncommittally.

“Yeah.” he leaned against the bookshelf, crossing his arms as he glanced around, “This is a nice bookstore.”

“It is.” she muttered, avoiding eye-contact at all times as she grabbed another book and climbed the mini-ladder.

“Nerine.” he said slowly, “That’s a flower right?”

She turned around, immediately about to ask him how he knew her name until she remembered she had a name tag on. Please use your brain, Nerine.

But it was odd, not many people knew Nerine was a flower.

She eyed him warily as he ran his thumb over the sides of the pages of a book in his hand. He seemed somewhat entertained by how fast the pages flipped open at the action. That was also another book from her cart.

“That’s a new book.” she spoke more clipped than she intended.

He glanced up, eyes wide, “Oh, sorry. That’ll mess up the pages right?”

Not really. She was just being anal because she liked to treat her books with care but—she pressed her lips together before releasing a short breath.

“Never mind.”

He blinked. He looked like he was near her age. She doubted he was older than eighteen or nineteen.

Since he wasn’t leaving she decided to utilize him, “Can you give me that?” she pointed at another book on the cart.

“Sure!” he instantly set down his book and reached for the one she pointed at.

Suddenly she got the urge to mess with him. She wasn’t sure where it came from-maybe it was because he was so pretty that it was annoying but whatever.

Just as he picked the book up, she said, “Not that one.”

“Oh.” he pointed to the one behind it, “That one?”

“Nope.”

He pointed to the one after that, “This one?”

“Nope.”

He pointed at the book on the opposite end, “This one?”

“Yeah.”

He picked up the book and immediately seemed to notice that it had the same title as the first book he’d picked up. It was just another copy.

He handed it to her with a little smile, “Are you messing with me?”

“Nope.” she answered flatly as she snatched the book from him.

She wanted to laugh at the confusion on his face but it was then that she realized.. he had dark circles underneath his eyes. They were a dull light purplish shade that contrasted quite a bit with his pale skin. She was surprised she didn’t notice it earlier. Boy definitely needs some sleep.

“Do you like working here?” he asked randomly.

Does he really not have anyone else to talk to?

“Yeah.” she answered dryly.

“You probably read a lot, right?”

A lot would be an understatement.

He followed her down the aisle as she pushed her cart, “There’s this book I’m tryna find but I forgot the title-“

“Do you remember the author?”

“No but.. can I tell you what happens in the story and maybe you can help me find it?”

Odd request but “Sure.”

She might actually be able to help him find it with the amount of books she’d read. No genre was a stranger to her—except maybe self-help books. She wasn’t mature enough for that yet. Regardless, with his face she doubted he was reading anything too complicated. If it was a trendy book it’d be easy enough to find.

“So it’s about this girl that gets approached by one of her classmates, she doesn’t really like him that much in the beginning-dunno why-but they stop talking for a bit only for her to go to a party and they end up hooking up.”

This guy is reading a romance? She shoots him a curious glance before continuing to shelf her books.

“Then basically they start hooking up every day after that. She can’t really leave the house much so they mostly hang out at her house and school but sometime later he ends up finding out that her dad is abusive.”

He pauses, “And-erm-he kinda does something about it.”

She raises a brow, facing him, “Like?”

He smiles a bit awkwardly, “He nearly kills her Dad… in front of her.”

Damn! A dark romance? This guy is full of plot twists.

There must be something showing on her face because suddenly he scrambles to say, “But he makes up for it by getting her Dad to a hospital right away, covering the bill and all.”

“Does the Dad know they’re dating?” she asks.

“No but that’s cuz she hid their relationship from him. He’s strict so he doesn’t allow her to date or to go out or-anything really.” he huffed.

“So what happened next?”

“So..” he squints as if trying to remember, “So yeah, she breaks up with him—even though he was only trying to protect her but she’s still mad so.. they end up not talking for two months. Her dad heals up and they get back home from the hospital only for the same shit to happen again.”

She glances up at him again to see a tension defining his jaw that wasn’t there before. He catches her gaze, “Her Dad hits her again.”

“Damn.”

“It was really bad,” he mutters, staring off as if recounting it, “Her body was completely busted up.”

She watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallows, “Anyway, she goes back to her ex cuz she doesn’t want to live with her Dad anymore. He lets her stay and they end up getting back together and doing a whole bunch of cute shit—even confessing their love. Well, the guy been told her he loved her but it took her a while to say it back, but she did end up saying back.“

She glances at him leaning forward in his seat. It seems he found a stool that was supposed to be used for people too short to reach the top shelves. Regardless, she can’t help but feel the stool looks too tiny for him.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Everything is all fine and dandy until graduation rolls around-“ he then quickly adds, “They’re seniors in high school by the way.”

He gnaws on his bottom lip, “And so on their high school graduation she goes missing.”

“Really?” she asks, shocked.

“For real.”

“Did her Dad kidnap her or something?”

His brows furrow, “Nah, not her Dad but listen-after she goes missing, a few things come out. During their relationship her boyfriend would gift her a lot of things and it turns out before she went missing she sold some of the gifts and raked up a couple million-“

“A couple million?” she questions, completely flabbergasted, “How?”

He pauses, his mouth partially open while he squints-as if unsure why that would be hard to grasp until he realizes, “Oh, her boyfriend’s rich so her gifts weren’t cheap. Birkins, Van cleef, you get it. Anywa-“

“Let me guess, he’s a millionaire.” she rolls her eyes.

He blinks, “Billionaire actually.”

“I hate dark romance books sometimes.” she shakes her head, “Go on.”

“So yeah, now the police concluded that she ran off with the money and disappeared without a trace.”

She watches him lean back in his seat and clasp his hands together in front of himself. He looks at her expectantly.

“Where did she go?” she asks.

He shrugged, “Nobody knows, but more importantly—why would she do that?”

“Do what?”

“Up and leave like that.”

“I..” her brows furrow, “I don’t know. You read the bloody book, not me.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl. Why would a girl do that? Why would she leave everything behind?”

Her mind raced with possibilities as she mulled it over, “I don’t know.. it could be lots of things. She could’ve been unhappy-“

“But why would she be unhappy? She had her man right there, why didn’t she just tell him?”

“Well maybe she didn’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Maybe she didn’t like him either.”

“But she did though, she did. She said she loved him.”

“People can say anything.”

He looked exhausted, “I know that but like—“ he pauses, as if seriously contemplating something, “She loves him. He knows it.”

She’s a bit taken aback by the intensity in his gaze but responds anyway, “But does she love him if she sold all his gifts for money?”

He looks at her knowingly, as if he’s already considered this but seems to await the rest of her answer anyway.

She stuffed another book onto the shelf, “Clearly something is bothering her. Generally speaking, girls don’t usually make drastic decisions like that without considering everything involved. She obviously knew what she was doing and who she was hurting in the process.”

He silently considers this for a moment before speaking tentatively, “So.. what do you think of her?”

“Well, she’s wrong for doing her boyfriend like that. He technically did nothing wrong but she used him anyway.”

She shakes her head, “But honestly that’s what makes the least sense in the story, if she really loved him-like your so insistent on-she wouldn’t do that unless she had to.”

“Why would she ever have to?”

“Maybe there was some private family drama she didn't want him to know?” she answers unsurely.

“Her Dad’s her only family.”

“Maybe she has a secret health condition?”

“They lived together for 6 months. He would know if she had a disease.”

She threw her hands up, “Then it’s probably some plot twist! I don’t know.”

He watched her frustration, amused, before continuing to press, “And what do you think would be a good plot twist?”

“If she was a spy that would be hot.”

He laughed.

She shelved another book, “But since it’s a dark romance, they usually keep the plot somewhat linear... I’d say her boyfriend isn't as innocent as he seems. You did say that she didn’t like him in the beginning right?”

“I did.”

“Was it like an enemies to lovers situation?”

“Enemies to lovers?” he questioned, before letting out a short laugh, “Kinda, I suppose.”

She nods, “He also does have a violent streak to almost kill her Dad. What-did he try to shoot him?”

“No, he beat the shit outta him.”

“So a few punches?”

“Pft, no. Damn near broke his jaw, his nose, cracked his skull. Dude almost became a cripple.” An airy chuckle left him, “If she didn’t stop him in time he woulda gouged her Dad’s eyes out with his thumbs.” 

“Jesus.” she muttered, “That’s not normal.”

“He was defending her.”

“Yeah but to do all that with your bare hands? It’s giving anger issues.”

He blinked before quickly rebutting, “But if he didn’t jump in, her Dad would’ve hurt her.”

“Okay fine so he’s protective then.”

“Of course.”

“Maybe even overprotective?”

He looked at her intently for a moment before replying, “Maybe..”

She raised a brow, “What do you mean maybe? Was he or was he not?”

He appears resigned, “Yeah.”

She nodded once again, “Maybe that’s it. Maybe it was suffocating for her—maybe he was even violent towards her but she didn’t know what to do because she’s used to violence at home.”

His voice was crisp, “He would never hurt her.”

She shrugged, “He must’ve done something or else I can’t see why she’d leave her billionaire boyfriend alone. She’d be set for life-no, generations with that.”

She snapped her fingers, “She left for revenge. That would be a good plot twist.”

He raises a brow as if intrigued. A smirk seems to play at the end of his lips, “Revenge..” he says the word as if he were tasting it, “How so?”

“She’s getting revenge on all the overbearing men in her life. She left her Dad’s house, which is revenge in itself cuz that’s like a strict parents nightmare. Then she left her overprotective boyfriend, breaking his heart. Now she gets to live on being the cunt that she is.”

“Cunt?” he questions.

She smiles, “It’s a compliment.”

“So you support her then?”

“I support women’s rights and wrongs.” She freezes abruptly before looking at him with a frown, “Hold on, why are you pestering me about all of this? Don't you know why already? You read the book.”

“I left off at the part where she went missing.”

She stands, dusting off her pants as she realizes she completed shelving her cart during the time he took to explain that ‘story’.

“So you decide to fry my brain for theories about the plot?”

He smiles-rather brightly, “Basically.”

He stands up from the stool, “Thank you for the conversation. It was fun.”

“Fun?”

He nods.

She looks at him skeptically, “Well thanks for keeping me entertained while I cleared my cart.”

“Anytime.” he gives her a brief once-over before tilting his head as if realizing something.

“What?”

A slight chuckle escapes him, “I just realized you kinda look like her. The girl from the story.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, same hair and all.”

She’s not quite sure how to respond, “Hm, what a coincidence.”

“Right?”

Revenge.

He chews on the word, as if it’s a bitter candy that he despises the flavor of yet can’t seem to spit out.

It bothers him. It’s been bothering him ever since that girl brought it up.

The Ara he knows is more honest than that though, more straight-laced. She’s the type to think more out of necessity versus revenge.

But then again could he trust his judgment on her anymore? After she managed to manipulate him the way she did?

But was it really manipulation if he knew? He knew she wasn’t comfortable when she first stepped onto his doorstep, when she first slept in his bed. But he watched her, he watched her spread her wings and bloom.

He watched her accept his love and he saw her start to want it. He saw her need it in the way he did.

Which was all he ever wanted. The only fault in his plan was that she got away.

But then there was that stupid word, revenge.

The word that tempted his bleak anger, the roiling waves of betrayal deep in his soul. The word that triggered the voices in the back of his mind to remind him that she wanted him to suffer, wanted him to hurt.

It bothered him because if that was her goal, it was working. He was restless, constantly agitated and barely interested in anything anymore. Everything felt mechanical.

His temper was starting to run less hot—it started to feel cold. Like ice churning in his gut with every memory of her that crossed his mind. He felt it like a thin layer of snow settling on his skin, slowly accumulating overtime.

Is this what you want, Ara?

He tilted his chin up, facing the sky. It felt so close from this vantage point.

Everywhere he looked there was only the sky. The sun setting in the distance painted the vast canvas a multitude of colors. yellow, pale pink, orange, and yet they were all chased away by the indigo blue of night closing in like a veil gliding above the clouds.

A frigid current of air swiftly passed along his face, making his hair flip in the wind and his dress-shirt collar flutter against his neck. It was as if the night sky’s gravitational pull could be felt by him too.

He watched the yellow of the sun disappear, hiding to let noisy LA get bathed in darkness.

It was in darkness after all, where the city thrived the most.

His eyes jolted open when he heard a loud noise. It came from the garage, he was certain of it.

He grunted as he sat up on his bed. He rubbed his head while reaching over to grab his phone from the nightstand with the other. It was 2:05 am.

“Huh?” he exclaimed in confusion when he saw that all his house cameras were disabled. He hadn’t turned any of them off.

He refreshed his app and the results were the same. The cameras were ‘disconnected’.

Suddenly he heard a sound come from downstairs. He instantly shifted in his place on the bed, facing the hallway.

He swore he saw a shadow pass by. It was incredibly fast. He almost questioned if it was a hallucination.

He grabbed his cane and stood up. He’d developed a permanent limp after his altercation with the robber or whatever shit story Ara had told him had happened that night.

He pulled out his gun from his nightstand and limped over. Had that shitty robber decided to come back? He’d have a real nice surprise this time.

He held up the gun with a shaky hand as he entered the hallway.

“EYYY! Who the hell is in my house?” he bellowed, loud enough to echo in the entirety of the house.

He glanced around the hallway, it was empty but it was dark so his eyes couldn’t help but linger on the darker shadows at the ends of the hall.

Suddenly he heard the sound of something fall—in Ara’s room. His eyes widened.

He didn’t think, he lowered his gun and limped over.

He hadn’t entered her room in months but he didn’t hesitate to swing her door open now.

“Ara?” he questioned, his heart swelling with hope—only to feel something harder than steel slam into the side of his head.

previous chapter I next chapter

[b-blushes]

i <3 planners/journals/scrapbooks

[itsalwaysdark]

bedtime nowww probably ummm today qas not what i wanted it 2 be but its fine. i dont feel negative just a very very very numb day which is almost worse. but only almost 🙏

[wilted]

once upon a time there was this thing called netflix and it was this neat little service that you would look at online and it would allow you to rent dvds any time u wanted for like 5 bucks a month and would ship them to ur house for your entire family to enjoy

[yongseungkim]

.

[nereidprinc3ss]

fixation

in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.

18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D

Spencer is reading. 

He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway. 

Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...

And... that's enough.

Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior. 

“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg. 

“Hi.”

For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm.”

His brow darts up. 

“With what, baby?”

Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy. 

Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly. 

“Um…”

Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—

You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp. 

It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out. 

“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout. 

“I was.”

Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”

“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He  cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin. 

“Don’t make it about me.”

You allow a minute to pass in silence. 

Fine.

“I liked it,” you say shyly. 

Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”

Like he couldn’t tell. 

“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”

His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you. 

“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”

You make a face. “Shut up.”

“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”

“Is that the saying?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”

“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”

Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck. 

“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”

His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”

It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”

“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”

“It was mean.”

“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’ll let me do it again?”

Spencer pulls you back into another kiss. 

“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?” 

When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly. 

“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”

You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward. 

“You’re so nice, Spence.”

“I thought I was mean.” 

“Now you’re nice.”

“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again. 

[storusangel]

STUDY SESSIONS

a/n: ohhhh my god, i finally finished this. it's been half finished for months but i did it!! hope you guys enjoy!

cw: fem!reader, dom!satosugu, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweet girl), slight petplay (like if you squint really hard), fingering, manhandling, double vag pen., biting, squirting, creampie, oral f!receiving, overstim, aftercare, MINORS DNI

word count: 4.5k

satoru and suguru are the stars of your university.

they have it all — the looks, the grades, the girls (and guys). and in your shared BIO 141 class, better known as your human anatomy and physiology class, they’re known for being top of the class, never having failed an exam. you, however, have been falling behind in that said class. 

but it truly isn’t your fault. you can’t help that the two men sit at a perfect angle for you to gawk and stare at them for the entirety of class. yeah, it’s not your fault at all! in fact, it’s your stupid professor’s fault for placing the two pieces of eye candy directly in your line of view!

it’s tuesday again and your professor is rambling on about the limbic system or something of the sort. you don’t really comprehend what he’s saying because it seems the two pieces of eye candy have gotten matching tattoos. a dark betta fish on suguru’s right bicep and a lighter one on satoru’s left. 

you can’t help but let your mind wander to how those arms would look holding you up as they’re pounding into you. dirty words being whispered into your ear as you try your best to keep up with them. “such a good slut for u-“

your name being called out by your professor yanks you out of your trance. you blink twice, ripping your eyes of the two boys but not before they could catch you staring at them. 

“i asked you a question.”

“s-sorry professor” you wince at how silly you sound stuttering after being caught daydreaming in class.

your professor just sighs and instead of repeating his question, he tells you to stay after class to meet with him. you can feel the eyes of your classmates boring into you, the immature snickers make you want to go back to your dorm and stay there forever.

or better yet, go to satoru and suguru’s shared apartment and let them fuck the embarrassment away.

you shake your head in an attempt to refocus your attention. before you can tune in to what your professor has to say, you see satoru and suguru steal a quick glance at you and whisper to each other. 

“gojo and geto, i’d like you two after class as well”  

once more, the class erupts into whispering to their nearest friend before the professor regains their attention once and for all. you also stop your mind from wandering too far into your daydreams about what could happen after class and return your attention back to the professor who was clearly irritated. 

in an effort to save yourself from embarrassment, you head down to see your professor as soon as class ends to end the conversation before the two boys can tune in. 

“i assume you understand why i wanted to see you?” his voice is sharp, an underlying tone of dissatisfaction.

“yes sir, i know my grade in your class need some work but i will do my best to bring it up” 

his reply is quick. “i know you will because gojo and geto will be tutoring you.”

you truly don’t know how to feel. getting the chance to be around your crushes is both amazing and horrible. thinking about how they definitely know you’ve been staring at them every class makes you feel nauseous. thinking about being perceived isn’t your favorite thing, but thinking about how they’ll be around you, teaching you the course that you’ve completely missed out on due to your very vivid daydreams. 

“wait, what?” god, satoru’s voice sounded much sexier when it was right behind you. 

“you heard me. both of you will be helping her understand her classwork until the end of the semester.” and your professor's voice sounded much scarier when it was in right front of you. “i’ll know if you two have truly put enough effort in when i see her grade on our next exam.”

you’re too ashamed to make eye contact with the two boys, a wave of embarrassment flooding your face knowing that your two crushes now know your biggest academic insecurity. the room is silent until suguru speaks up, “okay, we’ll need your number though” yeah, suguru’s voice was just as sexy as satoru’s. 

you hear your name being called. you finally make eye contact. “sorry, what?” your voice is meek, smaller than you remember it to be. satoru laughs, “your number, sweetheart. so we can set a date for our sessions. you know, the tutoring ones?” satoru calling you sweetheart makes you want to implode, he has to know what he does to you. what they do to you. 

“oh, here” you leave as soon as you give them your number. suguru’s “we’ll text about planning later” giving you the greenlight to get the hell out of there before you somehow manage to embarrass yourself even further.

-

xxx-xxx-xxxx added you and xxx-xxx-xxxx into a chat

unknown: you free this weekend?

you: who is this???

unknown: aw man :( all that staring in class and you can’t even remember who we are, we’re hurt baby

- 

you stare at the message. okay. so you know who it is. and you also know that they know your grades are horrible because you’ve spent almost every class openly drooling over them. no big deal. it’s not like your sessions will be in a private area.

-

unknown: satoru and i talked, we think it’ll be best to tutor you at our place since there’ll be less distractions there.

-

okay then. you’ll just have to work on your nerves before this weekend. you have time. right now you’ll be using that time to try and get over the fact that satoru called you baby.

the next few days pass by a little too slow for your liking but soon you’re getting ready for your date with the two boys. wait, tutoring session with the two boys. you couldn’t help but dress up a little, adding a matching set underneath your skirt and blouse.

-

satoru: i’m outside, come out whenever you’re ready

you: coming out now! which car is yours?

satoru: you’ll know it when you see it ;)

-

you head out slightly confused but when you see a white corvette flashing its blinkers at you, you understand what satoru meant. before you reach his car, satoru gets out to open the door for you. the small giggle you let out doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

a wave of confidence runs through your veins as you tell him he’s “quite the gentlemen” when he buckles your seatbelt for you before sitting in the driver's seat himself. his response is a quick wink and then you two are off to their apartment. you try not to stare too hard at him throughout the ride but you can’t help but let yourself indulge in a few glances that lasted longer than they should’ve.

soon enough you two have reached the apartment and satoru parks the car. this time you don’t hide your staring. his effortless moves have you squeezing your thighs together. why is this turning you on??? you have got to be ovulating. 

satoru calls out your name. “you ready?” you blink. “o-oh, yeah i’m ready.” he grins and unbuckles you before sliding out the car to open your door. their apartment is cleaner than you expected, and also way larger than you expected it to be. “you finally back satoru?” you turn around to see suguru in sweatpants and stark contrast to satoru’s shorts. “hi, thanks again for tutoring me” you say. they both let out a soft chuckle and suguru returns the greeting.

they show you to a room that you truly didn’t expect for them to have in their place. there’s a shelf stacked with different books and another bigger one beside it with their trophies. there are two desks but one of them is currently situated with three chairs. you’re deep in thought about how you would love to be bent over the desks as the two boys make you take them over and over and over again.

this time it’s suguru calling your name to draw you out of your daydream. “you can take a seat on the middle chair. do you have anything in specific that you need help understanding?” oh right, you came here to be tutored. “um, everything? well not like everything but maybe the latest subject? i haven’t had the time to actually go over the notes i took.” 

a lie, you didn’t take any notes. your notebook is filled with small doodles and occasionally a sentence from a slide the professor left on the screen for too long. you place your hands in your lap when the two boys take a seat on either side of you. “no need to be nervous, sweetheart. we’re here to help you.” satoru has got to know that him and his stupidly attractive voice aren’t helping you and you want to turn to suguru for help but he’s just as bad. “he’s right, pretty girl. you’ve got to relax, you won’t be able to remember anything when you’re shaking like that.”

to make it even worse, they each place a hand on your bare thighs. satoru rubs his soft fingers up and down while suguru squeezes your thigh gently before using a thumb to make circular motions in a single spot. you can feel your body heating up and it takes everything in you to not squeeze your thighs together because it would make your want need for them way too obvious and quite frankly, you’re still embarrassed they caught you staring.

satoru makes eye contact with suguru, a silent communication between the two of them. he gives your thigh a gentle pat before he starts to speak. “do you work better with rewards, baby?” you turn to look at him. you aren’t sure what he means exactly and you’re feeling a little overstimulated by all the touching, the pet names, and their attention in general. you’re by no means a virgin, though you aren’t too far from it, but for some reason they make you so nervous you can’t think straight. 

suguru says your name in a voice that sounds like it’s reserved for scolding puppies but right now it just turns you on even more than you are. “answer satoru, he’s not big on being ignored” apparently you don’t turn your head fast enough because satoru’s hand moves from your thigh to grasp your face gently, but not too gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “he’s right, baby. i don’t want to be rough with you just yet. i’m gonna ask again and i expect an answer. would you like us to give you rewards?” despite his words being slightly threatening, you bite your lip to hold back a whine. you squeak out a “yes please” and return to suppressing your whines because suguru still has moved his hand further up your skirt, his fingers grazing dangerously close to your soaked slit. 

“good girl. now let's get started” satoru removes his hand from your jaw but suguru only moves his hand back down to your lower thigh, giving you one more squeeze. the tutoring session goes something like this; suguru and satoru take turns explaining different topics covered during your last class. once they’re done, satoru quizzes you. everytime you answer correctly, suguru moves his hand up and satoru praises you. but every time you fail to answer a question correctly or fast enough, suguru slips his hand away and satoru reminds you that “only smart girls get rewards”. 

this method seems to work because you’re starting to answer correctly more often until you’re only answering correctly and suguru’s fingers are grazing your panties. “oh, she’s soaked, satoru. i think this sweet thing deserves a bigger reward. she’s been listening so well” a small whimper leaves your lips and you turn your head to satoru, your eyes begging for something more than some light touches accompanied by a few praises. 

to prove his point even further you really do start to beg. “please satoru, i need it so bad. ‘ve been so good, please” you can tell it works because he immediately coos at you. “d’awh, i think she deserves a reward too, suguru. we should give it to her” and with that satoru leans in, pressing his lips into yours. his soft, pillowy lips against yours make you almost forget suguru’s hands are on your panties.

almost. 

suguru pulls your panties to the side, raking his middle and ring finger through your folds, collecting your slick. he traces them downwards before bringing them back up to circle around your clit once, twice, three times and then he repeats the process. once he’s deemed his fingers wet enough, he slips one in pumping and curling wasting no time before adding in a second one. 

kissing down your neck, satoru rips your blouse open and pushes your bra down. lithe fingers trace around your nipple making you arch into satoru. you let out a breathy moan into satoru’s mouth, followed by more whines when suguru adds a third finger and starts to scissor them to stretch you out. you can feel satoru smirk against your lips when you start to struggle to kiss back. 

satoru removes his mouth from you, drinking in the sight of you. the sweet, shy girl in their class who couldn’t help but keep her eyes off of the two boys. the same girl who struggled to keep eye contact and who was barely vocal when they were present is now writhing in their chair. your back arching into satoru, a silent plea for him to keep touching you. and your hips grinding on suguru’s fingers, begging him to keep going. 

and most importantly, your voice has finally found itself to be heard. your pleas of “can’t, ‘s too much” and “wan’ more, please don’t stop, please” echo throughout the room. satoru takes two of his own fingers and pats them on your lips, a signal for you to open your mouth. you comply, wishing they would keep praising you. as if he can hear your thoughts, satoru mutters a “atta girl” when he slips his fingers into your mouth. 

he lets them hit the back of your throat a few times and when you gag, he pulls them back. not entirely, but just enough so that you’re still drooling on them but aren’t entirely gagging. he moves his fingers in a scissoring motion for some time and then he pulls them out. before you can even think about missing his fingers in your mouth, he moves them down to your clit, rubbing calculated circles. 

suguru moves his fingers faster, curling them upwards till they hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “i think our sweet girls about to cum, satoru” suguru breaks the silence between him and satoru. “i think so too” you can’t tell if it’s the way they’re talking about you as if you weren’t there but you cum the second the two speak, your body shaking as they help you ride it out. suguru shallowly pumping his fingers in while satoru slows his circles on your clit. suguru leans in to give you a kiss, his lips doing most of the work as your body recovers from your mindblowing orgasm. 

you yelp into suguru’s mouth when satoru pats your clit a little too hard. you want to say something but he taps your clit one more time before watching more slick dribble out of your cunt and onto the chair. suguru is the first to speak. his lips trail towards your ear leaving soft kisses in each place he covers. “you did so well for us, sweetheart. how’re you feeling?” as he speaks, satoru wipes the tears from your eyes and rubs comforting circles on your cheek.

your heart throbs at the attention. you understand what suguru is asking; are you still up for more? or are you done for the time being? you bite your lip before you speak.

“m-more, please. want more. want both of you. please.” satoru places a gentle kiss on your lips. “you’re so good for us, baby. a perfect listener. you think you can take us both? you think your tight little hole can fit both of us?” you moan out loud at his words.

“i don’t know, satoru. she might not be able to handle us.” suguru’s teasing you and you know it, but you don’t care. the thought of them leaving you so wet and needy for them may have your cunt clenching on nothing but you think you might die if you don’t feel them stretching you out.

“nonono, please. please don’t. need it so bad. need you two so bad. wan’ your cocks in me, now. don’t care if it hurts” you think you might’ve broken them because now it’s them who can’t wait till you're done speaking. 

suguru stands up, dragging you up with him before he rips your panties off in one go. satoru, now standing behind you, is pushing your skirt as far up as it can go before pulling his dick out of his pants. suguru following his lead. 

they each keep one hand on a hip, keeping you upright. you feel satoru slip his dick between your folds from behind you, coating himself in your slick before pushing the tip into you. “oh, fuck. satoru, you’re so big” you hear suguru groan from in front of you. he’s using the same hand he fingered you with to stroke himself, waiting for you to adjust to satoru. 

satoru slowly pushes all the way in, stopping every inch or so when you let out a whine of discomfort. “breathe, baby. breathe” satoru may think he’s helping but his velvety voice in your ear is only turning you on more. your pussy doing anything but loosening up. after some time, you slowly grind your hips back onto him, letting him know you’re ready for him to move.

he starts with shallow thrusts and soon he’s going all the way back out before slamming his hips forward. your body shakes in their arms. you’re sure if they let go, you’d fall onto the floor. satoru’s pace doesn’t stay that way forever, though. you cry out a “s’toru, mo-move please” when you feel him slow his thrusts until he comes to a complete stop. 

“shhh, baby. suguru needs to feel you too, doesn’t he?” your eyes widen. you recall your words from earlier, you still want them more than anything but a feeling of uncertainty hits you. as if they can feel your unease, satoru nuzzles his nose into your neck while suguru rubs comforting circles into your hip. suguru gives you a kiss, wet and open mouthed. “you’ve been so good for us, yeah? we’ll take care of you” suguru whispers in your ear. his voice makes you clench harder around satoru.

you know satoru felt it because his mouth hasn’t left your neck and you can feel a grin spreading on his face. “we’ll go slow for you, sweetheart. you don’t need to do anything but be good for us. you can do that, right baby?” they wait for your response. though they’re both aching to be inside of you, they want to make sure you feel the same.

the room is silent when you speak. “p-please, wanna’ be your good girl” and they’re off. satoru stays still inside of you, instead moving one arm to wrap around your waist and his other hand to spread your pussy for suguru. “you gotta relax, sweet girl. there’s no way suguru’s gonna fit when you’re clenching down on me like that” suguru chuckles at the other man's words before he starts to squeeze his way in. satoru moves the fingers that were spreading you open to your clit, rubbing circles as suguru continues to push himself inside of you. 

your whines only get louder when they’re both finally inside of you. suguru is the first to speak. “you look so pretty like this. all stretched out on our dicks. i think we should keep her satoru.” satoru hums in agreement. “i think we should too. it’d be so nice to come home to her waiting so patiently for us to fuck her, take care of her” he lowers his voice adding a “and to love her” before you can process his words, satoru pulls all the way out and all the way back in. you let out a borderline pornographic moan and you feel them both twitch at the sound. 

“p-please move” you sniffle. and move they do. when suguru pulls out, satoru pushes in. and when satoru pulls out, suguru pushes in. the room filled with your whines and cries of “‘s too much”, “can’t take it”, and “wan’ more”. they do their best to give you everything you need. satoru uses a hand coated with your slick to make you face him so he can smash his lips against yours. 

he’s rough with his kiss. shoving his tongue down your throat, making you suck on it and pulling it out just so he can nibble on your lips. suguru, on the other hand, has made himself busy with your neck. he leaves bite marks wherever he can, kissing the same area he bit softly as if he was soothing the pain. “ha-harder”

satoru breaks the kiss with a groan. “our girl is so greedy, suguru. should we give her what she wants? i’m not sure i heard a please” suguru, still busy with your neck, grunts softly in feigned disappointment. “i thought we had trained her better than that. maybe we shouldn’t give it to her” you shake your head at their words “no! n-no please. i’m sor-ry, i’ll be good. don’ stop, please”

this seems to satisfy them because they listen. and they listen well. they not only move harder, but somehow deeper too. suguru has one of your legs lifted in the air while satoru keeps you steady at your waist. your moans get louder and louder, a warning that you’re getting close. you know satoru and suguru are aware but you know better than to cum without asking. 

“c-can i? please ‘ve been so good, wanna cum s-so bad” you’re practically sobbing and they can feel themselves throbbing around you. satoru kisses your cheek and says something along the lines of “you can cum, baby” but you aren’t listening because suguru bit that spot on your neck and satoru hit that spot in your cunt and you’re seeing stars when you squirt on them. 

they only get in a few more thrusts before they fill you up with their cum. “holy shit” satoru chuckles “didn’t know you were a squirter, baby” you whine out in embarrassment, wanting to hide your face in your hands but you feel too tired to do anything.  

you whimper when suguru pulls out, followed by satoru. the feeling of being empty being foreign after being stuffed so full. suguru carefully places your leg down, making sure satoru is still holding you up. you’re not sure what he has planned because he has that stupid grin on his face that he and satoru share when they’re about to do something devious. 

when around forty seconds have passed and the only thing that’s happened is satoru leaving wet kisses along your back, you think you’re in the clear but your legs being moved. each one gently placed on the shoulder of a very handsome suguru who is currently on his knees between your legs. you want to protest, tell them you’re still recovering from the last orgasm but suguru presses a kiss to your clit. 

the constant stimulation has your clit protruding out, begging for attention, so how could he not kiss it some more? the sounds from between your legs are no less than obscene. suguru is groaning into your cunt. he kisses, sucks, bites, and you would be a fucking liar to say that it doesn’t feel as good as it hurts. “you have the sweetest pussy, pretty” he moans out between kisses “tastes so good”

satoru thinks he’s going to go insane. he would much rather be between your legs but he knows there’ll be more chances for him to do so in the future. for now, he’ll focus on pressing those kisses you seem to love on your back and neck while using one hand to show each of your tits equal amounts of attention. and also whispering dirty words into your ear that only shove you closer and closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. 

“does suguru’s tongue feel good, baby? you like being used by us? you wanna come all over his face like a good girl?” you do. you want to be nothing but the best for them. you wish they would never stop praising you. “y-yes, fuck, wanna be your good girl. wan’ to cum so bad, please can i?” you know nothing of pride, you only know suguru and satoru are making you feel so good that you can barely remember your own name.

it’s only when suguru says your name in that rough voice of his before telling you to come that you remember. you cum hard on his face, his mouth never stopping but only slowing down and moving to place gentle kisses on your clit. “you did so well for us, sweetheart” satoru moves his hands up and down your sides to sooth your trembling body. when suguru leaves to grab a washcloth to clean you up, satoru is still whispering comforting praises into your ear. he backs up to sit himself in a chair and tugs you into his lap. “shhh, it’s okay, baby. i got you”

suguru returns with a wet washcloth. “can you open up for me, pretty? jus’ gonna clean you, nothing else” satoru knows your body is capable of moving just yet so he takes your whine as the okay for him to spread you open for his friend. once suguru’s done, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

suguru dresses you in one of his oversized shirts before satoru takes you to his bed. they let you sleep while they clean themselves up before joining you in bed as well. you wake up later that night to two sleeping boys and an ache between your legs. they each are touching you in their own ways, suguru nuzzled into your neck and satoru’s hand wrapped possessively around your waist. you find yourself drifting back into sleep and the next time you wake up, there’s a note on the bedside table.

“we stepped out for a bit but we’ll be back soon with breakfast, baby ;)” 

-

tuesday comes by again once more and this time you’re the only one staying behind. the past three days have been spent “studying” at suguru and satoru’s place and you’re finally ready to hear about your test results from your professor. when he returns your paper, you know there’s only one thing to do.

you text the two boys a picture of your grade on your exam making sure the big 98% written on top of a “nice work!” is clearly shown.

-you: i think i deserve a reward

©storusangel. any and all forms of modifications, reposts, and translation of my work are prohibited.

[seraphdreams]

JJK MEN AS YOUR PERSONAL TRAINER. | TOJI FUSHIGURO, GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, SUGURU GETO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. having private sessions with the men prove to be an experience. what type of trainer are each of them?

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, edging, degradation, praise, dry humping, fellatio, switch!choso, overstimulation, emo boy!choso, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, they are all whores. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.1k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! oh em gee ?? headcanon format ? yup! i originally wrote this as a little joke since i started pilates but then my mind wandered and it wasn’t a joke anymore. other than that, ino was supposed to be on the list but he couldn’t make it :( something about being busy .. regardless, comment / reblog if u like ! it would make my day, thank u ♡

TOJI — THE CORRUPT TRAINER.

there must’ve been a clear distinction as to why your trainer only allowed sessions from 9pm up until midnight, but your desperation when it came to relentlessly searching for a personal trainer didn’t leave enough room in your mind to think deeper about the true nature of its shadiness. all you needed was a spotter, and toji’s services claimed to provide just that.

and what happens when you combine height, a monsterous build, superhuman stamina, and a handsome face? well, you get toji fushiguro in all his abhorrent glory.

his chiseled body virtually doubled your frame with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. a mean looking man with a scar over his mouth like some battered veteran. whatever he got into during the day was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.

inviting him over to your home gym was one thing, but it was looking to be another when his “help” took the form of sensuality; his large hands running along the back of your thighs when he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your head for warm-up stretches, or even the occasional groping of your ass when it came down to squats, he was barely doing his job, what you paid a hefty price for, and yet you loved every bit of it.

“c’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” toji’s gruff voice goads, watching the way your tiny cunt struggles with swallowing the head of his wrist-thick, bulbous cock. you were put in the awkward position of doggy, yet another one of his sessions derailed and he deemed this new workout could help you build up some much needed endurance. you were going to need it if you planned on keeping him around.

it surely seems that way when you’re practically running from the pleasure he pistons into you, thick cock kissing your cervix with each skillful, angled thrust of his. large hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place for him — because if there was one thing your personal trainer was strict about, it was form. and your form was beyond perfect.

“‘s just too good.” you mindlessly whined, attempting your hardest to grip onto the thin cushion of the yoga mat beneath you. toji lets out a deep scoff at your vocables, driving his hips against your ass once more, this time a bit sharper with a hint of fervor as its aftertaste. “and you’ve been training with me for how long now?” his question came out in a mocking tone as his lips stretched wide in a crooked smile, that of a statement rather than a query.

“t-two weeks .. fuck.” you respond, mind going hazy from the gaining intensity of his potent movements. the feeling was all too much, it came as no surprise when pleasure began to surge from your spine to coil at your core, building up that high you've been chasing for the past hour, that grumpy ol’ toji continued to rip away from you.

pressing a heavy hand to the small of your back, he arches you forward, groaning at the sight of how swiftly you position yourself for him, your face pushed against the mat.

maybe his training has paid off. . “two weeks and you’re still struggling to take my cock?” he pulled your hips back against his, leaving you defenseless in the ministrations. “guess i need to train this pretty little hole of yours more often.”

with the end of his sentence, he snakes his thick arm around your waist, the pad of his thumb finding your achy, puffy clit, rubbing the nub in tight, harsh circles. if your moans weren’t already loud enough, you were sure the whole town could hear you by now, crying out his name like no tomorrow while your legs trembled with your impending orgasm. “‘m cumming! so hard!” you cry, drooling into the mat as he fucks you through your orgasm.

it wasn’t until soon after that he finally reached his high, sending hot and sticky ropes of cum into your womb. not once had a session with toji ended with him shooting his cum in a more responsible way, with a rubber. it was clear to you since the very first time you allowed his fantasies to come to fruition — toji didn’t believe in condoms.

your body went lax as soon as he pulled out, and he tucked his cock back into his pants, hovering over your sad frame with an amused smirk on his scarred lips.

“good session. i expect $800 wired to my account by the mornin’.”

GOJO — THE ENABLING TRAINER.

when you first showed up to the private room of your local gym in search of your assigned instructor for the night a.k.a “the strongest,” you were expecting some big burly man with a cocky attitude — someone you didn’t particularly get along with. but much to your surprise, instead, he was handsome; fluffy white strands of hair that strayed upwards and a million dollar smile with just the charisma, the charm to back it up.

gojo stood over 6 feet tall, and although he was on the lankier side, there was no denying the lean muscles that peeked through his skintight black top. he smiled, throwing a loose cloth over his broad shoulders.

“you ready to get started?”

your eyes greedily took him in, scanning over the finer details of his gorgeous build. it wasn’t until about thirty seconds of daydreaming about what he’d look like unclothed that you finally gave him a response in the form of a nod and hum.

of course satoru wasn’t an idiot, he could tell from how dazed you were during the first few minutes of instruction that you were focused on something else, not that he minds though, it’s truly an honor that a girl as pretty as you is capable of fawning over him, just as many others do.

after having to shake your thoughts whenever it came to watching him take a large swig from his water, droplets of the liquid streaming down his chin to graze his prominent adam's apple, or the soft appraises he’d coo when you finally got the hang of his workouts, it was the end of yet another vigorous session with him, sweat dripping from your chin down to your chest that was scantily clad in a baby pink sports bra. you held on taut to your water bottle as satoru carried conversation with you.

“you improved so much in just an hour. i’m proud.”

his praises barely reached your ears before you looked at him with adoration glossed over those pretty eyes — there was something about him that you just couldn’t get over, but you knew you needed him badly. you dabbed perspiration from your forehead with a matching pink towel, soft smile forming on your doll-like features.

“thank you,”

he nods his head slightly before starting, “you seemed a bit distracted today, though. something on your mind?” his query pulled you from your gojo-induced hypnosis, causing you to blink away the embarrassment pooling up within you. were you truly that obvious?

“hm? there’s nothing, i’m fine,” your reply came out low and sheepish while your eyes struggled to find anywhere else to settle besides those bright baby blues. he took it upon himself to inch closer to you, studying your features until you gasped softly once your back hit the wall. “nothing?” he asks for confirmation, and you affirm. “nothing.”

“all you gotta do is use your words if you need me.”

gojo’s hands found their way at your thighs, creeping them upwards underneath the thin spandex of your shorts. his touch felt hot against your skin, each brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your inner thigh causing shivers to trickle down your spine while he watched with mirth at your pitiful attempt to keep your whines at bay.

“i think .. i think i need you.”

with that, satoru smirked and lifted your leg up just enough so that it fell over his arm. his lips met yours with a salacious that only the whorest of whores could possess, skilled tongue angling its way inside your mouth to gently clash with yours in the sweetest harmony that had you buckling underneath the frame of his body.

it must’ve been a spur of the moment when you found yourself rutting your hips up in search for satoru’s, a pitchy moan sounded into the kiss when he matches your ministrations, grinding his sweatpant clad and half-hard, leaking length into the seat of your shorts; creating the most delicious sensation as the tip nudged against your clit.

his free hand took purchase at your cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against the heated skin while his movements increased in greediness. your mind’s too hazy to make out anything besides the pleasure and build up of your orgasm — so much so, that it pulled you back to reality as soon as it hit, your sloppy kisses coating gojo’s soft lips in a thin sheen and the seat of your shorts sopping wet from the release of your high.

yet, gojo kept at it until he too came to a falter, cumming an ample amount in his sweats while groaning deep into your mouth. he separated from the kiss for just a split second before he took it upon him to goad,

“we can add 30 more minutes and i’ll give you more than just a taste.”

CHOSO — THE INTIMIDATING TRAINER.

a pierced tongue, some tattoos running along both veined arms, and a deep, monotonous voice were a recipe for your timidness when it came to the kamo, who you’d invited over for your very first home training session. it didn’t help that he was on the quieter side, responding to whatever small talk you’d make with one or two words while his intense eyes would follow every move you’d make as he’d help with your form.

he truly wasn’t a bad guy, or so you thought. even now, during your session with him, his praises were appropriate, he wasn’t too handsy nor did he seem to have any ill intent; being with him felt surprisingly comfortable and refreshing just as the crisp, cold water you two were currently drinking, made fresh from your refrigerator’s tap.

“was it too intense?” he’d asked in regard to the exercises you had just completed. intense was an understatement, you didn’t know how you could move your body in such ways that you did, which wouldn’t have been possible without his expertise. choso set the chilled glass of water down onto your coffee table, feeling coy from sitting on your couch, something he’d never done even with his regulars, and in response, you shook your head at the query, settling yourself by his side.

there was truly no denying how absolutely stunning you were, like some angelic being brought to him from the heavens up above in the form of the sweetest thing he’s ever met. he was afraid that if he blinked too hard, you’d vanish.

the more his eyes focused on your lips when you talked, how you’d massage the sore muscles of your thighs and even let out cute whines because of the fact, the more he found it harder to contain his thoughts, rapidfire in his mind. those perverted thoughts that only some horny teenager could have, not a well off adult like him.

yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting hard in his sweats, a dark grey patch spreading at the crotch, what he’d hoped you’d mistake as spilt water.

“shit,” with that of a husky sigh, he ran his hand over his face, tinges of pink battering the tattooed scar across his nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry.”

oblivious to his situation, you were quick to express your inquiry. “sorry about wh- oh.” the head of his cock practically peeked through the barrier of the hem of his sweats while he made a futile effort to cover himself with one of your pillows once you had realized.

he looked cute like that, embarrassed by something so natural that it even spurred on your arousal, the thought of him getting worked up over you doing virtually nothing. “i-it’s okay.. i can help you if you want.” you offer, moving your position to sit between his thighs.

violet hued eyes widened from your newfound boldness, the clearing of his throat being the only true source of sound he could make in that moment.

“nah, nah. it’s-“ before he could inch out the words, you were drawing featherlight circles at his tip over the fabric, causing his breath to hitch and resolve to falter.

choso wasn’t someone who’d allow himself to be in such a pathetic situation, yet the thought of you carrying out his perfect porn plot fantasy was all he needed for that internal morality to fly straight out the window.

you chuckled at the way he hiked himself up when you finally took him from his bottoms and into your hot, wet mouth. just the sight of his cock disappearing past soft, glossy pink lips has his temperature rising, feeling as though he could pass out.

it’s hazy for him — your hand at the base, the rhythmic bobbing of your head slowly while gradually picking up speed. he never would’ve thought the job he took on for extra cash to fund his college textbooks would end up with someone as gorgeous as you giving him a chance. every pump of your hand around what couldn’t fit into your mouth had him groaning, bucking his hips up as gently as he could without battering the back of your throat.

though, he wouldn’t mind if he did.

staving off a gag, you ultimately increased your pace, determined to get him off while your other hand fondled his plump balls.

from the faint touches alone, he could feel his high approaching, embarrassingly quicker than usual. yet, he couldn’t help it when you started to grow sloppy, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down his shaft.

“w-wait, fuck.. ‘m gonna.”

it took no time for him to shoot his seed into your awaiting throat, his head thrown back against the headrest while he bucked his hips to jettison every last drop. you swallowed all he had to offer before pulling away, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

maybe he wasn’t as intimidating after all.

GETO — THE CHARMING TRAINER.

you were his favorite. you had to be. even in the long line of women waiting to have their own turn with him, you were always a top contender. he had always made time for you, and you alone.

geto’s popularity made perfect sense in your mind. he was tall, handsome with narrow features and dragon tattoos strung along both arms, a man ahead of his time. not to mention, his docile, gentle demeanor. he was charming as all get out and you were beyond aware of your superstar status of being the only one he wanted.

“are we actually going to get some training done or is there something else you want to do?” he straps his fingerless gloves around his palm, tank top tight around his torso, carving out each and every trace of his abs while looking over you, a pleasant smile quirked at his lips.

you felt sheepish under his sharp gaze, a feeling that comes all too natural with expert trainer, suguru geto. “i’m fine with whatever you have in mind, sugu.”

if you didn’t know any better, you’d swore you saw his cheeks dust in the lightest shade of pink at the endearing nickname. you were cute, too fucking cute and perhaps, that was the reason he kept you around.

“i’m thinking we test that stamina ‘nd see if you can hold up riding me?” he hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up just slightly. “no help, all on your own.” in all honesty, you could definitely take up his challenge. how hard could it be to take some dick?

or so you thought.

“fuck, sugu! ‘s too much!”

you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the miserable state that you were in but it ultimately did seem as though geto’s lessons had gotten you nowhere. the tip of his cock wasn’t even an inch past your cunt while you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, pathetically trying to take what was the easiest part.

he smirked at you, resting his hands behind his head. “i’m not helping, princess. i meant it.”

you continued to try and sink yourself down onto his unreasonably thick cock, a soft crack of a whine tumbling past parted lips when your pussy engulfed another half inch of him. “but-“

“if i have to help you, we’re not finishing until you’re a mess.” he grits, not harsh enough to come off as daunting but stern enough to warn you. yet, the warning fell to deaf ears when you began to whorishly beg pleas of “help me, sugu. help me.”

from that, he let out a low groan, his hands on your waist sinking you all the way down to the base before he gained stability, flattening his feet onto the floor and fucking his cock into your fluttering cunt.

with the way he moves, you were almost positive you had the wind knocked out of you from those first few thrusts alone. soft babbles resonated throughout the room while you clung to his body like it’d comfort you in the hell that was his potent ministrations.

you felt far more sensitive than you ever felt, white hot pleasure coiling within you in no time, your pussy tightening around his shaft in such a suffocating way, geto felt as though he couldn’t breathe either. “s-so tight, princess. i know you wanna cum, cum for me, baby.” he goads through a strained voice, his thumb now working between your folds to find purchase at your clit, rubbing the puffy nub in moderate circles.

“if you do t-that, i might—“

and before you knew it, you were gushing around his pretty cock, face twisted in the prettiest picture of pleasure. the aftershocks of your orgasm were way more intense as you were fucked to overstimulation, a sly grin on his lips.

“told you we weren’t stopping, darling.”

[rosenclaws]

Birds of a Feather || Old Man!Logan x Reader x Worst!Logan

summary: Logan loves you even if he can't say it but he knows that given his old age he's been lacking in the intimacy area. When a strange portal opens up and another Logan tumbles out of it, things get a little messy. (Or Worst Logan cucks Old Man Logan)

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, cucking, fingering, rough sex, cum eating, masturbation, thigh riding, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, mating press, doggy style, dirty talk, kinda mean!worst logan (he taunts old man logan a lot), slight pain kink (Logan), ass play, nipple play, breast play. Also neither logan ever interact with each other beyond talking.

a/n: Soooo Merry Christmas!! Here is my gift to all of you lmao. So to set a few things up, At the start both men are called Logan but a couple paragraphs in is when I separate them into James and Logan. I really hope it doesn't get confusing but I did my best lol. I really hope this lives up to peoples expectations im kinda nervous lol. Anyways happy holidays and I hope u love it!!!

Logan was an old man now. The adamantium was seeping itself into his blood. Killing him. It had been for years but with his healing factor starting to fail him the poisoning was truly taking its effect. He was weaker, tired. His heart was touched by a poison and it was turning him cold. There's only one good thing in his life now and it's you.

You're too kind. He tried to keep you away from his fucked up life but you were relentless. You were an experienced nurse who could take care of Charles. Free of charge. He fought you at every step of the way. Not wanting your pity. But he caved. 

Eventually you started taking care of him too. You were just too pretty, too charming. He couldn't stay away. This old man doesn't believe he gets to be happy and you try to change his mind every day. He did his best to take care of you too but the one area he knows he's lacking is the sex life. He tries, he really does. But he's old and while you're the sexiest thing on the planet, sometimes he just can't keep it up or he just can't finish.

It's embarrassing. Humiliating. You wave him off, telling him that it's not a big deal. That he still pleases you in a million other ways. Riding his face, his big fingers, you don't need his cock to know that he can take care of you. But it still bothers him. Still you lived your lives and things were fine. Until something weird happened. Really fucking weird. A large yellow portal opened up in your house. Logan bared his claws and pushed you behind him, ready to fight whatever the hell stepped out of it. 

To both of your shock another...him? 

Beaten up and bruised but its him. He looked younger but his hair was in these little tuffs and he was wearing a god awful yellow suit. He was kind of cute. Is this what your Logan would have looked like when he was younger? You snap out of your thinking, this is another man. It's Logan but not Logan. 

"Fucking shit!" The other Logan yells as the yellow door closes behind him. 

"Wade you dumb motherfucker I'm going to rip your head off!" He roars. He turns around, wiping the blood from his face. His eyes go wide when he sees you. He calls your name and steps towards you. Your Logan growls, putting up his claws. 

"Back the fuck up bub." The other Logan looks between the two of you and just narrows his eyes. Both their shiny claws come out to threaten the other. 

"Logan?" You call softly. Both of the men turn to you. 

"Can we just talk?" They look at each other and slowly retract their claws. 

After getting both of them to calm down the other guy explains exactly how he got there. He's from another universe, another time. He was pulled from his world into this one by an asshole with a stupid face and red suit. His stupid friend was messing with a little time machine thingy he stole and now he's here. That was his summary of things. You...tried to grasp it. You live in a world with mutants so time travel and universe hopping wasn't exactly strange. But to see another Logan. He also keeps glancing at you. 

Every time he does James, you've decided to start calling your Logan by his childhood name to make it easier, James tightens his grip on your hand. The way this other Logan looks at you, they're such sad eyes. He must have had a you in the other universe. 

"You can stay with us for a while, until you can get back to your time." You offer sweetly. 

"Thank you sweetheart." Logan's hands twitch, like he wants to reach out for you but he doesn't. James reluctantly gets up, pointing to the spare room and keeping his eyes on Logan's every move. 

"Don't drink my liquor." James mumbles as he heads to your bedroom. 

"He's the anchor being, really?" Logan whispers but you catch him. 

"What was that?" Logan freezes and turns to you.

"Nothing sweets," He flashes a smile you know he's lying. This Logan has the same tell as your own. 

"Who am I? In your world?" You ask curiously. Logan's face drops and he seems to close up. 

"No one, just a friend." He stalks to his room and closes the door behind you. Sighing you wonder what you've got yourself into now.

Living with two wolverines was not easy. Especially for you. They didn't get along and you had to play peacemaker. It was exhausting. Logan was nice enough to you but closed off and James was pissed off and protective. You were worried they'd slit each other's throats.

Plus...it was hard living with two Logan's when they were both ridiculously attractive. You never wanted anyone else but James. But this was just confusing. He was James but he wasn't but he looked like him and fuck he was ripped. James had a body to envy but so did Logan.

You were ashamed to admit you thought about Logan, just a little bit. You never let it go far but your dreams ran wild. They were hot and dirty and you woke up feeling soaked and guilty. You didn't say a word to James or Logan. What good could come of that? But they're perceptive men and you could feel Logan's eyes on you in the mornings. James' too. You couldn't escape them forever.

You should have known something was up the moment you walked through the front door and saw both boys sitting together in the living room. Normally they'd stay far away from each other.

"Hi..." You say suspiciously as you set down the grocery bags. 

"Come here." James pats his lap and you walk over. He pulls you down onto his knee and smashes his lips onto yours. You can't help but moan as his hand squeezes your ass. 

"James!" You moan as you try to push him away. You look over at Logan who was watching with hungry eyes. Licking his lips as his eyes trail up and down your body. 

"We had a talk sweetheart," Logan's voice is deep and primal as he stands up and grabs your chin.

"We both know what you want. The old man over here can't fuck you the way you want to be fucked." James tightens his grip on your waist as Logan flirts up a storm. 

"I...James I-" You look at James with a guilty look on your face. 

"It's okay honey, I want you to feel good." He says while glaring at Logan. He isn't going to just hand you over, but he knows you crave to be destroyed, ruined and he can't do that for you anymore. So reluctantly, he's going to let his other self fuck you. 

"Rule one. You don't get to come inside." James situates you on his thigh. Slowly rocking you on it until you're squirming. 

"Rule two. She says stop, you stop." Logan eyes your cleavage with a hungry look. 

"And rule three. You don't get to kiss her." He says possessively. 

Logan rolls his eyes but agrees to the terms. The three of you head to the bedroom. James sits on a chair facing the bed. He groans as his bones creak. You shoot him a worried look but he waves you off. Unbuttoning his pants and letting his cock free. Logan pulls your focus as he leaves hickeys up your shoulder, sucking on a particular spot on your neck. 

"Shit.." You groan. How did he know that was your sweet spot? You don't have much time to think as you hear a claw come out. Logan waits and you nod your head. He cuts through your clothes and they fall to the floor in shreds.

"Fuck." Logan groans as his hands trail up your body. Your bare skin drives him nuts. He closes his eyes as he takes his time exploring. Committing your body to memory, each curve and dip. 

"Missed this." He whispers softly for only him to hear. 

"Lay down sweetheart." Logan hums and you obey. Crawling onto the bed as Logan sheds his yellow suit. Your eyes trail down his built chest to his already hard cock. 

"Damn." 

"As big as your boyfriends over there?" Logan says with a smirk. 

He kneels onto the bed and grabs your legs, putting them around his waist as he bends down and goes back to biting your neck. Your nails dig into his biceps as you buck your hips. His cock presses against your thigh as he moves down your body. Stopping at your breasts, squeezing and teasing one of your nipples while sucking on the other. You whine when he bites down. Licking over the spot he bit. 

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." He smiles through his apology. He moves down your stomach and rests himself in between your legs. 

"Let's see how sweet you taste." You gasp as he buries himself into your cunt. His hands locking you in place, not letting you move against his pleasurable assault. 

"Logan!" You moan as you claw at his hair. Raking your hands through it until you find a grip. Pulling on it only eggs him on. His tongue moves against your clit over and over again. He refuses to let up as your moans get louder. You try to move but Logan growls like an animal. 

"Don't fucking move." He licks his lips as he raises his head. He looks over to James and smirks. 

"I see why you're so protective, wouldn't want to share a girl as sweet as this either." You look over to James who was slowly stroking his cock. It was painful watching another man feast on his cunt but he can see how much you're loving it. 

"Play with your tits." James commands as Logan goes back down. 

You listen and slowly play with your nipples. Squeezing your breasts and arching your back when Logan sticks his tongue into your cunt. Fuck he knows what he's doing.

"I can't- fuck! I-" Your back arches high as Logan sucks on your clit. 

He doesn't let up. One of his hands lets go of your thigh and his thumb presses on your clit. His tongue is now moving to your cunt. You roll your hips as Logan fucks you with his tongue and rubs your clit with his thumb.

It's a deadly combination that leaves you helpless. You come around his tongue hard. He groans as you leak around him. Licking up the sweet taste until he's satisfied. As you start to relax you feel Logan's tongue back on your clit. 

"Fuck!" You gasp in surprise as he places himself back on your cunt. 

"Too much! Can't take it!" You claw at the sheets but Logan pays no mind. 

"You can take it, always have you crying on my face." James says huskily. 

He wants a taste, mouth watering at the sinful sounds of your went pussy. Tears threaten to fall as Logan shoves two fingers into your cunt. He fucks you like he knows you, curling his fingers just how you like it. The sounds of your cunt get louder as he roughly fingers you. 

"One more come on, fuck give me one more." Logan props himself on his elbow as he pistons his fingers into you. 

"No No I can't." You cry. You don't want him to stop but it's so overwhelming. It's too much pleasure. 

"Yes you can." Logan cups your cheek and wipes away a stray tear. 

"I got you," Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you come again. Your cunt clenching around his fingers as soak his hand. Both of them watch in awe as you make a mess. 

"Knew you could take it." Logan takes his fingers out and sucks them clean. He eyes James who hasn't taken his eyes off your cunt. 

"Want a taste old man?" You look over with pleading eyes at your boyfriend. You need him too. He winces as he stands up but leans down and gets between your legs. 

"Shh baby, just want a taste." James squeezes your thighs softly.

Your cunt twitches as he leans down and takes a fat lick up. You're on edge from your previous orgasms and it's borderline painful. Both men look up at you when you gasp. 

"I'm okay, just please be gentle." Your lips form into a small pout and James melts. 

"Course baby," He takes a few soft licks and you sigh as Logan strokes his cock. 

He takes your hand and wraps it around his cock. Fuck he's big and hard and leaking over your hand. You can't help but notice it's different from your Logan too. But you keep that thought to yourself. James grunts as he gets back to his feet. His beard slick with your juices. He slips two fingers into your cunt and pumps them slowly. 

"Did so good, baby." He praises and you smile. You bite your lip and close your eyes as you take in James' thick fingers. They work you like magic, he knows you inside and out. 

"Are you gonna take my cock now sweetheart?" Logan purrs in your ear. 

"Tell me, what dirty fantasies do you have up there." Your breath catches in your throat as he cups your breasts in his hands. 

"Any positions you want to try? Face down ass up is always a favorite of mine, or I can put your legs on my shoulders and press you into the mattress." You moan just picturing each scenario in your head. 

"I can hold you against the wall. Bounce you on my cock so you're forced to take every inch of me.

"Even better, we can do all three." Logan lets go of you and nods his head, telling James to go sit down. James takes his fingers out and brings them to your lips, pushing them into your mouth as you suck on them like he trained you to do. 

"You okay?" James asks and you nod. 

"M'alright baby, are you okay?" You reach up and grab his hand, squeezing it gently. Is he still okay with this? If he's too uncomfortable you'd stop but he just smiles. He leans down and kisses your head, then moves to sit back down. 

"You've been talking a lot of shit bub." James says gruffly as Logan nudges his cock at your cunt. You're on your back with Logan pressing your hands into the mattress. 

"Don't worry old man, I'll take care of her." He slides in and you moan. He's going too slow, relishing with every inch.

"Faster!" You beg but Logan doesn't listen. Instead he pushes all the way in, balls deep and throbbing just being in your sweet cunt. 

"Oh fuck yeah." Logan purrs as he draws his hips back, slamming them back into you.

His pace is slow and hard. He watches your breasts bounce with each thrust, enjoying the way they move because of him. He's still got you pinned down and you want to move, you want to hold onto him as he fucks you but he won't let you. Logan's got stamina and it's clear as he doesn't let up. 

"Logan I-" He growls and pulls out much to your dismay. Manhandling you to your knees, grabbing your neck and forcing you to look right at James. You couldn't meet his eyes as Logan sinks back into you. 

"Ah ah, don't you want him to see how good you feel?" Logan says in a mocking tone. Smirking as he sees the fire lit in James' eyes.

"It's okay baby." James says as your head falls down to the comforter. Logan's just so big. He's overpowering all of your senses. He just keeps going and going. Logan tilts his head back as he digs his fingers into your hips. 

"Such a tight fucking cunt." He presses your face into the bed and grabs a handful of your ass. Pounding his hips into your pussy and loving every little noise he's fucking out of you. 

"She likes it when you choke her." James says, his breath ragged as he watches you get fucked. Logan chuckles and puts his hand around your neck.

"Of course she does, such a dirty little whore you got on your hands." His mouth is filthy, the degradation pouring from his mouth with ease.

James mixes his praise with his meanness but Logan is pure filth. The pressure on your throat sends you into fucking orbit. A fat cock pounding your sweet spot and rough hand on your throat is lethally delicious. You could die happy. 

"That's it, just let me use you sweetheart. Doesn't that sound fun? Being my little toy? Our little toy?" You look at James who's perked up at the mention of him, your cunt clenching around Logan's cock. 

"Oh that got you interested huh?" Logan teases. 

"You can be our plaything sweetheart, just nothing but a couple holes for us to use. Big man over here can stick his cock down your throat while I get the back." Logan rubs his hand along your ass, his thumb trailing down until its teasing your asshole. 

"He ever been in here before?" 

"O-Once." You mewl as he presses his thumb, not breeching you yet but knowing he could if he wanted to. 

"Is it as tight as her cunt?" He asks James. 

"Even tighter." James spreads his legs, he was getting hot. He sheds his jacket and unbuttons his white button up. Being this old and still ripped was so fucking unfair. His pants were already at his ankles and his cock was stirring just remembering that day.

How you cried and whined as he prepped you with his fingers. How fucking tight you felt when he slid his cock in. You were a mess, babbling and whining and begging to be ruined. James opens his eyes and sees you staring at him. Hunger in your eyes as you take in your handsome boyfriend. You may be getting fucked by another man but you only ever want James. 

“Maybe next time." Logan moves his hands back up your body.

He sits back on his knees. His hands come to your breasts and pull you up so your back is against his chest. His cock somehow sits deeper as he bounces his hips up and down, spearing his cock deeper and deeper. One of his arms wraps around your waist while the other plays with your breasts. 

"Logan!" You chant over and over. He's grunting in your ear whispering dirty things that only you can hear. 

"I know you're loving this sweetheart, you may love the old man but you love my cock more." You whine, words failing you as you try and talk. You start to go limp in Logan's grasp so he tightens his hold. 

"Come for me sweetheart, go on." He purrs as he lets go of your breasts to pleasure your clit. Rubbing small circles until you're squirming out of his grip, or trying to.

"It's okay, I got you." Logan whispers as you tilt your head back into his shoulder. 

Eyes rolling back as you fully submit to the man. Your legs shake uncontrollably as you come harder than you have in a while. He holds you up as you melt, your vision blurring as you're sent to cloud nine. You were clawing at his arms, digging your nails into him until he bleed which only made things better for Logan as he humps you like a crazed animal. Grunting and groaning. 

"Fuck!" He lets go of you to pull out, whimpering at the loss of your wet cunt.

He's rough with his hand as he jerks himself until he comes all over your back. Hot cum spurting from his cock and drenching itself on your skin. Your eyelids are heavy as you collapse into the bed, your body aches with a delicious sort of pain. With all the energy you could muster you glance over at James. He had cum staining his chest, breath ragged. He was worn out just from watching. 

"I love you." You say softly, reaching out for him. Your hand doesn't make it very far so he meets you halfway. His pants pulled up and cum still on his stomach. 

"Feel good baby?" He pets your head and you nod sleepily. Logan has gone off to take care of himself. Redressing into that god awful suit and coming back with a towel. 

"Can I?" He looks over at James who nods. Gently he wipes his cum off your back, cooing when he accidently stimulates your clit again. 

"Sorry sweetheart, just gotta get you nice and clean." Logan looks at James before leaning down and kissing your forehead.

James doesn't argue. Once you're cleaned up James tucks you into bed. He sits on the edge as you curl into his lap. Logan comes back with water and a towel for James. You're sound asleep by the time he's back. Logan smiles at you with a fondness that James can only recognize as love. 

"You know her." Logan looks up and shrugs. "Heard her say she was just a friend. You were lying." James continues. He knows Logan was lying because they're one in the same. They may not like each other but they knew each other better than anyone ever could, even you. 

"Look. You may think your life is fucking miserable but you had your family, you have her. You don't know how lucky you have it." Logan growls. 

"Lucky? You think becoming a shell of who we were is lucky?" James feels the anger surging inside of him. 

"At least she's alive in your world." Logan hisses. The truth comes out. Why Logan worked you like he already knew you, why he looked at you with such sad eyes. Why he listened to you. James caught all of it from the start but you never did. He looks down at you and you barely stir. 

"What happens to us, in the future?" James asks while staring at you. Timelines don't need two of the same man and he knows that. He just needs to hear it. "I don't think I'm supposed to say." Logan mumbles. 

"Who fucking cares?" Sighing Logan looks over at you before revealing the truth. 

"You die and your world starts to fall apart, that's why I got pulled into it."

James knew that death was coming. He could feel it. He had been slowly dying his whole life. That's not what bothers him. There's only one thing holding him back in being ready for the end. You. He can't leave you alone but it sounds like he does anyway. Failing you once again. 

"What about her? Is she okay?" 

"Yes.” James nods, he doesn’t ask what happens. He doesn’t want to know. As long as you’re okay then that’s all that matters. 

“Take care of her. Please.” James asks, for once letting Logan see his gruff façade break. 

It feels like an odd request. Both of them know it, but he wants you to be safe and protected and no one will love you more than him. In any timeline, any universe, he loves you. 

“I will.” Logan promises.

The two of them don’t share many words after that. It’s not like they’re suddenly friends now but they’re less hostile towards each other.

Eventually the strange yellow portal appears once again and Logan leaves. The time he spent here feels like a fever dream. Maybe it was? But you notice that James holds you a little tighter for a little longer now. He also rests a little easier. He knows where he’s headed, what’s to come.

But its a little easier knowing that no matter what, you’ll always have him. 

[bootycallin]

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ want me that top!

꩜ .ᐟ basically; vi’s the type of top…

cw; female reader. tons of praise. fingering (r! receiving). pet names (baby, babe, etc.). vi can’t stop yapping (💀), softdom! vi. not proofread.

a/n: first thing i post omfg. i got into arcane recently and wrote this on a whim, i want this woman so bad. if u see any more warnings i missed, please tell me!

NSFW UTC.

vi’s that type of top that just wants to see you feeling good <3

vi’s that type of top that just can’t shut up. she can’t help it. praises spill from her mouth like a leaky sink when she pushed herself on top of you, staring down at you with what almost seemed like heart eyes. if that was anatomically possible, it would happen to vi. or maybe there would be little birds spinning around her head. you’re so pretty it makes her dizzy.

vi’s that type of top to touch everywhere. she wants her hands all over you. she wants every part of you to be properly appreciated. she wants her handprints, her nail indents all across your skin.

vi’s that type of top to also kiss everywhere. no matter if you think it’s weird or embarrassing. she just wants herself all over you. she wants her dna mixed with yours, she wants her skin to melt into yours. if she could blend you and her, she would do it. but she’ll settle for just marking you in every way she can.

vi’s that type of top to almost never touch you too hard. she might touch you firmly, but never once will she try to bruise you. she could never, even if she tried— your skin is just too perfect, *you’re* too perfect to be marked and marred by bruises. she does get a little out of control sometimes, though… she’s trying!

vi’s that type of top to sniff you like a dog. you might be sweating, sticky and all, but she doesn’t care. she wants to smell your skin. she wants to breathe and live you. so she’ll keep her face buried into your shoulder at any time she can, trying to commit your scent to memory until all she can breathe is you.

vi’s that type of top that wants to feel you. she doesn’t really like straps, only when she’s stressed and really just needs to fuck some of it away. vi likes fingering you. she likes feeling you from the inside out, feeling how wet you are, your warm, soft texture against her roughened fingertips.

vi’s that type of top who just can’t stop yapping when you’re about to cum. yeah? gonna cum for me, princess? come on, give it to me, baby. it’s what she does when she gets excited— also when she gets nervous, but she’d rather die than to admit that. she just wants you to feel good.

vi’s that type of top to be shameless. she’s vocal and she can’t shut up and she loves you. truly a killer combo.

“s’ fuckin’ pretty,” she groans into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss up and down, stopping to gently tug at your skin. her hands are under you, one grabbing and squeezing one of your thighs as she keeps it apart for her, the other pressed against your sobbing cunt, knuckles deep where you want her most, palm squishing against your poor, sensitive clit.

“vii,” you whined, hips bucking against her. she shushed you, gently biting your skin again as though it was a warning.

“shh. good girl, good girl, that’s it— fuuuck…”

you could’ve sworn she was the one getting fucked with how she grunted and groaned. she wanted to smack herself for being so weak, so mushy. it wasn’t her fault you felt so damn good squeezing around her, gummy walls molded to the shape of her fingers.

“shit… so fuckin’ perfect, my pretty girl,” she mutters against your skin, fingers digging deeper and deeper into your cunt, rubbing against the top side of your pussy to try and find that special little spot that made you cry for her.

“so fuckin’ sweet, ain’t you? yeah,” she muttered, squeezing your thigh, then giving it a soft smack. “so fuckin’ sweet. pussy so fuckin’ sweet, so fucking wet…”

the way she speaks, almost nonchalantly, the way she says those types of things so damn easily— it was always something that surprised you about vi. she could say the dirtiest things ever and yet make it sound so sickeningly endearing— and exciting. you gush around her hand, slick covering her fingers, and you can hear her chuckle softly.

“oh gosh, baby. you’re dripping,” she briefly pulls her fingers out of your pussy just to see the wetness that coats her fingers, much to your dismay. your whines of protest are quickly quieted when she presses the tips of her fingers to your twitchy clit, rubbing soft circles against it.

“vi, please…” you whined, not even sure what you wanted. you just wanted her in general, you needed her.

“please what, baby?” she muttered, like she didn’t know damn well what you wanted. “words, sweet thing. i’m no mind reader,” she was smirking, and you could hear it in her voice. she could be so mean.

“please, fuck—“ you whimpered, hips bucking against her fingers to try and seek friction, trying to look for some respite for the aching down there, the growing need. “please… please, wanna cum…”

you expected there to be some more begging, but you cut yourself off with a moan as you feel her fingers prod at your entrance again, slipping in with ease, her thumb now pressed against your clit to follow. you almost scream when she finds that spongy spot inside you, the knot that was building in your stomach tightening impossibly more. “fuck, how can i deny you, baby?”

she really couldn’t. not when you looked so damn cute, squirming and crying, face as red as a tomato. she pulls her face from your shoulder to look up at you, soft blue eyes almost peering into your soul.

“viii.. gonna-“

“gonna cum, baby?” she’s rubbing the pads of her fingers against your g-spot, thumb circling your hardened bud at the same deliberate pace. it was slow, but not lazy. if anything, it was careful. meticulous. measured. she wanted to give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had—which wasn’t really hard for her, but she tried her damndest every time.

“you’re dripping, babe,” she muttered against the love of your ear, briefly kissing over it, “fuck. gonna cum, aren’t you, baby? gonna cum f’me?”

you can just barely whine out her name, eyes rolling back, and she smiles, pleased with herself. she doesn’t let herself stop though. “fuck, yeah… just let it go, baby. wanna see you cum f’me. cmon, give it to me, baby, yeah, just cum f’me…”

and it doesn’t take much more of her dirty talk and praise for you to gush onto her palm, orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, thighs trembling, head thrown back. if she could only explain how perfect you looked. she could probably reach her own high just seeing you cum.

“fuuuck, that’s it, baby,” she grunted, kissing up and down the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving goosebumps in the trail of her lips. “that’s it. good girl, yeah… let it all out f’me. gimme everything, babe. like that, goooood girl-“

she doesn’t stop until you’re completely spent and starting to get overstimulated, shaking your head and trying to push her away by the shoulders. “good girl. so good. so fuckin’ pretty,” she mutters as she pulls her fingers out of your cunt. not before wiping her fingers up your slit to gather every ounce of your orgasm and arousal she could, bringing it to her lips shamelessly.

“vi…” she smirked. “what? just tastin’ my sweet thing.” and she kisses you, the taste of her lips mixed with your essence slipping onto your tongue. she pulls away with a sigh.

“pretty girl.” she muttered. “my perfect girl.”

vi’s that type of top that just can’t shut up, who practically begs to see you cum. because at the end of the day, all she wants is to make her baby feel good <3

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[likeumeanit9497]

metal | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n got a few new piercings, and when her best friend matt asks to see them, she can't say no

warnings: smut; unprotected p in v (bad); oral (fem receiving); masturbation (m/f); phone sex; dirty talk; 18+

notes: hiii guys. i feel like tumblr's flakiest writer ever coming back on here every few weeks with a one-shot and telling u all im gonna be more consistent but then just not being consistent at all. i just started a new college program and it is taking up so (!!!!) much of my time, so ive been barely able to put any time towards writing for funsies. soooo it might take me a couple weeks to put out one shots (sad) while im in this program, but i swear im doing the best i can. i appreciate u all so so so so much, but matt girls this one is for u <33

With a sigh of relief, I crawled into bed. It was late, and I was exhausted after a long day of dealing with family shit. The only thing that got me through my day listening to my dead-beat father come up with yet another excuse on why he no-showed at my birthday dinner was the promise that, at the end of the day, I would be able to curl up in bed and forget all of my problems. Now that time had come, and I couldn’t wait to turn on some trashy reality TV show and lose myself in their cushioned world for a little while.

Just as I started the show, I felt my phone vibrate beside me. For just a moment I was filled with dread — thinking that I would be once again pulled back into the drama that was my father — but once I saw the name at the top of my screen, I felt my body relax. Matt was calling.

Matt was my best friend, and he had been for years. Him and I met on the first day of school freshman year, and immediately became inseparable. He was the only person in my life who I ever felt comfortable around enough to truly open up to about my problems. There really wasn’t much in my life that he didn’t know, so of course I had told him last night that I was going to see my father, and of course that was why he was calling. Annoyingly, I felt a smile creep up on my face. I hated that I loved how involved he got with my problems; as if they were his own. I would never admit this to anyone, but it really helped because it made me feel less alone.

“Hey you.” I greeted him after accepting the call. “Hey Y/n.” His voice sounded familiar in my ear, and already it calmed the sea of bad thoughts crashing in my mind. “How did today go?” He asked, keeping his tone light. I knew though that if I could see his face, there would be faint lines of concern etched in his forehead. I sighed. “Exactly like I knew it would. He gave me an insincere apology and weak excuse the way he always does.” Matt stayed silent on the other side of the call, allowing me the time to tell him as much as I wanted. His soft breathing through the speaker, however, comforted me and let me know that he was listening.

“He smelled like a distillery and couldn’t stop slurring his words, yet he was still trying to tell me that he hadn’t drank all week.” I heard my voice weaken, and I hated that I felt a lump forming in my throat over the situation. I hated that I cared, and I definitely didn’t want anyone to know that I did; even Matt. But of course, he knew anyways. I heard an empathetic sigh through the phone. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” I rolled my eyes, doing everything I could to keep the tears from falling. “It’s whatever. It’s not like I’m really losing much, but I did tell him that I’m done for good.” I forced my words to come out smooth, like I didn’t care. And I didn’t, not really.

“That must have been really hard, Y/n. I’m really sorry.” Matt’s words were sincere, and they caused the lump in my throat to grow even bigger. I forced out a laugh to keep my other emotions at bay. “Don’t be sorry. It’s better this way. Maybe now I can finally have peace in my crazy life.” There was silence on the line, and I knew it was because Matt wanted me to go deeper about my feelings, but I couldn’t handle much more tonight.

“Anyways,” I started, blinking away my tears and plastering a corny smile on my face as if Matt could even see it, “How have you been? We haven’t talked much over the past week.” At the change of subject, Matt picked up on my disinterest in the topic of my father, and like the best friend he is, transitioned into our new topic smoothly. “I’ve been good, been working a lot but it’s been on exciting things. What have you been up to? You know, besides today?” I chuckled softly.

“Honestly not much besides work. My boss has been really stressed out since the end of last quarter so I’ve been coming into the office early and staying well past five every day.” I paused, staring up at my ceiling trying to think if there was anything exciting I could tell Matt. Suddenly, I remembered that there actually was something that I had done that was more interesting than just working late all week. “Oh! I also got some new piercings last week.” It was Matt’s turn to chuckle.

“Y/n, how the fuck did you fit more piercings on your body?” I laughed. He was right, both of my ears were filled with every piercing imaginable, and I also had my nose, tongue, and belly button pierced. I had already told him that I would never get anymore facial piercings, and I certainly didn’t have much room on my ears to get more, so I understood his confusion entirely. “Do you want to guess where they are?” I teased, feeling relieved to have something to talk about that didn’t make be absolutely miserable for once. “Sure,” I heard what sounded like a blanket rubbing against the speaker, and I assumed that Matt was now getting comfortable in bed, also seemingly enjoying the light-hearted conversation, “But can I get some hints?”

“Sure,” I replied, “You can ask me three questions.” I heard him smile through the phone. “Okay…” There was a pause as he came up with his first question. “How many did you get?” Without hesitation, I was able to respond. “I got three.” There was another pause, and then. “Are two of them a part of a pair?” I laughed at Matt’s not-so-subtle guess. I had told him months ago that I had been wanting to get a certain pair of piercings for a while, and I knew he was thinking of that exact conversation. “Yes they are.” I replied, and there was a dramatic gasp on the line. “Ouch, you actually got your nipples pierced?” His voice was laced with playful concern, and something else. Intrigue?

“Okay okay, you got two out of the three. One more question left.” I encouraged him. If he was shocked about my nipple piercings, I couldn’t wait to hear his reaction to the third. He was silent again for a moment, surely confused by the third piercing. Nipple piercings weren’t that outlandish for me, and he knew that, but this last one is sure to blow his mind. “Oh god, I don’t know. Is it another body piercing?” His tone sounded so helpless, and I knew he really didn’t have a clue. “It is, yes.” I did my best to contain my laughter at this point, not wanting to give it away.

“Is it a second belly button piercing?” The guess was weak, and by the tone of his voice he knew it. “Nope.” I replied, biting my nails in anticipation. He was once again silent on the phone, and I knew he was officially running out of ideas. After a moment, I decided to give him one last hint. “Think lower.”

A new silence poured from the phone. Before, there was the silence of deep thought. Now, there was a heavier silence that let me know he finally put it together in his head. Below your belly button, there aren’t many places you can get pierced. He knew that just as much as I did. But I didn’t know if his silence meant he was just shocked, or if he was genuinely disappointed in me. For the first time since becoming friends with Matt, I felt nervous that maybe I had gone too far.

“You’re serious?” He asked, finally breaking his silence, and I couldn’t help but release a short, nervous laugh. “Yeah. Why? Did I just delve too far into the daddy-issues stereotype?” I tried to keep my tone humorous, but inside I was actually worried that was true. Did he think I was weird now? Or did the fact that I had a piece of metal pierced atop my bundle of nerves immediately turn me into some dirty whore in his eyes?

“No! Jesus, no Y/n.” His rushed words put a pause on my spiralling thoughts, and I felt myself relax slightly. “It’s just,” In that moment, I wished that I could see his face. At least then I would have better odds of being able to read him instead of just waiting helplessly on the other side of the phone. He was struggling to find the words he wanted to say, and in my mind that meant he was getting ready to give me some sort of lecture. It wasn’t something that he was in the habit of doing, but I had also never done anything as shocking as this before. I began to prepare myself for this lecture, and come up with explanations and excuses for what I had done, when his hesitant words stopped me in my tracks.

“Can I see them?”

I stared at my phone for a second, unsure if I was just hearing things. “You want to see them?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, for clarification’s sake. I was shocked. Even with how close Matt and I are, we had never ever seen each other naked. In fact, there had been no physical intimacy between us other than platonic cuddles every once in a while. I would be lying, though, if I denied ever having moments of weakness. There had been times, when we would have sleepovers after tough days and the heat of Matt’s comforting body pressed against me, where I had wanted to throw all logic aside and press my lips to his. But I never would have done it. Matt wasn’t exactly known for his boldness, and I feared that my bad habit of being spontaneous would absolutely destroy our friendship. But now, he had me questioning all of that.

“I’m curious.” He replied, his tone nonchalant. I still couldn’t tell if he was being serious, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Just as I was about to tell him to stop fucking around, my screen lit up with a Facetime call from Matt. My stomach did a flip. “You gonna pick up?” His voice made me jump, but I cleared my throat and hit accept.

Suddenly, Matt’s face filled my screen. He was in his bed, the only light in his room seeming to come from a faint source; likely his computer screen. His face was so familiar, and the smile he sent me so comforting, that I immediately felt more at ease than I felt before. “Hey.” He said gently, and I laughed at the ridiculousness of this moment. “Hey” I replied before shifting my position in bed nervously. “So you were serious?” I asked awkwardly, and he nodded. “If you’re okay with it, obviously.” I took a deep breath. I was okay with it, of course, but it was just so out of the norm for us that I felt shell shocked.

“I’ll show you nipples first.” I said, sitting up in my bed before grabbing the bottom hem of my oversized t-shirt. I positioned my phone in front of my still-clothed chest, and watched his face on the screen. He laid naturally in bed, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but the way his dilated blue eyes were glued to the screen I could tell that he was feeling the same kind of anticipation that I was. Slowly, I finally lifted my shirt up over my chest; allowing him a full view of my new piercings.

I intentionally left the shirt up to block my own vision, because I couldn’t handle watching him stare at my tits for the first time. In the dark, all I heard was silence for what felt like forever, and I got worried that I had somehow lost him. Cautiously, I pulled my t-shirt away from my eyes, and glanced at him on the screen. He was staring intently; I could see his eyes move from one tit to the other every few seconds, and there was a slight grin across his face. “Wow.” He said finally, still taking them in. “Those are sick piercings.” I stifled a laugh at the fact that he was still trying to act like it was all just about the piercings, and that there weren’t two tits attached to the metal. “Thanks.” I replied, a small chuckle still evident in my voice.

I allowed him a few more seconds of shameless staring before speaking again. “You ready for the third?” I watched as he blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “I can’t wait.” He replied, causing my stomach to do another flip. I brought the phone back up to my face as I laid back down, smiling at him nervously as I pulled my comforter off my lower body. I was only wearing a pair of panties, so I already felt shy when I positioned my phone in between my legs. I used the front camera still, hoping that it would allow him a better view, but hated that you could still see the lower part of my face.

Matt hadn’t moved in his bed since I looked at him last. In fact, it almost looked like his image was frozen. His eyes were still glued to the screen, and he seemed to be barely blinking; as if he was scared that if he did, he would miss it entirely. “Okay, ready?” I asked, using the hand that wasn’t holding the phone steady to grab onto the side of my panties. Even in the almost-dark of his room, I could see him gulp before nodding his head. “Ready.” He replied.

Slowly, I hooked a finger under my panties, and pulled them to the side. In the blink of an eye, all of me had been revealed to Matt through a screen inches away from my core. My eyes veered back and forth from myself in the phone and Matt’s expression. I could see the shiny metal glitter against my pink clit, and watched as Matt visibly struggled to keep his composure. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I felt myself begin to tremble under his shameless stare. I grew nervous, then, that my body would begin to give away how suddenly aroused I became under his eyes. My core was flooding with heat, and I knew that I was beginning to grow slick with my wetness.

“Does it hurt?” He finally spoke, but his voice had changed drastically since I had last heard it. It had dropped nearly a whole octave, and there was a sort of breathlessness to it that was foreign to me. It was the voice of arousal, and that knowledge was enough to drive me crazy. “N-no, it doesn’t,” I replied, using all the strength in me to not squeeze my legs together to relieve some of the pressure flooding my core. “It’s been a week, and these sorts of piercings heal really quick surprisingly. I can touch it and everything.” My last sentence fell from my mouth thoughtlessly, and I immediately felt my cheeks grow hot at my accidental boldness. That didn’t last long, though, because Matt’s next words pulled all that heat right back to where it was before.

“So touch it then.”

It was like all the sense was knocked out of me from his words. I would have thought that my instinct would have been to laugh and roll my eyes before telling Matt to knock it off, but the seriousness of his tone, the sharp blue of his piercing eyes, and gruffness of his voice caused my brain to shut off. Immediately, my hand traveled to my bud, where I began to slowly play with the metal. Although I had been telling the truth when I told Matt that it was fully healed, I hadn’t yet touched myself in this way since getting it pierced, and the new sensation immediately sent pleasurable shock waves through my body. As I began to slowly rub my clit, the metal added a new level of pressure to the nerves that — combined with the adrenaline that came from doing this in front of my best friend for the first time — caused me to throw my head back against my pillows.

“Tell me how it feels.” Matt’s deep voice filled the space around me in a way that made me feel even more erotic, and I released a soft moan. “I-It feels good.” I replied breathlessly, my fingers beginning to move quicker as I squeezed my eyes shut in pleasure. “Better than before?” His question came out slightly choppy, and through the phone speaker I heard the rhythmic shuffling of his comforter. “Y-yes. Much better.” I managed to reply, the thought of what he was doing to himself on the other side of the screen pushing me closer to the edge.

“Look at me.” He commanded, and without hesitation I lifted my head up; looking at him through the screen. He could only see the lower half of my face, but I could see all of his. As I continued toying with myself, I watched him through fluttering eyelashes. Although his face had not changed much — besides the darkening of his pupils and the faint accumulation of sweat on his brow — the repetitive movement of his bicep at the corner of the screen told me everything that I needed to know. “You look so good.” He complimented me, his voice low and gravelly. I moaned in response, rolling my hips slowly as I began to grow antsy with a need that I knew I couldn’t fulfill myself.

The pleasure was growing like a balloon deep inside of me, but my own fingers weren’t enough to reach it. Not now; not when I have a beautiful man that I trust more than anyone else watching me with that dangerously erotic gaze. Just like Matt knows everything about me, I know everything about him. And so I know that, in this moment, he wants the same thing that I do. That’s why I didn’t feel any unease or hesitation when I drew my fingers away from my clit, ran them achingly slow along the rest of my heat, and spoke.

“Please come over Matt.”

It was a request that I had made to him countless times. Those times I was usually close to tears after a long day of dealing with the shitty cards I had been handed in the family department. I needed him then, like I need him now. In those times he never ever hesitated, and this time was no different. In one swift motion, I watched through the screen as Matt lifted himself out of his bed, threw on a t-shirt, and grabbed his keys off the bedside table. “I’ll be there in ten.” Just like my request, his response was the same as always. As I told him to drive safe before hanging up the call, I felt my body vibrate in a way it never had before. I pulled my hand out of my panties and waited in desperate anticipation for the familiar sound of his car pulling into my driveway.

𓆩☆𓆪

Matt arrived at my place in eight minutes, and as soon as I saw his headlights through my window, I sprung out of bed and raced to the door. There was no nervousness, no reluctancy, no questioning whether or not we were making a big mistake; all I knew was that I needed his hands on my burning skin desperately.

I flung the door open before he even had a chance to knock, but Matt didn’t hesitate before pulling me into him and engulfing my mouth with his own. Although we had never kissed before, it wasn’t shock that I felt in that moment; it was the melting satisfaction of familiarity. I practically collapsed in his arms as his mouth moved against mine as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, and relished in the feeling of his hands travelling wildly across my aching body at last.

As he held me gently against the wall, I felt his hardened member press against my core, and I shuddered in pleasurable frustration. In that moment, I could have lost all self control — pulled his pants and boxers down in one movement and slipped his cock into my aching core right then and there — if he hadn’t grabbed onto my ass and lifted me off of the ground. Without removing his lips from mine, he carried me past my entrance way and all the way into my dark bedroom as if he had memorized every square inch of my place.

As he continued to kiss me with hungry desire, he paradoxically draped my body gently against my bed. Leaning over me, his mouth refused to leave mine and his tongue begged me for entrance. I obliged, and our tongues swirled together with comfort; as if they were old friends. The sound of our heavy breathing filled my head, and I ran my hands along his body; allowing myself to feel him in a way I never had before. Each part of him felt familiar — his back, his arms, his stomach — but each new part of him I touched set off sparks of electricity under my fingertips. This was real, and this was good.

It was only after I began toying with the waistband of his pants, and he the hem of my shirt, that our lips separated and we really looked at each other since the moment he arrived. Both of our chests were heaving as we tried to catch our breath, and I gazed up at his darkened eyes for what felt like forever, until a soft smile crept onto his swollen lips. “Hi.” He said, and I released a short laugh realizing that this was the first word either one of us had said to the other since hanging up the Facetime call. “Hey.” I replied, a smile matching his now etched onto my face.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the bottom of my t-shirt, and I nodded. “Please.” I replied, feeling no shame in my clear desperation. Matt obliged, pulling the shirt up over my head and exposing the tits he had seen on Facetime not long before. There was a pause, and for the first time since we started all this I felt briefly insecure. That is, until I looked up to his face and saw his jaw physically dropped in awe. He looked like he had fallen into some sort of trance, and mindlessly brought his two gentle hands toward my hardened, pierced nipples. He ran a soft thumb against each piercing, and I hissed at the deliciously taunting sensation.

“Do these ones hurt at all?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but his eyes never left my chest. “These ones do a little, yeah.” I replied, to which his eyes finally fluttered up to my face with slight concern. “But it’s really not that bad.” I added, reassuring him out of fear that he might suddenly not want to continue. This seemed to help, as his eyes made their way back to my chest before his body suddenly began tilting forward. He leaned above my chest, really only centimetres away, and I watched as he placed two small, unbelievably gentle kisses against each hardened nipple. The ecstasy I felt in that moment caused me to release a soft moan, and goosebumps spread across my skin like wildfire, and I suddenly realized that I needed him more than ever.

As if reading my mind, his mouth then began moving slowly down my writhing body. He took his time on my sternum, then the skin below my belly button, then my hip bones, and I felt like I could explode. My hands flew to his hair and I subconsciously tugged at its base in decadent frustration. And then slowly, so, so, slowly, Matt began dragging my soaked panties down my legs. I felt like I could crumble under his gaze, but his eyes never left my newly exposed core. Blinking ever so slowly, he dropped to his knees and grabbed my shaky legs to part them. Once he did, I watched as he groaned softly at what he saw.

I knew without having to look that I was literally dripping from arousal, and that hunch was confirmed when Matt took one finger and dragged it along my slit; collecting the overabundance of fluid. He didn’t even take his eyes off of my centre, he just brought his wet finger to his mouth and wrapped his lips around it; so transfixed by what he saw in front of him that he didn’t even care to make a scene of tasting me for the first time. I had never felt more glorious than I did in that moment, and it was so overwhelming that I could have came just from sight alone.

Slowly, Matt’s mouth inched closer and closer to my clit, before he carefully wrapped his lips around it. Upon the first contact of his warm tongue playing with the cool metal of my piercing, I was hit with a powerful wave of pleasure that shook my whole body. As he picked up speed, swirling and sucking my bundle of nerves, I couldn’t control the sounds that fell from my lips. Moans of pleasure, pain, and anticipation filled the room, and they only seemed to draw similar ones from Matt.

Matt slid two fingers into me with ease, and began pumping them in and out in rhythm with the movements of his tongue. His fingers were curled up to just the place I needed them to be, and I felt what was left of my sanity begin to crumble as I approached an orgasm. The orgasm that I had been desperately needing since our Facetime call. It’s impending presence had taken control of my mind for what felt like forever, and now it was finally threatening to take control of my entire body. Yet, still, I needed more.

Quickly, before the first waves could crash, I pulled Matt’s face away. Immediately, his blissed-out expression quickly changed to one of concern, but before he had the chance to speak, my desperate voice filled the room. “Please Matt, I want to cum with you.” His features softened before understanding flashed in his eyes. Without saying a word, he stood up and began unzipping his pants. I waited in anticipation, watching with hungry eyes as his painfully hard member sprung free from his boxers. Once he had fully discarded his clothes, he leaned down and kissed me so deeply that I saw stars. His mouth tasted like me, and I couldn’t help but slip my tongue past his lips; intoxicated by the combination of me and him on my tastebuds.

I felt his naked member press against my core and I shuddered from pure lust. I was so engulfed in the intensity that I was afraid I would fall into pieces as soon as he slid into me. Breaking the kiss, Matt straightened himself out and grabbed my legs before placing them on either side of his waist. The two pieces of us that needed each other the most right now were just inches from one another. My eyes fell between my legs, and I watched in euphoric awe as Matt grabbed his swollen member, lined it up with my centre, and slowly pushed into me. His movements were so torturously, deliciously slow, my eyes rolled and my head fell back onto the mattress.

On each slow roll of his hips, his cock slammed into my g-spot and made my vision go spotty. I held onto his flexed shoulders like I was drowning and they were my life raft, and I released harsh guttural moans each time my walls stretched; welcoming him graciously. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Matt’s raspy voice fluttered my stomach, and I opened my eyes to come face-to-face with him. He was staring down at my contorted face with a look filled with nothing but pleasure and adoration. His flushed cheeks and dark pink lips gave him a look that bordered on innocent, but there was a certain hint of hard focus in the depths of his ocean eyes that told me he was feeling as good as I was.

Each time he thrusted into me, the soft crest of his pelvis brushed ever so lightly against my new piercing; granting me a new form of pleasure that I had never experienced before. I had been told by other people that the piercing can be intense during sex, but I had underestimated just how intense it would be. I had no sense of control as Matt’s cock continued to drive into me, and I couldn’t help but vocalize how he was making me feel.

“J-just like that Matt, fuck!”

“Your c-cock fills me s-so go-od!”

“H-harder, please baby!”

At my last statement, Matt showed he was listening by suddenly slamming into me harder and faster than I had ever felt before. He grabbed my legs and wrapped them tightly around his waist, and as I arched my back in pleasure he draped one of his arms around it and used the other to hold my jaw; brushing it lightly with his thumb to ensure me that his gentleness had not completely disappeared. His breathing quickly grew more and more rapid, and deep grunts fell from his mouth every few seconds.

I was hit with shockwaves of pleasure upon each of his thrusts, and I knew that my orgasm was closer than ever. I dug my nails into his back and tightened my legs around him in a desperate and subconscious attempt at getting as close as possible to him, and it was clear that there was no stopping the orgasm that was bubbling inside of me. “G-gonna cum Matt.” I squeaked out, rolling my hips up slightly deepen his thrusts even more. “Good girl, want me to cum with you?” His words were in my ear, and even the dampness that his mouth made against my skin added to my unraveling euphoria. Beyond the point of being able to speak correctly, I simply nodded my head frantically.

As I did, Matt released the deep moan that pushed me over the edge. My orgasm took control of every cell in my body, and I cried out in overwhelming pleasure as it tore me to shreds. I felt my body stiffen so much that I was practically lifting off of the bed, and my walls pulsed intensely as I squirted violently all over Matt. Just then, I felt Matt’s body stiffen above me, and his movements became a whisper as he cursed into my ear. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” His moans rang in my ear with each of his weak thrusts, and I felt his twitching cock paint my walls white as he came undone in unison with me.

Eventually, his body stilled completely, and he rested above me as we both caught our breaths and came down from our highs. His cock slipped out of me, and I immediately felt cold and empty in its absence. After a few moments, Matt lifted his head from my shoulder and gazed at me with a soft smile on his face.

“Damn.”

“I know.”

”I mean, that was-”

“I know.”

We continued to stare at each other, both with matching smiles on our faces, until I dissolved into childish giggles.

“What?” Matt asked, unable to keep himself from laughing as well. “What?” He asked again, nudging my shoulder gently as I giggled. “I mean come on,” I continued to laugh, “That was crazy. Don’t you think it was crazy?” I looked at him, starting to feel the first hints of regret now that it was over and we had to go back to being friends. “I don’t think it was crazy.” He replied simply, before bringing his lips back to mine. This kiss was different than the other ones we shared tonight, though. There was no hunger, no lust. There was just love.

He pulled away after only a few moments, and I looked back at him with what I was sure was confusion all over my face. “I have never felt less crazy in my life than I’ve felt tonight.” Matt continued, and I felt my stomach flutter, “Tonight, everything finally feels right.” I felt a bashful smile form on my lips. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel the exact same way. “So,” I started, unsure of how to maneuver this, “What now?” Matt got up.

“Well,” He began, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and using it to gently clean me up, “It’s late and you’ve had a long day, so I think we should get some sleep.” I propped myself up on my shoulders and watched as he began to clean himself next. “And then when we wake up tomorrow, we’ll go get some breakfast and talk about what we both want.” He walked into my adjacent bathroom and started the shower, the way he has done a thousand times before, before walking back to where I was and helping me off the bed.

Once I was on my feet, he placed another gentle kiss against my lips, and I felt my insides melt at the comfort of his touch. “But if I’m being completely honest, which you know I always am, I think we both already know we want the same thing.” I looked up at him through nervous eyelashes, and had to chew my bottom lip to stifle the massive smile that was threatening to take over my mouth. Matt had no problem showing his huge smile, and he tilted his head quizzically in my silence. “Am I right?” He asked, and instead of responding with words, I leaned up and placed a kiss of my own on his lips.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[crescenthistory]

can u do a remus x reader where they are best friends and remus has been in love with reader forever, and reader is kind of a player because she also loves remus but didnt know that the feeling was reciprocated

i did a bit of a different take on this, hope you enjoy it babe

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: suggestive references and themes (talk of shagging, etc.), drinking and partying in hogwarts, fem!reader, use of y/n, sirius' pov for half then your pov (with all the mental tirades that includes), partier!reader more so than player, you have snogged james and mary (in the past), platonic!sirius but borderline fwb at one point, platonic!wolfstar, pining!remus, secretly pining!reader, no slutshaming, background jegulily, confessions, happy ending ofc

a blurb about everyone's reaction

Sirius was in a bit of a difficult situation.

On the one hand, he had a beautiful girl all but crawling into his lap in the middle of an admittedly good party and he knew she would be a hell of a great time.

On the other hand, he was absolutely certain that his best friend was in love with her, despite his many denials, and he was not sure if she herself knew yet.

She had to, right? You had to know that Remus was in love with you with how he had been making puppy eyes at you more or less since first year. The two of you were the best of friends and went everywhere together – it was simply impossible that you had not had a conversation or two about it. But then again, Sirius and Remus were also the best of friends and he had not heard so much as a squeak about any such conversation taking place, let alone him admitting his feelings.

Could you truly be so oblivious? You had to know, and are choosing to live your life as you wanted regardless, as is your right. Would Sirius be an arse if he rejected your current casual advances because of Remus? If he was, would he be an arse for telling you about Remus' feelings or for dictating how a woman conducts herself based on the feelings of a man?

Sirius was way too drunk to be thinking any of these thoughts.

Yet, immediate action was required in order to handle the situation at hand. You and Sirius had been sitting beside one another for a while now, your leg thrown over in between his thighs, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, your hand on his chest. The music was absolutely blaring, the alcohol was flowing freely through your bodies, making the places where you touch that much hotter, in all semblances of the word. Sirius knew that if he was to tilt his head down to look at you, your lips would surely smash together.

It was not uncommon for you to shag some lucky bastard at these parties. You were carefree and fun in that way that made you fit seamlessly into your group of friends when Remus introduced you. It was never serious or deep on either front, Sirius knew as much – you and Mary had an arrangement of mutual fun going on for a while and you had even snogged James once before he got with Regulus and Lily.

Sirius participated equally as enthusiastically and the two of you were good friends, so really, it made sense that you ended up in this situation at last.

Still, sirens were flaring in his head screaming "BAD FRIEND, BAD FRIEND" the longer he sat with you like this. Because whenever you did find someone to hook up with at a party, you always left Remus' side to do so, as you were otherwise attached at the hip. And Sirius was the one left to watch him struggle to keep his face from crumbling every time. He was also always the one to poke the bear – or the wolf, if you please – by confronting Remus about his feelings for you constantly, both in a playful and serious manner.

As the designated campaigner for "Remus get your shit together and kiss her yourself", he should not be making that more difficult for his best mate.

He also should not get involved in whatever delicate situation you two had going on, but when his eyes flicked across the room, terrified to make eye contact with Remus wherever he was, determination grew in his chest. Something had to be done.

"Are you good, Siri?" you asked from beside him, words slurred just enough for him to know you were tipsy but not so much that he was concerned.

He took a deep breath. "Actually. Can we talk? Alone?"

Your body grew a bit tense against his, enough that he knew you understood this was not some scheme to get you alone. "Sure," you said wearily, already detangling your body from his.

The two of you got up and hastily made for the portrait hole. Sirius hoped that the cool stone walls outside would help him sober up enough to be able to communicate effectively.

His heart sank just a little bit when he caught sight of familiar tawny hair leaning against the wall by the exit. He knew all too well how this looked. Remus' eyes lit up when they landed on you, his mouth opening to make some sort of greeting when the words died on his tongue at the sight of a guilty Sirius trailing behind you.

You seemed nonplussed. "Oh, hi Rem," you said brightly, almost giggling around your words from the alcohol. You stepped off your path for a second to press a kiss to his cheek, smiling softly at him. "You having fun?"

Remus' face seemed strained, but he kept his smile up, even if just for you. "Yes, dovey. Are you?"

You nodded and squeezed his hand before taking a few steps back and away from him. "Very much so. We're just heading out for a quick chat."

He looked quickly between you and Sirius, never quite meeting his eyes, and Sirius felt as if he was being incriminated just by standing there with his hair slightly tousled from you playing with it. The hurt he could see play across his best mate's face was exactly the type of thing he was hoping to avoid by the awkward conversation he was about to have.

Remus' smile grew more thin-lipped than before as his gaze settled somewhere on your cheek. "Great. Have fun."

You just nodded once more before turning on your heel and making a beeline for the door, seemingly unaware of what just transpired between the three of you. Sirius stalled for a moment, wondering if he should say something, but decided against it in case Remus tried to stop him once he realised what the chat actually will be about.

It didn't much matter, though, because Remus stalked off without ever meeting his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, Sirius hurried over to the door to the common room that you were holding open from the outside, smiling back at him. You truly were such a lovely girl, and he hoped to Merlin he was not fucking anything up for you right now.

Stepping through the portrait, he let the Fat Lady slam shut behind him, cringing at the sudden silence that enveloped the two of you. Though, the air was as much of a welcome reprieve as he had expected it to be, and he breathed in a huge chunk of it to steal his nerves.

"Listen, Sirius, if things got too touchy in there then I'm sor–" you tried to begin, but he all but threw his hands up between you in a display of innocence.

"No, no, dollface, don't you worry about that one bit," he laughed out nervously. "I was very much enjoying myself. I just realised– fuck how do I say this?"

He tried to think clearly and find a way to communicate what he knew in his heart to be true.

"No swearing in my halls!" The shrill voice he knew to belong to the portrait that had tortured him for seven years sounded behind him.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said rather petulantly and held out his hand for you to take so that he could lead you down the hall and away from her. He also hoped you read it as the display of well-meaning and friendship that it was.

You accepted his hand gracefully and his heart did calm down just the slightest from it.

The two of you hurried down the hallway, feeling every bit the teenagers that you were, settling down in a corner just far enough away for privacy. The cool stone did marvels for his overheating, and Sirius took full advantage of it by leaning his head back against them.

"What did you realise?" you asked then.

"Huh?" he answered, admittedly quite dumbly.

You had the decency to laugh at him instead of mock him. "Earlier. You said I didn't do anything wrong, but that you realised something."

Sirius heaved a deep breath. "Right, right," he murmured before clearing his throat. Was he overstepping? Possibly. Would he be ripping the bandaid off anyway? Absolutely. "See, I was having fun earlier and saw it as what it was – just two friends having fun, yeah? But I fear not everyone feels the same."

"I swear to Godrick, if you accuse me of having feelings for you, Black, I will chuck you off the Astronomy Tower," you said through a laugh.

"I'm thankfully not that conceited, babe. But it wasn't you I was referring to."

You looked at him as if to say who, then?

"I think– or no, I actually know for certain, even if the stupid sod won't admit it. Erm, okay, so. Wow, how do I explain that? He's my best mate, you know, and I–"

"Sirius, you are making no sense right now."

"Remus is in love with you."

You had opened your mouth to volley back, clearly expecting him to still be stumbling over his words, but now it was just left hanging open as you stared at him, baffled. The two of you sat in silence for much longer than Sirius could have expected, or perhaps that was just his nerves dragging out the moment. You seemed to be fighting for breath.

"Excuse me, what?!" you breathed out, voice increasing in crescendo throughout your sentence. The what ricocheted down the hall; Sirius grimaced.

"So, you didn't know," he surmises, having answered his mental tirade from earlier. "I honestly don't know how you haven't seen it, that boy has literally been mooning for you for years. I'm surprised we haven't had to keep the actual Moony from tracking you down and wagging his tail at you once a month."

Your face told him that this was not a time for jokes, yet somehow you still laughed at that. Sirius realised with horror that your laugh sounded rather wet and saw you aggressively wiping at your face, as if you were about to start crying. "I'm so confused," you whispered.

Sirius sat there rather dumbly, unsure how to make it any more clear. "I don't know what to tell you, babe. He has feelings for you, always has. I don't blame you if you don't return them and I'm sure neither will he – but, yeah no, I figured you should know. And while I totally respect you shagging whoever you want, I just don't think he could handle it if it were me. So I have to back out."

Miraculously you nodded in understanding, despite his ramblings. Your movements were slow, as if you were trying to let his words settle in your bones, processing years of misinterpreting in a matter of seconds.

Sirius wanted to help. "I've tried to get him to tell you himself, but he hasn't even admitted it out loud yet."

That seemed to snap your attention back to him, a fierce look growing rapidly in your eyes. "He hasn't told you? Then how do you know?!" You waved your hands between the two of you to emphasise his point.

Not quite what he expected, Sirius found himself scrambling for words. "Everyone knows! It's literally written all over his face whenever you're near!"

"I've been looking at that same face a lot and I haven't seen that?" you question then, wielding your argument as if you were about to disagree with him.

"Y/N. Baby." Sirius tried to articulate his words clearly. "Remus has feelings for you. I swear on my life. You don't have to do anything with that information, I just had to tell you."

You narrowed your eyes at him, seemingly scrutinising every inch of his face. "If this is a prank, you're dead, Black."

"It's not a prank. I swear on Effie and Monty Potter, the absolute angels they are." He held his hands over his heart for emphasis.

"You could be wrong."

"I'm not though."

You hummed in consideration, still not letting him out from the hold of your inspecting eyes. "I have to go find out." You said it as if it was plain and simple, and before Sirius knew it, you were standing above him.

"What?" he said, again dumbly. He should never drink again.

"Thank you, Siri, I'll see you later," you called as you were already moving down the hallway at an impressive speed, given you had been shocked still mere seconds ago.

Sirius remained sitting on the floor letting his head drop back against the stone and his eyes fall shut. He has either taken one for the team or massively fucked up – the best part is that he still had no idea which one it would be.

This was bound to be an eventful evening.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Your heart was resounding through your entire body and you could barely feel the tips of your fingers – not at all because of the alcohol, you were actually quite certain you had more or less sobered up by now.

No, it was because Remus loved you. Remus Lupin, the best friend you could ask for, the unrequited, unattainable love of your life, for some unidentified reason loved you.

According to Sirius, at least.

Merlin, how you would skin him alive, should he be wrong.

The party had picked up its pace in the few minutes you and Sirius spent outside in the hallway. Someone had conjured up a light fog to roll around on the floor, allegedly to help with the atmosphere but no doubt it was really because the floor was becoming too filthy to look at directly. Warm bodies pressed into each other everywhere and there was a smell of sweat and drinks that on another day might have been enticing. Right now, you only had one focus.

"Where's Remus?" Your words were rushed as you latched onto the nearest arm you could find, grinning brightly when the familiar face of James came into view.

"Hiya, love," he greeted merrily, his other arm wrapped protectively around Lily. "What's up?"

"Remus. Where is he?" you repeated, albeit a bit more abashedly as you saw Lily glance at James sideways.

"Oh," James said and furrowed his brows, as if he was thinking. Then, he turned his head down to look at Lily who was already regarding him. "Where do we think Moony is, darling?"

Lily shifted her gaze between the two of you while biting her lip. She seemed to be making a quick appraisal. "I believe he headed up to the dorm early. Something about feeling tired?"

Nothing got past Lily, and you could tell from her somewhat smug yet concerned expression that she knew something you did not. Or, perhaps you did.

You let out a quick breath. "Oh." You couldn't help the slight guilt that settled in your stomach – even though you still couldn't know for certain that it was because of you. "I'll go find him, then."

"Are you sure?" Lily asked. "He might want to just sleep it off."

Sleep it off?

You nodded, confidence in your choice growing with every second. "I'm sure, yeah, but thanks Lils."

There was not a speck of judgement in her eyes, though her smile remained apprehensive. "I mean, he always wants to be with you, so it should be fine." She winked at you and suddenly your stomach was dropping because did everyone but you know?

Well, perhaps not James because he looked between you and Lily, entertained confusion written all over his face. "Okay, then. Great? See ya later, yeah?"

You squeezed both of their forearms in thanks before stepping backwards away from them, almost knocking into two people on the way. God, this place was packed. You threw some general sound of agreement that hopefully sounded as warm as you intended it before all but running towards the stairs to the boys' dormitory. On the way, you swear you almost lost your life twice, tripping over feet that grew invisible in the fog.

By the time your steps landed on the stairs, you were able to squeeze into the stone wall and quickly run up while avoiding those hanging over the railing. Truly hazardous, these Gryffindors.

The trek down the hall to the dorm Remus had shared with his friends for all seven years of your friendship was as practiced as it was easy. Yet, as your mind was replaying your conversations with Sirius and Lily over and over at record speed, it felt like it stretched on for miles, your own road to Calvary.

Your fingers acted off of instinct as they reached up to quietly rap on the door with two knuckles.

"Sod off," you heard Remus' muffled voice call through the door. You couldn't help the small smile that spread across your face.

You cracked the door open just enough to poke your head through and catch sight of him sprawled out on his bed, face down. Your smile widened. "Me too?"

It was as if his body was a push poppet that suddenly had its strings drawn taut again – his spine straightened and his head whipped around to look at you wide-eyed. He clearly had not expected you. He made some sounds that could probably classify as guffawing before he snapped his mouth shut to sit up and collect himself. The whole process was barely a few seconds, but the syrupy effect on time from the hallway seemed to have joined you into his dorm. Relief washed through your body when he smiled at you, even if it seemed somewhat strained.

"Of course not dove, sorry."

You slipped the rest of your body in through the door and shut it quietly behind you. The silence in this dorm had never felt so complete before.

In your rush to get to him, you hadn't once thought to think of what to say to him. How could you ever possibly breach the topic? It seemed like he could sense your hesitation because he sat more comfortably on the edge of his bed, wool sock-clad feet planted firmly against the floor. He had an inquisitive yet somewhat nervous look on his face.

He beat you to it. "You alright? Shouldn't you be out there, having fun?"

You couldn't help reading some judgement in that, knowing what you now maybe know. "What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, not quite able to hide the potential hurt in your voice.

Remus could pick up on your every mood and his eyes widened comically and he raised his hand as if he was about to talk to a scared wild animal. "Nothing! No, not like that, I just meant – it's a party. You love parties. Did someone hurt you?" His voice grew small by the end of his sentence. You feared someone was referring to Sirius, the only reason he could imagine you leaving a gathering to go be alone with him. You hated the idea.

There were probably a hundred better ways to go about this, but your mind felt muddy with the overwhelming feelings, your earlier drinks and the damn fog that somehow had made its way into your lungs. And you just could not believe any of it.

You were not proud of what you said next.

"Remus, are you in love with me?"

If it had been quiet before, there were no words for the shift in atmosphere after that question. It was like you were alone in a black hole, just the two of you.

Remus' head actually reared back from shock, both from your suddenness and the question itself. His pretty mouth hung slightly open, bottom lip making a slight jerky movement you could only describe as quivering.

"I– what?" He let out, it was somewhere between a gasp and an exclamation.

You took a few steps closer, so that you were standing in front of him, feeling the sudden need to be near, to hear, to know. "Sirius told me."

Remus jerked up too, suddenly standing within arm reach. His eyes were fluttering and his mouth opening and closing in a way that almost confirmed it on its own. "Y/N, I–"

"Remus." You interrupted quietly, sensing his continued shock and oncoming fib. "Don't lie, please."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered then, eyes growing glossy as they flicked all over your face. "I– I'm sorry."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his pained expression. "I don't understand?" you said weakly. Why was he apologising? "Remus, are you in love with me?"

He shut his eyes and turned his head to the side. Your fears were confirmed when he brought up a hand to wipe at the part of his face you couldn't see. "Please," he begged. "Don't."

Don't make me say it.

You have to.

"Remus." Your tone matched his despairing one – his name was your plea.

He turned his head back to you and met your eyes head on with his own red-rimmed ones. A slow sigh was let out through his nose, the sound of defeat, giving in to you as he always did.

Gods, he always did.

"I'm in love with you," he whispered then. Clearly, without any hint at insecurity or deceit.

You took one small step closer, bringing your trembling fingers up to lightly ghost over his cheeks – not quite holding his face, but almost, millimetres apart. You were sure you looked half-crazed as you stood there in silent shock, studying his face in a flurry.

There was no contempt in his face at your stupor. Just guilt and sorrow.

"Why?" you breathed out.

"I'm sorry," was all he offered, once more.

"No, no, don't say that," you insisted, voice suddenly growing stronger. More certain. Your hands made proper contact with his cheeks, and you could feel him deflate beneath your touch. "Please don't be sorry."

At last some confusion drifted into his eyes as he regarded you. "Don't tell me not to apologise; that just makes me want to apologise for apologising." There was light humour in his tone, a smidge of hope. Hope that you wouldn't believe him awful for falling in love with you.

He was in love with you.

You laughed then, not just at his poor attempt at a joke but at the situation, at the prospect.

"You love me?" There was no hiding the absolute awe in your voice.

The guilt was still there, but it made room for softness as he gave you the smallest, saddest smile. "Of course, dove."

You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned forward to kiss his smile into a happy one.

Remus’ body immediately stiffened beneath your touch, shock radiating through him. Then, beautifully, you felt him soften once more beneath you, felt his eyelashes brush your cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut, felt him blow the air from his lungs through his nose in a long sigh, breath warm and inviting against you. Slowly, you parted your lips and brought his between yours, deepening the kiss. Unlike your movements earlier, there was no urgency, there was just him in your hands, him against your lips, his tongue against yours.

You let one of your hands travel to the nape of his neck where you played with his shorter strands of hair, breaking the kiss to lean your forehead against his. Your eyes remained closed as you soaked up up the moment, but you could feel his own burn through your skin. Could hear him guffawing again. A smile settled permanently onto your lips.

“You love me?” you repeated, knowing the answer, but wanting to feel the words on your tongue once more, mixing with him.

He nodded fervently against you, jostling your head slightly to which you let out a soft giggle.

“You– I–” he began, cutting himself off. “Do you…?” he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

“I love you,” you whispered, in awe at getting to say the words aloud in this context. “I’m so in love with you, sweet boy.”

His body disconnected from yours briefly, forcing you to open your eyes and support your own weight, as he leaned back to stare at you incredulously, confused, shocked. His eyebrows were furrowed almost as if he were mad, but you knew in your heart that he was not.

“I– no, that makes no sense,” he whispered almost to himself, shaking his head as he tried to process your words. You fought not to laugh at that – because it would seem like you were laughing at him and that was not nice. You would have more than enough time to be not nice later, for now he needed your patience. “You? Love me?”

You nodded with a smile. His body was still close to yours and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his waist, interlocking your fingers at the small of his back.

There was so much emotion and vulnerability swimming in his eyes, you would almost feel bad if you weren’t so unbelievably happy.

“I never thought you could have feelings for me,” you confessed breathlessly, grinning wickedly despite the pain you were sharing. “Here I’ve been, running around thinking the greatest love I had ever felt was wholly unreciprocated.”

This only seemed to confuse him further, though he was relaxing beneath your touch. “You… This whole time?”

“I suppose so,” you mused. “I only realised two years ago, though.”

Remus let out a groan and a laugh at the same time and then – thanks to any and every god – he leaned his forehead on your shoulder, burying his face in you. “I cannot believe I’ve been torturing myself and you’ve been… in love with me too. This whole time.”

You dared to kiss the side of his head from where he was leaning against you and tightened your hold on him. Something you had done a thousand times over as his friend, yet this sent entirely new sparks through you.

As if he just thought of something, he lifted his head suddenly to furrow his brows at you. “Why would you ever think I couldn't love you?”

You tilted your head at him. “How many times have you not brushed Sirius off when he makes jokes about us? Or said you would never want to be in a relationship? I thought you might view me as a sister by now.” Despite your teasing, residue hurt still clung to your words.

The grimace was instant and Remus shook his head as if that is the worst thing he has ever heard. “Gods, no, I sure do hope not.” 

You both laughed quietly, carefully. His hands were slow as they went up to hold your jaw, fingers brushing the side of your neck in reverence. “I’m sorry I made you think that, dovey.”

“Don’t be. Then I have to be sorry for snogging our friends in front of you.”

Remus flushed slightly at your words, but the awed affection plastered all over his every feature did not waver. “I don’t want you to be,” he murmured while still caressing you carefully. “I just… I just want you. Will you be mine, dovey?”

Your face inched closer and closer to his, your grins growing mirrored against each other. “I am yours,” you whispered against his lips before closing the distance once more.

The most heavenly kisses you ever shared would be those with your lovely Remus.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Oi! Pads!”

Sirius flinched with his whole body, looking over his shoulder with a sheepish smile to face his inevitable death in the form of one Remus Lupin. He had been waiting for it all night as he partied with James, and had managed to get halfway through his second game of butterbeer pong before it was time for his execution.

Reaching out for James’ hand, he shook it firmly and matter-of-factly. “Lovely knowing you mate, take good care of my brother, yeah?”

James seemed entirely nonchalant to the whole ordeal, shaking his hand in return. “Yeah, sure, safe travels Padfoot.”

Sirius then turned to Remus who was descending the stairs from the dormitory, holding his hands up in defence. “Okay, hear me out–” he begins but he was cut off.

He was cut off by a hug. 

Remus borderline slams into him, locking his arms over his shoulders and dragging him close to his chest. Awkwardly, Sirius returns the favour, patting him on the back and making what the fuck eyes at Mary over Remus’ shoulder.

“You’re a meddling bloody bastard,” Remus said into his ear. 

Here we go.

“But thank you.”

Oh. Oh.

He reared his head back so that he could see Remus and the shy yet pleased smile he wore, and Sirius’ whole face split into a painful, beaming smile. “It worked?” he asked giddily, jostling Remus where he was still trapped in the hug.

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus mumbled, though his grin grew.

The victorious, screeching holler Sirius let out was so loud it could be heard down to the dungeons.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

CALL MY NAME AND I'LL COME RUNNING ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?���

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ��i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes. 

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 

and it only increases your growing frustration. 

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it���s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 

you blink. 

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp. 

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink. 

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!

It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards. 

He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it. 

For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello? 

Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him. 

That was until you made the first move. 

It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything. 

At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams. 

"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"

"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"

Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"

"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own. 

You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree. 

In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind. 

"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?

Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet. 

"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten. 

"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"

"Watch out!" You shrieked.

"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed. 

"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds. 

"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."

"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"

Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."

Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"

Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."

"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him. 

"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."

"Um..."

"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."

"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur. 

"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."

Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."

At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"

"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."

"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously. 

Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."

"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.

Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"

Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"

"Mhm," you nodded. 

"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours. 

"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."

"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows. 

"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"

Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."

Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."

[propertyofwicked]

PROMINENT - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, light choking, hand/arm/vein kink (honestly idk) - NOT PROOF READ

sorry for the inactivity i have been busy with moving out :( but im back!!

masterlist the playlist

she couldn’t help it; her eyes were drawn to them every time. lando’s arms were mesmerizing, each vein a winding path that her thoughts followed into daydreams she’d never dare voice. it started innocently enough, just a fleeting glance when he’d push his sleeves up, revealing the intricate map on his forearms. but it quickly became an obsession, her mind wandering to places she struggled to pull it back from, especially when he was near.

lando noticed. he noticed the way her breath would catch, how she’d flush and her eyes would glaze over slightly whenever he leaned in close. he’d always had a playful side, and this newfound power he had over her reactions was too tempting to resist.

so, he began to tease her, subtly at first. leaning on the counter beside her, stretching out his arms so the veins popped against his skin, he’d pretend to look for something just out of reach, giving her an eyeful. he loved the way her cheeks would turn pink, and how she’d suddenly find something very interesting to focus on elsewhere.

they were alone in the kitchen, her preparing dinner while he looked for a snack. lando sauntered over, resting his forearms on the island countertop right in front of her. she tried to concentrate on chopping vegetables, but he made it impossible. he leaned in further, his breath warm on her neck, and she felt the familiar heat rush to her face.

“need any help?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

she shook her head, trying to keep her eyes on the cutting board. “no, i’ve got it.”

but lando wasn’t one to give up easily. he shifted closer, so close that she could feel his body heat, his veins standing out prominently against his tanned skin. he reached out to steady her hand, and she nearly dropped the knife.

“careful,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand, his arms bracketing her against the counter, “wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“lando…” she started, swallowing hard, but her voice betrayed her, breathy and unsteady.

“yeah?” he smirked.

she turned to look at him, her resolve crumbling under his gaze. “you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“maybe. i just love seeing you blush,” his replied, grin widening.

her face heated further, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.

“you’re impossible.”

“maybe,” he repeated, leaning in to kiss her cheek, right where the blush was brightest. “but you love it.”

he trailed his kisses across her skin, pecking her lips quickly before cascading down her jaw and neck.

“so, why do you like my arms?” he asked her coyly, though not truly expected a response.

“i think they’re pretty,” she replied quickly, “but i also like the way your veins run along them,” she added, a hesitant finger moving to trace a line from the back of his hand leading up his forearm.

the room fell into complete silence, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of slightly accelerated breathing. lando’s gaze ceased to leave hers as his hands moved closer to her, wrapping around her waist tightly - her brain worked hard to decipher what lando was thinking, however it didn’t need to work too hard as his hips pushed up into hers.

her eyes closed, leaning into the touch of his fingers following the path of her arms, along the skin of her neck till his hand held her jaw, his thumb tracing across her parted lips.

“i feel the same way about your lips,” lando announced, dipping his head to press short kisses along her cheek till they met her lips. he kissed her softly, nipping at her lower lip as she deepened the kiss, her hands moving to tug at the soft curls at the base of his head, “- always look so soft. so tempting. ‘love when they’re wrapped around me,” he added, stepping back slightly and taking her face in his hands as though he needed a better look at her.

she loved his attention, feeling lightheaded any time he touched her so delicately. he moved closer to her once more, kissing her with such intensity till she was pushed up against the counter, back arching into his embrace.

“jump,” he told her, holding onto her tightly as she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist for him to move them both to the bedroom. her eyes dropped, focusing intently on the way his arms flexed as he carried her, the veins running along his arms seemingly standing out more as they moved into the orange sunlight shining through the windows. he loved the effect he hand on her, knowing she would do anything he said filled him with a sense of power.

he placed her on the edge of the bed, peeling the t-shirt from her body before letting her lean back to rest on her arms, her eyes looking up at him. his body moved to hover above hers, propping himself up as his hands travelled down her body, his lips kissing every inch of uncovered skin till he was knelt in front of her, tugging at her shorts momentarily before removing them fully, her underwear in tow.

“you’re so beautiful,” lando murmured against her thigh, trailing kisses along the skin till he reached her heat.

“lan please,” she whimpered, desperate to feel him all over her, tired of waiting. her broken voice went straight to his cock, straining against his trousers as his hands moved to grip the underside of her thigh, pushing them up to grant him full access.

“needy,” he replied, though he ran two fingers through her folds, feeling how her body responded to him.

“but you love it,” she breathed out, laughing lightly at their full circle moment.

“i do,” he conceded, trailing his fingers down until they reached her entrance, pushing in slowly whilst his tongue found its way to her clit. he started off gentle, allowing her to believe he was taking it slow - however he quickly shattered her delusion by gripping at her thigh harder and eating her like a man starved. he alternated from flicking his tongue over her clit and taking her fully into his mouth, sucking at her sensitivity, his fingers setting an unrelentless pace, twisting inside of her, sporadically connecting with the spot that had her back arching from the bed and her hands reaching to clutch at the curls atop his head. lando grunted into her at the feeling, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body that had her crashing around him, her legs tightening around his head.

“fuck,” she mumbled, sitting back up on her arms to look down at him, though he wasn’t done. her eyes settled on his arms once more as he pulled his fingers from her, and grabbed at her legs, pushing them back up as his tongue made to clean up the mess she had made. lando crawled back up her body, his form above her was almost intimidating, his pupils darkened with lust as her hands reached out to trace the veins on his arms once more.

his head dropped, kissing and nipping lightly at her neck as she reached to tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it quickly from his body before he rejoined his lips to her skin.

“such a good girl,” he told her, looking down on her as he stood in front of her. her face was red, and her chest still heaved - though he didn’t have long to look before she was pushing herself up fully, hands reaching out to toy with the zip of his trousers. though she didn’t undo them as he expected - no, she began to palm his bulge through the material, looking at him with a coy smile as she feigned innocence.

“don’t tease,” he warned her, taking her hands in his and directing her fingers to his zip, but she continued to grip his clothed cock. his hands took hers again, pulling them away from him and holding them above her head as he continued to free himself with one hand, “- what did i just say?”

“don’t tease,” she answered him, still smiling sweetly.

“and yet you continued to tease,” he prodded, using the grip on her wrists to push her back to lie on the bed. lando reached for his belt, stripping it from his belt loops and using it to tie her wrists up above her head.

“too tight?” he asked her, watching for any sign that she was uncomfortable, but instead he was met with a shake of her head to which he pressed a short kiss to her lips.

the rest of his clothes soon joined the pile amassing on the floor, and he was standing over her, cock in his hand as he ran the length through her folds. she whined out, desperate to feel him but he silenced her pleas with a kiss, his lips caressing hers gently as he pushed into her slowly. he was taking time to enjoy the moment, trying to memorise every little detail about her - the way she felt, her lips, the way she responded to him. it was something he would never get tired of, something he never wished to forget.

his thrusts suddenly grew erratic, hips slamming into hers quickly, punishingly.

“taking me so well,” lando grunted, his mouth nipping at the skin of her neck as he felt his own pleasure taking over, "look so pretty like this, making a mess on my cock as i fuck you stupid," he added, his praise and the tightening grip that kept her wrists above her making her brain short circuit. her head rolled to the side, eyes staring intently at the arm that held hers, enamoured by the way his muscles flexed with every jut of his hips.

lando bit back the urge to tell her to look at him - usually, he wanted to see her face when he fucked her, but right now, he was obsessed with the way she looked at him, taking in the sight of him working her to a finish. he felt her tighten around his length with every thrust, squirming beneath him as she got closer and letting out strings of pathetic moans that increased in volume and incoherence. he wanted to drag the moment out for as long as he could, thoroughly enjoying the way she surrendered herself to him completely all because his veins were noticeable.

“you look so hot like this,” she told him, panting.

“me? you should see what you look like baby,” lando replied, though slightly distracted by her hips rolling up into his, matching the pace of his thrusts as though she was begging for relief - begging him to bring her to her climax. she looked completely ruined, mascara running down her face lightly as tears pricked in her eyes, her lip gloss smudged - and he was the reason. it awoke something primal within him, an animalistic desire.

“you wanna cum again? huh?” he asked her, slowing the rocking of his hips, choosing to slam his cock deep into her harshly, before slowly pulling out. over and over again.

“please, don’t stop. please,” she uttered, choking on her words slowly as he bottomed out inside of her again. this time, he didn’t pull out. instead, he rolled his hips into hers, the tip of his cock pushing harshly into her spongy walls, teasing her sensitivity. the pleasure was overwhelming, coursing through them, consuming every fibre of his being as her vision began to darken, only able to see starts spinning through her mind.

the knot in her stomach tightened, threatening to snap at any moment, her chest arching as she attempted to pull her hips back, desperately trying to recreate his thrusting motions. lando soon got the hint, resuming his ruthless pace as he slammed back into her. her hands opened and closed, unable to move but overcome with desire to grip at something, anything.

“f-fuck please. please,” she begged.

“i know, angel, i know,” he comforted, feeling her tighten around his length as the two got closer and closer to relief, “doing so good f’me, baby. such a good girl.”

she moaned out his name, mewling loudly in appreciation of the tenderness in his voice, but she needed more. he knew she needed more, but he couldn’t reach her clit without losing his balance and toppling over. so, his mouth found her neck once more, sweet kisses pressed along her flesh until he reached her nipple, his tongue drawing circles around it before taking it into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucked at the flesh. her head dropped to the side again, staring intently at the arm that kept her caged to the bed.

still, she needed more. he manoeuvred himself lightly, pressing his entire body weight on the arm keeping her trapped beneath him, hips still snapping into hers, the tip of his cock intruding her cervix with every thrust. lando’s free hand trailed her body, settling gently on her neck, his fingers digging into the skin of her airway lightly.

“this ok?” he checked, knowing it was usually fine but still needing her reassurance. she nodded rapidly, her hips raising and rolling into his in a sign of approval. if he tried, he could feel her veins pumping blood beneath his fingers - she truly was the perfect woman for him, knowing how much she trusted him flooded his own veins with a strange sense of relief, love and comfort.

"cum for me, c'mon. i want to feel you making a mess on my cock."

his command was all she needed to be consumed by pleasure, the combination of his dirty words, his punishing thrusts and the pressure he exerted on her throat finally pushing her over the edge. her whole body trembled beneath him, pleasure coursing through her body, her legs flinching with every wave.

lando’s movements became more erratic and yet sloppy as he chased his own high, his grip on her neck softening as his mind went blank with his own desire to finish.

“fuck, angel. so good,” he grunted, flows of incoherent praises tumbling from his lips as he let go of her wrist, pushing back to stand and grabbing her thighs to pull her closer to the edge of the bed. he pulled her hips up from the bed, holding her legs tightly around his waist as he thrusted into her relentlessly, using her body to reach his own high. she looked up at him with half-closed, unfocused eyes, lost in the pleasure that still swam around her brain. he looked even better, eyes fully closed, head thrown back and his mouth parted as he moaned out for her.

she felt overstimulated, mentally and physically. her walls tightened around him trying to offset the slight sting and fatigue - the feeling sent him into overdrive. lando came quickly with a grunt of pleasure, emptying his load inside of her and allowing her sporadic tightening to milk him dry, painting her walls in a pearly white liquid. his balance faltered for a moment as his entire body jutted, dropping her body back on the bed harshly and pulling his length from her. he joined her soon after, laying his entire bodyweight on her as he panted, struggling to catch his breath.

“that was hot,” she told him, freeing her hands from their restraint as she moved to stroke his back, her nails softly tracing along his skin.

“feral. it was feral."

[sillygoosealert]

CAN YOU DO A REVENGE VERSION OF SUKUNA BETRAYING READER??!! LIKE WHAT IF READER RUNS AWAY BC THEY ACCIDENTALLY WITNESS HIM BEDDING ANOTHER CONCUBINE WHAT WOULD SUKUNA DO? SEND AN ARMY, BURN THE WORLD DOWN?!! 😭😭😭 AND CAN U TRY TO WEITE SOME COMFORT OR FLUFF AT THE END TYSMN

The Morning After (Before)

Days After Initiating Sexual-intercourse (whY)

angst, comfort in being alone, upset (angry) Sukuna, you leave, BEFORE you leave it's a toxic relationship, AFAB reader, woopsie Daisy- i killed off the reader (i got carried away ::( )

To explain your feelings to anyone but yourself brings tears to your already puffy eyes. Since that night, there are so many things you've noticed that you could talk about endlessly.

For starters, his boldness has increased plenty- as he is now more than comfortable with having multiple concubines clinging onto him while he slouches in his throne. When asked to describe him just a month or two ago, you would've gone on and on about how he was a gentle giant with you- a lie, but you would've sugar-coated anything when it came to him.

Right now, all you could even think about when it came to him was how good it would feel for all those women to look at him with disgust at his actions instead of devotion and whatever made-up fantasy they had made up in their heads. That's how you look at him anyway.

You despise keeping up with your cleaning and even dread entering his chamber with him. Furthermore, you do not act like you are interested in him. Eyes once filled with adornment and even some curiosity are now loaded with resentment and a trace of disinterest. He sees it, everyone else sees it, and you feel it. But it doesn't make you feel better knowing he knows- it just makes the pit of dread in your stomach grow.

You know you want him to care, but you can't help but feel he puts up a show of all the women at his disposal when you're in the vicinity- stretching his upper arms out and putting each one around a mistress while one or two sit on his spread-out lap. All you can think when you look at him is how much of an arrogant whore he truly is.

When he calls someone to bring you to his chambers, he always makes sure to feel up whoever is bringing you before shooing them out. His shoulders broaden as he motions you to come up on the bed. He looks bigger than he did a moment ago, and you can't help but feel he's doing it on purpose.

It's been weeks since you watched him choose 5 minutes of feeling good over you sleeping well at night. Was it worth it? You don't know. But the way he tries to passionately kiss you while his lower half eats you out makes you think he's trying to act like it didn't mean anything.

Regardless, you can't help but notice that the same woman is always seated on his lap whenever you catch a glance of him basking in all the attention he can.

The light slap to your thigh makes you look at him directly in the eyes for a second, before looking off to the side. That makes him huff, sitting upwards. Silence speaks volumes for both of you, as you are refusing to talk about your feelings because you think you know how it'll go; and he doesn't want to admit he's hurt by your rejection. So you both don't say anything.

This happens whenever he tries to initiate something intimate. You shut down. It often ends with stillness enfolding the room and an awkwardness surrounding you.

After a few minutes of waiting you leave without a word, and he lets you. While you go on to cry into your pillow and go on another night without comfort, while he gets a few concubines to praise him and fill the growing void with arrogance.

The more you clean and the less you eat and sleep, the feeling of wanting to die increases. Passing out when you get just a chance to lie down is now a common occurrence for you, as well as taking your time standing up.

Maybe you're depressed because you thought he would indulge in your selfishness and let you be the only woman to touch him so intimately. It's also possible that all the chemicals and labor are finally taking their toll on you and your body, meaning your time is shortening just as much as the other maids.

But the day doesn't start with you preparing to dust and sweep; it starts in Ryomen's Room.

You aren't upset anymore. You know that it contributes nothing and won't change anything. Instead of crying into your pillow or blaming yourself for his actions, you just go on. The world kept spinning after that night. Your heart kept beating- for now. The thought of him having sex like it wasn't once you under him isn't frustrating anymore. Not knowing what you want is, but you can handle that. You won't be his woman- you won't even be his man; you won't be anything to him if you can have a say in it.

He sits you in a chair facing his bed, clearing his throat as if he's going to speak- but he doesn't. Raising your eyebrow, you once again are met with speechlessness.

"What?" On cue, he acts offended, as if he isn't relieved you chose to speak up.

"Don't speak to me like that, Concubine."

"I'm more of a maid now than anything, my lord." He hums when you say that.

"You could be more than that- you could be much more. If you weren't so thoughtless." Thoughtless isn't a word you would use. Maybe more impassive- or a less self-absorbed characterization.

"What makes you say that?" An obnoxious sigh comes out of him.

"Jealousy fills you to the point you can't enjoy being one of my favorite concubines," He pauses

"It must be…oppugning to see me with so many women who aren't you," His posture straightens.

"But understand, the only difference between you and them is how you act."

"What's wrong with you? You don't understand why I feel this way at all, do you?" A sneer is plastered across his face now.

"Redirect your hostility towards yourself. Your jealousy is your concern, Not mine."

"I'm not talking to you. Lecture your other mistresses-" A hand pivots your head to face him.

"Keep speaking to me like you are not leagues below me. I won't hesitate to discard you."

"I'm sure you won't." He motions for you to go away as another concubine waits at the door. They give you a curious look before heading in. It's just her, no one else. That used to be you.

Later that night, after the last meal of the day, you're mopping the dining hall floors. You're pouring more cleaner into the water. You are alone.

That realization floods awful thoughts into your mind as the morning replays in your mind. And without thinking, you unscrew the cap again and bring it to your lips.

While taking a large sip from it, liquid spilling from your mouth and onto the floor, the taste of soap and something else fills your senses.

You start to gag and dry heave as it goes down your throat. Swallowing your vomit, you run off to your room after putting your things away.

There isn't anything after you close your eyes, not anymore for you, at least.

You fall asleep thinking about the night in question. It loads you with a peaceful feeling.

There's nothing you can do now. No more choosing to stay silent when all you want to do is crawl into your side of his bed and cry. You don't even have to choose to let go of your feelings of envy and insecurity.

You wonder what he'll do with your body the morning after somebody finds your decomposing body.

Tag list: @kbirdieee2540 @apollogeticx @night-brain