#it’s so over I’m so obsessed w this now and forever

[cthuloo]

I went through a goddamn journey with this one my GOD Edge your stuff makes me go insane

"FIGHT SO DIRTY BUT YOU LOVE SO SWEET

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth" - Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

MAFIA AU Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot | Part 2 of "LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME"

A/N - As promised, here is the (albeit, very late) 250 follower special. Art by M-Alexa. Content Warnings / Info - Arlecchino uses they/them pronouns, sugggestiveness, pet names, borderline smut, no feminine pronouns for reader, 10.7k words

Monsters are very real. You know that they’re tangible because they’ve touched you in ways so intimate you could delude yourself in being familiar with them despite how icy their touch is. What draws the line between monster and human? You can't say anymore, not when involuntary sensations and uncontrollable emotions have entangled you with the Fatui, the Fourth Harbinger to be exact, a monster in every right, and yet…

You used to think that the line was cut-throat, a visible drawn etching in the sand–so easy to see when someone passed through. As obvious as their appearance once they've entered through the doorway. It was evident in those that were painted in wretched and jagged scars like their skin was a blank canvas. Perceptible in those that too rarely stifled their brash volatility, taking pride in their bruteness and their trigger-happiness. Apparent in those with their sly-eyed, piercing scrutiny, silent as the dead they were, yet it was usually among these archetypes whose power reigned the most throughout. Discernable in those that can wear many faces, spilling a hundred lies from their lips with as much effort as it takes for them to breathe; typically, they were as inviting as a puppy guiding a lamb to a den of wolves. 

You couldn’t discern anymore what kind of monster Lord Arlecchino matched. Was it that they were never a monster to begin with, or is it just your irrationality muddying what should be the obvious? It should alarm you that your mind doesn't perceive them as such anymore, despite knowing so little of the danger they grasp underneath their fingertips. How quick they were to wrap their hand around your throat, tantalizing you with each scrape of carmine nails against your kiss-bruised skin. 

But monsters are incapable of love. You think you've been fooled in believing in it when they trace your body with their touch, but then again, what monster's touch can be akin to that of an angel’s? Maybe angels themselves were also monsters. It's how you knew they were the most fatal mistake you could have made but you remain unapologetic shamelessly. Why should you, for indulging in something so tasteful? Is it not human desire to be selfish, to satisfy oneself? It's only natural to savor sweet fruit.

Their touch still lingers, on every inch of skin their depraved and gluttonous they could reach, the heat from their contact ever present like bubbling magma underneath the surface. Even after they're gone, it still tingles with sweltering desire and comes with the vivid image of their imprintment on you. How you remembered their wet lips against your neck, teeth sunk in and the rough drag of their tongue across, while their fingers edged closer to the waistband of your fishnets. Oh, how you remembered the delicious grinding of their hips against yours, a coarse friction that sends shocks of pleasure through you as they swallow every wanton cry from your lips and stifle any movements from you with a tight grasp of your waist. As red stained marks were stamped over the expanse of your bare clavicle, you remember a particular sultry chuckle from them when they captured your wrists in one hand effortlessly, willing you unable to touch them even when you had begged to do so. How cruel of them to deprive you of what you so avidly coveted, but you think their touch is rewarding enough to dismiss the one-sidedness of the physical intimacy. 

Though, you hesitate to call it physical intimacy. Somehow, the touches that lit your heart ablaze the most only scrape the surface of indecency, as nothing transpired beyond kisses and love marks. It was the first time you left a private room relatively untouched, and though they had definitely teased you of it, no action slipped lower than your collarbone–not even a single piece of clothing peeled from your body. It leaves an unsettling, complex bundle of desires: wanting more and less of their touch simultaneously: you long for their touch, to feel that addicting fervor again, for your own unchaste gratification, however, having not been used as a tool for sensual fulfillment, you almost find it…nearly comforting–freeing may be the right word. A relief from what was usually an obligation. It’s… strange, is the least you can account it to. You’ve never wanted more from a client. Every past one has been just a means for income, hardly even considered cheap entertainment, and yet… you find your thoughts returning back to them, ensnaring your mind and plaguing your consciousness with memories of your two’s ‘unchastity.’ 

Lord Arlecchino, the Knave, the Fourth Harbinger of the Fatui, stole your thoughts just like a thief in the night, the ghost of their whispered words frequently haunting you. “‘I think I’ll keep you to myself after this,’” they had said with such certainty, and that voice would repeat indefinitely in your ears. For the most inexplicable reason, you found yourself eager, having believed them, however, you quickly discovered how naive you were–foolish to have ever hoped in such a shallow assertion and absurd to have wished for that in the first place. How dim of you to trust words influenced by fleeting ardor, for allowing irrationality to creep up in your vulnerable state of intoxication from them. They had left your body that night, with little to no effort, unsatisfied yet marked by them entirely, remnants of their presence still scattered on your body. How cruel, and yet very characteristic of them, though the latter recognition almost physically burned you to admit. A burn that you couldn’t quite associate one feeling to it. 

You think the feeling is akin to abandonment, maybe betrayal, but you couldn’t fault Arlecchino–not when you were the one to have fallen for their lies. In the heat of the moment, their amorous words had done nothing less but stroke an ember within your body, fueling your own feverish arousal, amplifying your experience, but that was all it was. Abandonment couldn’t be correct, not when you were never theirs in the first place and you had willingly offered yourself to them. Nor can betrayal suit it; there was no foundation of trust built between the two of you either. You should have known that trust, among your clients especially, is as flimsy as a sheet of paper. But what can explain this obstinate hollowness in your chest, unable to be filled no matter how many meaningless acts of intimacy you throw at it, or how many fantasies you’d delude yourself once you're in the solace being underneath your covers? It’s a clawing irritant that occupies your mind when you’ve found yourself alone, seeking for the phantom presence of them.

You miss them–at the very least, their touch–you realize belatedly, and for that you couldn’t consider yourself to be more pathetic. Never before in your experience have you ever thought of a previous client but you suppose every day is an opportunity to discover something new. Attachments were a sure way to kill yourself in this business, in the underground. You had intended on keeping yourself alive, but here you are. How degrading of you, you internally admonished, fool, fool, fool. 

What was it about them that had captivated you so much? Perhaps it was their unique charm. Curt and sharp as they were, you could not help but admit there was something alluring about their words, the authority that dripped from them, instilling you to do nothing but obey them. Perhaps it was their captivating appearance, a masterful and tasteful blend of ruggedness with class, snow white hair adorned with ebony streaks framing their porcelain-like face, but their stature was nothing of that case. Though lean as they were, from the rare prodding touches they allowed you where you could feel their toned physique, you can tell strength and power laid underneath their fingertips; if not from that, then perhaps how easily they nearly suffocated you with one hand alone, or how they had easily hoisted you up and against the wall. The red crossed pupils were nothing like you’ve ever seen and underneath that ever-piercing behold you’re little more than a timid prey before a hungry beast. 

Your interactions with Lord Arlecchino were like being teared by the fangs of a voracious wolf. Every delicate sense–touch, hearing, sight, smell, and taste–pecked away little by little until all you could register in your lust-brimmed mind was their entirety. Sapping away your strength and resistance, impelling you to submit your all to them, through their every feverish touch; deafening your eardrums with each wet noise that followed their lips; dizzying you with their faint, earthy cologne; your eyes drinking in their appearance with every chance; and oh, their sickeningly sweet taste–far too depraved and far too addictive. You’re breathless everytime you think of it. When they finally released you, peeling away from your form, your body looked as if it had just barely escaped a maiming from a wild animal: teeth indents, light scratches, and red blotches of their lipstick flecked your upper torso and face.

They parted from you hours into the early morning. It felt like they had been stealing your breath for hours. You couldn’t count how many times their lips met yours, but it was enough where you could memorize the texture of them, of their warmth and sweetness. You couldn’t recall the duration the two of you spent locked with each others’ lips, but you could recall the various positions they had you. One such position, you muse with clenched thighs, was when they towered above your lying form on the couch, a bent knee in between your legs and their arms on either side of your head, planting their palms onto the cushion underneath you while they descended down to capture kiss after kiss from you. You remembered the tickling sensation of their ivory and raven strands that fell on your cheek, and how you raised a gentle hand to brush them away. In retaliation, what could only be described as something in between a growl and a grunt came from the Harbinger’s throat, one of their hands moved away from its resting place besides your head and clasped with yours, before firmly planting it against the sofa–a clear lesson not to touch them so casually, to which you smiled cheekily. They stole that smile away with little wasted time using a harsh nip on your bottom lip. 

And then, like that, they left. 

A week has gone by–more accurately, six days–since they had last appeared, and in that period, you’ve yet seen them. You worked consecutively, opting to even neglect your free work day, with the hopes of catching a glimpse. Ultimately, however, your efforts bore no fruit; not a single of your customers was the white-haired devilish angel that plagued your thoughts. White-hot shame and crushing disappointment grew with each passing day. The first unspoken word of advice amongst your fellow dancers was that attachments to customers are never worthwhile: even frequent customers disappear, and if you are lucky, you discover why. The reasons ranged from death to simply boredom, but the latter is always the most devastating, an agonizing reminder of how insignificant your life can be. 

You had hoped to consider yourself among the smarter of your coworkers. You thought yourself immune to those follies, impenetrable to the charms and advances of all your customers–none to date had made your heart palpitate the way it did in the Harbinger's presence. It's unfathomable that you allow yourself to sink to such depths, to find yourself coveting for something you shouldn't, for something you can't have, for something that is beyond the likes of you. Convincing yourself with certainty, you were sure that you were above the idea of ardor–percase, your mistake was appraising yourself of just that. Now, you struggle against the very woes your coworkers forewarned you about. 

Lying conscious on your wretched mattress, the cycle of rue repeats internally, battling against the drowsiness from your day's work. The thin and tattered sheets do little to provide you with the warmth you seek, and the lumpy, yet simultaneously, feathersoft pillow fails to ease your neck. The discomfort is only heightened by the darkness that plunges your chamber, like an abyss that's consumed you whole– just like your thoughts.

You urge your mind to settle, to calm a roaring yearning forever left unsatisfied, for even a single minute of slumber but it's futile. Once more, your thoughts drift to your angel donned in scarlet–divine touches and blest hymns. If touching this bit of heaven garners this cruel punishment of eternal desire, then you will cling onto these phantom traces of theirs until the gates of hell swallow you whole. 

Soft, thudding noises approach you from the foot of your bed’s direction. Lifting your gaze to the door, the question comes of whose presence this is. Already having worked your shift, there is the possibility your manager came to you because of a unique request–one that he himself couldn't refuse. A weight manifests in your stomach, unease slinking towards your thoughts; this is your off-time after all and . There’s the foreboding knock on your door, before the knob turns with a click. Your manager walks through, his short, plump silhouette before you–

Your oxygen is teared from your lips, making you breathless as an imposing aura overtakes your entire form, as if gravity grew exponentially stronger just then, pushing down on you with the goal of crushing you until nothingness. Your lungs burn from the deprivation of air and a prickling sensation coats your skin, the combined effect making you tremble like a meek sheep before prey. Their footsteps as they enter your dwelling increases the pressure on your shoulders, forcing you to shrink into yourself. This commanding presence is far from being foreign, there are only a few customers–mafia members–that come to mind that can inflict this kind of dominion. Frozen in place, your heart quickly halts as your sight takes in the person before you, a dawning recognition falls upon you: this isn’t your manager. Instead, what replaces him, is a taller, leaner stature, vaguely familiar but distinctly not him. Plunged in darkness, you couldn’t discern any more details, and the unknown identity induces every hair on your limbs to stand up. 

And yet, despite the unrest that forms inside of you, for an inexplicable reason, there comes a lilt in your heart, your roseate thoughts returning to one individual with a dire need. 

The person makes no movements nor noise, but they are certainly aware of your presence. They remain in place near the doorway, as if prompting you for any action. Yet you’re too unsure, too cautious to act. With each passing second of silence, the air thickens, making it increasingly harder to not sink into the covers of your bed and allow your blanket to swallow you whole. Disbelief settles within you as the two of you linger in silence. Your whirling thoughts start to justify those doubts, crushing that meager hope inside of you. It is not them, because you have been deceived, tossed aside like a broken doll, no longer of entertainment or use to them; abandoned by someone who never truly considered you as theirs in the first place. 

Still, you couldn’t discern the reason for the palpitation of your heart at that moment–isit out of fear or anticipation? Likely, it's a combination of both. It hums in your ear, your pulse faint but tangible and steady, and a chill crawls up your spine, eliciting you to tremble in place like a mouse about to be preyed upon. Becoming more certain that they are not the Harbinger, terror worms into your mind and inflicts upon your heart. Your heart rate skyrockets as if the beating organ is thumping out of your chest, deafening you with nothing but the erratic drumming. Have they come to end you? Have you displeased a customer so much that they intend to make you repay the price with your life?

It is a simple utterance. It is a single word that echoes through the room, one syllable that rings through your ears. And yet, it is this sound that rips your heart from a cold, drowning, lonely abyss and plunges it into the warm, welcoming depths of a familiar company. It shreds any lingering doubt within you like claws would to paper, eradicating it as if it was nothing more than a miniscule pest. In your veins does your pulse sing, humming a delightful hymn, the returning sensation of warmth fills you. Had you been anyone else besides yourself viewing this, you would call it a pathetic sight, but in this whisper of time, a wild inferno of your desires is lit and swarms over your mind. With just one simple utterance, you had turned from a scared, cornered mouse into an awaiting puppy–tail wagging and ears perked–for its approaching owner.  

“Doll.” 

You know of that voice far too well, for only having heard of it for one night. A persistent, almost tantalizing voice that creeps into your dreams at all hours of the day, murmuring with an alluring lilt the same pet name in your ear like the Harbinger had done six nights prior. It is the voice of a seraph under the guise of a demon. And when an ethereal being beckons you, you have no other obligation but to respond. 

“Sir?” The softest of whispers escape you, bated breath evident in your voice. You worry that the barely audible title doesn't reach their ears, but then the soft thumping of stilettos reverberate through the room, matching the pace of your rapid heart, nearing you, until they appear by your bedside. Upclose, you swear that red x’s glint dimly.  An obscure shadow casts over you and the silhouette of a hand reaches out; their palm grazes against your throat as slender fingers seize your chin to tilt your head up–a familiar hold that involuntarily soothes you given the sigh you release. 

“I told you, didn't I?” They say with an alluring lilt, a telling sign of a smirk on their features. They stroke their thumb over your bottom lip, before pressing down. Involuntarily, your tongue peeks out to lap at their thumb pad. Your cheeks swarm with an unbearable calidity, which spreads to the rest of your body, suffocating flames that scorch your entirety. 

“I said that I'd keep you as mine. Or did you forget?” 

Forgetting their words was as plausible as you learning how to fly. You stopped yourself from carelessly revealing how their discrete promise haunts your ears, ringing through your thoughts at any spontaneous minute; you had no desire of disclosing just how much of an influence they have on you–whether that was to persuade them or yourself more. Instead you offer them a wordless shake of your head.

Arlecchino lets out a content hum, before their hand slides down from your chin to your arm, grasping it with a bit of firmness. 

“Come with me, Doll. Such a quality doll such as yourself deserves a suitable dollhouse, is that not right? This,” You assume that they gesture to the room from the shuffle of clothes. “is hardly fitting for you, the sad state that it is.” 

Your heart beat falters for a moment, as contemplation befalls you, attempting to properly comprehend their words. You surmise that the Harbinger is offering you for a new accommodation but you ponder the cost–surely, they would not provide it out of the goodness of their heart, and you were uncertain if they even held such a thing. As delightful as they are, forgetting your place in relation to others will only spell hazard for you. A ‘doll'–whatever that pertains to–is the service they likely seek from you, and you have a few estimates as to what it is. 

It's dreadfully tempting. A chance to escape from your current workplace, but what of your wellbeing? At least, here, you could sustain yourself, shelter, food, and warmth are provided, but could you expect the same with the Harbinger? If you were to come with them, would you only be pulled deeper into the underground? Was the mafia a company you wanted to linger around? As you continue to swat back the clouds of infatuation, rationality returning to you, there are too many unknowns to recklessly comply with. Then again, what would the Harbinger do to you, if you were to refuse them? For now, you're in their favor, but who is to say you will not lose it in some erratic way? 

Perhaps they will grow bored of you. Perhaps you won't satisfy them enough. Or, perhaps, they have even more nefarious intentions. The mind of a criminal is fickle and, more often than not, unstable, and in the first place, such individuals are rarely credible. If they were to promise beneficial conditions for your being, there is no way to ensure they keep to their word. Your debt, at the very least, serves as a form of protection: the nitery wouldn't be able to work you until they regain every penny you borrowed if you were dead. Arlecchino, however? They have no need to.

“You must be reconsidering my offer. That's to be expected, of course,” Arlecchino interrupts your train of thought, not a single break from their calculated way of words; it almost makes you shiver at how well they seem to read you. It truly is no wonder why they’re the fourth among the Harbingers, they truly are cunning. Do they have something to offer you for additional encouragement? 

“I have no doubt that some unfortunate circumstance must have brought you to an establishment like this. With that knowledge, hm…” Arlecchino pauses, before you feel their hand leaves your arm. The darkness of the room provides little information on what they're doing, until one of their coarse hands slides underneath your palm, lifting it slightly. Cool metal slides over your left thumb. 

“This…”

“Yes, it's a ring,” the mafia leader confirms. “More specifically, it is my ring.” 

You trace your right thumb over the ring, feeling some sort of round jewel over it. Underneath your thumb pad, is a small etching, which you trace. 

“From now on, this ring is yours. While it's not visible as of right now, etched onto it is the symbol of the Tsaritsa. It symbolizes my Harbinger status,” they continue, and you whip your attention towards them.

“Why would–” You halt yourself before you say anything impulsive. “Thank you for this, Sir, but… if it is of such significance…” 

“–why am I giving this to you? Consider this an investment. Here is my preposition to you. Come with me, and you will be fed, sheltered, and spoiled by me–my protection and overseeing of your health is, undoubtedly implied. If you are displeased with my treatment, you can leave freely, anytime, anywhere, and nothing will be asked of you–not so much as an explanation for your departure. In fact, at this very moment, you could leave right now. I will not stop you.

“The ring, being the mark of a Harbinger, will almost certainly protect you from anyone sensible enough not to touch those under the Tsaritsa’s grace. Beyond that, you could always sell it to a trustworthy jewelry inspector; I know of one if you need a reference. I guarantee you that what you will earn is enough for you to live comfortably in society for at least a decade or so.” 

“You would…” You stop to recollect your thoughts, as your body shakes, brimming with thrill. Your mind is still trying to encompass all of the capabilities this very ring contained. It may very well be worth ten times your entire life, and yet you possessed something such as this. With this, you could leave your hellish life behind. Everything you have always wanted could be right in your grasp now. You could finally enjoy a luxurious life, just by yourself. 

“You would really give this to me? Something so precious?” You question breathlessly. 

“Yes. If you would consider my preposition. So?” 

A beguiled smile makes its way onto your lips. 

—

The existence of monsters should not comfort you, but yet it does. No, that is wrong–there is just one exception. Having heard of such hushed stories, warning you to be wary of such shadowy beasts, the ones that lurk in unsuspecting corners and stalk the most innocuous of lambs, nonetheless, the notion of who can be considered as a ‘monster’ has been shattered by one individual. A monster in every right, except in any respect to you, can a diabolical angel still be deemed as such? Do they deserve to bear such a title, when every breath exhaled sends welcomed shivers down your spine and every contacted surface is blessed under their touch? 

Perhaps you are still one of those very lambs for them. There is the possibility that you are just another sheep ensnared by a charming wolf, but then it raises the question of why you haven't been devoured yet. You have no doubt of the appetite that such a beast like them would carry, but nonetheless you remain. Will your time for slaughter come? Like herded sheep, you're fenced in, grazing through the grassland placidly, but how much longer will your freedom and life extend? 

Does it still make you a sheep, if the most miniscule, internal sector of you would indulge in being devoured? 

It's something you could not help yourself from wondering, even with the graciousness from Arlecchino. They've taken care of you far better than the nitery had ever, in the span of the few weeks you've agreed to stay with them, serving as their ‘doll.’ As restrictive and degrading as the role sounds, actuality does not propose the same. You're still tied to the Fourth Fatui Harbinger–come when they beckon, obey what they will–but you have a daunting amount of individual freedom you previously could never afford. Necessities, such as a living space, meals, and clothing, are all provided, lavishly, unlike your previous work environment. 

Arlecchino personally had a room selected for you, a sizable, decorated chamber that housed a Queen bed, along with an ensuite bathroom. Restful sleep comes easy to you now that you've acquired a plush bed that dwarfs your figure. You've been spoiled with not only nourishing, but delectable dishes that you've never encountered before. Not only that, but they were made and served by personal chefs of the Harbinger. Upon arriving at your new accommodation, your wardrobe was brimming with all types of clothing that was suited to your size in all sorts of colors. 

Perhaps it is because you haven't received such treatment before, but if you had such audacity to assume, you would compare yourself to that of a monarch's favored consort. 

Your work as a ‘doll’ doesn't consist of much–that is what makes it more perplexing to you. It's not like any job or gig–you're not paid but it is no less rewarding. A ‘doll,’ from what you can presume with what they've requested of you, is a sexual partner, for when they're in need of ‘relief.’ Though you'd like for your relationship with Arlecchino to be perfectly encapsulated as just that, even that fails to entail entirely of what it is. This statement comes apparent with the case that you've yet engaged with them intimately.

You cannot deny that with this comes brewing frustration and consolation inside of you. 

In the few weeks having lived at the same residence as them, which also doubles as a base of operations for the Fatui, there's quite a few things you learn of the Knave. Their assertive presence alone commands the room upon entering, and it is felt by every single soul in their proximity. Apathetically and brutally effective is how they function, no matter their audience, though strangely you are an exception to that. Stoic as they are in every aspect of their life–whether that handling mafia matters or simply eating–they have shown acts of mercy and repayment towards their subjects, especially the younger ones underneath them. Requital seems to be one of their core values, a quality that is often paired with their demand for control. Just as they oversee all around them, they themselves are not beyond their charge.

You see the discrete conflict in their eyes before each press of their lips against yours, and in their twitching fingers, which tremble in the same reluctant manner as yours does, always lingering around your waist. Every kiss is greedy and ravenous, with the intention of stealing every bit of morality within you as they draw you in, but their touch is notably neither of the two. The Fourth Harbinger exercises an awkward balance between restraint and surrender of desires–as if they craved further connection from you, but you dare not to assume so flatteringly of yourself. For this reason alone, you do not question the Knave, but it is no less vexing. 

Beasts like themselves do not hold themselves back. They are voracious and all-consuming, they are merciless and eager in their plunders, second to none in selfishness and brutality. If Arlecchino is truly among them, then their behavior proves to only be baffling. If you cannot expect the worst from them like all monsters are, then what can you predict from them? For what reason do they restrain themselves? Why would they limit themselves when they have more than enough authority and force to take what they desire. You wish you could know, if only to end this constant, frustrating game of desire that you are losing. 

You don't understand the casual gestures that imply something more romantic if you didn't know better. The invitations to dinner, the outings with them, the chaste kisses and fleeting touches. In each interaction, you have to remind yourself of your status–that you still hold little value, no matter the change of management, and at every drop of dawn, when you lie alone in your bed, that hollow ache sweeps over you and engulfs you whole into a riptide. What more use are you than entertainment just as empty as yourself? 

Still, it is irrefutable that you hold a certain attraction to them. You covet for their contact and gaze to loiter over the expanse of your body, for their voice to always ring through your ears, for the time between the two of you to stretch past infinity; it soon occured to you that something lies deeper than just lust for the Harbinger, something you did not want to acknowledge but it has prolonged since after the first night you met them. Though Arlecchino does not place a label on the relationship, even for as foolish and swayed as you are, you could not dream beyond the contacts that hold no significance or the words that contain no promises. The knowledge of this places a heavy ache in your chest, one that pings every now and then with every meeting with the Harbinger. Knowing how futile it is, a part of yourself wants to strangle these yearnings, so that all that is choked out is a shallow, physical urge, and you no longer drown in the abyss that is Arlecchino.

It is only natural that when you harbor such complexities towards them, sexual desires, too, are a part of said twisted conglomeration of hazy emotions and affections. How many times were you in need of relief, murmuring out their name as you intensified your movements in between your legs, only to be left empty and disgruntled? If you had to give an estimate, it would be a dozen or so times. While your circumstance could no longer be judged by typical morality, the very act of yearning feels sinful, a wrongdoing, a refutal of your values. No lamb lusts over a wolf, after all, but this knowledge doesn't lessen the ache.  

So, like the meek sheep that you are, you say nothing, even when Arlecchino once again requests your presence for dinner–through a relayed message from their subordinate of course. You wonder if they're aware of the very effects they imposed on you, how the simple act of inviting you to dinner makes both your heart swim and sink simultaneously.

You knock on their office door, waiting for permission until you're asked inside. You enter with a brief awed gasp, greeted by the usual suited appearance of Arlecchino. They sit behind their desk and donning a stark midnight blazer, over an ash-colored and blood-crimson vest paired with a matching loose tie underneath the collar of their white buttoned dress shirt. A lit cigarette is perched between their lips and a pair of black reading glasses nestled on the bridge of their nose. Upon your entrance, they reach up, wrenching the cigarette from their mouth to snuff it out, rubbing the butt of the stick against the ashtray beside them.  

Near instantaneously, your stomach coils with an insufferable fervor, and you had to suppress the urge to squeeze your thighs, unless you wanted their observant eye to notice. You avert your gaze from the handsome sight to hide your flustered expression. Unfortunately, your efforts are in vain when in the corner of your eye, the ends of their frown twitch. 

They instruct you to sit at the chair across from theirs with the motion of their eyes, and you take your seat at their desk, two plates of food sitting on the wooden surface. 

“You have no issue with shellfish, do you?” Arlecchino inquires, their eyes scanning over your figure for any objections. 

“Not that I know of, sir,” you answer. The mafia leader pushes a glass with a crimson liquid in it–wine, you presume. You take it. Arlecchino is an avid wine lover from what you've discerned during past dinners; although you've done this quite a few times, the thought is dizzying of how you're holding a wine that's more than likely a thousand dollars per bottle. Like with all the previous privileges the Harbinger gifted you, this is yet again another lucrative item. It only makes you wonder to what extent the Fatui's influence goes to be able to afford such expenses on ordinary things. You swirl the drink in your hand before taking a tentative sip. Each time you drink, it’s akin to dumping gold into the sea–wasted extravagance on the likes of you. 

The wine sours the taste in your mouth but you don't make it apparent. 

Dinner remains an awkward constant, nearly unnerving. You tether between the line of being cautious and being casual. Their methodical brutalism discourages small talk from them–given the fact that they favor intention and meaningful gestures–seeming perfectly content in the silence while you stew in chagrin. With this comes their manner of eating. They eat robotically, as if the gourmet foreign meals are nothing but nourishment, and perhaps such trivialities are of no matter to them, only further emphasizing the stark statuses of you two. Their request, however, made them seem almost eager–as eager as one could possibly be for someone so stoic– given how they requested for your presence as soon as possible. Perhaps what they look most earnestly for is observing you. You're torn between thinking they enjoy your discomfort underneath their gaze, or simply find you that fascinating. Either of them escape common reasoning. 

You opt to just eat with your head down to avoid their piercing gaze throughout your meal, the only noise filling the room is the clinking of metal utensils. Struggling with removing the lobster meat from its tail, you fumble with the fork, an abashment swelling in your cheeks with the knowledge that Arlecchino was most definitely observing your tactlessness. You’ve never had shellfish prior to your stay with Arlecchino, and that was more pronounced by your lackluster attempts of stripping the shrimp shell. You attempted to learn through observation of Arlecchino, who utilizes cutlery with their typical efficiency and gracefulness. Even in the simple act of eating, they are refined in their precise and minimal movements. Unfortunately for you, that poise cannot be obtained through just viewing. 

A pale hand extends and rests on top of your hand holding the fork, the sudden contact ripping you from your thoughts and your shoulders tense. Glancing up from the shellfish, Arlecchino's ever so puncturing gaze is set on you. The thumping organ in your chest pauses for a beat once your eyes lock, manifesting a silence between the two of you. There is not a hint of irritance in their expression, and perhaps you are mistaken, but there is the gleam of amusement in their pupils. 

“Allow me,” they finally voice, their tone on the edge of venomous allure, and you could only comply immediately. Placing down the cutlery onto the plate and pulling your hands away, you expect for them to pick up the silverware again. Instead, they firmly hold down the lobster tail with one hand, the other hand pinching the succulent flesh before shredding it effortlessly from the shell with their. Such an uncouth movement that almost seems unfitting from the Harbinger, however, simultaneously, you cannot see their crude method out of place. The chunk of meat is then dipped in the aioli. 

“Open,” Arlecchino commands, and you swallow thickly, your mouth inexplicably arid in a single moment. Once again, your easily influenced heart pounds resoundingly in your ears, no doubt induced by the most miniscule of moments from the Harbinger. Their red-crossed pupils stab into you, expectancy in them, wordlessly urging you. You open your mouth and they lift the piece of lobster to your lips, sliding their fingers and the shellfish flesh inside. You clamp down on the flesh while Arlecchino fishes out her digits, pulling away with glistening liquid on the tips of her index and thumb. 

The sight makes your stomach flutter with a sensation unlike any other, an inferno emerges in your pit paired with an indisputable throbbing between your legs that makes you clench your hands into fists–a desperate attempt for restraint of your impulses. Cheeks flared from both arousal and humiliation of your indecent thoughts, you mindlessly chew on the meat, absentmindedly staring at the Harbinger while combating the vulgarity within your mind. Your liberated imagination reacts, substituting the fluid for something of a similar look that originates from a different orifice, before you banish the impurities away, remediate your thrashing heart before it threatens to collapse in itself. Finally, you swallow a bit of shellfish down your throat. 

Arlecchino hums, satisfied, before they probe your lips with their slick fingers, intent, almost predatory, gaze upon you, and their pupils glint with a faint crimson. 

“Clean them,” they order, and oh, if they knew what those two words do to you. Hot spikes of arousal pricks you everywhere in your body, and your loins grow damper, pulsing with need. 

You part your lips obediently as they insert two of their fingers. Your warm, moist mouth wraps around them. The pads of their fingers press firmly against your tongue, and compliantly, you drag the slimy surface of your organ on the undersides, lapping at the faint taste of lobster with remnants of the aioli, before swirling your tongue around to coat the entirety with your saliva. A disgusting moist squelch flees from your mouth as you continue the ministrations of your tongue, gentle and deliberate traces to make sure that their fingers are properly cleansed. 

A sudden idea comes to you, a dose of boldness injected into your veins as you continue locking their eyes with them. If they are so amused by your performance, then surely they would enjoy a little show? You silently wish for the mafia leader's grace before you act– perhaps you'd be forgiven? Better yet, you hope that you will be rewarded. They're acutely aware of the mischief in your eyes when their eyebrows lift, but you do not allow them to anticipate for long. 

You hollow your cheeks and suction around their fingers while intensifying your tongue's movements. To add to it, you lean forward, slipping their fingers deeper until your lips reach the base of their final knuckle, nearly gagging from your impulsive action. Still, it does not dissuade you, and you continue your behavior, aware this very gesture was the epitome of playing with fire. More slick sounds erupt from your suggestive acts. 

You scrutinize their facial expression for their reaction in an attempt to gauge their response, and quite notably, their pupils are darkened. Instead of the previous ruby hue, they are now a deep scarlet, bordering on maroon, and are brimming with an emotion so intense you feel as though you could be devoured whole just by their dark abysses. Their usually maintained and composed face is cracked by the parted lips of theirs, as if they were in awe of your impudence, and the slightest knit in between their brows, implying more than their regular apathy. You have drawn their attention just as you wanted, but now you fear the consequences. 

“Feeling bold, are we, doll?” They murmur in a low, tantalizing purr as they extract their fingers from you with a wet pop, and you nearly whine from the loss of contact. A dribble of spit escapes from the corner of your lips and they wipe it away with their thumb. Their middle and index finger gleam enticingly as your slaver drips down. Bringing their hand to their lips, they reward you with their own show, a slow deliberate act of tracing their fingers with their own tongue, their attention still fixated on you throughout its entirety. Watching the organ's motions further stirs the boiling desire in your groin. The Harbinger never fails to tempt you, provoking a visceral reaction from you with just the minutest gesture. 

They must know. They must know how deeply influenced you are by them. You make your allure to them unmistakable, their actions signify their awareness, and they use this to further taunt you, to further bait you into their trap. For what reason, you're not privy to, but they prey upon your desire for them, stringing you along on for their entertainment. Are they aware that this game is comparable to torture to you? Like dangling fresh greens in front of a dying, starved lamb, your ache is palpable to only you. To long for something that you cannot. It is tormenting and demeaning, though maybe that is suitable for a monster. 

A devil in the guise of an angel truly. Maybe they are purely enjoying your suffering, knowing that your every action can only be done by their whim. You have fallen in their hands, utterly dependent and reliant on them but no less grateful. A deceived sheep in the claws of a cackling wolf. It is a game to them, you are just a toy, and you would be foolish to think otherwise. So expectedly cruel, and yet it crushes your heart. You are tired of the charades, of your affections hardly acknowledged and no doubt unreciprocated, and you are tired of how their presence plagues your thoughts entirely. They are eager to use you just as they had always wanted, a ‘doll,’ something willing to twist and bend to their desires. 

You wish that you are more than just a doll. That your skin is not made of plastic, that your limbs are not so manipulatable, that the attire that you wear cannot be so easily altered based on the spontaneous desires of someone else. You do not want to take only what you've been given. Is it hopeless, brazen, to want more despite your place? Does it make you nothing more than simple-minded and naive, to wish that their touch expressed beyond the voraciousness and obscenity? 

“Did you enjoy it?” Arlecchino pries you away from your thoughts, and you flick your eyes towards them. Blinking, you finally recall the context, and fumble with your words.

“Ah, uh, yes,” you stammer, forcing a small smile, berating yourself for your blundering response. “The lobster was great. Thank you so much, Sir.”

Their pupils still remain on you, hardened with their usual frigid gaze. “Then why do you appear so downcast? Is the meal not to your liking? I will make sure the chefs prepare something else for you.” 

Your blood freezes and you go wide-eyed. Of course, they would notice your absent-mindedness, you have still yet controlled your emotions. Reprimanding yourself internally, the desire to scream out boils within you, like a pot that threatens to boil over–you want to exclaim that they are the reason you are like this, why you are in a constant state of conflict and anguish, why your heart can never rest when their presence is near. Instead, you find your throat caught in a trap, preventing any words from escaping, and any voice you try to grapple slips through your fingers. The very notion of requesting for more is insolent; had they not provided you enough? Ingrate is what you would be if you vocalize anything. 

Shaking your head, you reply with, “No, it's okay. There was nothing wrong with my meal. I was just preoccupied with my thoughts for a little bit, I apologize, sir.” 

“Please inform me what it was that was entertaining you for so long.” The implore leaves their lips as they tilt their head, propping their elbow against the table and leaning their cheek into their palm. Their attention is utterly consumed by you. 

Your lip quivers. So many unspokens lay on your tongue, awaiting for an emergence that never comes. ‘You’ is the most dire utterance, but you bite your tongue and purse your lips. Flitting your eyes down to your finished plate, you avoid their boring gaze which drills right through your skull, and manage to note your arms, which are dotted with the occasional burn scar–courtesy of the more unsavory customers–an agonizing momento of how filthy you are, sullied by many before. How you could compare to a doll is unfathomable to you. A doll's skin is not tainted, marked with signs of impurities. Even their touch, as angelic as it, could not cleanse your surface, why would they dare engage with you? 

“Trivial matters, sir,” you respond with, unable to admit the snaking insecurity up your spine, that would only have them throw you away. You gather that insecurity had no place in the Harbinger's home, that needless feelings were to be disposed of immediately. Searching their features at any hint of persuasion, their blank stare offers nothing to you. The mafia leader picks up their glass of wine, lifting it up to their lips for a sip. 

The, the glass is placed firmly on the wooden surface of the table, accompanied by a loud thud, the abruptness causing you to flinch back; your entire form taut as every fiber in your being tightens, your heart rate reverberates in your eardrums, and a cold shiver sneaks over your back. 

“Do you take me as someone so easily deceived?” They demanded, their voice instilled with cutting authority, sharper than any knife as it stabs into your gut. The lit fury in their eyes is enough to make you recoil in your seat, shrinking into yourself as if you could become small enough to disappear, and underneath their scrutiny that is all you want to do. You tore your eyes away from them, the weight of their burning stare unbearable, almost with the intention of cremating you in the very chair. A part of you wishes that were the case, if only to flee from the crisis you are now a part of, only caused by your idiocy. 

The Fatui Harbinger, for how generous they've been to you, is no less deadly, and perhaps you’ve had a healthy dosage of dismissing apparent hazards when it comes to them. Whether it be due to Arlecchino's unique charm and ambiguous benevolence, or your stubborn child-like innocence–the one that still yearns for affection and company in a cruel world–that refuses to yield, subconsciously, you knew that you would never truly be safe. No amount of self-delusion masked by wishful thinking could ever make that fruition, it will not erase the fact that your life balances on the careful palms of an awaiting wolf, whose intentions are mysterious. Nonetheless, this moment creates a no more nauseating moment that strikes your gut and fills your head with a haziness that is as oppressive as it is harrowing.

You hardly believe that you can lie once more–for all that you are aware of, Arlecchino may punish you with your death for disobeying–though with the imminent danger you’re still conflicted. You wanted to drown your fondness for them in the sea of your consciousness, anchor the hefty mass so that it could never resurface, no matter how much it struggles to swim. Complying with the mafia leader's demand means plunging your hands into the water and unlocking the chains, letting the emotions swim beyond your reach and leaving you stranded in the midst of riptides and storms. If it meant many more years without turbulent waters, then you'd never unchain them, because that is the only way to stay afloat. 

But dying due to the fear of rejection is truly a pathetic way to go, even to the likes of your already pathetic existence, isn't it? You’d like to pride yourself as above those standards, at the very least. However, unveiling your naive attachment to them is unfavorable. Whatever may come from defiance, you are not sure it is worth condemning yourself to, not for someone seemingly as volatile as they are. 

Perhaps you could still spare your buried endearment as well–twist and mangle your words until what the Fourth Harbinger knew was only the mishap-twin of the authentic version. Let them misinterpret and craft their own figment to be as far-fetched yet close from the truth as possible. Paint over and ornament your hopeless ardor until it is unrecognizable to the artist and only that. Half-truths and omission sculpted into something believable in the eyes of Arlecchino. 

“You,” you declare simply, looking up back at them with a poor imitation of their repose. “It was you, Sir.” 

Arlecchino stews in silence, although not visibly, you could presume that they have some amount of shock from your words, and the questions in their head. Their eyes darkened slightly, like dark abysses preparing to consume you whole if you so much as misstep once.

“For what reason?” 

Gulping considerably, you pull together your resolve and start. You look up to meet their steady gaze. “A quality doll requires proper care and maintenance right? Like when you said that a quality doll needed a fitting dollhouse.” 

Their hand reaches for their wine glass again.“Yes, that is true.”

“But a quality doll is wasted if it is not played with properly.”

Arlecchino breaks away their stare to intake their wine, a longer sip than their usual. “Are you implying that you are not satisfied with my treatment, Doll?” 

“No. No, I am not satisfied.” You wince at your direct response, but you are not left with any other option–you can only pray that Arlecchino doesn’t take offense to it.

“Greedy,” the Harbinger remarks as they place down the drink. “But perhaps there is some merit to it. You are right: It is my responsibility to take care of my things and it seems that I've been neglecting you.”

They flit their eyes to your plate. “Are you finished eating?” 

“Ah, yes?” You stumble over your words, a bit on edge now that their inquiry implied they had more in plan with you. It is not out of the question, though typically when they did invite you to meals like this, they would dismiss you to do what you wish afterwards, sending you away with a drawn out kiss. You're yet able to know what to make of your current situation. It required little words to gain what you wanted from the Haringer: more attentive treatment from them without the implication of your desires, so easily accepted by them. Maybe then, you wishfully 

They rise from their chair, removing their reading glasses and setting it on the surface of the desk. Strangely enough, they take their wine with them. 

“Sir?” You question as your eyes follow their movement. They maneuver around their desk, heading towards the door. 

“Follow,” they state, though there is no real urgency or demand for it, more like a suggestion. They turn their head over their shoulder, examining you–testing you, you guess–and how could you deny? You trial them after them, with an enthusiasm which you hate having to compare that to an anxious puppy. The two of you exit the office, and you’re guided to an adjacent room, this one you've never been to before, nor has ever seen its content. Since your time here, it's remained secured and you've yet seen a single soul enter. 

You're not quite sure what you expect when Arlecchino leads you inside but it certainly is not a bedroom. Nonetheless, that is what is presented to you. Simultaneously sleek and modest, adorned in splashes of black, red, and white–a color palette you associate with just one individual–it is the epitome of sophistication without bordering on extravagance and a starking reminder of the presence beside you.

For some reason, it never occurred to you that Arlecchino necessitated slumber. Perhaps since you've always considered them something else entirely, something beyond human, you feel what borders on astonishment with the discovery that, indeed, the Fourth Harbinger does sleep. To say that it humanized them in your eyes is a stretch, but it is a signifier that they are not as infallible and unfeasible as you believe. 

The implications of being guided to their bedroom, however, also creates havoc among your thoughts, and your ears all but physically singe from your mortification. Vulgar fantasies invade your mind, with images of your nude body tangled together in the satin gray sheets with varying positions. Your heart, the fickle and persistent thing that is pulipates again, pumping through your ears. The setting only enforces your wanton imagination, exacerbating its control over your mind. The delusions become not just visual, but auditory and haptic too–their whispered, husky voice murmuring sweet promises in your ear as their nails trail lower and lower from your stomach, their fingers exploring uncharted territory.

Choosing that the best course of action would be to ignore the astir depravities, you instead propose a question to the mafia member as they allow you to enter the chamber first. 

“This is… your bedroom, my Lord?” you question anxiously, taking the time to observe the room as the Fourth Harbinger enters behind you. “How come you've brought me here?” 

“I am not fond of letting blunders remain as it is for long, less of all those that are my own fault,” Arlecchino answers, the shutting of the door momentarily interrupting them. “If it can be helped, oversights must be corrected immediately. Let problems fester for too long, and they may grow beyond my control.” 

You note that it's a rather vague response. As you turn around to further confront them, there is the sudden and firm tug of your arm, and far quicker than your mind can comprehend, you're whirled around and pressed against the surface behind you. You suck in harshly from the rapid movement and an arm besides one side of your head locks you in your place, sandwiched between the door and Arlecchino with no exit available. 

Flaring crimson irises meet your vision, inky pits brimming with what could only be described as a fervor drill into you. Wildly, your heartbeat thuds against your ribcage, your breath effectively robbed by the towering being before you. Below your skin, exhilaration floods through your veins, spreading the incessant heat through your entire form, most especially to your loins. Their hot breath skims across your inflamed cheeks, and their lips only stray a few centimeters from yours. 

Involuntarily, your focus darts to their enticing mouth, which tastes like the finest of wine–so extraordinarily sweet that it is intoxicating. A flavor that keeps drawing you in, making you an alcoholic as you drink yourself dizzy from a sip, then another. And you would do anything for just another sample. You want Arlecchino to consume your entirety, your taste buds, your consciousness, your senses, surrender every part of you if it means gaining the most miniscule pieces of themselves. A plea rests on your tongue and in your wide, crinkled eyes you make your intentions clear. 

Wordlessly, you beg for them to devour you like the monster that they are. Lure you in with their touch again, which they know burns every single rational thought away and spreads a relish that feels like a religious blessing. Take you, if only for a single second, because a second will always be sufficient enough until the next, when you cannot help but wish for it sooner. 

“Do you desire me?” They speak, as if the answer is not apparent. As if the evidence is not in your trembling body, bristling with elation, or in your needy hands, which all but reach out to grasp them closer. As if they are not aware of the effects of their numerous taunts, how they fluster you enough to force you to glance away or stumble over your speech. They are aware of it as well as you are and it is with this that you realize the insinuation of their question, and this understanding is what evokes the hitching of your breath. They ask for confirmation, for approval–for consent. 

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, no need to expend more words for something so simple. How else could you answer otherwise? 

Arlecchino does not grant you the kiss you so very much desire. Instead, they maneuver one of the arms propped against your head, their hand cups your chin with a tenderness so unlike them, and their thumb grazes over your bottom lip. Their gaze becomes entranced, fixated on your mouth. 

“Given your past employment, I was under the assumption that any gesture more sensual would unease you. For that reason, I was hesitant to initiate more. After all, nothing is more unpleasant than an unwilling toy, who does not desire to be played with. My oversight, however, has affected you adversely, which I hope to fix currently.”

Flicking their hardened stare to your eyes again, they add, “If you will allow me.” 

Stupefaction befalls upon you, your mouth parts as you grasp onto the new information. If their words are true, then it means that your attraction to them is mutual, not one-sided, and their established distance was out of consideration for you. The thought is more than enough to spark giddiness within you. The Harbinger may not be so inaccessible as you previously thought, perhaps your affections could reach them. 

They hardly seem so monstrous as they did three weeks ago. Maybe they never were one to begin with. Your elated-addled brain can hardly produce a coherent string of thoughts, leaving you to only feebly nod. 

That is enough as a response for Arlecchino as they descend upon you, slotting their lips over yours in a way that can only be described as perfection. Their lips drains you of your oxygen, but were you capable of it, you would allow them to steal every part of you with their perfect mouth. The succulent flavor of them remains constant, delectable as they were on the first night you met the Harbinger, and even after the numerous kisses you've shared, they are just as intoxicating. You briefly wonder if you're only drunk off of their taste because of the taste of aged wine still abundant on their lips. Arlecchino swallows you up into an eternal riptide of their taste, and you willingly drown, surrendering the rest of your senses to delight in this. 

This is the type of sensation that comes from dancing around a demon, the sort of feeling that makes such heartache involving the fallen angel all the more worthwhile yet agonizing; it serves to only lure you further in its trap that you can't fathom escaping from. Now, your body buzzing with an elation that can't be matched by another, all you can wonder is how you've been able to live this long without this very gesture that breathes back life through your veins and makes your heart swell with vitality. With this, you believe this is the pinnacle of your life–no other experience that can quite enrapture you like this–a phantom ache finally filled, finally whole. 

Half-lidded eyes with crimson x's lock on yours, and you think you may have rediscovered your favorite color. 

You lift your arms over their shoulders and fold them behind the mafia leader, locking them in place. With a gentle tug forward with your arms, they lean deeper into your kiss, and a deep grunt rumbles through their chest, inducing goosebumps over your skin. Meanwhile, your fingers card through their silky, snow-colored strands, tugging lightly as you moan softly against their lips. Something warm settles on your right cheek, cupping that side of your face delicately. 

The rough texture of their tongue presses against your lips, before their lips latch onto your bottom one. They suckle with such a gingerness you forget about the depraved hunger behind their x-pupils, a plea for permission, for entry which you allow instantly. You part your mouth. With a fevered haste, their tongue slips into your orifice, and you let out a throaty groan. It invokes a rumbling through their throat, a sound that must have belonged from seraphs. They urge on, exploring the contours of your mouth with the intent of diligently memorizing the relish and texture. Committed to familiarizing themselves with every crevice and curve, they scrape their tongue against yours, before prodding gently deeper, grazing the roof of your mouth. 

In turn, you playfully drive your tongue forward, caressing against the bottom of their flexible organ. A pleased hum resounds through them, the reverberation making you shudder delightfully. Your body feels like it's being swarmed with an oppressive heat, willpower and sanity suffocating under the mafia leader's every action, and every thought replaced with the stabbing desire that courses through your veins. Every second that they linger, an invisible string tugs you towards their direction with the lightest pressure, and you’re once more in their neatly filed claws. 

Is it really sending a lamb to the slaughter when the lamb is willing, or when the wolf is so inviting? 

The lack of swelter is palpable once they suddenly break away, and you realize belatedly the lack of air in your lungs. You heave for air, and Arlecchino does the same, every brief exhale tickling your cheeks. Silence, save for your rapid breathing, fills the room, but the mutual eye contact says more than enough between you two. 

“Do you want to…?” The Harbinger inquires, their words halting into a tense silence, vigilantly examining your features. 

“Please,” is all you could whisper out, as if that very word carried your entire soul with it, and the singular murmur shatters the being before you. Just a second ago, what stood before you was a person of authority and restraint. Arlecchino was esteemed among the Harbingers, a mortal representation of poise and dignity. Never before has their composure faltered, not to any enemy or ally; there’s yet been an instance that the mafia’s leader's repose was weakened. However, you have always been an anomaly. 

Her crimson pupils pierce into you, as their hands linger beneath your hips. 

“You truly will be the death of me.”

---

Reference for Arlecchino in the second half.

Smut will be in part 3.

[seventh-district]

i’m not like other girls, my “Rest” stats are a heart rate of 110bpm and a HRV of 14 fucking milliseconds. :)

[2knightt]

could u write the gang (seperate) x a reader thats like. deeply and unashamedly obsessed w them

not in in a weird way but like soda makes reader a cake and theyre like “wow ur so talented u should be a baker youd be the best baker in the world everyone look at this isnt my bf such a good baker?? isnt he so cool???? arent you so jealous of me???”

or they visit the DX on steves lunch break and theyre like whats all this? and steve starts explaining the car stuff to them and theyre like “omg ur so smart ur the smartest person ever the DX is so lucky to have you <333 soda come look at steves car isnt he so good at this??? babe u should like reinvent cars youd totally do it better than washington or whatever”

or just reader holding hands and sitting on laps and kissing faces at all times basically the gang x reader thats all over them

「 i just wanna get high with my lover! 」

IN WHICH—you’re totally in love with them!♡ ໋֢ 🎞️✧

📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ i’m Finally working on reqs. WHO CHEERED???? also new theme for fics. got bored of my old ones😜

Dallas Winston ;

“you’re so strong, dal. you look so good when you fight, did you know that? you’re like the only person who looks that good when fighting. you’re so cool.”

“…thanks, doll.”

was SO STARTLED LMFAO

like??? he’s never been showered in compliments like this before. but he DOES welcome it

cocky bastard. you boosted his ego. it’s too high now.

“i stole this for you.”

“DALLAS! you didn’t have too, oh my god! you’re so sweet—and talented! i can’t believe you stole this—for me! i have the best boyfriend ever! i am so lucky, ain’t i?”

“yeah, i know.”

SHOWS U OFF SO MUCH. he just likes the reaction you give him when he does, honestly. like dallas LOVES hearing you ramble about him when he’s beside you.

he’s all, “yup. i AM the best boyfriend ever, dickhead.”

“this my partner.”

“mhm! dally’s the sweetest ever! he’s so nice to me, don’t you think? ugh, i love him so much. he’s the best boyfriend in the world.”

the way you look at him with lovesick eyes makes him wanna hold you forever and never let go btw.

IF YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO THAT??? ohmy fod he’ll lose his fucking mind!!!

dallas winston looking up at you while you cradle him between your legs, his hands gently holding your waist while you gush over him, a small pink hue across his cheeks.

AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH

“you’re so handsome. you’re the prettiest boy ever. i love your hair, it’s so nice. with or without the grease.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

has the most DISGUSTING and GROSS lovey dovey smile across his face has you plant kissed across his face, mumbling sweet nothings as you do so.

feels like you’re an angel when you do this after a bad day btw. loves you sososososo much he’s so down bad

Johnny Cade ;

looks up at you with the biggest puppy dogs eyes you’ve ever seen as you sit on his lap, kissing his scars. johnny’s lips would be slightly parted as he seems mesmerized with every movement you make.

WHIPPED. HE IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. the SECOND you started gushing over, he got a small grin on his face, a sense of pride washing over him.

he, like, never knew you seen him as this magnificent being. johnny’s confidence was never great but PHEWWW you’re always there to help him!!!

“you really like my scars?”

“totally. they make you look so cute, johnny. they make you, you and that’s all i could ever ask for. you’re so cute. i love you. any person would, i’m just so glad that it’s me.”

he’d get so shy after but johnny would be walking with his chin slightly higher. ‘cause deep down he’s all, “what if they don’t actually mean it☹️?” and then you show up outta nowhere and like engulf him with a hug and he’s like “nvm…i love ‘em actually☺️.”

whenever you brag about him to people, he has to look at his feet to keep himself from smiling too much.

“and if you ever need someone to listen to you, nobody does it like johnny! he’s the best listener ever, nobody can ever compare to him. johnny’s such an angel!”

“y/n…”

he’d mumble, an embarrassed groan leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a rock.

contrary to popular belief of you being more in love, he is. he swears up and down that you’re too good to him, that you’re a real doll, that he doesn’t deserve someone like you.

johnny needs someone like this in his life NOW! and if it isn’t you it’s gonna be me.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

so fucking embarrassed i’m crying.

i believe he can’t take compliments for SHIT. so being around you, he just becomes a mess. like stuttering n’ shit.

“your voice is so pretty. you read so much better than everyone else, pony. you should do it as a job—you’d totally beat everyone. it’s not like it’d ever be a competition with you there, though. you’re so cool, pony.”

“i-uhm…thank you, y/n.”

GIGGLES SOO HARD LMFAOOOO

like at night when he’s with soda, he just rambles to his older brother about what you told him. soda thinks it’s cute in the moment, but later wants ponyboy to shut up because it’s been two hours of him gushing over what you said to him.

“and then they said that i-“

“OKAY, DAMN. i have work tomorrow and you have school. ponyboy, please.”

“…okay? they said that i was the prettiest boy they’ve ever seen.”

“holy fuck.”

like he’d be ranting about some drama with the gang or some movie he’d seen, sitting on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you look over to him, thinking he’s never looked more perfect. ponyboy had washed the grease out of his hair, the fluffy hair falling over his ears.

unconsciously, you tuned him out as you leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.

“what was that for?”

“you tell stories so well, pony. you’d make a great writer, did you know that? i’m so lucky to have you.”

“i-huh?”

WAHHH COMPLIMENTING PONYBOY WHILE ATTACKING HID FACE WITH KISSES AS HE GIGGLES ☹️☹️☹️

he’s so cute thay’s literally my man….!!!!

Sodapop Curtis ;

HE’S SO IN LOVE!!!!!

sitting on the counter while he cooks and you just rant about how perfect he is makes him WEAK IN THE KNEES.

“you’re such a good baker, soda. nobody does it like you do. you’re like—the best baker in the world. ain’t he, two-bit?”

“stop it, y/n..🤭🤭”

“nah, ‘m good.”

you brag about him to the girls that go to the DX to flirt with him. i can see it now.

soda’s just in the background giggling SOO HARD AND TWEAKING WITH STEVE LMFAOO

“no, he’s so sweet to me! i swear, he’s like the best boyfriend ever, did you know that? i’d be jealous if i was you, honestly.”

“TEEHEE”

“soda, shut up!”

“i’m the best boyfriend ever, steve😛.”

HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU IT’S SO CUTEEE😭😭

“you look so cute today, y/n. i got so lucky, didn’t i? had to be blessed to even have you in my life.”

FUCK i need this man at my doorstep

like imagine sitting on his lap, him staring up at you while you push back his hair with a small smile on his face. the silence between the two of you being broken by exchanged compliments.

YOU TWO MAKE EVERYONE FUCKIJG SICK I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT!!! YOU GUYS ARE SO PERFECT TOGETHER IT MAKES ME VOMIT!!!

Darry Curtis ;

tries to act cool and nonchalant when you do it, but he turns his head away to cover the huge smile that’s growing on his face.

“you’re so strong, dare! you’re the strongest person ever—you could totally take down anyone. isn’t he just the best, soda?”

“alright, that’s enough, y/n.”

“but you’re just so good to me, dare. :(.”

“sweetheart, please.”

“alright..”

“he’s smiling, y/n.”

“and blushin’…i love your brother so much.”

“everyone knows.”

AKDNSKDHEKENKDS SITTING ON HIS LAP WHILE HE SITS ON HIS CHAIR, READING THE NEWS PAPER🤭🤭

like your arms are wrapped around his neck, his arms around your waist as he reads the newspaper over your shoulder while lazily responding to your rambles.

“you look so cute with your reading glasses. you’re the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world. i’m so lucky, ain’t i?”

“you’re a real treat, y/n.”

—

“i love your hair, darry. you look so much better with this hairstyle than anyone else. you should be a model.”

“i’d be a terrible model, dear.”

gang is so jealous of your relationship btw. they call it bullshit that darry pulled you.

they fake gag and groan when you do this but in reality they’re like, ‘damn…when is it my turn to be happy.😒’

darry’s self esteem’s alright. it’s not the best but it’s not the worst. but you’re always there to remind him he’s absolutely perfect :).

Steve Randle ;

HE’S SOOOO WHIPPED LMFAOOOO

like i swear to god the second you went on a rant about him he was so ready to marry you right then and there.

“you’re so good when it comes to cars. honestly—you could just make your own and it’d be 100x better than whoever made them before. you’re just the best mechanic ever.”

“really? you think so? ‘cause if i were ever to i’d totally change the way they-“

and now steve’s on a 12 minute rant on how he’d change cars to rub better while you just sit there, listening to him with a smile.

YOU HAVE HIM SOOOO INSANE LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD!?? he couldn’t ask for a better partner if he tried!!!

like, i imagine steve’s always had confidence issues—being friends with soda n all don’t really help.

BUT THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND HE’S JUST VISIBLY HAPPIER😭😭.

“you’re so smart, steve. like—the smartest ever.”

“stawpp, oh my god. what else am i, though?”

“you’re cute, awfully nice, you got the prettiest eyes the world’s ever seen-“

please tell him all this while kissing him all over. he needs it so bad.

teehee lazily kissing steve randles face as the blush across his face grows from the never ending compliments that leave your lips😜

he’d totally tell you to shut up and when you don’t, he just kiss you.

AUGHHHH

Two-Bit Mathews ;

AUGH HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU !!!!

honestly—he didn’t like it at first. ‘cause deep down he was all, ‘wtf??? i’m supposed to be making them swoon n’ shit??? why am i the one giggling rn??😒😡’

but overtime he’d look forward to your silly little love drunk rambles. tell him he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend ever when he’s drunk and he might cry.

“YOU REALLY THINK THAT? BABY, STA-“

and he’s like actually sobbing while hugging you.

sitting on two-bit’s lap in the backseat of his car at the drive-in, ignoring the movie you guys came to watch because you’re both too focused on each other.

kissing every inch of his face, laughs leaving his lips as you mutter small comments about how cute his laugh is. unconsciously, his grip on your hips tightening.

FUCK i’m making myself feel lonely writing this.

every single good thing you say about him gets internalized. someone could say his hair’s dumb but then in his head he goes ‘NUH-UH! y/n said my hair is absolutely perfect😜’

[lewisvinga]

sorry not sorry | daniel ricciardo x fem! reader

summary; daniel and y/n were just friends, that’s it, although everyone else around them wanted for them to be more. but one drunken night lead to y/n posting some questionable things to her story.

fc; christina nadin

warnings; mentions of drinking , suggestive comment

note; requested !

taglist; @namgification

masterlist !

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and others

yourusername: before n after danny said no to chicken tenders

tagged; danielricciardo

danielricciardo: it’s because you need to expand your tastebuds, sunshine

yourusername: i just wanted some chicken tenders, danny☹️☹️

danielricciardo: stop pouting at my from the other side of the room

danielricciardo: fine i’ll get you chicken tenders, sunshine

yourusername: thank u danny 💗💗💗

username: i love them sm

username: they HAVE to be dating

username: LMFAOO

username: i love them so much😭😭

landonorris: you have the tastebuds as a child

yourusername: a lot of talking for a man who gags at sushi and steals my chicken tenders everytime we hang out…

username: i need the grid to try to set them up bc they have to be in love or something

username: ppl when a guy and girl are friends: 🤯

yourusername uploaded to their story!

[caption 1; party rocking 🤪] [caption 2; i Love danny Sooooolmuch his face is SooO stupidly cute I wanna kiss him] [caption 3; he’s so Sexy i want him to be my boyfriend Now.]

these posts have been deleted!

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others

danielricciardo: my ☀️, now n forever.

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: sorry not sorry 4 posting abt how sexy u are on my story

danielricciardo: but ur sexier

yourusername: have u seen u post workout? that is very sexy 😌

danielricciardo: no but i have seen you in my bed post… and that’s very sexy😉

landonorris: THERE ARE CHILDREN PRESENT

yourusername: love u stupid, 4ever n ever 🥹🥹💗💗

danielricciardo: love u weirdo, n ur weird chicken tender obsession 4ever and ever 😌😌❤️

username: oh OH

username: good morning to y/niel only

username: the way they were absolutely silent for like a month after y/n’s stories just for daniel to randomly hard launch on a tuesday morning

username: they’re so perfect for each other 🥹

username: daniel’s smile w her😩😩🥹🥹🥹

landonorris: why is she eating in almost every picture

yourusername: like you aren’t a beggar who begs for my left overs every time

landonorris: YOU LEAVE LIKE HALF OF THE PLATE BEHIND IT SHOULDNT GO TO WASTE!!!

yourusername: i’m giving yuki my leftover tenders next time

landonorris: NO

[luvyeni]

❛TWO PLUS ONE❜ ( l.minho & h.jisung )

p. bestfriend!minsung x fem!reader w. 4.5k+

warnings? threesome, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, mxm moments, alludes to a poly relationship

— 𖦹 ( both you and your boyfriend are crushing on his long time friend, so why not add him ) !

“You ready?” you boyfriend asked, you both were sitting outside the house of one of his best friends, you fixed your lipgloss, turning to him. “You sure this is the right place to meet them, I mean this is your friends celebration party – is now the right time to introduce me to them?”

You and lee know had been dating for about a year, when he decided it was time to meet his friends. “Of course, Felix wouldn’t mind, he’s been the main one asking to meet you, well besides jisung.”

Ah jisung, you’ve heard about jisung more than any of the others — he was your boyfriend's closest friend. “Jisung has been waiting to meet you since we’ve started dating.”

“I promise babydoll, if I didn’t think they didn’t want you here I would have bought you.” He reassured, you nodded. “Okay, let’s go, i’m ready.” He reaches over, giving you a kiss. “Good girl, if you’re good tonight i’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours until you’re begging me to stop.” You smiled, “Deal.”

You guys walk up to the door, his hand resting on your lower back, knocking on the door. “Jisung is gonna love you I swear.” You laugh, “I feel like you just wanted me to meet jisung.” He hummed, “besides you, he’s the most important person in my life.” You nodded, as the door swung open.

“Hyung, you’re here!” A blonde hair fairy opened the door — he was gorgeous, “And this must be y/n?” He held his arms out. “You’re even more gorgeous in person.” He pulled you into a hug. “Be calm Felix, before changbin gets all jealous.” Minho guided you into the house. “Please, he gets jealous over any little thing, i’m used to it.” You laughed. “Sounds like you.” Your boyfriend pinched your side, “Because you’re mine.”

“Just like changbin, mine mine mine, like give it a rest.” He guided you both through the party, to the kitchen. “Well make yourself a home, drinks are self-served, I have to go greet more guest, and make sure changbin isn’t somewhere strangling seungmin.” He excused himself before leave.

After pouring you both some drinks, lee know guided you through the crowds of people, “let’s go find my friends.”

After looking for a few minutes, you seen him smile. “There they are, let’s go.” He held your hand, and you both walked over to the group. “There he is!” The one you knew as chan beamed. “And look who he bought.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to you both, mostly you. “You must be yn?” You nodded, holding your hands out. “Hello.” You smiled, “Oh please, we’ve been waiting forever to meet you, come here.” He pulled you into a hug.

“Baby you know their names; that’s chan — of course you met Felix and that’s changbin, hyunjin and seungmin.” He pointed them out, “And that’s jeongin, our maknae.” He introduced them, you waved. “It’s nice to meet you everyone.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, you’re always the topic of our conversation with minho, so it nice to finally put a face to the name.” You turned to your boyfriend. “Don’t act so smug, you know how obsessed I am with you.”

“Obsess isn’t the word, I haven’t heard him talk about anyone like that before.” Seungmin said, “Well beside jisung.” You hummed. “I’ve heard so much about this jisung, is he here — I would love to finally meet him.” You spoke. “He just went to the bathroom; he should be here soon.”

As if on cue, a boy came jogging over. “The long was so long.” You watched your boyfriends' eyes light up — much how they did with you. “Hannie-ah.” Your boyfriend called. “Hyung, w-when you get here?” He was cute, his chubby cheek, lips in a permanent pout — if you weren’t in a relationship with your boyfriend, he’d definitely be your type.

“A few minutes ago.” Your boyfriend said. “And he bought yn.” His eyes drifted to you — you swore you saw them widen just a bit before returning to normal. “y-yn?”

Jisung didn’t mean to be so surprised — but you really were as gorgeous as minho had said, he seen pictures of his of course, but you are even more beautiful in person. “It’s finally nice to meet you.” You pulled him into hug.

“Oh my god, is this what lino hyungs’ wet dreams look like.” Felix quickly slapped his boyfriend's chest; you laughed pulling away. “Please excuse him, he’s drunk.” You held your hand up. “It’s fine.” You spoke, turning back to jisung. “I understand why he talks and him so much, he’s adorable.” Jisung’s face turned red at the unexpected compliment.

“Wow only jisung could have both the girlfriend and the boyfriend be equally as fond for him.” Jisung coughed awkwardly. “T-thank you.” You nodded, turning to your boyfriend, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

“I‘ll go get it baby.” You shook your head, “stay and talk to your friends, I can go get my own drink — do you want something.” He shook his head no. “Jisung, you want something?” His eyes cutely widened. “Me?” He pointed to himself. “Yes, you’re the only one without a drink.”

“S-sure, if that’s okay with you.” You nodded. “Coming right up.” You said, untangling your arms from lino. “I’ll come with you; someone here needs some water.” Felix climbed off of changbins’ lap, following behind you, both of holding on to each other as you shuffled away from the group.

“Your girlfriend is amazing, never break up.” Seungmin spoke up, lino sat down on the couch. “She is amazing, the best thing that has happened to me in a while.” Lino eyed jisung who sat on the arm of the couch, who seemed to be in his own world.

“I’m so surprised that you and lino got together.” Felix said, You both stood in the kitchen gossiping. “We all genuinely thought he’d end up with jisung.” You tilted your head in confusion. “Oh my, did you not know he was bisexual?” his eyes widened, slapping his mouth. “I talk to much.” He whined.

You laughed, stopping him, “Of course I know, that was the first thing he told me when we got together.” He sighed in relief, handing you a drink. “But I didn’t know he and jisung used to date.”

“Oh, I don’t think they officially did, but it was so obvious they were more than friends, they were like soulmates.” He said, you nodded along, listening. “They did everything together — still do, well when he’s not with you of course.”

Oddly enough, you weren’t jealous upon hearing this — it was actually cute that your boyfriend had someone like jisung in his life before you — you remember your boyfriend telling you all the stuff they did together in college, and it seem like they had a lot of fun together. “Do you know know why they didn’t end up together.”

Felix shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “I don’t actually, I think they just decided to stay friends.” He explained, “Then he met you.”

You guys made your way back to the group, holding your drinks. “Here you go jisung.” He took the drink from the hand. “Th-thank you.” You nodded, sitting down in lino’s lap. “What took you guys so long?” He pouted, “I missed you.” You kissed his lips. “Just having a chat, learned so much.” You said, your eyes drifting to jisung, who was already staring at you two. You smiled at him, he quickly turned away — looking into his drink like it was important.

“Yeah?” He kissed your neck, you chuckled at his nose tickling you. “Like what?” He smirked. “That’s a secret baby.” You said said. “We don’t have secrets baby you know that.” Felix spoke up, cradling a drunk changbin in his arms, feeding him water. “Ah lino hyung, mind your business.”

“Yah Lee Felix, don’t try and turn my girlfriend on me.” He shouted; you grabbed his cheek. “It was nothing baby I promise.” You kissed him again. “Oh my god you two are so cute.” Hyunjin cooed, you smiled taking another sip of your drink.

The party was ending, people slowly leaving one by one. “I’m glad everyone could make it.” He held changbin up, “And yn it was nice to meet you, you have to get my number from lino so we can get coffee together.” You nodded, standing up.

“You ready baby?” Lino nodded, standing up. “Yeah, just let me go say bye to jisung, he’s talking to chan over there.” He said, “I’ll come with you — it was nice to meet you guys.” You waved, intertwining your hands with lino; both of you walked over to the boy.

Chan excused himself, claiming he had to go work on a song, leaving you both with jisung. “You have a way home jisung?” Lino asked, the boy nodded. “Y-yeah hyung, seungmin is gonna drive me home.”

“It was to meet you yn.” He said, you pulled him into a hug. “You too jisung, I hope we can meet each other again, maybe in a calmer setting.” Lino smiled at the interaction. “S-sure okay.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. “I’ll call you.” He grabbed the boys' arm, before walking away with you.

The ride back home was short, both of you making small conversation — you told him about all the drama you got from the women at the party, his hand resting on your thigh as he drove.

That all switched up as soon as you stepped foot in the apartment, his lips were on your neck, and you soon found yourself being pressed against the bed as your boyfriend buried his face in your cunt.

“Fu-fuck lino, more.” You moaned grabbing his hair, pushing him deeper into your sopping heat. “Fu-fuck, fuck i’m i’m gonna cum baby.” You screamed. “Fuck! i’m gonna cum!”

Your cunt clenched around his tongue, cumming all over his face. “Shit.” You breathed, coming down from your high. “That felt so good.” He came up from between your legs, kissing your lips. “Told you, I could spend hours eating your pretty pussy.”

“So did you like my friends.” Lino asked, you hummed. “Of course, they’re really nice, especially Felix, he wants to have coffee this week.” Lino nodded, “That’s good, i’m glad you’re getting along with them.”

“And jisung?” He said, “How did you feel about him?” You look up at him. “He’s cute — a little quiet, I wish I could speak to him more.” You said, he smiled. “You and jisung seem to be really close.” You said, rubbing his chest. “Yeah, since college.”

“Have you guys ever done anything together?” You wanted to see if he would lie. “Why do you ask that?” His eyebrow quirked up. “Mmm I don’t know, just a question.” He could tell when you were lying. “Baby, did Felix tell you something?” You smiled cheekily realizing you’d been caught.

“Is that what you guys were talking about? If me and jisung fucked?” You pouted at his crude language. “Don’t say it like that.” He laughed, “We’ll did you?”

“Yeah, we did a few times.” He said, “when?” You questioned. “A few times in college, a couple times before I met you.” He said, smirking. “Why you jealous baby?” you slapped his chest. “That’s you who’s always jealous.” You said.

“Besides, jisung is cute, if we weren’t together i’d definitely fuck him.” That made his cock twitch for some reason. “R-really?” he cleared his throat. “Yes, why would i lie, I would definitely take care of him though.” God that was turning him on hearing you say that.

In all honestly lino often thought about his time with jisung, no he’d never cheat on you — he loved you with all his heart, but jisung, jisung was something special to him. he’d often thought about what it would be like if he was in a relationship with you, but also jisung — waking up with both of you, dates and everything, but he never brought it up, scared you think he was gonna cheat.

“Lino, you okay?” you asked noticing he suddenly went quiet. “Huh?” he said. “I asked were you okay?” He nodded. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

“You wanna fuck jisung?” You asked abruptly, you could see something in his eyes, the way he looked at jisung — it didn’t make you mad, it actually turned you on a bit. “Baby.” You sat up, turning to him. “It’s fine if you do.” His mouth hung open. “Are you saying that just because you want to please me, because mph—” you hushed him up with a kiss.

“I see how you look at jisung, you look at me the same way.” You said, “I think it’s cute, I think you guy’s relationship is cute.” You confessed. “Baby, seems like you have a little crush on jisungie too.” You smiled, shrugging — maybe you did, maybe you just wanted to fuck him, you didn’t know, but you definitely did feel your heart pitter a little when you met the boy.

“He’s cute.” You smiled, “I just want to take care of him I don’t know.” He smiled. “You think he’d be down?” You asked, your boyfriend furrowed his eyes. “Be down to what? Fuck or date us?” He questioned. “Well, I know I definitely want to fuck him, but I would also want to try and date him, if that’s okay with you.”

He felt like he was dreaming, you were quite literally bringing his fantasy to life. “I need you to totally sure you want that, we’re talking about adding someone else into our relationship, I like jisung very much, but if you don’t want to, I won’t force you.” You straddled his lap. “I want to.” You said, “I want to so bad.”

He smiled, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a heated kiss. “I’ll talk to him about it.” He toyed with your bottom lip. “I’ll invite him over and we can talk about it together.” He said. “Fantastic.” You beamed. “Now.” You slowly rocked your hips. “I want you to fuck me.”

He flipped you over, hovering above. “Did thinking about fucking jisung make you horny.” You bit your lip, nodding. “Nasty baby, I didn’t even ask him yet and your already soaked for him.” He toyed with your clit. “Please fuck me.” You moaned out.

“Gladly baby.”

“Is he almost here yet?” You asked your boyfriend, he chuckled pulling you into his lap. “Calm down baby, he’s on his way — you’ve never been this excited to see me.” You pouted. “Don’t lie.”

You and your boyfriend took a week to actually think about it and talk it through — this was a big decision, and someone else’s emotions were involved so you wanted to make sure you wanted it for real. “i’m just nervous, what if he doesn’t want to?”

“Should we find someone else then?” You shook your head no. “I want him and you only.” You said, he nodded patting your thigh. “Oh he’s definitely gonna love you, baby.” He kissed your cheek, just as the doorbell rang, making you hop up. “He’s here.” He laughed, tapping your butt. “Calm down, go answer the door.”

You opened the door, revealing the the boy, dressed in a oversized sweatshirt and some cargo pants with a beanie. “O-oh hi yn.” He stuttered. “Is lino hyung here.” He seemed so nervous; it just made you want to wrap your arms and comfort him. “Come in han-ah.” Lino called from the living room. You stepped to the side, letting him in.

You made some snacks, bringing them into the living-room. “Thank you, baby.” You sat down in lap. “No problem.” Jisung shuffled in his seat. “How have you been jisung?” You asked, he sat up straight, you smiled. “O-oh i’be been good.” You nodded, “Have you worked on any songs, lino told me you’re a producer.” He nodded, eyes lightening up. “Yeah a few.”

“That’s cool, maybe one day I could hear a few.” You said, “Really?” He said. “Of course, yn is a music executive at a company, she’s really good at her job.” You smiled at the praise from your boyfriend. “I could help you, give one of your songs to the higher ups of you want.” His eyes widened. “You would?”

“Of course, lino says you’re really talented, if it’s good, they’ll definitely take it.” He smiled; it felt the first time you met lino — yeah you definitely did like him like you liked lino. “Thank you yn, thank you so much.”

You left them to talk freely, going back to your room, to do some work on your computer, while they stayed in the living room. “She’s like a dream isn’t she?” Lino said, jisung nodded. “Sh-she’s really nice, I see why you like her.”

“I told her about us — well Felix did.” Lino said, jisung picked at his fingers. “H-he did, why? The boy questioned. “I don’t know, she wasn’t mad or anything.” The boy sighed of relief. “That’s good, I would hate it if I made her upset or feel jealous.” He spoke.

“In fact, she found it cute.” Lino said, “She didn’t mind at all, I think she might have a little crush on you.” He smirked, watching the boy freeze. “M-me? But she has you.” He said. “I don’t mind it, han-ah you know how I feel about you.”

Jisung shuffled in his seat, why was he telling him this — right before lino announced that he entered a relationship with you, jisung had contemplated if he should confess to the older boy, but atlas, he was too late. Jisung never got over his crush on the boy, but he would never disrespect you like that. “Jisung you know I like you right?”

“H-hyung, you have yn, why are you telling me this.” He said. “Because she likes you too.” He was confused. “Wh-what?”

“She’s been talking about you since the party, it’s cute actually — watching her go on and on.”

“Wh-what does this mean?” He asked, “Well that’s up to you.” Lino responded. “What do you mean, like being in a relationship with you both?” Jisung asked, the older boy shrugged. “If you wanted to.”

This was a lot for the boy to take in, you really like him — and wanted him to be in a relationship with you and lino. “Why me?” He said. “She thinks you’re cute, she doesn’t want anyone else.” Lino said. “Only wants to take care of you sung.” The older boy, got up sitting next to him. “Doesn’t that sound like me, maybe that’s why we work so well.”

Lino put his hand on the boy's thigh. “Both just want to take care of you.” His hand reached higher and higher — jisung gulped, his cock twitched. “I-is she okay with this?” Lino hummed before dipping into the boys' necks, kissing him lightly. “H-hyung.” The boy sighed. “Is this what you want sung? You want us to take care of you?” Lino palmed the boy through his hands, the boy moaned, his cock hardening.

“S-she’s in the room.” He said, “You want go to her?” Lino asked. “S-she’s busy.” Lino laughed. “She’ll stop for this; I know she will.” He pulled away from the boy. “Come on.”

You rubbed your temples, hitting send on the last email you had to send. “Finally.” You sighed — the door opening. “Baby?” Lino said. “You busy?”

“I’m done now, I just sent in the last email.” You said. “See I told you, she isn’t busy, jisung was scared we’d bother you.” Your boyfriend had that look in his eye. “Did he say yes?” You asked, they both walked into the room, jisung was much more reserved. “of course, he did baby, nobody could resist you.”

You turned to jisung, “are you sure you want this jisung?” You sat down next to him. “I really want this to be something we all enjoy, we all know he will.” You point to your boyfriend, who was already laying on the bed. “And I want you feel comfortable.”

He nodded shyly, “I-i do.” You smiled, bringing your hand to his cheek, caressing it, he melted into your touch. “So cute.” You pulled him into a kiss.

Lino watched you two make out at the door of his bed, it was surely a sight — watching you lead jisung, normally it was him who led you during sex, but it was sexy watching you take over — not that he’d ever allow you to do such thing to him.

“That’s enough both of you.” He instructed, you both whined, pulling away from each other. “Look at the both of you, panting and all worked up over a kiss.” He smirked. “Come up here now.” You both climbed up to where he was, you sat on your knees. “Fuck what am I gonna do with both of you?” he felt like a kid in a candy store.

“Take your clothes off.” Both of you were quick to stand up — riding yourself of your clothing, climbing back on the bed. “princess didn’t you say you want to take care of hannie here, how about you wrap your pretty lips around his cock?” You smirked, climbing in between his legs.

“Take out his cock pretty.” You obeyed, reaching for his waistband, pulling them down past his waist, his cock sprung out, hitting his abdomen, dripping with pre-cum. “Such a pretty cock.” You grabbed the base of his cock, kissing his tip. “She gave you a compliment baby boy.” Your cunt clenched at your boyfriends words. “Say thank you.”

“Th-thank you.” He stuttered, “good boy, take him all the way baby, make him feel good.” You relaxed your jaw, allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. “F-fuck.” Jisung cursed. “F-feels good.”

You bobbed your head up and down, occasionally gagging on his length. “Oh my god.” He gasped, feeling himself about to cum. “You gonna cum?” Lino kissed the boys' neck, “You gotta hold it sung.”Lino knew he could barely hold it, he was aware of how sensitive he was.

You looked up at them through your lashes, the sight made you moan, lino’s mouth against jisung, holding the back of his neck. You took him all the way one last time, before he moaned out, cumming into your mouth, you pulled off of his cock, some of his cum staining your cheeks. “You came so much sungie.”

He moaned, pulling away from lino. “I-i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cum.” Lino scoffed. “Of course, you did, you’re a needy slut who only loves to cum.” His cock twitched in your hands at your boyfriends' words. “He likes that min.”

“I know baby, I know what both my pretty sluts like.” You felt your panties soaking at his lewd language. “Come here princess.” You climbed into his lap, sitting right on his hard cock. “Want you to ride me.” He slapped your ass. “Take my cock out baby.”

You unbuckled his pants, pulling them off, climbing back into his lap. “Fuck sung, her pussy is throbbing, you’re gonna love it.” He moaned, you took his cock from his underwear, hovering over his pink tip as you stroked it — sinking down. “Fuck min.” you moaned, his cock filling you up. “Such a warm cunt, move for me baby.” You began to slowly move your hips; he threw his head back.

Jisung on the other hand was getting hard again, his cock bobbed against stomach, begging to be touched, you took notice, stopping. “Did I say stop?” You pouted. “But jisung is all alone.” You whined, lino smirked, slapping your ass. “Don’t worry about him, just keep bouncing on my cock.”

Jisung watched your tits bounced up and down as you moved on linos cock, ready to reach for his, when lino grabbed the base of his cock, stroking it. “H-hyung.” He moaned, you clenched on lino’s cock, watching him jerk the boy off in front of you was such a turn on. “Fuck lino, i’m gonna cum!” you exclaimed.

“Go ahead and cum.” Lino groaned, “Fuck i’m gonna cum too.” You moved faster, squeezing your boob, clenching down as you came all over his cock. “oh fuck, you’re squeezing me -ngh- fuck i’m cumming.” Lino grunted, spilling his load into your dripping cunt. “fuck princess, get up.” He ordered.

He let go of jisung cock, “want you to ride hannie, want him to feel you pretty pussy filled with my cum.” You climbed off of lino and into jisungs, your boyfriends cum dripping out of you. “Fuck, sit on his cock, before it spills out of you.”

You sunk down on jisung, both of you moaning in unison. “That’s it, moan for me my pretty slut.” Lino watched as you both feverishly moved against each other, chasing your highs — you were feeling super sensitive, so it didn’t take long before you were screaming that you were close. “Hannie, you better hurry, once she cums you won’t be able to cum, we gotta give our girl a break.”

That’s what it took for him to cum, lino calling you ‘our girl’ — he hadn’t even thought about that part, the fact that he’ll be able to touch you like this, not only that he’ll be able to kiss you and lino whenever. His thighs shook as he came, filling you up more with his cum. “Sh-shit.” He cursed.

Lino watched you two make out for awhile, before ordering you both to stop. “Both of you need to get cleaned up, I know both of you can’t go another round, you’re both acting like bunnies in heat.” You pulled away, giving him a few pecks. “He’s just jealous.” You teased.

“Yah, you really want to show jisung how I treat brats, i’m trying to be nice.” You pouted. “You’re so mean, i’m just trying to be nice.” Jisung chuckled watching you both go back and forth. “It’s funny hannie?” He glared at the boy. “Don’t try and intimidate him.” You said. “Both of you better get up and shower, before neither one of you cum for the whole week.”

You both finally got washed up, lino giving both of you some clothes to wear — waiting for you both to return back to bed. “Hurry!” you intertwined your hands with jisung, walking out of the bathroom. “Calm down.” You said. “We’re right here.”

Han laid in the middle, while you held him, lino opting to hold his hand, watching tv. “We can do this whenever you want.” You played with his hair. “Not without my permission though.” Lino said, you rolled your eyes.

“I would like that.” You smiled kissing his cheek. “Good.” Lino turned to you, “where’s mine.” He pointed to his cheek. “Come.” He leaned over, and you planted a kiss on his cheek. “Good girl.” He ruffled hans hair — he was happy with you before, but now that he both of you, he felt complete.

“Both of you my good baby’s.”

©LUVYENI

[whalesforhands]

Please please satosugu sharing y/n giving her load after load

sometimes asks like this remind me i’m supposed to be an 18+ blog. i can feel my future self regretting adding to the growing amt of stsg porn in the tags

warnings: bully au, unprotected p in v, fem!reader, established satosugu bcs i love them, dubcon, obsessiveness but it’s the bad kind, minors DNI istg i will quit writing forever and take this blog down with me

“W-wait…!” You’re already crying, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder as the other plants itself on his hip, attempting to stop his movements and your further descent into overstimulation.

“I-I need a break…” You’re panting, breathless and boneless as the sweat on your body and haziness of your brain finally starts getting to you,

“Ehhh?” Gojo’s pulling you in closer by your waist when he feels you try to buck your hips away, sheathing his hard cock deep back inside your weeping hole as you let out a whine at the sensation.

He’s too spoiled. Too mean to let you go now.

“You tired? Want a break?” He’s leaning forward, blue eyes and cute pout all up in your face when he feels you clench tighter around him.

You nod fervently, teary gaze and gem-like eyes pointed towards him, letting him intertwine his big hands with yours oh so intimately. As if he loves you, as if he sees you as more than just his bedwarmer. He’s finally showing you mercy.

He slows to a stop, finally letting you take a shaky breath in before he pulls out all the way, a combination of Geto’s and his own spend starting to leak out. He leaves only the head of his pretty cock notching itself at your entrance, letting you relax into the bed and seeing your shoulders begin to droop from sheer exhaustion.

Before he rams the entirety of it back in, ignoring your squeals and squirms, your cries of pained pleasure.

“N-no!” Thrust. “G-gojo please!” Thrust. You’re starting to cry again, hold on his hands letting go to push at his chest lightly, the pleasure and lust overtaking your overtaxed body.

“Just kidding~, whores like you should just sit there and take cocks in this tight cunt of yours like an obedient slut.”

Suguru’s been watching all this while as he watches his boyfriend have his way with you, his hand vigorously stroking his own phallus, watching intently as your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, tongue beginning to loll out as Satoru’s unrelenting pace fucked you stupid.

“Hey, pull out. I’m gonna cum.” His hand is holding onto his painfully hard cock as he watches the way your tears fall, your sweaty face streaked in your overstimulated pleasure and helplessness as you simply take what you’re given.

He wants to add to your ruin.

“Hah? Just do it on her somewhere, I’m busy.” Gojo accentuated his words with a harsh buck of his hips, using a hand to hold both of yours down as the other rubs at your quivering clit.

His thrusts are speeding up, your whines and moans echoing throughout his bedroom as you cry and cry and cry, reaching your climax for the nth time that night, cumming onto his already drenched cock.

He lets out a pleasured grunt, “You fucking slut…!” His words are barely breathed out as he starts to cum, spurts of familiar white hot liquid making you twitch as you let out a quiet moan at the sensation, your legs thrown over his shoulders as you tremble and shake.

It’s finally over, right? But… he’s not pulling out, only reaching a hand up to your cheek to pat your worn out self as he grins, wrapping your legs around his waist as he starts to pick you up.

When… Did Suguru get behind you?

“If you’re not gonna pull out, I might as well join in, shouldn’t I?”

You feel a prodding at your already abused hole, a second cock sliding inbetween your filled pussy and against Satoru’s now sensitive dick.

Oh no.

[macfrog]

brother | joel & tommy

massive thank-you to @elliespuns who was kind enough to send me so many gorgeous photos of joel and tommy to choose from for this piece. i really, really appreciate it, lovely 🤍 forever indebted to and forever obsessed with you!

pairing: joel miller & tommy miller summary: tommy visits his brother's grave. warnings: lots of grief, brotherly love (but sad), spoilers for tlou2 word count: 900 words

masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤍 | posted first on ao3!

We brought you home in a mottled sheet.

Pathetic, right? I know it, brother. I’m sorry for it. Shit, I’m sorry for all of it.

It’s the best we could find – the best they could find. The kids, I mean. I couldn’t’ve found my own two feet when they eventually managed to wake me. The room swelled into focus and everything was doubled, everything swaying side to side, all violent like.

I could hardly string a sentence together. My head felt heavy with blood, hearing still shot to hell. The first thing I did was look for you.

And oh, Jesus, Joel, did I see you.

I spat the words out in a sob. Be careful with him, I said. I couldn’t get to my feet quick enough; couldn’t reach you with my shaking hands. That’s my goddamn brother, you hear?

He’s my brother.

They found an old pallet and made a sled out of it. We tied it to Old Beardy’s breastplate and let him lead you home. Figured the old timer’s used to the weight of you by now, right?

He kept shaking his head the whole way, kept huffing these deep, achy breaths. I’d never heard him do that before – none of us had. Like he was in pain, almost. I don’t know if horses know grief like we do, Joel, but it sure seemed like he knew. He just…knew.

The gray lump of you jolted and jerked behind him. The more I looked, the more I felt like throwing up, and still – I couldn’t look away from you.

The shape of your head – this crimson bloom where your skull had been broken. Square shoulders, sturdy chest. Long legs and boots still laced – the way you once taught me. Make bunny ears, twist ‘em around each other. Yeah, just like that. Now, pull.

Tall frame, protective frame. Used to plant yourself between me and anything you thought might hurt me. Used to wrestle with me in the backyard, stomach my damn windmill punches like they were nothing.

Man, I don’t know how you ever taught me to throw a half-decent one, but you did. Mom would call us inside and you’d pat my back and say good job, little brother.

Good job. What kinda fucking job did I do this time, huh? When it mattered? Where was I, when my brother needed me most?

On my goddamn ass, that’s where. Blacked out. I couldn’t get to you, no matter how hard I tried.

I tried, Joel. I swear to you, I tried.

It was all of it, all at once. The blizzard, the woman, the room – Christ, that room. So much blood I felt it lining the inside of my lungs. So much that I can still smell it, taste it, like it’s become me. Like everything I look at is tinged red; the color of rust, the color of rage.

The room, where I became just the one. Lost something in my sleep. Hit the ground with a heavy thud, swam back to the surface to find I was short. Something taken. Something stolen.

And I’ve been without you before, Joel, but at least I always got to give you a piece of my mind on the way out.

You remember summer camp, that year I was real homesick? I don’t know what it was. Maybe just knowing you were all those miles away. You remember I wrote you about a hundred times? Jesus. I know you’re laughing, too.

I spent that whole summer with a smile pinned to my face. Counting down the days. I’d turn over in my sleeping bag, pick at the skin on my thumbs and wonder what you were up to. Wonder if you were missing me as much. Wonder if you’d thought about me at all that day.

Well, here I am. Wondering much the same.

I miss you, Joel. I don’t know what to do with that. There ain’t no bus home at the end of this; no big brother and his dirt bike waiting for me in Austin. It’s only been a week, I know that – but my ears won’t stop ringing, and I haven’t stopped looking for you.

It wakes me at night. This pain in my chest, like I’m swimming for that surface over and over, and all I ever do is drown. I wake saying your name. The doctors say it’s just bad dreams, just part of the process, but I know what it really is. I’m calling on you, and you never come.

It’s about damn time I realized you ain’t never gonna come. You’re never coming back. Not to me, not to this place. You’re on a path I can’t follow, brother. We’re on our own from here on out.

Goddamn it, Joel. Why the hell’d it have to be you?

Maybe if we’d gone a different route that day. Maybe if we’d spent a little longer in the stables. We were tryna outrun the weather, sure, but we could’ve spared a few minutes. Shit, I would’ve spared anything, if it meant I’d still have my brother.

Sun’s coming up over the mountains. I better get going. Got a mighty long journey ahead of me. I’ll make things right, Joel, I swear.

Go on, now. I’ll bet your Sarah’s waiting.

See you round, brother.

[linos-luna]

what do you think about yandere chan and changbin? will they kidnap the reader together or will they be against each other?

Pleaseeee, i want this so much!

Also, I love your work. You,re my favourite author (?)!!!🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

I think they would definitely kidnap together! But there would also be a slight rivalry among them. Either way, I can see Yandere Chan taking control of the situation most.

Thank you! 🤍🤍🤍

———————————————————————

Our Doll 🔪

Yandere!Chan x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Changbin

(Pt. 1) (Pt. 2) (Pt. 3)

Warnings: kidnapping, Yandere, nonconsensual kissing!, implied choking, stalking

——————————————————————

Friends to the end right? Even when there’s a girl in the picture. How about a girl to mutually obsess over? Perhaps even better!

Everyday they’d watch. And everyday they’d wait. Changbin wants to touch you so bad but Chan knew better.

Chan was the sweet talker while his friend followed along. The older man was better at hiding his desperation for you while Changbin’s admiration wasn’t as well hidden.

Nonetheless, you thought of them as friends. You had to admit that changbin looks pretty good with his muscles and maybe Chan a little more with his flirtatious comments but still just friends right?

It all happened so fast. Your freedom gone in an instant.

After a lunch date with some friends, you were heading back to your car. You were the last to leave as you had to use the restroom but it was the middle of the day in a fairly populated area.

As you walked, you looked down at your phone, about to reply to your friend’s text when you feel someone come next to you.

“Hey, y/n.”

You jumped a little but laughed it off when realizing that it’s just your friend Chan.

“Almost gave me a heart attack.” You chuckled while slowing down. “What are you doing here?”

“I just happened to be around.” He smiled while lightly stroking your hair. “Thought I’d see my pretty girl.”

You blushed as he got in front of you, he was practically in between you and your car and you felt your heart thumping as he rubbed his thumb over your lips, only staring at you, as if deep in thought.

“Chan?”

“Do you l want to come over?” He asked suddenly.

“Oh. Id love to but… I’m going to a friends house in like an hour…” you replied nervously. “Next time maybe?”

“An hour? You have plenty of time!” He said cheerfully while getting close to you.

“Well no—”

“Right Binnie? An hour is perfect!” Chan interrupted as he looked behind you. Your body tensed up as you felt the muscular man behind you. Your back practically pressed to his chest.

“Aw hyung, I wanna bring her home for longer.” Changbin pouted while holding your waist. “She’s so cute! I wanna keep her forever!”

Before you could react, Changbin grabbed the keys from your hand and held you as Chan gave you a forced kiss so that you couldn’t scream. The parking lot didn’t have many people there but someone must’ve saw something. Right??

Last thing you remember is being shoved into the backseat of your own car before a feeling of breathlessness and everything going dark. You didn’t even have the chance to struggle.

~~~

You had no idea how long you’d been out. All you knew was that you’re on a stranger’s bed in a room you’ve never seen.

You opened your mouth to call out but your voice came out very coarse. Looking to the mirror near the bed, you notice the bruising around your neck, almost as if you’d been strangled.

“I thought I may have killed you…”

You turned to see Changbin at the door. He let out a big sigh of relief before approaching you.

“S-stop-!” You said in a loudish raspy whisper while holding your hand out. “W-what did you—?! Wh-where—?!”

“Don’t be scared.” Changbin said casually as Chan came into the room.

“Hi baby. How are you doing?” Chan asked sweetly.

“Baby?” You looked at him with a raised brow. “W-what’s going on?!”

“Hyung, can I kiss her now?!”

“Hold on, Bin.” Chan replied while getting close to to you.

The man stroked your hair and grabbed a handful before suddenly pulling it back.

“Baby, you’re home now!” He laughed as Changbin took a seat next to you.

You winced at the pain and tears formed as Changbin made some desperate whines next to you.

“Pleeeeeease hyuuuungg!”

“Go ahead. She’s our doll now.” Chan replied with a devious smile as the other man grabbed your cheeks and started desperately making out with you.

You were practically frozen, Unable to move as he left his sloppy kisses. There was no way to get out of this…

———————————————————————

[satorusugurugurl]

STARE GAZING WITH SUGURUU!!

My Constellation

Summary: Marie’s Summer Smut Fest prompt: Stargazing

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut, pnv, unprotected sex, cream pie, exhibitionism, night sex, outdoor sex, fluffy, sweet, goodness

Word Count: 974

A/N: nothing says summer like stargazing up at the sky. It's a perfect way to spend a summer evening. Only if Geto Suguru was around to make it ten times better!! ⭐️🌙 (were gonna pretend there's no scars alright 😁)

Crickets chirped, and the air was cool compared to the summer blazing heat of hours before. You lay on a blanket, staring at the stars, while your boyfriend gently grabbed and held her hand. The night was clear and beautiful, making it the perfect night for stargazing.

“It’s so pretty.” You whispered, winning a glance from your boyfriend. “I can’t believe there’s so many stars up there.”

Suguru nodded, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s pretty breathtaking, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm.”

“But you know nothing else is as breathtaking as you, right?”

You scoff, turning your head to look at him with an incredulous glance. “Suguru, these are literal stars and constellations. I’m nothing compared to their otherworldly beauty.” Your boyfriend looked at you as if you had insulted his whole family and friends.

“You did not just say that about yourself.”

“I’m not a star.”

“You’re my star.” He released the group he had on your hand, moving to crawl on top of you. “And you have constellations all over you.”

“Oh?”

He trailed his fingers over your arms and the freckles and scars that littered your skin. “See.” His fingertips slowly grazed over your arms. “You are a perfect constellation.” You shivered as he gently pulled your shirt over your head, allowing it to fall to the grass beside you.

“W-Well, you’re just as perfect.” Following his lead, you pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground as his long, dark hair fell over his shoulder. “I could trace your constellations forever.” Your fingers brushed over his ‘X’ scar on his chest, sending shivers down his spine.

“I love you.”

The rest of your clothes were removed, and Suguru slid his cock inside of you with a heavy sigh of pleasure, grunting as he slowly rocked into you, his lips pressed against yours with slowly lazy movements as he fucked into you. With each thrust, his fingers grazed over your skin, tracing the beauty of it, the constellations that weren’t in the sky but were on you. The person he loved so incredibly much.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as the pad of his thumb rubbed over several of your freckles. “God, I want to map out every inch of you with my—nngh—with my tongue.”

That would be for a later date, though. Because right now, you were too obsessed with how good Suguru’s cock felt sliding in and out of your tight wet heat. He lost himself in the wall, stretched out as he gripped your hips, losing himself and you as a whole. He admired how the stars twinkled from above, reflecting in your eyes as you stared into his dark, lustful gaze.

The blanket moved with each thrust; the smell of fresh-cut grass and wildflowers made you drunk of your over-heightened senses. You could taste Suguru’s mint gum on your tongue, smell the summer breeze and his expensive shampoo, feel the warmth of the summer evening over your skin, and hear Suguru whispering soft affirmations of love into your ear.

You love him, God; you loved him so much. Suguru grunted as you began rolling your hips and time with his thrusts. Your inner walls begin squeezing his cock, hugging him tight, trying to hold him as deep inside of you as you can. You always got this desperate and needy when he fucked you like this. But you didn’t know that he was just as lost in you as you were in him.

Seeing such a view of the cosmic beauty that was you had Suguru’s hands leaving your hips to cup your face as he kissed you deeply, his buck faster, pushing himself all the way inside of you before pulling back out, repeating the action, drawing out the sweetest cries from your throat. Your pussy clenched around him, causing him to whine as you kissed each other until you pulled back far enough to breathe.

“S-Sugu—!!” you wind, tilting your head back, allowing him to lick and suck at your pulse. “I-I’m gonna! Oooh fuck I'm gonna—”

“Fucking do it. Give it to me, Princess, give it all to me.” his teeth dug into your neck right above your pulse. “Cum on my cock right fucking now!”

Not needing to be told twice, you came hard all over his cock. The twitching and squeezing of your walls had Suguru throwing his head back, hair flowing with him as he roared out your name like a prayer he emptied himself inside of you.

As the warmth of his cum fills your insides. Your boyfriend panted, holding himself up by his hands that caged around your head. He smiled softly in the moonlight that highlighted your features and admired your pure, gorgeous face. He sighed before leaning down and kissing you softly. As you lazily kissed him back, Suguru slowly pulled out of you, lying down on his side and holding you close to his side.

“You are my everything, princess, my stars, constellations, sun, and moon.” unlike before, you didn’t argue with him; instead, you pressed soft kisses against his chest as you blushed.

“You’re my entire world, too, Sugu.” both of you lay on the blankets, staring at the starry sky. Suguru’s fingers trailed over the beautiful marks on your body. Marks that he called his constellations and that we’re all named after you.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

Summer Fest Tag List:

@typicallife-101

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— blinded

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

**edited timeline, aged up to in early twenties

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

Maybe it was your feelings from Ethan that blinded you from seeing how horrible he truly was. After just murdering someone, someone you must have cared for, you were only focused on getting off from the feeling of a hilt of a Buck 120 buried all the way down to the blade in your soaked cunt.

“God, you’re such a fucking whore,” Ethan spoke, blood splattered on his face as he stared down at your trembling thighs, rutting hips, and squelching pussy. “Look at you… getting off on having a fucking knife inside of you.”

You wailed softly, sobbing as you reached up to cover your mouth, your stomach twisting as your mind blurred. This was bad, horrible. How could your boyfriend of almost two years do this? “Pl-Please, please Ethan… I’m almost there, please!”

He laughed cruelly, humming. “Watch… when I keep fucking murdering people, they’re going to find all your cum all over their body and we’ll be fucking tied to each other forever. Would you like that? Hm?”

His words make your stomach clench, pussy fluttering around the hilt of the blade making him laugh, watching your hips squirm. “Yes! Oh my god, yes! Ethan, I need to cum, I need to cum!”

He smirked, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your tear stained cheek. “You’re such a pathetic little slut. You’re so lucky I love you… that I want to fuck you and get you pregnant so no matter what happens to me, this world will never be able to escape my bloodline.”

A whine falls from your lips as you gripped onto the black cloak he wore, mindlessly nodding along with his words. You were so fucked out and obsessed with him, you didn’t care what he did, as long as he only did it to you and you only. “Yes! Yes, I want to get pregnant, please please please…” you babbled endlessly before a yell of your name makes you snap out of it.

Ethan smirked, tilting his head. “Who was that?”

Quickly shaking your head, you continued to roll your hips. “P-Probably Tara.. please, I need to cum-”

“Ah ah,” Ethan tutted, shaking his head. “I need to get out of here baby… maybe take her with me.”

You quickly shake your head, trying to divert him from your best friend. “W-Wait! Please, don’t hurt her! Please… please, I’ll do anything… I’ll get pregnant with your baby, please…”

He laughed, pulling the knife out of you making you whine, shaking your head. “You think that was a choice? I’m going to cum inside of you so much that you’re going to be leaking it for days,” he basically growled out, this new side of Ethan making your cunt clench around nothing as his knife grazed your skin. “Now… where should I mark you, hm? So they don’t know I fucked you like a whore with a blood stained knife.”

“Anywhere!” You sobbed, watching as his knife nicked at your arm before leaving a soft trail on your forearm. “E-Ethan!”

“Sh, baby,” he whispers, kissing at your cheek. “Gotta go. I won’t hurt Tara, just for you. I expect you to be prepped and ready for when I sneak into your room tonight and fuck you until all you can think about is having my child.”

His words made your stomach clench, cumming around nothing as he laughed cruelly, giving a firm slap to your cunt. “That’s a good girl… you better be ready when I get to your dorm room.”

When you got home after making a police statement, you crashed onto your bed. You had already started working on stretching yourself out for Ethan to just come and use you like a whore, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. You had lied and said you had killed him, but what if he comes back? What would you do then?

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” Ethan’s voice makes you jump, standing at the edge of your bed, pumping his cock languidly as he stares at your stilled fingers in your cunt.

“I-I told them I killed you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Th-That I stabbed you and that I think you’re dead somewhere.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, slowly crawling onto the bed and holding your wrist, pulling out your hand and pushing your fingers into his mouth. He groaned loudly at your taste, using his other hand to push into you and snap his hips forward. You screamed out as he lets your hand fall to his shoulder, kissing your cut forearm as he continued to roll his hips. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you baby… had to make sure they weren’t suspicious.”

“I-It’s okay,” you whisper back, shaking your head. “I can take it.”

He smiled, letting his tongue trail over the medical tape. “Can you? Hm?”

You whined, nodding as his hips started to move faster, groans falling from his lips as he desperately tried to speed up his thrusts. “I’ll take anything you give me.”

He groaned as he threw his head back- you really were a perfect little whore for him. Anything he said you’d obey, anything he did you’d take- it was just perfect.

“Fuck, you did such a good job that I’m about to cum,” he groaned, watching as you nodded mindlessly.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll take it!” You whimpered, throwing your head back. “I’ll take it, I’ll take everything-!”

A scream fell from your lips as he quickly took your legs over his shoulders, pushing you back enough so that he could fuck you at a new angle, ragged grunts falling from his lips. “Fuck… fuck, fuck!”

A groan fell from your mouth as you felt his cum spurt into you, warm and sticky as your stomach clenched and you came just at the feeling, whimpering softly as he continued to roll his hips. “You know I love you, right?”

You nodded mindlessly as he stroked your face, tilting his head. “Good… good, pretty girl, because I’m too fucking obsessed with you to lose you.”

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@nowitsmissing]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪   𓆩[@f-aggotry]𓆪 𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪   𓆩[@aerangi]𓆪   𓆩[@luv-lella]𓆪   𓆩[@teenwolfbitches28]𓆪   𓆩[@miawastakens]𓆪   𓆩[@hufflepuffsweetheart1]𓆪   𓆩[@nowitsmissing]𓆪   𓆩[@satans--beloved]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[rainba]

So… what happens if their darling isn’t attracted to men but… WOMEN?! 😳🫣

Just a thought I had for a while! I love all of your posts and your OCs are ADORABLE!!!!!!

-🇰🇷 anon

Luka and Kairos literally crying and shaking….. 

What do you mean you’re attracted to women… And not men!!?!?

｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡

In all honesty, I don’t think either one of them would be able to get over it.

For Kairos, when he first learns that his darling is only attracted to women, he wouldn’t believe it at first. For weeks on end, he tries to delude himself into thinking that you’re lying, only to be hit with the cold hard reality that you’ll just… Never be attracted to him. (T_T)

So– what does he do in response?

Well, he dresses up as a woman, of course! His plan is this: he masquerades as a woman, finds a way to make you fall in love with him, and the moment that you agree to be with him is when he’ll reveal that he’s actually a guy..!

…He hopes that if you fall in love with him first, you’ll be able to ignore the fact that he’s not actually a woman and can make an exception for him! Right..? Right?

If you don’t, he’d end up flying into a panic and would have a total mental breakdown.

“I– I’m sorry I’m not a woman! I… Please, please, w-we’re soulmates! Y-you can’t do this to me!” 

Kairos would be clinging to your legs and begging for you to accept his love. He'll do whatever it takes to have you- even if that results in guilt tripping and blackmail. (つω`｡) Even if you're not attracted to men, could you at least, you know... Pretend? Just for him?

He'll settle for you just playing pretend- so long as it's believable.

As for Luka, he’d be… A little more accepting of the fact that you only like women. Of course he’s absolutely devastated on the inside, but it’s not like he can do anything. He can’t change your sexuality, and he’s not trans, so…

All he can do is accept it. That’s what he tries to tell himself.

…But his obsession runs deep. It refuses to die. Even after you tell him you only like women, he’ll still find himself longing for you– and honestly, it all feels much more intense, now that he knows he truly just can’t have you.

Luka knows it's petty, but he finds himself sabotaging your relationships anyways. He stalks you, fantasizes about you, monopolizes your attention, tries to manipulate you into hating all of your other friends… It’s almost like he just can’t help himself. He feels pathetic, not being able to just handle the hard rejection and move on with his life. He needs you so badly.

This will keep happening until you fully cut Luka out of your life– where instead, he’ll be forced to forever linger on thoughts of you while keeping his distance. Even after you push him away, he still remains madly in love. (╯︵╰,)

Every relationship he tries to have afterwards, he would only be able to think of you, and what could’ve been. He would be the type to accidentally moan your name while he’s fucking somebody else… ^^;;; Sigh.

…If only you had liked men, too. .｡･ﾟﾟ･(＞_＜)･ﾟﾟ･

Thank you for sending the ask 🇰🇷 anon!!! And TYYYY for liking my stuff + OCs!

(っ˘ω˘ς )

Here's a pic of Kairos dressing up as a woman, hehe.

[naurimastaur]

Seeing them for the first time, again

Summary: losing a lung and your friends to wkcd meant Gally had a pretty shit year. What’s the harm however, in seeing a familiar face?

Pairing: Gally (maze runner) x nb!reader

A/N: this is so cringe but I’m so obsessed with him Idc if this flops with the dying tmr fandom// also this is my first attempt at angst so go easy on me

———————————————————————

“Hey everybody relax, we’re all on the same side here,” Gally called out amongst the chaos. The faces of his old friends turning towards him in apprehension. The familiarity of his voice momentarily pausing their act of rebellion, the concealment of his face enhancing their confusion.

“What do you mean, we’re all on the same side? Who the hell are you?” Thomas, ever the skeptic, interrogated.

Gally’s eyes weren’t focused on him however, for lingering in the back was the reason he joined the right arm to begin with; y/n. Wretched and messy but all in one piece, they stood in front of him.

It was like seeing them for the first time, all over again.

———————————————————————

Gally had heard the familiar siren of the box’s arrival. He wasn’t remotely interested most of the time on seeing who came up with it. On this day however Gally had overworked himself, and the idea of joyfully revelling in a greenie’s newfound terror seemed like a treat.

Towering over the box he spotted a figure hiding amongst the supplies, crouched like a caged animal, eyes wild and ferocious. He had to admit his curiosity was peaked, most greenies were crying at this point. This one however had looked at him in rage, a hand lingered behind their back.

“Where the hell am I?” They snarled, chest slightly heaving, the only real indicator of their fear.

“Your new home,” Gally had replied, a sarcastic smile on his face. His gaze never left the greenie, whose eyes had regarded each and every teen boy in front of them with predatory caution.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” They questioned, eyes never focused on one person.

“All part of the glade’s charm,” Gally said, before he had reached out an arm for them to take. His admiration controlled his limbs before his brain did.

The greenie considered his offer before they had hauled themselves up, and bolted towards the maze doors. Gally hadn’t bothered to run after them, leaving the job to someone who actually cared like Newt. He had however returned his gaze to the supplies, noticing one of the crates was missing a shard of wood, no doubt a fault of the greenie’s.

He had to admit he was enamoured from that point onwards.

———————————————————————

Now they stood adjacent, mirroring their first encounter. Y/n was looking at him with rekindled fury, this time paired with their tainted memories. Their gally had died back in the maze, physically and figuratively. This version was a stranger; a defying act against fate.

The fire within them was awakening once again, where it was quieted by the nature of the glade, it now burned with the raw desire for revenge.

Their wrath was overcoming their joy. For where their heart was aching for the comfort of Gally, for the ease of his embrace, the overbearing rage was all-consuming.

Wkcd had taken Gally, that much they were certain of. This was a trick, a taunting illusion created from the depths of their imagination and wkcd’s tampering. Their time confined within wkcd’s laboratories meant they were forever trapped in their own mind, never knowing for certain what was real.

What was real was that there was a time when Gally had been theirs, when his company mellowed their temper and gave them faith. But those feelings had died with him, things were different now. They were both different; no longer two sides of the same coin but two puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit anymore.

( why did I write this cringe corny ass ending)

———————————————————————

A/n: might write a part 2 if I’m feeling silly. Also, why did I describe y/n so animalistic? Bc I’m so crazy and quirky and I can do what I want!!!! If you’d like to leave a request for any character for me to write, feel free I’m open to any! To my Weasley twin enthusiasts I will write them again don’t sweat it, I’m going through a phase<3

@thescrunkler despite you not being in a tmr phase, you’re getting tagged anyways x

[lunacyxxx]

yandere/perv suguru geto mdni!!!

imagine if suguru found a forbidden binding vow that could alter what curses taste like when he eats them. he tests it out on some of his favorite foods and they work but only for a little while, he was doing trial and error

there’s another page to the notebook he found containing the vow, it was folded up and tucked in the pocket on the inside of the back cover.

it revealed that if he wanted the taste to be permanent he’d have to find someone willing to give them either their spit, blood…or cum😌

yall see where i’m goin w this?

soooo that’s where you come into play, you and suguru have had passing conversations and got along nicely.

you were oblivious to his obsession over you that first started when you two had a mission together during your first week at jujutsu tech. you had saved him from a curse that caught him off guard thus led him to admiring your strength and beauty while doing so.

so suguru was with you talking about how he hated the tastes of curses, he described in detail how they tasted which made you lightly gag and feel sorry for him

just like he wanted you to

so sooner or later when he started getting closer to you and making himself a constant part of your life, how could you refuse to help him with the technique he called when he showed up at your dorn feigning exhaustion and agitation?

now here he was, fingers gripping your thighs possibly leaving bruises as his tongue was pressed flat against your clit and his head was nodding, causing the wet muscle to grind on your overstimulated clit.

you lost count of how many times you came, you were babbling his name weakly gripping his loose hair.

“you taste so fucking good, i could stay here forever,” suguru spoke before beginning to suck on your entrance. his tongue delving in and stroking your inner walls, lewd groans and slurps come from him as he shamelessly eats you out.

he pulls away and rubs your clit with his thumb, you can barely catch on to what he’s whispering against your thigh. suguru smirks after he finishes the vow, he goes back to slurping on your pussy until you cum yet again.

maybe it was the growing crush that you’d never admit you had on suguru, but you just can’t help but to get wet every time you’re near him now.

[carniferous]

okay hello i’ve come to offer a vague concept ❤️🤲 the first thing that came into my mind is like being in a car. and something being wrong w the car. which sounds so stupid but is hopefully vague enough?? also idk if i’m meant to specify a ship but (and you probs already know what i’m gonna say) ur bartylus genuinely changed my life and it’s always on my mind and im obsessed w it forever and ever and would die if you ever wrote them again (but also like. no pressure. i don’t wanna try and tie you down to one specific pathway) ANYWAY i hope this is vague enough but also not too vague that you’re just staring at me blankly rn… icl babe u really didn’t set any parameters so i’m kinda trying to spear fish in the dark here but im gonna stop talking now…. eagerly (but patiently!!) awaiting ur response <33

LMAO NOOO thank you so much this is exactly the level of vagueness i wanted!!! i simply need to let things cook in my beautiful mind palace before i can write + vague concepts work best for that

anyway i tried to do it justice for u. it's more barty character study than bartylus sorry but. also it's compeltely unedited!! do with that what you will xoxo

“I knew it,” Regulus murmured, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. He was slumped down in his seat, the lines of his face stark in the pale moonlight. The motorway stretched out empty and endless before them. 

Barty clenched his jaw and turned the key in the ignition once more. The engine sputtered loudly, just enough to give him some small shred of hope, before it promptly died for the fifth time. 

“Dammit,” he hissed, thumping his hand against the steering wheel. He turned to Regulus, “What?”

Regulus lowered his hand and glared fiercely. “I knew I was going to die in this metal box the moment you persuaded me to get in.”

“And yet, you still let me persuade you.”

“Barty.”

“What?” Barty grinned. “You’re not going to die, Regulus. Cars are only dangerous when they’re moving.”

Regulus scoffed. He looked about five minutes away from having a conniption—which meant that Barty had about three minutes of continuing to fuck with him before he got properly angry. His hands were clenched in the fabric of his trousers, and when he turned his face towards the window, Barty could glimpse the deep shadows under his eyes as they appeared under the light. 

He felt his heart soften, just a tad. 

“I have a plan,” Barty said.

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back that they disappeared into his skull: “Oh, joy. Another plan.”

“They’ve gotten us this far, haven’t they?” 

“Yes, stranded on the side of the road with you,” muttered Regulus. “Exactly where I want all my plans to lead me.”

At that, Barty felt a strange, wild sort of affection swell up within him. He wanted to lean over and bite the nape of Regulus’s neck hard enough to draw blood, wanted to crowd him against the door until all that bluster and exasperation fell away. But there would be time for that.

“Don’t you want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Regulus said sullenly. “I want—”

He stopped. Barty’s grin abruptly fell away. He reached over and cradled the back of Regulus’s head, firmly enough that he had no choice but to face him. Regulus kept his eyes downcast, an unhappy twist to his mouth, a sickly tinge to his face that the low light couldn’t hide. 

“Hey,” Barty said, and he curled his hand into a fist in Regulus’s hair. “Look at me.”

Regulus’s gaze flickered up.

He was a living bruise, a walking heartache. Two weeks ago, Barty had looked at him as they packed their things for the end of term, and he’d known that Regulus wouldn’t survive another summer in that house—not as himself, anyway. He knew it the way Sirius must have, before he left, and he understood. Better than he’d like to admit. Sometimes it was easier to pack your bags than to watch someone like Regulus tread water and insist that they weren’t moments away from sinking. 

In that respect, though, Barty was different. He didn’t care what Regulus wanted. He wasn’t going to leave him to drown. 

Besides. Barty was fed up, himself.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, and Regulus listened with wide, unblinking eyes: “We’re not going home. Do you understand? There’s nothing back there. Nothing. Forget it, Regulus.”

A beat of silence. Barty’s grip loosened, he made to pull back, and then—

“What about your mother?” Regulus asked with a horrible little glint in his gaze. 

“What about her?” Barty replied without missing a beat.

Regulus blinked. Barty almost laughed at him. Could have, at the idea that Regulus thought he’d trapped him with that. His mother, who’d wanted Berty out of that house perhaps even more than he himself did. Regulus could never understand that.

What he could understand, though, was the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of freedom. Of the surprising vastness of your own mind when it was vacant of everyone but yourself. Of sitting in a car stranded on the side of the road and becoming aware of your own mortality. Death was suddenly an end to something real and full of potential. 

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I turn seventeen in five hours,” Barty said. “Once midnight hits, the Trace will disappear. I’ll fix the car then.”

“You don’t know how to fix it.”

“At least I know it’s called a car and not a ‘metal box.’”

“You want us to spend five hours in this thing?” Regulus said, as though catching up with his own disbelief.

“Technically, seven hours,” said Barty. “We still have to make it to Bath. And then, once we pick up the twins…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Barty shrugged—a loose, slouching thing. He noticed Regulus’s eyes track the motion with nothing short of predatory glee. “Orgy in the metal box?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” Barry cajoled, grinning from ear to ear. “Why else would you run away with me?”

There was a long moment of silence, in which Regulus gazed, baleful and petulant, out at the road in front of them and Barty gazed at him. Already, he was more animated, more tetchy, more acerbic than he’d been just days ago. The cobwebs slowly clearing from his eyes.

Sometimes, Barty recognized Regulus like the slant of himself in a shard of glass. But other times, Regulus was just very beautiful. Barty wondered if there an element of vanity in wanting him, to the prideful joy he got out of fucking him out of his own head. The idea that he could press Regulus down hard enough to mold him back into himself. 

On very rare occasions, he wondered if he was like his father. If the only love he knew was what he learned from the voice in his head as it puppeted his limbs about. If that presence was more himself than he was. A normal person would look at it with revulsion, would see complete and total control as a firsthand abomination.

But it was because Barty knew the abomination firsthand that he knew also the complete, total, clean satisfaction of such control.

“You were hardly the first to ask,” Regulus said mildly.

Even in the darkness, Barty could see the flush travel down his neck. He grinned and, without another word, reached over and unhooked Regulus’s seatbelt.

“I didn’t ask,” he replied, just as mild.

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

found you - ch. 5 (part III)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

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

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten), gaslighting, manipulation, underage drinking, praising, unprotected & protected sex, rough sex, mentions of suicide & depression, toxic jealousy, begging, chokehold, fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, w33d, mentions of hard drugs (ecstasy, cocaine)

word count/plot: [15.5k!] 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: ok this part took me forever to write bc i lowkey suck ass at writing backstories. hopefully ya'll r able to understand what i wrote for that part (you'll see what i mean once u read it). also i skim editted this chapter so if some of it is in lowercase, don't blame me. i actually prefer to type in lowercase but since i started writing this fic with correct capitalization i wanted to be consistent w that. anyway, have fun reading. i'm so excited to read ur guy's comments hehe

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

Ara pulled the blanket up to Millie’s shoulders. She was passed out, like most of her classmates once they brought the party inside the penthouse suite of the hotel. It was nearly 5 am so she couldn’t blame them.

“Psst.”

Ara glanced over to see Gojo walking her way, a drink in hand. She knew he didn’t drink so..

“If that drink is for me then you can put it away.”

He grinned, “Nah it’s water.”

“Oh,” she took it from him and then took a sip, only to spit it out, “That’s vodka!”

“Eheheh,” She shoved him as he sat down on the couch beside her. He motioned towards Millie, “She’s out?”

Ara nodded, “She drank enough for everyone combined.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

Ara squinted, “You don’t even drink.”

“Shhh,” he slipped his hand into hers, “Can I steal you now?”

“For what?”

“I have to show you something.”

She was silent for a moment, “It’s too early for a prank.”

He grinned brightly, “It’s not a prank. I promise.”

She let him take her by the hand and lead the way. As they walked through, she spotted Choso laying down passed out a bean bag and Geto asleep on the couch across from him, his leg hanging off the edge.

Gojo led her to one of the rooms, opening the door a bit carefully to peek inside and make sure it was the right one before pushing the door wide open for her. He motioned with his chin for her to go in, a little smirk on his face.

She entered to see balloons covering nearly every square inch of the floor, making the bed almost look like an island. The lit candles made the vast, modern room smell of comforting vanilla, maybe a hint of strawberry as well. The glass windows were wide open, revealing a sickening view of their beautiful city.

She was astonished, “Gojo..” she was about to turn around to face him but suddenly a hand rested on back, urging her forward.

“Keep going.”

She complied with his gentle pushes towards the bed, pushing aside balloons as they went. That was when she spotted the rather big box on the flower petal covered bed. The box was perfectly wrapped in glossy white wrapping paper with a pastel purple bow at the center.

She sat down on the bed, her eyes widening as she took in the box’s size.

He spoke quietly, “Open it.”

She glanced up at him, “Toru, what did you do..”

 “Just open it, open it.” he urged.

She noticed his barely contained excitement and shook her head subtly. He’d already given her so much, much more than she could ever ask for and yet here he was. Giving her a gift, as if he didn’t give her several on the daily.

He plopped down on the bed across from her, resting his head on his arm as he eagerly watched her pick up the box.

She ripped open the neat wrapping only to gape when she saw the orange box underneath. Thin black ribbon was tied around the box as well, but she’d be a fool to miss the ‘Hermes’ logo printed at the center.

“Gojo, what—“ she sputtered, at a loss for words, “You.. oh my god.”

His barely contained smirk broke out into a full grin. He continued to urge her, “Keep opening it.” He was almost tempted to open it for her at the pace she was going.

Once she got the wrapper fully off, he easily pulled the ribbon loose for her. Watching with a smile as she opened the box. 

Inside was her very first Birkin. It was mainly off-white, with an ombré effect of light brown at its edges. The crocodile pattern was unmistakable. The shiny, white-gold diamond latch glittered iridescently under the dim light. (a/n: if anyone is curious abt the bag https://madisonavenuecouture.com/products/hermes-birkin-25-himalaya-niloticus-crocodile-diamond-encrusted-hardware)

She was in awe.

He cupped her elbow, thumb gliding over her forearm gently, “Happy birthday, kitten.”

She set the box down, too shocked to even touch the bag itself. This was unlike any of the Birkin’s she’d ever seen—even though she’d only seen them in videos and in Shoko’s mother’s closet but still. Its grandeur was obvious and the diamonds-real diamonds on a bag? she couldn’t even comprehend it.

“Satoru… how? Why?” It seemed english wasn’t coming to her very easily, “How much was this?”

His hand slid up her elbow to her nape. He sat up to kiss her neck. His lips on her throat made her heartbeat scatter.

“Nothing compared to you.”

“Toru,” she backed away slightly, “This isn't smart. I don’t even wear bags that much-“

“Now you will.”

She met his gaze, only for her pounding heartbeat to quicken. He was looking at her with so much adoration, maybe a hint of lust but most of all, his gaze was filled with..

She glanced away, murmuring, “This is too much.”

He always did this. Gifting her the most expensive things so easily. It never failed to make her uncomfortable at first, making her feel like he was trying to compensate her for her affection only until she realized he truly liked it—giving her things. His love language was gifts.

His fingers caressed her hair for a moment before he let go of her nape.

“Open the purse.”

Her eyes widened, “What?” 

He didn’t respond, merely pushing the box towards her.

When she didn’t move he took her hand and placed it over the Birkin’s diamond latch, expectantly waiting for her to open it.

She opened the latch hesitantly, her fingertips gliding over the bag's rigid yet wearable material before slipping her hand within. She immediately felt something.

She withdrew her hand to see a small velvet box in her palm. She opened the box to reveal a beautiful petite white-gold diamond ring. It had a twisted over pattern, with diamonds embedded in each twist. She nearly gasped.

He suddenly reached within the collar of his shirt and shuffled out a thin silver chain around his neck. At the end of the chain was a ring made of the same material as hers, shaped more like a band.

His face was flushed.

“This ring is my promise to you.” His bright blue eyes met hers and he looked serious-for once.

She noticed his adam’s apple bob in his neck.

“I promise to keep you the happiest girl in the world. I promise to give you every piece of me and more,” The corner of his lip lifted subtly, “I promise to burn down the world for you, if that’s what you want-“

She chuckled airily, shaking her head.

He took her hand, “Listen to me, I know I haven’t always been the best man but I can’t live without you, you hear? I can’t live without you.”

His eyes dropped to her hand in his, his brows furrowing,  “When you broke up with me I hated it. I hated being away from you..” 

“I never stopped thinking about you, you know,” he scanned her face, “You're right in front me and I still can’t.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze.

“I love you, Ara.” he said softly.

His thumb ran over her ring finger, “You’re getting a promise ring now but there’s gonna be an engagement ring here one day. You’re gonna be my wife.” he spoke so definitively, as if it were already fated.

She let out a small, awkward laugh, “Your seriously talking about marria-”

“I am serious.”

“You sure?” her voice was low, tantalizing, “Shoko told me you don’t believe in monogamy.”

He chuckled, “I do now.”

“Why?”

“I found you.”

She stared at him as he slid the ring onto her finger, his hand lingering over hers before he returned her stare.

The next thing he knew she was crawling into his lap, drawing him a hug so tight her narrow arms shook from the strength she was exerting. He smiled. He wound his arms around her just as tight while peppering her temple with kisses. His hand tangled itself in her hair before tugging her head back.

He leaned towards her but she pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him before their lips met.

“You can’t take that back y’know.”

“What?”

Her hands tightened around his collar, completely losing her train of thought when she felt his hard-on brush her ass. 

Her cheeks grew warm, “e-everything you just said.”

“Never.” he panted, suddenly digging his fingers into her ass before flipping her over onto the bed—him atop her. “Never, never, never.”

Her eyes widened when she saw the mirror on the ceiling. She could see everything.. her reflection.. his face in her neck, eagerly leaving love bites.. his muscular shoulders rippling under his shirt as he reached between her legs, spreading them. His fingertips grazed her pussy lips before curling around her thong. He yanked it off.

She jolted, a loud gasp leaving her lips.

His face came before her, the ring on his thin chain dangling between them, “You’re mine Ara, forever.”

She threw her head back, her head resting on his shoulder while his face dug into the crook of her nape, his lips territorially marking her neck.

His cock pistoned in and out underneath her, his hips smacking into her ass as she sat completely naked over his lap. She was making the most obscene noises, she couldn’t help it. The hand of his that wasn’t gripping her hip was right above her cunt, his fingers working her clit.

“fuckk—toru! toru!!hnnn~” her body arched.

His fingers dug into her hip, his cock slamming into her harder. His finger playing with her clit at a dizzying pressure.

“you feelso fucking good, birthday girl.” he rasped out.

She whined.

He watched her writhe atop of him, her head bouncing on his shoulder with each forceful fuck. Her hair jumped with each thrust of his hips, the dark strands splayed out over his chest, shoulder and neck. Her mouth was wide open. Her tits swinging up and down hypnotically.

The tear stained black mascara trailing down her cheeks made his cock jerk with more stamina. He bit her narrow shoulder.

She yanked at his fluffy white hair, “TORU!!”

“cum ara, cum right fucking now.”

She shook her head wildly. “satoru..please, i can’t-f-fuck.”

His cock hammered into her, she could barely breathe. everything hurt. she swore she could feel his cock head swell within her. his cock was so hard.

She gasped out between fucks, “hnn—can’t, toru. can’t. so big. too big.”

“i know i’m big baby. but your cunny can take it, i know she can.”

She tried to push away his hand at her clit, “i can’t,” she cried, “t’much—“

His hand remained fixed over her navel, instead his fingers picked up the pace. his cock grinding into her cervix, making her cunt let out the most embarrassingly wet sounds she’d ever heard.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, “ohhhhhnnnnm~”

Her body burned with pleasure. his cock felt obscenely hot inside her as she felt herself twitch around him. His cock made her feel so deeply full, she wondered if her cunt had finally been stretched to the limit–if he’d finally broken her.

“Ohmygod-my god-nghhh!”

Her body jerked atop him, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her. Feeling like this shouldn’t be real–all of this-him-couldn’t be real.  she couldn’t take it.

She moaned weakly. her cunt spraying liquids despite him still being inside her—deliriously grinding his cock deeper into her. His cockhead touching her deepest parts.

“Araaaaa~” he sighed brokenly into her ear. She felt like heaven.

Her eyes flitted open as her jerking subsided. She caught sight of herself in the mirror above and froze. The sight caused a cold jolt up her spine.

She looked... slutted out. her eyeshadow, mascara and liner had all blurred together into a seamless smoky eye, minus for the trails of supposedly waterproof mascara running down the corners of her eyes. her lipstick was smudged. her skin was covered in hickeys, including one on her chin. several on her cleavage and tits. Her nipples were surrounded by teeth marks.

His white hair tickled her cheek as he shifted slightly, his cock still inside her. His hot breath traveled down her neck, making her skin tingle. she couldn’t help but notice how large his muscular thighs looked underneath her smooth ones.

Her body jerked once more, an aftermath of her high.

“Good girl.” he praised, giving her clit a small squeeze–making her entire body twitch. She whined as he laughed, his fingers continuing to explore her. He touched the wetness along her pussy lips.

She heard his breath hitch beside her ear, “This pussy is gonna be the death of me.”

Her cunt constricted around his cock and he growled. his fingers suddenly digging deep into her hips, making her yelp.

She tried to grab his wrists and pry his hands off but it was too late.

His cock plunged into her ruthlessly.

She felt his hot, white cum spill into her. spurting along her cramped walls. she felt it travel and dribble out of her cunt, spilling down her inner thighs.

his cum was so warm.

She squeezed her thighs together, which only drew out more cum from his cockhead. she shivered, a low whine leaving her.

“Happy birthday.” he whispered above her.

Her eyes flashed opened only to close a millisecond after when his hips bucked into her again, slowly and deep. fucking his seed back into her.

He hummed as she mewled meekly underneath him. his shoulders flexed.

“You're not even someone i should go to for this.”

“What—why?”

“Cuz you drive hella fast.”

He snapped her seat belt in place for her, “Listen, I’m still a good teacher.”

“Are you?”

“I am.”

“How?”

“I just am.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Love the confidence but seriously, why can’t you just let me have a driving instructor?”

“Cuz i want to teach you, kitten. Isn’t it gonna be so cute when you tell our kids one day-“ he mockingly began to use a kid voice, “ ‘mommy how did you learn how to drive? ‘your daddy taught me—“

She punched him in the shoulder, making him yelp. He immediately cradled his arm, groaning as if she’d brutalized him.

“Can you stop being a dumbass?” she gripped the steering wheel, “Tell me what to do.”

“Get in the back seat.”

Her glare was fierce as he quickly amended, “Okay, okay, pull out this parking spot.”

“Okay.” she pressed the gas pedal only for the car to make a loud ‘vroooom’ sound but not move.

“It’s not moving.” she stated.

He was laughing, “Because you didn’t change the gear.”

“You didn’t tell me that!”

The maid opened the door for them and they walked through. Gojo’s laughter filling the lobby.

He shook his arm around Geto’s shoulders, “Suguruuu, don’t be jealous.”

Geto shouldered him off, “I’m not jealous.”

Ara walked in after them, eyes glued to her phone.

The maid faced them, “Gojo sir, I must inform you your Dad is here. He’s currently in the gardens.”

Gojo’s grin immediately faltered, “He is?”

The maid nodded.

His voice deadpanned, “When did he come?”

“Less than an hour ago, sir.”

“Hmm,” he nodded subtly, “Thanks Macy.”

Macy merely nodded before excusing herself. Ara caught Geto’s tense expression.

Gojo spoke first, “You guys can chill in my room. I won’t be long.”

She stepped up to Gojo, “What’s wrong?”

A small smile found its way to the corner of his lip, “Nothings wrong,” his hand slipped up the side of her face, “Just wasn’t expecting him that’s all.”

She searched his face, “Are you gonna be alright?”

His smile widened, “I’ll be perfect, baby.”

She stared out the window of Gojo’s study. Her hand tightening around the circular windowsill as her eyes raked the expanse of the well kept greenery before deciding it was useless. Wherever they were they wasn’t visible from her vantage point.

She was drawn from thoughts when a loud ‘thunk’ resounded from somewhere behind her.

She turned to see Geto with a book at his feet. He bent over to retrieve it, “Oops.”

She waited a brief moment, watching as he dusted off the cover before flipping it open-skimming the pages.

“Geto.”

He immediately glanced up, his eyes a silent ‘yes?’

“Is his Dad bad?”

He glanced sideways for a moment before asking, “Satoru hasn’t mentioned him?” The question wasn’t mocking, merely inquiring with a calmness that felt almost reassuring.

There was a beat of silence, “No.”

He shut the book in his hand, a light sigh escaping him, “I don’t like him, if that’s what you wanna know. You should let Satoru tell you the whole story though.”

“There’s a story?”

He smiled slightly, “Isn’t there always?”

The bedroom doors swung open, immediately making Ara’s head snap up from the book in her lap. She sat up on the bed just as Gojo entered. If he’d been stressed it was hard to tell because the second his eyes landed on her a wide grin swept across his lips.

He crawled onto the bed, easily crowding her space to kiss her neck before laying his head on her lap.

“Satoru.” She rested her hand on forehead, pushing his hair back, “How was it?”

He sighed, eyes flitting closed, “It was fine. He left—thank god.”

“You don’t like him?”

His eyes fluttered open, examining her. He rarely talked about his family and she wasn’t slow enough to believe that was just a coincidence.

He shook his head. His index finger twirling around a strand of her hair, “He wanted to see you.”

“He knows about me?” she asked, shocked.

His hand went still within her hair, “Everyone knows about you.”

She held his gaze for a moment, “So why didn’t you let him see me?”

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch, “Cuz you don’t like meeting new people.”

“..and?”

“Cuz he doesn’t deserve to yet.” His voice held more of an edge than she expected.

And that look in his eye…she hadn’t seen that on him in a while. It reminded her of when she’d struck him, the first night he had his way with her.

He took her hand from his forehead and slid it down to his cheek, lightly kissing her wrist as he did so.

“Let me explain,” he paused, as if gathering his thoughts–until his brows furrowed and he realized he wasn’t sure where to begin.

He played with her fingers as he spoke, “My Dad has a twin. Identical. But they couldn’t be more different–honestly.” he chuckled quietly.

“How?”

 “I guess my Dad’s more likable–had this quality about him that made people want to listen. While my Uncle.. well, let's say he’s persuasive in his own way.”

He continued, “The point is. They competed with each other a lot-over everything and anything. My Dad thought of their competition as harmless fun but my Unc-not so much. He’ll never admit it though, if you ask him, but everyone knows.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone in my family,” he clarified, before smirking up at her, “It’s gonna be your family too y’know so pay attention.”

She rolled her eyes, “What do you think I’m doing.”

He smiled slightly, “Anywho, Unc should’ve felt like he won this little competition since he was given full reins of the family business but I guess he still held a grudge. Dunno if it’s cuz Dad’s political success or Dad bein’ Gramps favorite–or Mom but-”

He cut himself off, “Right, so my Mom was actually a bet between Dad and Unc. She was Unc’s college crush and for fun they decided to see who could get with her. Dad won her over and they ended up falling in love. They got married but.. my Mom never got used to it-the politician life.”

He went on, “Dad’s career as the Director of National Intelligence was actually very strategic. It was something my Gramps wanted to get his eyes in on cuz oil refinery is more political than you might think, like they're some countries we weren't permitted to source from due to a bad political climate–even though our company is private. It was something Gramps wanted to work around and possibly manipulate—”

Ara blinked, “Wouldn’t that be illegal?”

“Just a little,” he smirked, “It wasn’t just that though, you’d have to ask Gramps the details–except he’s dead, but anyway~”

Ara’s eyes widened as he nonchalantly went on, “The beef between Dad and Unc really hit the fan a few months after Gramps died–which isn’t surprising cuz Gramps was sorta the mediator but.. I guess, it was inevitable.”

Despite his nonchalance she could tell his next words were harder for him to say, “So basically Unc had a business deal going with Israel, worth about $2 billion but since-everything going on politically, socially, you name it-Dad did not want to get involved, especially monetarily. But Unc didn’t agree, he wanted to juice as much money as he could since the US was sending Israel money anyway and he wanted a piece.”

He continued, “Dad knew he would try to see the deal through with or without his call so he started involving himself in the family business to supervise Unc which he was not happy about, so you can imagine they argued–a lot. At the office, at the house, everywhere. Dad ended up kicking Unc outta the house and threatened to hurt him if he came back.”

He sighed, “I didn’t know Dad kicked him out, I wasn’t there for that argument. Instead I was sad that Unc wasn’t coming around anymore cuz we usually hung out a lot. We hung out more than Dad and I did anyway.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t suspect anything when Unc called me to let him in so I did. We talked for a bit, caught up, he gave me a bottle of alcohol to give my Mom. I told him to give it to her himself but he said he wanted it to be a surprise for her and asked me to keep it a secret that he came by.”

She saw something flicker in his expression as he went on, he stopped playing with her fingers.

“Mom wasn’t in a great mental state–she never was, to be honest, not after marrying Dad. She hated the fame, paparazzi, everything that came with it but she tolerated it because she loved Dad. I-” Gojo never stuttered, “I didn’t know that she was an alcoholic because she hid it from me so well. She always acted happy when she was with me. She never wanted me to see her.. down. I didn’t know Unc and Dad helped her through the alcoholism and depression cuz I didn’t even know it was an issue.”

His voice was tight but he quickly recovered, “So I left the bottle on her vanity, just like he asked and she drank it all, breaking her sobriety of six months. Dad found her drunk and they started fighting–I didn’t realize they were arguing about her sobriety, I just thought he was mad she drank in general so I tried to intervene but Mom left the room once I got there. Dad and I ended up arguing but nothin' came of it cuz he basically told me to shut the fuck up and get out of his face.”

His bright blue eyes were somewhat dull as he glanced up at her, “I should tell you my Dad isn’t usually an asshole but when he’s mad he’s a different person. Everything ticks him off. He was.. in this mood for a while and Mom breaking her sobriety didn’t help. She started drinking a lot again and they were just yelling all the time. No one would tell me what was going on, Mom was pushing me away and I blamed Dad for it. It felt like he was mad at everyone for no reason and I wanted him to stop.”

He exhaled, “Unc came by again and I told him everything-about Mom and Dad fighting.. how it was.. getting to me. Unc asked me why they were fighting and I told him I didn’t know. Unc then asked me if Dad was hitting Mom and I realized I wasn’t sure. But the theory made sense because why else would Mom avoid me? She probably didn’t want me to see her bruises or marks and explain that Dad did them.”

“Obviously this theory made 10 year old me extremely upset so Unc’s solution was to give me his gun. He told me the next time I overheard Mom and Dad fighting to wave it around to scare Dad off-”

Ara’s eyes widened, “What–he gave a gun to a kid? What type of solution is that?”

A low, dry laugh left him, “At the time it made sense to me cuz Unc and I used to go hunting together and all that but he also told me Dad kicked him out the estate so I kinda did want to scare him some way cuz he really felt like public enemy 1. It felt like he was tearing the family apart.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “That night…when I was in bed I heard Mom scream–and a shit ton of thrashing. I didn’t think, I grabbed the gun and ran. I saw Dad on top of somebody, throwing punches and I-I didn’t–” he spoke through gritted teeth before exhaling, “I didn’t mean to hit him.”

Her eyebrows skyrocketed, “You shot your Dad?”

“I did. Straight through the head.”

Ara’s jaw dropped, “But wait-but your Dad.. he’s still ali-”

He squeezed her hand, “Listen, listen. I thought he was on top of Mom, beating her but it turns out he was on top of my Uncle. Mom was just in the room, yelling at him to stop because I guess my Uncle just showed up uninvited.”

He stared at her, fingers tightening around hers, “My Dad died that night. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I was freaking out but Unc came up with a plan.”

He closed his eyes, “Unc said he would take the blame. He told us to tell the cops that he snuck into the estate-which he did-and that he tried to hurt Dad but then Dad shot him. Except he would pretend that he was Dad. And that the man who died was Unc.”

She was astounded, “So… your Uncle pretended to be your Dad?”

He nodded, “Yes, and he still is. The world currently thinks my Dad is alive.”

Ara was speechless as he continued, “No one else knows because Unc and Dad are identical twins. Same blood type and-miraculously-same fingerprints, etc.”

She blinked as he sat up beside her, not letting go of her hand.

He looked at her expression with a small knowing smile, “I know you have questions.”

She glanced over at him, “Why did he do that? Did he not want you to face any repercussions?”

He nodded, “I thought he was protecting me but now I know he schemed it all. He manipulated me.”

Ara’s eyes widened, “How do you know?”

“He knew about my mom’s alcoholism and told me to give her a bottle. He sneaks into the estate and causes drama the same night he gives me a gun? A gun with the safety off?” He shakes his head, “It's not a coincidence at all.”

“If he wanted to kill your Dad, why couldn’t he just kill him himself?”

“That would’ve got him nowhere but jail. But making me do it gives him all the leverage. Pretending to be Dad to protect me gives him everything he wants. My mom, Dad’s position-his connections, the family business—all in his lap.”

He laughed dryly to himself, “Well the only thing he didn’t get for long was Mom. She killed herself.”

“What?!” she exclaimed in shock.

“It was two weeks after Dad died. Found her body in the pond by the gardens. She overdosed on prozac.”

“Prozac?” Ara gasped, “the antidepressant?”

He nodded, a small sad smile spreading across his lips, “Ironic isn’t it.”

She was silent for the longest moment, processing it all. She almost couldn’t believe it was real. It felt like the plot of some really dark CEO drama but this was reality. His reality—his life. He’d only been 10 years old. A ten year old murderer.

“I wanted to believe Unc had something to do with her death.. but I know he would never hurt her. He loved her.. She left me on her own.”

Her eyes widened. This was the saddest she’d ever seen him. His eyes glossier than normal, his jaw clenched tight and yet his lips were twisted in a bitter smile.

“I would’ve done anything she asked. We could’ve taken Unc down together but she left me.”

She squeezed his hand, “Toru-“ she murmured.

“Isn’t it funny? I feel like I found out more about her after she died. All her thoughts were in her diary, everything. If she’d just told me when she was alive-I could’ve—“ he shook his head, a shiny tear slipped down his cheek, “I don’t kn-I-“

“Stop.” she pulled him into her chest, “Stop.”

He sagged into her smaller frame, clutching her waist so tight she nearly lost her breath. For the first time in her life, she felt him trembling.

Her small fingers raked through his hair, “You were just a kid. How were you supposed to know everything she was going through? She probably didn’t tell you because she wanted to protect you.”

His arms wrapped around her tighter, “She could’ve protected me by staying alive.”

Her hand went still in his hair, “Don’t you know already, adults are selfish.”

She then realized that maybe that wasn’t the most constructive thing to say.

“I’m sorry, I meant-“

“No, you're right.” his voice was muffled in her sweater, “They are selfish. Everyone is. You have to be in this world.”

He laughed softly to himself, “Eat or be eaten.”

She shook her head, clutching his chin to make him look up, “I don’t know about all that but you have to know that her.. doing that isn’t your fault-“

“Doing what? Killing herself?”

Ara’s mouth opened partially before closing. Then opening again, “Yes.”

He smiled faintly, “You can say it y’know. She killed he-“

She flinched-snapping, “Stop, it’s not a joke.” her hands tightened around his face, “what i-i’m saying is that it’s not your fault. It was her choice. She knew the consequences. You don’t have to agree with her but you have to respect it.”

She cupped his face more gently, “It doesn’t make you any less of a person, it’s what you do now that counts. She’s still watching over you.”

His gaze seemed distant, “She’ll get her justice.”

Ara blinked, “Justice?”

His eyes suddenly sharpened, “My uncle. I still need him. I don’t know how to run the business myself yet.”

Her eyes widened, “What—y-you don’t mean kill him, right?”

Suddenly a wicked grin appeared upon his lips. He leaned close, his lips brushing over hers, “Some things are worse than death, kitten.”

She gently rubbed the face mask across her cheeks. It was a yummy baby pink color and smelled rather delicious. strawberry poundcake. it already made her skin feel cool with one application.

She used the little tool it came with to scoop more product and apply it to her forehead only to flinch when she saw Gojo in the bathroom. he stood with his back to the door, arms crossed. a crooked smile on his lips.

“Hey kitten~”

She shook her head, “I hate you.”

He grinned, making his way towards her, “You love mee.”

He stood behind her, his hands interlaced behind himself. He bent down to kiss her on the head but she moved out of his way.

“Why do you like scaring me?” she grumbled, rubbing in her face mask with a bit more ferocity.

“heh. it’s not my fault you're as unaware as a baby chick.” He held her shoulders and kissed her temple-where her face mask hadn’t been applied yet.

She shoved him off, “toru! my face mask.”

It seemed a bit of the mask had landed on the tip of his nose. he wiped it away with his thumb, looking at it curiously, “mmm, smells yummy.”

She raised a brow as he continued to stare at the blob on his finger and gripped his wrist the second he brought his finger towards his lips.

“Are you stupid? it’s not edible.”

She grabbed a nearby hand towel and hastily wiped it off his finger before tossing the towel somewhere on the counter.

He watched silently as she continued applying the face mask on her face. His eyes glowing with curiosity.

“What’s it supposed to do?”

“Make you poreless.”

He picked up the face mask jar to read the description just as she’d been reaching for some more. She sucked her teeth impatiently.

He slid the jar back to her. He blinked innocently, “Can I use some?”

“No.”

“Whyyyy~”

“Cuz you're already poreless.”

That made him grin. He touched the sides of his face as he leaned towards the mirror, “Am i?”

She rolled her eyes. It was too early for his buffoonery. This was supposed to be self-care sunday. emphasis on self. And she’d told him that, yet here he was.

He leaned against the bathroom counter, facing her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “If you wanted a face mask you could’ve jus asked me.”

Her brows furrowed-confused-only to freeze when she realized. She grimaced, “Your nasty as hell.”

“Oh come on~”

She shoved him as he neared her, “Stop. You're actually annoying me.”

“Araaaa~”

“Stop.”

“Okay, okay fine. I’ll stop. I promise.”

“Promise what.”

“Not to annoy you.”

“Then why are you coming closer to me?”

He tugged her close, resting his chin atop her head. Her small frame easily fitting into his chest.

“Because i wanna be near you ‘kay?”

He kissed the corner of her neck, his hands gently squeezing her shoulders. She sighed.

He stared at her in the mirror as she continued to finish up the last of the face mask. His hands running up and down her arms repeatedly. the action oddly reassuring.

He kissed the top of her head, “Last night was fun right?” he muttered into her hair.

She blushed at the memory, “y-yeah.”

There were two things she found out last night. 1, Haibara knew how to throw a party. 2, never play hide and seek with Gojo. He’d pick the best hiding spot and no one would find you both, leaving you open to your demise at his hands.

Ara couldn’t walk after.

He smirked slightly, “What was your favorite part?”

She thought it over, “hmm probably when Geto shot all those bottles in a row. I didn’t think his aim was that good. oh! and that drink Shoko made, um, what’s it called-“

“Espresso martini.”

“Yes! That was soo good.”

his smirk widened as he nuzzled her head, “You drank a lot of green tea shots too.”

She nodded.

He kissed the crown of her head, “You look so good knocking shots back.”

She reddened, mumbling, “Shut up.”

He squeezed her shoulders once more, “Aren’t you gonna ask me my favorite part?”

She reddened more, “No.”

His arms slipped around her shoulders, squeezing her into him, “Pleaseeee~~~”

“Ah! toru! let go-“

He hugged her tighter.

“aHh! i can’t breathe. fine, fine!”

“Yayyy.” he loosened his hold on her and she smacked his arm.

“You promised not to annoy me.”

“Oopsies,” he grinned while staring at her ass as she bent down to pick up her fallen hair brush.

When she stood up, he placed his hands on her hips. pressing his groin right against her ass. She gasped, freezing the second she felt his erection.

He nipped at her ear, “My favorite part was holding your hips, just like this,” his fingers squeezed her hips, “and watching your ass bounce on my cock in that tiny little closet. Hearing your cute lil whimpers cuz you wanna keep quiet so bad. always so scared of getting caught-“

She faltered forward, her hands flat against the bathroom counter as he began to thrust his hard-on into her. as if his jeans and her towel weren’t in the way.

He nipped at her nape, leaving love bites along her soft skin. as if it wasn’t decorated enough.

“Your pussy gets wet so fast, kitten. everytime i fuck you your pussy makes such slutty sounds. mm-“

She gasped when the tip of his clothed cock rubbed against her bare pussy. It seemed he discovered that she wasn’t wearing anything under her towel. She saw his bright blue eyes go wide in the mirror's reflection before a devious smirk spread across his lips.

Just as she felt his hands tighten over her towel-a millisecond from ripping it off. She shoved him back.

“No!” she held her towel tightly to her chest, “Toru, please. we barely slept all night. I can’t—i can’t go another round.” she begged desperately.

“Aww~” he whined, before slipping his arms around her. Her hands on his chest weakly pushing him back. “Come on.”

“I’m gonna pass out.”

“You won’t.”

“Toru, seriously.” she looked up at him, “How can you even want to get freaky when i have this on my face.”

“You think a little face mask could stop my dick from getting hard?”

His eyes dropped to her lips, “If anything it jus makes me harder.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He pouted, “Next time you want a face mask just ask me ‘kay?”

She shoved him-successfully getting out of his hold this time, “Not happening.”

She began to clear up the bathroom counter, putting her skincare where it belonged. She glanced at him in the mirror’s reflection. she watched him tug at the belt of his pants, adjusting himself.

“C’monnn, mine probably has more natural benefits anyway.”

She looked at him incredulously, “Oh yeah? And what natural benefits would there be?”

He grinned, “my face mask is edible.”

She rolled her eyes, continuing to put stuff away, “Stop talking.”

He leant behind her, speaking in her ear, “Don’t act like you don’t like the taste. You always lick it up like your hungry-“

“Only because you feed it to me.” she spat.

She met his gaze in the reflection. fear immediately blooming in her gut the second she saw the fire in his eyes. 

Before he could move she darted around him, running straight out the bathroom. The second he moved to chase her, the bathroom door slammed shut in his face. He heard it lock from the outside.

“Ara!!” he whined, pushing at the door, “Ara!!”

“Ara.”

“Hm.” she barely looked up from her laptop. She was surprisingly focused for being outdoors. She wasn’t usually the type to study that well outside but something about the calm, breezy air of the estate’s gardens seemed to offer her enough solace to study.

He’d also been studying too but-of course-he finished whatever he had to do before her.

“Why’d you get a new phone?”

She froze, finally glancing up from her macbook to look at him. He was sitting on the fountain’s edge, with a loose black long sleeve and matching pants on.

He took off his sunglasses, letting the sunlight hit his eyes in a way that truly made them seem crystalline. He appeared apathetic but she knew he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t curious. She was just surprised he’d noticed that out of all of her purchases. She hadn’t even shown him the new phone yet. but of course, she wasn't naive enough to believe any of her purchases were unsupervised. whether he was there or not.

He raised a brow at her silence.

“Oh-um-well. I wanted to give it to my dad.”

“Oh!” he then paused before tilting his head, “And how do you plan on giving it to him?”

“I… i haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

She’d just made the purchase yesterday.

“I can have Ijichi drop it off to his mailb-“

“No, no. It’s okay. I want to give it to him when I’m ready. or I’ll just keep it as a business phone.”

He grinned before singing, “i got two phones one for the plug and one for the load, i got two phones one for the bit—“ (a/n: he's singing 2 phones by kevin gates)

She shook her head, face-palming herself, “Please shut up.”

He threw his arms around her, squeezing her oh so tight before dropping his bags and hoisting her legs around his waist. He supported her with one arm around her ass before beaming up at her.

“We won the game! We won—“

She cupped his face, pressing a short kiss to his lips, “I’m proud of you baby.”

She saw a light flush crawl across his cheeks. His brilliant eyes searching her face, “Yeah?”

She felt his arm tighten around her bum. “Should we celebrate?” he asked, “Let’s travel somewhere, out of the countr-“

“No.”

“-try. Any country. You haven’t been out of America yet right? Let’s-“

“No, Toru, stop.”

He pouted, “C’monn. Don’t be lame. You don’t wanna travel with me?”

“I never said that.”

“Then why?”

“You want to celebrate your high school basketball game win by going out of the country?” she smacked his forehead with her palm, “We have school tomorrow idiot.”

“So? We’ll tell em it was an educational leave.”

“Educational leave?”

“Yeah..” his eyes dropped to her shapely tits in her school uniform, “for anatomy or something.”

She shoved his shoulder, “Yeah, I never want to travel with you.”

“What?!”

“Put me down.”

As she twisted in his hold, her tits inadvertently got in his face and he immediately opened his mouth to playfully bite one of them. She shoved his face back.

“Put me down!”

Geto sighed, shaking his head from behind them, “I hate third wheeling.”

Ara twisted in the sheets. Her eyelids squinting together as she tried to sleep but sleep wasn’t coming to her. It just wasn’t.

She threw the blanket off frustratedly. She adjusted her pillow before lying back against the headboard, half-sitting. She reached out to grab her phone from the nightstand only to frown when she realized the time.

1:07 am

She glanced at the empty spot in bed beside her. She was silent for a long moment before glancing back at her phone to see that she didn’t have any new text messages.

He should’ve been back by now.

She opened youtube on her phone. trying to distract herself.

1:43 am

She opened netflix on her phone. an episode of gossip girl might be fun.

2:35 am

She closed out of netflix, unable to ignore her frustration. She opened her phone app. Her thumb hovering over his contact name.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened, making her jolt.

Gojo entered the barely lit room, immediately shuffling out of his jacket and tossing it onto the couch before making his way towards the bed. She watched him shake his head, droplets of water spraying here and there as if he’d just showered.

He silently removed his phone and wallet from his pocket, quietly setting it down on the nightstand before his striking eyes met hers. His face brightened.

“Oh you're up?”

“Where were you.”

He blinked at the seriousness of her tone.

“Where were you?”

A slow grin spread across his lips, “You worried about me?”

She sat up, “I said, where were you?”

“I was at Geto’s, kitten. I told you I’d be there.”

“Why are you wet?”

He sat down on the bed, “I was in his pool for a bit.” 

He crawled towards her, she leaned back into the headboard.

“Then why do you smell like soap?”

“I showered after. I hate smelling like pool water.”

He leaned over to kiss her on the neck but she stopped him by pressing a hand to his shoulder.

She glared, “You smell like perfume.”

He blinked, “What?”

Her glare intensified, shoving him back.

“Wait-kitten,” he let out a small chuckle, “I don’t smell like perfume.”

“Don’t gaslight me.” she snapped.

His eyes widened at her tone but there was mischief in his gaze, “I’m not.”

“Smell your fucking shirt.”

He held up a corner of his shirt and smelt it. A smile broke out across his face, “Its Shoko’s. She hugged me before I left.”

Just as an insult nearly left her lips, she paused. He was right. She recognized that perfume–it was Shoko’s signature scent.

Her face reddened, “So you can hug girls but I can’t hug guys?”

A sly smirk lit his lips before he crawled on the bed towards her. He grabbed her leg, dragging her underneath him.

“Jealously looks so fucking sexy on you,” his eyes raked her up and down, making her feel devoured simply by that action. he pulled at the thin strap of her nightgown, “especially in this—“

She slapped his hand away, “don’t touch me.”

His hand slipped around her throat, “You think i fucked another girl, hm? Think I fucked her nice and hard and showered at her place?”

She felt her heartbeat fasten, her pulse throbbing in his firm grip. He bent lower above her. The tips of his damp hair scraping her forehead.

“You think another girl can take me like you do? Think another girl’s pussy can wrap around me so tight that I think my dick’s gonna get stuck inside? Think another pussy could squirt back to back like it’s begging to be creamed?”

She turned away, but his hand on her throat tightened. His thumb and index finger rested on her jaw and forced her to look up at him.

“No, Ara. No is the answer.”

He released her neck, sliding his hand down the front of her body. When she writhed, his other hand gripped the hair at the crown of her head in a fist. She gasped.

He cupped her pussy through the thin nightgown. She cried out. He gripped her cunt so tight, she didn’t understand how the entirety of his hand managed to cup it all.

“This is the only pussy i want.”

He yanked her nightgown up to her hips, easily slipping his hand into her underwear. His thumb found her clit and she jerked.

“Toru-!” she mewled.

He began to rub her clit in vigorous circles, “This is the only pussy that drives me insane. Only cunt i wanna ram into again n again, I can nut in you every single second of my life and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

She let out a strangled moan, her back arching as his pace slowed around her clit. He gently pressed the hard nub at a painstakingly slow pace, sending electric currents through her body.

She gasped with each press.

“Look at you, Ara, look at you.” his long white eyelashes fluttered as he looked down at her, a light pink flush across his cheeks.

Her eyes were squinted shut. a yummy pinkish red color on her cheeks. her nightgown was practically see through. She must’ve known because she wore a cloth bra-that barely contained her tits-underneath and matching underwear. He remembered picking that nightgown.

She looked so fucking delicious.

“You don’t even know how sweet your pussy tastes. It can make a sane man mad. It made me mad.”

His fingers gradually picked up the pace over her clit—knowing her weakness. knowing her pleasure.

Her legs trembled. She gripped his shoulders, back arching but he gripped her hair to keep her on the bed.

“torutorutoruTORUUUUUU!!!”

She squirt all over him, her juices flying into the air. wetting his shirt, his jeans, the sheets, everything.

Her body trembled, convulsing as she felt her inner thighs get sticky from her mess. Her pussy throbbing from her release. He always knew how to make her feel so fucking good.

Her eyes fluttered open, breathless, as she looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling but the gleam in his eyes was enough. It was enough to make her feel like nothing but a doll just made for him.

She jerked when she felt his fingers slide into her pussy, feeling up her gummy insides. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, she was already so sensitive.

"Toru..” she gasped out.

He took his fingers out, watching her juice separate on his fingers as he spread them. He seemed lost, as if entranced.

“This… this makes me insane.”

He stuck both fingers in his mouth, cleanly licking her juices off them in one go before lowering himself to her pussy.

She tried to close her legs, “toru—wait!”

He buried his face between her legs, sucking her clit with the entirety of mouth—suctioning her clit perfectly with his tongue. sucking the resistance right outta her.

Her back arched against the bed as she cried out.

“nghhh!! toru-huuu-nghh” she was already so sensitive down there, god please, what is he doing?

He flicked at her clit with his tongue a few times before doing what he ultimately wanted. he lowered his face, burying his tongue into her wet cunt. She was a sopping wet mess down there. one that he couldn’t wait to fuck the sense into.

His tongue slid in and out of her, making her body jerk and tremble with her moans. She grabbed his hair, she couldn’t take it. something about his tongue always felt so fucking different—so fucking good.

She was throwing her head side to side, “toru! toru!! please, please!! enough!!”

He was licking her pussy like a madman. drinking her fucking juice straight from her cunt like he’d been thirsting for it all his life. She couldn’t deal with this. it was too much. 

Her legs shook as his tongue fucked into her, as if trying to taste all of her, all the way to inside of her soul.

She glanced down between her legs. at her hand in his soft white hair, at his eyes—glued to her pussy as if lost in a trance until suddenly, his eyes flickered upto her.

He lightly bit her clit.

She erupted. Her head flung back and her hands gripped his hair so tightly, refusing to let him go anywhere else. pleasure burst through her like a bomb had been ripped inside her body. she couldn’t breathe.

It didn’t help that he was licking up everything that poured out of her at lightspeed. as if he couldn’t let a drop go to waste. as if he had to drink it all to survive. she was already so sensitive now, this was too much—

she gathered as much strength as she could-despite feeling so weak-and managed to push his head back.

“stop, toru. stop.” she spoke in between gasps. she was dizzy from pleasure.

he finally sat up, in between her legs. the lower half of his face wet from her juices. he licked his lips before letting his tongue sweep around his mouth. he then wiped the lower half of his face with his hand, gathering her remaining wetness with it before licking it off his palm.

He didn’t break eye contact with her once. She shivered.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt, easily tossing it off before spreading her legs. She shivered once more, her legs looked so small compared to his large hands on her thighs. compared to his broad shoulders that he was lifting her legs on top of.

His hair was a mess from her fingers and that look in his eyes was anything but innocent. it was depraved.

“You still think i wanna cheat on you?” he asked, his voice cold.

She flinched when she felt his cock head touch her pussy lips.

“C-condom, toru,” she rasped out, her voice barely audible, “Condom.”

He hissed, as if annoyed that she remembered. or maybe at the fact that she was sane enough to.

He reached towards the nightstand, hastily grabbing a condom and tearing it open. He didn’t waste any time putting it on before spreading her legs once again.

He placed his cock atop her navel, looking in satisfaction as the tip of his cock went an inch past her belly button. He felt her shiver sensitively.

He glanced down at her flushed face, her trembling lips and that look in her eyes. that fear mixed with want. He knew she wanted it, no matter how much she denied it. She had to have. That face is begging for it.

He could feel her juices on his balls when he rested his cock on top of her like this. He couldn’t wait to see his cockhead bulge inside her tummy either.

He grabbed her throat, before slamming his cock into her in one brutal thrust. The weak sound that left her made his cock throb with the need to cum. Her eyes rolled into her head and he was grinning like a lunatic before losing all focus when her pussy squeezed the life out of him.

He glanced down at the little bulge in her tummy. groaning as he felt her delicious tiny walls restricting his cockhead. her walls curling around him as if it could suppress him from moving.

He touched the bulge at her tummy, he groaned as he felt his cock twitch. She suddenly grabbed his hand, “Toru, please—please-don’t be rough.”

He grabbed her wrist and pinned it to bed, fucking into her as mercilessly as he wanted. Fuck, her pussy felt so good. so hot. so fucking wet.

She screamed as he spoke into her cheek, “You wouldn’t even know if i fucked another girl would you? You don’t even have my location on, you never asked.”

“nghhh—ngh-ngh!! toru!”

His thrusts were hard, fast and deep.

“You don’t even check my phone as much as I check yours. You barely question me.”

His pace picked up. She screamed. She was going to break.

Her nails dug into his arm, “stop! stop! it hurts—you're gonna break me.”

He gritted his teeth, delivering another round of ruthless thrusts before finally slowing down. Her pulse fluttered rapidly in her throat. she could barely think.

“Maybe I should break you.” he whispered against her lips, he thrusted into her once. letting his cock hit her womb. She cried out.

“Maybe that’ll make you care about me.”

He ground the tip of his cock into her, making her wince.

Her neck arched in his hold, “toru…”

“ah,” his cock twitched as he stared down at her, “You sound so sweet.”

His hand tightened around her throat as he fucked another powerful thrust into her. She yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her.

“Maybe I stayed out later on purpose..”

He pulled out slightly, “Maybe I showered so you could get the wrong idea..”

He pulled out a little more,  “Maybe I sprayed Shoko’s perfume to see if you even noticed.”

He slammed back into her, making her moan. She scratched at his arm while her other hand struggled against his grip on her wrist.

She shook her head back and forth as he began to deliver short fucks with most of his cock inside her. She felt his tip hit her deepest part inside, making her whimper and shake all over.

Her eyes fluttered opened, staring up at his focused expression, “Toru, please, please-“ her voice broke. she felt so full.

“Please what.” he snapped, his pace picking up, “You never get jealous, Ara, ever. Do you know how insane that makes me?”

His hips smacked into her with each thrust, “I get jealous when you talk to another man—when you stand near another man. Even when you look at another man—haah, I must be crazy.”

He was fucking into her ferociously now. Her body shaking from the pressure of his fucks, her body getting buried deeper and deeper into the bed.

She writhed under him, her free hand pulling at his hair, “Toru—please! slow-slow down—nghhhh!”

He let go of her throat to grab her tits. squeezing it hard in his one hand. letting his fingers sink into the entirety of her perky yet soft breast.

He nipped at her throat, “Maybe you know I won’t cheat cuz of how obsessed I am.”

He suddenly squeezed her tit hard making her wince and look down at him. His blue eyes were hazy with lust.

“But i can’t be the only one obsessed.”

She screamed as he fucked her-impossibly-harder. her insides sqlueching with her juices as her cunt tried to keep up with him but in the end she gave out. the last thing she felt was his warm cum spurt inside of her. loads and loads of it, as his cock twitched within her depths.

She sighed at the feeling of her hair being stroked before her eyes opened in a panic.

She was met with Satoru’s big ocean blue eyes staring back at her. He was lying right beside her, facing her while she lay chest-down on the bed.

“How do you feel?”

She moved to shift her legs but winced.

“Achey.”

He smiled slightly, repeating her words, “Achey?”

She nodded.

“You want water?”

She nodded.

He sat up easily, reaching over to grab the glass from the nightstand and offering it to her.

She tried to sit up, only to immediately crumple back at the action. Her face pinched up in pain.

His eyes widened before setting the glass down, “S’okay baby, I got you.”

He propped his pillow up on the headboard and slowly pulled her up against him so that they were half sitting, half lying down.

He then handed her the glass. He watched her attempt to hold it but her hands shook—shook so badly she could barely hold the glass.

He slipped the glass out of her fingers. She sighed weakly, leaning into his shoulder.

“I’m-i’m thirsty.” she whispered.

“I know kitten.” he replied gently before taking a rather large sip of water himself.

He then held her chin and brought her lips to him and let her drink. She drank from him. It was absurd but his hand on her chin made her less shaky. Their lips on each others made her more stable.

He gave her a peck when she finished.

“More?” he asked.

She nodded.

They did it once more, his mouth holding the water for her to drink. Maybe she was in too much of a daze from their sex to even question it but god, water never tasted better.

But it didn’t end there.

Once the water was gone from his mouth it should’ve ended there but he couldn’t seem to let go of her lips. and neither could she. his hand on her chin keeping her lips to his as his tongue sweeped her mouth. a low groan leaving him.

She broke the kiss, breathless. Her hand coming to rest on his chest as she pushed him away slightly.

“Toru.”

His arm slipped around her back, squeezing her hip as if to keep her close. He kissed her along her jaw.

“Just to keep the record straight, I didn’t stay out late on purpose.” he kissed her shoulder, “I did swim and shower and hug Shoko goodbye. I shoulda texted that I was gonna be out later but I didn't expect to, honest.”

She shifted beside him, silently letting him kiss her until he grabbed her chin and made her face him.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she sighed.

He scanned her before smiling faintly, “I love seeing you worry about me though.”

He reached over to squeeze one of her tits, making her shiver, “It makes me so hard.”

When she felt her nipple harden under his palm she glanced down at herself. Only to freeze when she saw she was naked under the sheets.

She looked over at him in a panic, “Why am I naked?”

He spoke from the crook of her neck, his hand still fondling her tit, “cuz we’re not done yet.”

He began to nip at her neck, she knew they’d be marks but that was the least of her worries. Her gaze dropped down to the tent in the blanket, right where his groin would be.

He suddenly pinched her nipple, making a low weak moan leave her lips.

Ara wandered into one of the living rooms. This one had the best lighting in her opinion, perfect for reading. just as she walked towards the couch she froze.

“Oh!” it was maid Marin, standing on the other side of the room with a vacuum beside her.

“I’m sorry to startle you, Miss.” Marin bowed her head slightly.

Ara waved her hand, “Oh no, you're good!”

“I’ll head on to another room-“

“No please, don’t worry about it.” Just as she turned around to bolt somewhere else, Marin quickly spoke.

“Please, miss, continue as you were. I just finished.”

Ara slowly turned around, belatedly noticing that the floor looked spotless. she’d thought marin was just about to get started.

“oh, um, thank you.”

Ara walked towards the couch, hesitantly getting comfortable on it before flipping through her book trying to find where she’d left off. She’d lost her bookmark for it.

Surprisingly a light laugh left marin, “You don’t have to try make my life easier you know, that’s my job.”

Ara immediately glanced up, confused.

Marin was looking at her rather fondly, “You leave your room the cleanest I’ve ever seen it. Do you put away his clothes as well?”

Ara blinked, belatedly realizing that… she did. but it wasn’t on purpose. It was because Gojo was an actual mess. He was terribly comfortable with tossing his clothes anywhere and misplacing random things after using it—which was the worst because she liked to keep things in a rather meticulous order at times. things had to be in a certain place.

Which was why his hastily tossed aside clothes in random corners of the room would not do. neither would his half-open drawers. or misplaced colognes or-god, i could really go on.

But she supposed the main reason for her minute attention to the room was because it felt ungrateful-it felt ungrateful to leave such a lavish space messy.

“Miss Natsuna?”

She snapped out of her thoughts, “Yes-um-please call me Ara.”

The maid shook her head gently, “That won’t do.”

Ara eyed her as unobtrusively as she could. This was nicest she’d ever seen Marin act with her. The older woman was usually reserved. She usually saw her in passing, as she did with the other maids or workers of the estate. But Marin was the one she interacted with the most and even that was seldom.

“I’d like you to know that I’m grateful. I’m grateful that you're here.”

Ara’s eyes widened.

“Sir gojo was barely home before you moved here but now he is here all the time. He seems so much brighter as well, more lively. He was always energetic since he was a boy but this is different. He’s so happy with you.”

She could tell the woman meant her words. Whether it be because of the care in her voice or the genuineness of her words-all she knew was that this maid really did care about Gojo.

“It’s all his Mother ever wanted for him, for him to be happy.”

Marin offered her a small smile-the first Ara had ever seen.

“I’m happy he met you.” she paused, “Please take good care of him.”

Ara stabbed her sausage with a fork.

“So… Gojo’s birthday is coming up.”

Ara’s eyes flickered upto Millie across from her. “Is it?”

“Yeah!” Millie responded indignantly, “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I know.” she responded, annoyance clear in her tone.

Idiot Haibara wouldn’t shut up about it. He was unnecessarily hype that it would be her first time attending Gojo’s bday bash. Apparently something ‘wild’ happens every year. When she asked him to give an example, she was told to ‘wait and see’ with the most goofiest smile on his face.

As if she couldn’t just ask Gojo herself.

Unfortunately she knew Haibara was right. In the previous years she remembered her fellow peers raving about his birthday parties in the following school days. Whether it be live singer or a yacht party, his bday party was the social event for these airheads.

She supposed she was one of the airheads now herself, since she was dating the biggest one.

“Well what are you gonna give him for his birthday?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know. What do you get someone who has everything?” Ara took a frustrated bite out of her sausage.

Millie placed her chin on her hand, “Hmm that’s true.” she squinted as if mulling over a few things but then dismissing them, “Damn, he really does have everything.”

“Thanks for the help.” Ara responded sarcastically before taking another bite from her sausage.

Millie eyed the sausage jealously. She’d devoured hers in two seconds. She loved how the school chef made them—suddenly her eyes widened.

“Wait.”

“What?” Ara asked.

Millie smirked, her eyes glinting with excitement, “He technically doesn’t have everything..”

Ara stepped out of the car feeling like a doll. Even though it was Gojo’s big day he’d rented out an entire spa and massage sesh for her and Millie cuz he could tell she was getting anxious.

Maybe because everyone was hyping Gojo’s birthday party up or maybe because it was the fact so many people were going to be there, her introvert self couldn't take it.

but after everything. hair. nails. makeup. outfit. all put together—& maybe some hits from Millie’s j. She felt more calm-ish.

It was saturday, the night of Gojo’s party even though his actual birthday was tomorrow. It was taking place at the estate. He’d considered throwing it at one of his family’s beach houses but Shoko declined the idea due to the fact that Geto apparently did that last year so they had to keep it different.

Apparently Gojo didn’t host events often at the estate-mainly for security/privacy reasons. His uncle also hated it but-according to him-his Uncle's opinion didn’t really matter.

The last time he’d thrown a birthday bash here was freshman year so he counted it as a full circle moment since they were seniors now. so they had to go all out.

Ijichi closed the car door behind her and handed her her mini bag. “Mis-“ he quickly shook his head, “Ara.”

She raised a brow, “Yes?”

“Y-you look beautiful.”

She smiled shyly, “Thank you, Ijichi.”

Suddenly Millie tapped her shoulder, “C’mon c’mon lets go.”

Music could already be heard from the estate even though it was rather early. She supposed it was never too early to start. The sun was bound to set soon.

Ara glanced back at Millie, who was smiling wide as she took in the view of the estate. The place that had homed Ara for the past few months.

“The fact that you live here… insane.”

Ara shook her head, “I’m nervous.”

Millie rubbed her back, “Don’t worry. don’t worry. No one’s here yet. We have time to chill. besides you know how to party so don’t be a party pooper now.” she teased.

Ara rolled her eyes, “Thanks.”

His friends were in the living room—chilling and smoking. It seemed everyone had gotten the memo to dress nice aka hot.

Shoko passed her cigarette to Toji the second she saw Ara. She ran upto her.

“Hey hey!”

Ara hugged her back.

“When did you get here?” Millie asked.

“Oh, we got here like twenty minutes ago. Where were you guys?”

“Still getting ready.” Ara answered.

“Well, it was worth it because ya’ll look-“ she bit her lower lip, making the dumbest face she’d ever seen.

Millie laughed while Ara shook her head, “Please stop.”

Shoko grinned, “Did you guys have anything to drink yet?”

Millie snapped her fingers, “Nope. Imma need that.”

Shoko gestured towards the table in the center of the living room, “Knock yourself out.”

Millie zipped straight where she pointed. Shoko then turned to her, “What about you?”

Ara was silent for a moment, examining the room. Toji sat on the couch, his feet crossed over another and propped on the coffee table before him. Haibara was on his right, blabbing about something passionately that Toji clearly could give two shits about.

Then there was Nanami sitting on the sofa across from them. He’d gotten a hair cut and-if Ara’s vision wasn’t impaired-he seemed to have filled out a bit. It suited him.

 “Where’s Gojo?”

“Oh him and Geto are upstairs, doing god knows what.” Shoko shook her head.

“Do you know how many people are coming?” she asked.

Shoko blinked, “Um.. no. Let’s just say this entire place is gonna be packed though.” she examined Ara with a raised brow, “What’s with you?”

“Nothing nothing. I’m just.. nervous.”

“What?! Why?”

Ara ran a hand though her perfectly done mermaid waves, “I don’t know.” she sighed.

“There’s got to be something.”

Ara straightened her posture, “I don’t know why.. I just feel this pressure in my-“ she gestured towards her stomach, “I can’t explain it.”

“Your anxious?”

“Yeah.” she sighed.

“You know, I think I know a cure.”

“Let me guess, a drink?”

“Damn,” Shoko grinned, “I'm predictable as hell aren’t I.”

Ara chuckled.

“Okay but listen, this drink is actually called ‘the cure’ and I invented it. All the girls love it, it’s fruity and yummy and it’ll prolly calm your nerves. Let me make it for you.”

“Don’t make it too strong please.”

“Of course, I got you.”

“Uno!” Ara spoke a millisecond earlier than Toji.

His sexy green eyes narrowed but she didn’t miss the subtle curl of humor on his lips, “Ah-fuck you.”

He drew four cards from the pile.

She felt a slight nudge to her left and glanced down to see Nanami outstretching his fist towards her in silent commemoration. She smiled, fist bumping him back.

Nanami had already won the round so now her and Toji were fighting for 2nd place.

“Alright, your turn.” Toji grumbled.

She glanced down at the yellow card with the number 9 at the top of the pile. She bit her cheek to hide her smile before kissing her card and setting it down atop the pile.

A green nine was her last card.

Toji sucked his teeth before tossing his pile of cards on the table.

“This a damn scam.”

“You owe her 10k.” Nanami added monotonously.

He leaned forward in his seat adamantly, “The hell’s she gonna do with 10k? Gojo literally gets her Birkins every other week.”

“Are you jealous of her gifts?” Nanami retorted, “Should she ask Gojo to get you one next?”

“eh?” Toji’s ears turned red, “Hell no.”

Ara held back her laugh while arranging the cards on the table in a neat pile, “A deals a deal-“

Suddenly a hand clasped her shoulder and she looked up to see Millie with a bright smile on her face. She handed her a glass.

Ara hesitantly took it, looking at the pinky orange liquid within it, “What’s this?”

Millie patted her shoulder, “A gift from Dr. Shoko aka the cure.”

oh right. She’d forgotten about that.

Millie glanced over at Nanami, “By the way, she’s looking for you.”

“Where is she?” he asked.

“In the kitchen.”

“Which one?”

Millie’s eyes nearly popped out of her body, “There’s multiple?”

“Yes.” Ara, Nanami and Toji all replied at the same time.

Millie sucked her teeth, “Jesus. Well, it’s the one with the blue marble countertops.”

“East wing.” Nanami muttered under his breath before getting up and leaving.

Millie quickly took his seat and held out her glass of the same drink.

“Cheers?” she asked Ara.

Ara could already tell by the glassy look in Millie’s eyes that the girl had clearly got a head start with the drinks.

Ara sucked in deep breath, “We don’t need a chaser?”

Toji snorted, “For Shoko’s cure? Hell no. Shits sweet as hell.”

Millie rolled her eyes, “We get it, tough guy.”

He grinned at her.

Millie ignored him, facing Ara, “Nope you barely taste the alc in this, for real.” she held her glass up, “C’mon, c’mon.”

Ara held out her glass, a satisfying ‘clink!’ resounding from their glasses once they touched. They then linked arms and tilted their heads back, downing the drink in one go.

They set the glasses down in a fit of giggles.

Ara lightly dabbed at the corner of her lip with her fingertips, making sure none of it spilled or messed up her lipstick.

“That just tastes like juice.” Ara noted.

“Told ya.” Toji replied.

If Ara had been nervous before, she barely remembered what that felt like now. What had she even been worried about? people? ha. She barely noticed when the house began to gradually fill up.

The music was all she could focus on. It felt like it was connected to her veins. pumping through her body with each soundwave that blasted from the speakers.

She was dancing, moving her hips in ways she didn’t even know was possible. Millie wouldn’t stop laughing and it seems her laugh was too contagious cuz Ara couldn’t stop laughing either.

But suddenly, the song changed and she saw Millie’s face turn serious. She grabbed Ara’s hand, leading her somewhere.

Millie climbed atop the pool table and pulled her up. She started yelling the lyrics, Ara handed her a pool stick as if it was a mic.

The surrounding people turned around, staring up at them and the next thing she knew people started to sing along, some people even started jumping. A few girls climbed on top of the pool table to join them as well.

Millie tossed the pool stick somewhere and started to dance with her. Ara only knew the chorus of the song so the second it started to play they both started pointing at each other and singing. (a/n: song is okay - by JT)

“I’m pretty than a motherfucker, hoes be lookin’ okay.”

“She think that she fuckin’ with me, is this bitch okay?”

“He said he ain’t fuckin’ round, i look at him like, okay?”

“I used to be down bad but now a bitch okay.”

Millie nearly tripped and Ara grabbed her shoulders, catching her just in time. They both gasped, staring at each other with wide eyes.

They both burst out laughing. In the midst of their laughter, they didn’t notice people cheering and making way for a certain individual.

No one other than the birthday boy himself, Gojo.

He stood a little distance away from the pool table, dapping a few people up as he passed before crossing his arms when he spotted her. A wide grin on his lips.

His vibrant eyes looked her up and down, before chewing at his lower lip and sighing.

She was wearing his favorite color on her. red—blood red. It looked so fucking good. Her dress hugged her waist so tight, those thin straps were barely holding in her yummy tits. He swore her skin glittered under the lights-and her hair, it looked so silky and wavy, swaying with each roll of her hips. She had to be a siren.

The thought of running his hands through those locks and wrapping it around his fist before spreading her glowy little legs. He wondered if her back was just as sparkly—haah. I need to calm down.

To say he was pent up wouldn’t cover it. He’d felt so utterly betrayed when she suggested that they hold off on sex before his birthday, just so he could cherish it more.

She’d suggested that he hold off for a week. Impossible. They broke that a day in. She should know he always cherished whenever they fucked. He never ran out of stamina with her and she knew it. He felt like this break was more for her than anything.

In the end he ended up only managing to hold out for two days, today being day two. He didn’t like it—not having her. Discipline wasn’t in his nature when it came to her. but-god-with the way she looked right now… mmm she better not expect to sleep tonight.

He felt an elbow jab his ribs and remembered himself. He glanced over at Geto.

“Get your shit together.”

Gojo grinned, uncrossing his arms to run a hand over his mouth, “I’m trying.”

Geto tilted his head, “Are you?”

“Gimme a sec.”

He deftly made his way towards her, standing in front of the pool table, right where she was. How distracted are you kitten? She barely looked away from Millie as they danced, enjoying the song to its fullest.

She looked so good, singing the words-word for word-fuck he was too impatient to wait. He wanted her eyes on him. She hadn’t even greeted him when she came back to the estate after getting dolled up all day.

His hand slid up her calf, immediately drawing her attention. She glanced down, her eyes instantly brightening.

The spark that ran up his spine was incomparable.

He stared up at her with a boyish grin, his hand sliding up along the back of her thigh and she leaned into him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He easily held her waist and placed her down in front of him.

He hummed, pressing her body to his by sliding his hands down her waist to her ass, squeezing her cheeks hard.

A small, sexy little yelp left her lips and he exhaled silently. She stared up at him, her hands on his chest, “Toru..” he heard the reproach in her tone until her gaze dropped to his lips.

She shook her head but he quickly cupped one side of her face. “Your lipstick..”

She smiled softly. Right. She’d gotten mad at him about that before. She tilted her head up, fully pressing her chest against his, “It’s waterproof.”

His lips crashed to hers, nearly swallowing her lips whole. The music silencing their sloppy, desperate sounds. Her hands grasped at his forearms and his hands squeezed her pretty waist. He could taste the alc on her tongue, it tasted fruity, sweet—

Her nails dug into his skin, pushing herself back.

“Toru..” she whined, resting her head on his chest.

He ran a hand down her hair before pressing his lips to the crown of her head. God, she’s so damn cute.

“Everytime I look at you I feel so lucky.” he muttered into her hair.

His hands found her hips, squeezing lightly as he looked down at her, “Do you know how good you look right now?”

She looked up at him, “I do.” she pressed her stomach to his groin to prove her point. His eyes widened. The action made his cock throb—painfully so. He’d been hard as a rock the second his eyes landed on her.

He grinned, “You wanna do something about it?”

She tilted her head, giving him a look.

“Fine, fine~” he pressed his forehead to hers, running a hand down her hair only to grasp her nape to drag her close. His lips at her ear, “You can’t drink too much.”

He felt her hands on his chest waver, “I won’t.”

“You promise?”

She slipped her hands around his neck, pulling back to nudge her nose against his, “I promise.”

He introduced her to a ton of people. She couldn’t possibly remember them all-but to her shock, Gojo was friends with so many nepobabies, celebrities and LA influencers, it was incredulous. She couldn’t believe they’ve never talked about it before.

She never thought in her life she would ever meet these people. and the fact that some of their classmates were talking to these celebrities as if they were friends… as if they’ve met them before. She couldn’t believe it.

Like genuinely in what world did Gojo know David Beckham’s son, Romeo? or Monica Bellucci’s daughter?

She’d done her best to remain as calm as possible whenever Gojo introduced her to these people. He loved saying it—“this my girlfriend, Ara.”

She was almost sick of hearing it so many times but she knew he ate it up. The little smile he gave her whenever he said it, he loved claiming her like this.

His arm was on her back, his hand resting low on her hip as he spoke to an actual prince-Prince Nikolai of Denmark to be exact. Then randomly, Vinnie Hacker joined their conversation. She felt like she was watching the mogging olympics. She couldn’t even focus on the conversation, merely laying her head on Gojo as she stared up at them talking.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm, prying her away from Gojo. She glanced over to see Shoko, “Come here.”

Gojo’s hand loosened on her hip, letting Shoko take her as he continued to converse. Ara slipped away, letting Shoko lead her to the corner of the room.

“How are you feeling?”

Ara slow blinked, “Um… I feel good.” The realization made a small smile spread across her lips.

“Really?” Shoko inquired, before running a hand through her hair, “Thank god.”

She tilted her head, “Why?”

“Because Millie came up to me and I don’t know if she was joking or not but she said she put ecstasy in your drink.”

Ara froze.

Shoko went on, “She said she only put a little-to ease your nerves or something but, still. I was hoping you knew… did she tell you?”

Ara answered with a simple, “Nope.”

“Oh god. Are you sure you're okay?”

She gave her a thumbs up.

Shoko raked a hand through her short hair again, “Are you sure?”

She grabbed Shoko’s arms, “I promise i’m okay, stop worryingg.”

Shoko stared at her smile for a second before nodding, “Alright, alright.”

Shoko reached out to fix one of Ara’s necklaces, “Isn’t your friend.. a little sus? Why would she not tell you that.”

Ara shrugged, high out of her mind, “Dunno, maybe she told me and I forgot.”

That was a lie. Ara would remember something like that.

Shoko shook her head, smiling slightly, “You’re a mess.”

Suddenly Mina showed up in all her blonde haired glory. Ara swore those big loose waves belonged in a Victoria Secret show. Mina grabbed ahold of both of their wrists.

She wriggled her brows, “Lets dance.”

Ara was on the rooftop, dancing with girls she didn’t even know. Shoko knew them though.

It threw her off when some of the girls recognized her as Gojo’s girlfriend. She wondered if it had to do with Gojo’s socials. She didn’t really use social media much herself but she’d advised him against posting her too much. She wondered if he’d listened.

The breeze on the rooftop was perfect along with the sunset. The multicolored sky looked like something straight out of a landscape painting.

She walked away from the dancing girls, telling them she was going to get a drink but in reality she needed a break. She wandered to the farthest lounging chair and laid down.

She lay on her side, one leg over the other as she stared at the sky, letting the music and breeze waft over her.

She felt surreal. She didn’t want to ever stop feeling like this.

Suddenly she heard a familiar voice nearby, “Ara?”

She glanced over to see Geto hovering nearby. He bent down slightly, “Are you okay?”

She smiled a bit, “I’m great.”

“Yeah?” he sat on the seat beside her, sighing.

“Mhm, what about you?”

He scratched his brow with his thumb, “Fine, a bit… tired. Maybe I’m not drunk enough.”

She laughed lightly, “Maybe.”

“You drink enough?”

She nodded.

He set his drink down to light a cigarette. He offered her one but she shook her head. She watched him take a puff. The smokey air billowing upwards was the most interesting thing to watch.

She laid down more comfortably, adjusting her arm underneath her head. She stared at him. His black hair looked nice down. It ended a little past his shoulders. She was so used to seeing it up in a man bun that she didn’t realize how long his hair actually was.

She followed his gaze. He was looking at a girl, near their age. She swore she might’ve seen that girl on pinterest or something. Regardless, the girl was gorgeous.

“You should talk to her.” Ara suggested lightly.

His eyebrows raised slightly, “Oh no-no, she’s my friend. I’ve known her since i was little.”

She watched him lean back in his seat, raising his glass to his lips to take a sip. He gazed over the crowd uninterestedly.

“Why don’t you talk to any girls?”

He nearly spit his drink, “What?”

“I just..” her brows furrowed slightly, “I just realized I’ve never seen you talk to a girl at a party. like talk talk.”

He held her gaze for a moment, expression shocked before he hunched over in his seat, looking away.

“I’m not really good at talking to girls.”

She could see the tips of his ears reddening as he admitted this.

“No way.” she gasped out.

His eyes immediately flickered to her, “What?”

“So Gojo wasn’t lying? You’re a virgin?”

She watched color swiftly bloom along his cheeks, “He told you that?”

"I honestly don’t think that’s bad. I don’t see the big deal about losing your v card by a certain age or whatever. It’s just unnecessary pressure. I was a virgin-“ she cut herself off, suddenly thinking over her words.

“Um-“ she felt her face go warm, “-until-uh-“

He couldn’t seem to make eye contact, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She sat up, crossing one leg over the other. She adjusted the end of her mini dress.

“Anyway,” she muttered, “I don’t see the big deal. I just hope you lose it with someone you love.”

Her eyes widened as she processed her words. She felt Geto’s eyes boring into her.

“So you love him?”

She glanced over at him, unable to read his blank expression.

He offered her a small smile, “He’s been waiting to hear you say it, y’know.”

“He hasn’t said it.”

"He said he did.”

She blinked, belatedly remembering that he has. In fact, he’s said it multiple times-but he never pressured her to say it back.

Faint confusion etched her features, “He wants to hear me say it?”

“Who wouldn’t.”

Fireworks sparked across the sky. the air was foggy with smoke. the scent of alcohol, sweat and expensive colognes and perfumes everywhere.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOJO SATORU!!!!” Haibara yelled atop his lungs into the mic after his spiel-that she could barely concentrate on-and countdown.

Gojo was laughing beside her, she playfully shoved him away. He shot her the handsomest smile as he stumbled backwards. He then faced the balcony, sharing his smile to the people below.

He easily climbed atop the balcony railing, standing on the ledge with just his two feet.

She felt like she was watching him in slow motion when he slipped off his shirt. His built upper body visible to everyone. His protruding biceps, compact abs. The pool water somehow reflecting across his body, creating lines of light blue waves along his skin.

He shook his head, moving his floppy white hair out of his eyes before he blew a kiss to his fans by the pool below. He tugged at the belt of his jeans, grinning down as the party goers hooted and hollered. chanting his name.

She stared at him, looking at the shit eating grin on his face. She hated how attractive the expression was.

He tossed his Jean Paul Gaultier sunglasses off before jumping off the railing.

She watched in astonishment as he managed to curl into a ball and roll in the air a couple times before landing smack center in the pool. She swore she felt water droplets from where she stood on the rooftop.

She was gaping until his head emerged from the pool. He shook his hair out like a dog, laughing in his boisterous airy way. Several people jumped into the pool, his friends swarmed him.

She shook her head, glancing away when she felt something poke her arm. it was Arden, one of Shoko’s friends. When Ara glanced down she realized what had been poking her was the straw of a multi-colored fruity looking drink.

“It’s yours.” Arden offered.

“I think I’m good—“

“Drink.”

Ara snatched it out of her hand and chugged it down.

She laughed, shoving Millie back, “What the hell is with you?!”

Millie countered, “You feel better though, don’t you? don’t you?”

She paused before answering, “.. I do.”

They both made eye contact before breaking down in a fit of giggles.

She burst into one of the guest rooms to find a group of boys and girls hovered over in a loose circle. Her gaze then dropped to the tray between them and the lines of white powder on it.

“Ooops, my bad.”

She quickly slammed the door shut. Her hand still on the handle as she kept her back to the door, standing in complete shock.

“What is it?”

Toji stood in front of her.

He gestured with a tilt of his chin towards the door behind her, “What’s in there?”

“You like coke?”

“Maybe.”

She let go of the door handle, “It’s all yours.”

Just as she walked around him, he grasped her wrist.

She raised a brow as she looked up at him.

“You took a line?” an undercurrent of shock and curiosity in his voice.

“Pft no.”

His eyes narrowed, a subtle grin on his lips, “Liar.”

She tried to tug her wrist away, “I didn’t.”

He let her wrist go, “You definitely took somethin’ ” he leaned in, “Your pupils are big.”

She touched her cheek, “They are?” she tried to recall reading about physical symptoms for MDMA use but couldn’t remember anything.

“Mhm.” he leaned back, “What’d you take?”

“Ecstasy… Millie said she crushed up a bit and put it in my drink. She said it would help me relax and it did.. but..”

“But?”

She met his gaze, “She told me she only put a little.”

The corner of his lip curled ever so slightly, “I hope she did, for your sake.”

“Am I going to black out?”

He looked her up and down, “You don’t look like it. How do you feel?”

“I feel fine.. I feel like everything feels better.”

He smirked, “I bet.”

“Do you think i’m gonna be able to stay up all night?”

Confusion flickered across his features, “Why…” a millisecond later realization made his thin brows instantly shoot up, a sly grin on his lips.

“Never mind.” she quickly spat out.

“You’re a good girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”

Ara stood in the kitchen, scarfing down a slice of cake. It was delicious. The frosting was the best texture on the entire planet. holy grail.

The cake was a cute faded pastel blue color, the inside was made of three layers-moist chocolate cake, fluffy chocolate mousse and chocolate ganache. She wasn’t even that much of chocolate person but this tasted heavenly.

“dish is amazhing.” Some girl beside her spoke through her chewing. Ara had never met this girl before.

“It- yes.” she agreed.

The floor pulsed with the bass of each word, each beat drop. Her heart pulsed along with it.

She was jumping so much her legs were sore. She danced with her hands on Millie’s shoulders. Millie? yes, Millie.

Millie was dancing too. Her curls had loosened and appeared more mermaid-like than tightly curled. She looked like a doll.

Millie grabbed her hands and spun around with her. There were so many cheers, so many voices. Everyone was so loud.

People danced in front of them, behind them. They somehow got tugged into a circle, hooting and hollering as girls and boys alike took the center space to dance. Some people were recording. Ara swore she’d seen some of the faces around her on tik tok or youtube.

Ara’s mouth dropped open when she watched a few girls slide into the center of the circle, showing off their moves in their skimpy outfits. Goddamn, they know how to dance.

She’d never seen so many people having so much fun at once. It almost felt like one of those antidepressant ads in real life–except it was real life.

Millie touched her cheek, “dance! dance! dance!” her voice echoed in her ears.

Was music always this beautiful?

She felt hands on her waist and opened her eyes. It was dark, the sporadic neon flashes the only source of light but she could recognize the man in front of her anywhere.

His skin was poreless, smooth. Her hands touched his familiar abs.

His hand was in her hair, his other hand on her ass—keeping her groin against his. He was hard.

The neon lights flashed over his eyes and she swore they glittered—brighter than uncut diamonds.

His lips were on her neck, his lips were on her lips. his hand tugged her nape closer. His cock throbbed through his jeans, against the thin material of her dress.

She couldn’t stop his lips from moving over her own. She felt like she was gonna disappear in him and-oh she wanted to. yes she wanted to.

Her body needed something and he knew exactly what. She felt it in his hold, in the pressure of his lips against hers. She couldn’t think.

He pulled her legs up around his waist and she knew the party was behind them.

a/n: fic continued in chapter 5 [ part 4 ] !!!!!

[lunajay33]

Destiny Part.4🐺

Summary: Paul has just shifted to his new life as a wolf and feels empty without his imprint hoping he finds her soon, y/n just moved to forks to live with her dad and sister Bella and decides to go to the bone fire to make new friends

Part.3

•Masterlist•

“I’m Paul’s imprint, he told me everything” I glared

She was so hypocritical, she can be in love with a vampire and be obsessed with their family after a year but I bc ant spend time with people who have been in my life forever and they just happen to be shifters? That’s not far, she’s never fair

“W..what?” She was shocked, her eyes showing full white and her jaw slacked open

“I’m Paul’s imprint, I’m meant to be with him, I always have been and we both knew it deep down, why is this such a problem atleast he protects people, look what those blood suckers did to you” i tried to reason

“You don’t know a thing about them y/n, don’t ever speak about them like that ever, you’d be lucky to even be in the same room as them, especially you” she scowled

“What is that suppose to mean Bella?” I felt my heart throb

“You’ve never been good enough, you’re just a burden to this family, can’t you see that”

I couldn’t take it anymore I ran out the door still sore but I didn’t know where to go, my bike was back at Emily’s, then I remembered I had Jakes number

I ran out of the house trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill, after three rings Billy answered

“Hello?”

“Hi billy……” I felt the lump in my throat get worse

“Y/n? What are you doing calling at this time of night? Are you okay?” He asked concerned like he always was with me

“Is Jake around? Would he be able to come pick me up?” I whined as my voice wavered

“Oh dear of course I’ll send him by right away just hold one okay?”

“Okay, thank you billy”

~~~~~~~~~

I waited for 20 minutes when I saw his rabbit car pull up I quickly got in

“Y/n what’s wrong why did you call?” He asked concerned

I looked out the window and sunk in my seat

“Can we talk about it later I just need to be away from Bella right now…..please”

“Of course” he said softly as he started to drive back to his house

When we pulled up to the red house that felt more like home I felt a bit better, a sense of belonging

Me and Jake got out and he opened the door to the house for me, I threw myself down on the couch and sighed

Today was suppose to be a magical day, I found my soul mate, and he wanted me he actually just wanted me and I wasn’t his second choice

As I was sitting there I saw billy roll in and stop infront of me as Jake sat down next to me

“Dear what happened?” Billy asked

And the tears finally fell, I couldn’t hold it back anymore, especially around him

“She said I wasn’t good enough….that I’m just a burden to the family, I don’t know what I ever did wrong for her to hate me” I cried into my hands trying to avoid looking at them

I felt the warmth of Jakes hand rub my back as billy pat my knee

“Y/n look at me” billy pleaded and I hesitantly looked up

“You are never a burden to us, we love you, you’re like another daughter to me, and I know Jake sees you like his little sis, you’re always the sweetest most kindest soul, and don’t you ever let her make you think you’re not worth love” he said as he wiped my tears away

“Do you want me to call Paul?” Jake asked

“No I don’t want him seeing me like this” I hiccuped that’s when we heard a knock on the door

Jake got up to answer it and that’s when I heard that beautiful voice I love always got butterflies around

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Come in she’s on the couch” Jake said stepping aside and he jogged over kneeling infront of me

“We will give you some privacy” billy smiled as Jake wheeled him to a different room

“How did you know I was here?” I asked confused but I couldn’t help feel better with him around

“I could sense you weren’t okay and I just followed your scent, it’s an imprint thing, but what happened?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Part.5<-

How is everyone liking the story plz lmk🤍

@mistyyyy