#they both look so happy in that clip | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokissweater · 2 months ago

Text

beetlejuice!

{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}

— “ may you never forget me ” ♪ ༘⋆

summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling empty— like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet him— beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition… marrying him.

warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 19.8k

authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALL….. SHES FREAKY… SHES ANGSTY… AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or i’m gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no i’m jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333

you’ve always had a knack for the paranormal.

and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the town— swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.

it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitland’s having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.

it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front door— all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldn’t bother much with it anymore.

and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life you’ve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.

and why? you didn’t know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldn’t find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitland’s were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop out— deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.

except your boyfriend wouldn’t understand that either.

“babe c’mon!” he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. “i thought you liked creepy ghost shit?”

you scoffed. “yes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hell’s the matter with you?!”

rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.

“y/n we literally cannot go if you don’t go.” he pushed. “we need your ghost brain to tell us if they’re around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.”

you snorted, already aggravated by rin’s lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.

“you’re committing a crime—”

“the house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!” he threw his arms up. “babe c’mon i’m serious it’s getting late and we’re losing time.”

why wasn’t he listening?

“what are you looking for anyways?” you mumbled.

“money.” he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “that’s literally it i won’t take anything else.”

“do you swear?” you peered up at him. “don’t take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.”

“yeah we won’t! right guys?”

rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.

you never liked his friends.

“and leave me out of it okay?” you spoke. “we could get kicked out of college for this i don’t know how you’re not worried…”

he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.

“they’re not gonna care y/n.” he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. “nobody will. it’s abandoned.”

the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things they’d hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hill— the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.

rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porch— rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.

and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.

“are you sensing ghosts?” rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.

“yeah.”

his eyes snapped over to you. “…really? yeah right.”

“no i’m serious.” you whispered back. “what did you bring me for if you’re not even gonna believe when i tell you—”

“okay! okay i’m sorry.” he apologized, though it didn’t seem genuine as he patted your back. “i believe you trust me.”

“wait— she said there’s ghosts?” one of his friends piped up. “how do you know?”

you went to answer but rin beat you to it.

“she’s a psychic… i guess.” he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. “she can sense them.”

“oh my god…” another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. “rin— i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.”

your eyes narrowed. “you said that?”

“no!— i mean, technically yes but—” he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. “you guys really think any of that is real? it’s just the neighbors man they’re bored—”

“people here don’t just make up rumors like that rin.” you cut him off. “the majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making up—”

“because they’re old and bored—”

the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.

you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didn’t follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.

rin was everything you wanted at first.

and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilities— always feeling like something was missing and… vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parents’ passing.

but it still didn’t help when you’d accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didn’t believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.

but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ to get you to move on.

you didn’t feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.

“where do we even look?” one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.

“wherever you think a money bank would be.” rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. “i think it’d be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bit—”

“what?” you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. “rin no i told you i’m not—”

“oh my god babe— would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?”

he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. “be useful please.”

you scoffed. “you’re the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasn’t getting involved.”

“you’re not.” he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. “just look at shit and don’t touch anything. tell me if you see money.”

you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking it’d be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplace— a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.

you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.

a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.

“i’m gonna—” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “i’m gonna check upstairs—”

“no absolutely not.” rin shook his head. “it’s probably just my friends it’s fine.”

“if it’s the maitland’s your friends aren’t gonna know what to do besides shit themselves—”

“okay yeah sure.” he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. “it’s the house babe it’s old and worn out. maybe the— wood or whatever is acting up.”

you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitland’s were definitely still present.

“can we please just go rin...” you asked softly. “please we’ll— we’ll find a different building that’s actually abandoned and doesn’t have the maitland’s still here—”

he scoffed. “y/n this one is abandoned.“

“but it’s only been three months!” you exclaimed. “i don’t wanna do this to them—”

“—oh sweet! there’s a rolex in here—”

“no!” you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. “you swore to me just money these are their things—”

“y/n they’re dead! who fucking cares? all of their shit’s gonna be donated might as well pawn it.”

“yeah for your own benefit right?” you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. “i’m going home.”

he looked at you baffled. “are you serious? over a dumb watch?”

“rin you’ve gone back on everything you promised and you’re not taking me seriously—”

“did i take the watch? no i didn’t so stop—”

“i’m not talking about just the watch!”

“you know what?! fine!” rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. “go wait in the car.”

you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.

“i’m not waiting in the damn car i’m walking home.”

“you’re walking?” he shook his head. “back to your dorm? that’s gonna take you like an hour y/n.”

you shrugged.

“fine go i don’t give a shit.” rin muttered and rolled his eyes. “you always do this man—”

you didn’t bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all you’ve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didn’t fucking deserve it.

it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever he’d barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.

upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.

muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rin’s friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitland’s things and stealing what they weren’t supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that you’ve gotten to know them.

and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitland’s room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.

but with each step that you took to get closer… the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.

your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.

the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldn’t fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly how—

“boyfriend troubles?”

“oh my god!” you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.

you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasn’t adam maitland, for the way he looked now didn’t match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.

who the fuck was he? was he— was he a spirit? because if not there’s a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside the—

“relax! relax jeez you look like you’re about to vomit sweets.”

sweets?

“are you dead?!” you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. “are you— are you alive how are you—”

he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index finger— scrunching it up and down to elicit a ‘yes’ and finding your skittishness a little funny.

“yup! so dead very dead.”

“o— oh… okay...” you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasn’t a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.

“you seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...” he looked at you amusedly. “you like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?—”

you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.

“i— i um..” you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled ‘handbook for the recently deceased’ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. “you could say that.. but—”

you hesitated, the man’s head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.

“but what pretty?”

you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.

“sorry but— how did you end up here?” you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. “and where are the maitlands?”

“oh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?” he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. “beats me..”

you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didn’t seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.

“why are they meanies?” you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.

“well— i’m kind of being held in the attic against my will by the— holy shit wait!”

he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.

“you can help me!”

“help… you..?” you squeaked.

he vigorously nodded. “yeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic… but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!”

netherworld— caseworkers— banned—

“huh?!” you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.

you’ve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat… as spirits usually just— knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.

so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.

“i did something they didn’t like.” he gave you a boyish half smile. “so they did some ritual thing and now i can’t leave the attic.”

you frowned. “why would they do that? what did you do?”

he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticed— intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.

“don’t worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else i’ll be let out to roam around the house—”

juno? who’s juno?

“—and that’s why i really need you sweets because i’m dying in this fucking attic… way more than i already am.”

you blinked at him. “i’ve never— i’ve seen spirits all my life and i’ve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? who’s juno?”

“the rule is that the land of the living isn’t supposed to know.” he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. “says it in the handbook.”

you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do so— from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.

‘live people ignore the strange and unusual.’

they do. wrongfully they do.

and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life… did that mean you were strange and unusual too?

“what?” the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.

“oh sorry!” you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. “nothing i was just—”

“‘live people ignore the strange and unusual?’” he repeated. “what about it?”

you shook your head and sent him a small smile. “nothing! i was just looking—”

“just because you can see spirits doesn’t mean you’re strange or unusual.”

you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.

“sorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...” he looked at you apologetically. “it’s another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.”

he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. “but i mean it.”

“i don’t know…” you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. “i’ve never really had friends because of it… and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what i’ve been thinking.”

you quickly picked your head up. “oh but— it’s okay! i’m okay i’m used to it spirits are nicer anyways and i’ve always been alone so—”

“that’s not true.” he mumbled.

your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

he funnily froze up again. “what do i mean what?”

“what’s not true?”

“oh! that— that spirits are nicer!” he quickly sputtered. “they’re assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!”

you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.

“people’s ignorance doesn’t define who you are sweets.” he spoke gently. “so don’t give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!”

your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasn’t even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls you’ve probably ever had the privilege to come across.

“i’ll help you.”

his eyes snapped to yours. “huh?”

“i’ll help you!” you spoke sweetly. “i’ll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.”

“wha— really?!” he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. “holy shit will you actually?!”

“yeah! why not?” you grinned. “i don’t think it’s right that you’re stuck up here all alone.”

“angel! angel! you’re an angel!” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he should’ve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.

“what’s your name then?” you muffled against his suit. “so i can—”

“ahhh fuck.” he muttered. “i forgot about one thing.”

you pulled back a little. “hm?”

“i can’t tell you my name.”

“what?” you looked at him confusedly. “what do you mean? why not?”

“it’s part of the stupid contract sweets...” he sighed heavily. “but i can give you clues! ooo!— like charades! ready?”

“oh! o—okay!” you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.

“don’t freak out.” he grinned in a silly way. “i’m about to make things show up.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “make things show up?”

he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.

“it’s okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.” he cheesed. “but guess now!”

“guess what?!” you shrieked.

“what that is!” he pointed to the bug.

you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled it’s antennas.

“a bug!”

“what kind?”

“a beetle!”

“yes!” he nodded vigorously. “okay that’s the first part!”

“your name starts with beetle?!—”

he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.

“…orange juice?” you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. “your names beetle orange juice?”

“not quite!” he made a drinking motion with his hand.

“beetle drinking orange juice?”

he laughed. “no! you’re adding too many words pretty take some out.”

“beetle drinking juice?”

“nope.”

“beetle drinking orange?”

“colder.”

“beetlejuice?—”

“yes!” he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. “yes that! and you’ve already said it once now just two more times—”

“beetlejuice.”

“uh huh uh huh—”

“beetle— mmph!”

a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.

except it wasn’t rin.

it was the maitlands.

“don’t say his name honey.” barbara spoke first. “trust me… don’t.”

“i mean— are we sure about this sweetheart?” adam looked at his wife. “maybe he isn’t all that bad… hell we don’t even know for sure—”

barbara shook her head. “adam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!”

take advantage?

you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuice’s face as he crossed his arms.

“jeez i know you don’t like me but that’s low.” he mumbled. “i wouldn’t do something like that.”

your head turned back to barbara. “you know who juno is?”

she nodded. “juno’s our caseworker… we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.”

“took us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.” adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. “but all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.”

adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.

oh god.

had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?

“warn about what.” you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.

“juno calls him a bio-exorcist.” barbara informed you. “he tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.”

your eyes bulged open. “back to life? how?”

“you switch souls with someone else through a ritual.” adam piped in. “juno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living… and they didn’t even know about it.”

“that’s not true!” beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. “the old hag made that up!”

he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.

“please sweets you’ve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybody—”

you ripped your hands away and glared. “so this entire time you’ve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?—”

“no! no i— i haven’t been lying about anything it’s juno!”

“juno.” you repeated coldly. “and what’s she lying about exactly.”

“about killing the living!” he threw his hands out in emphasis. “she literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned me—”

“and what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?”

he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.

“that’s… that’s true.”

you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.

“we don’t know what to believe either honey.” she began. “it’s a lot of he said she said… but it’s better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.”

you quirked a brow. “help? what do you guys need help with?”

“your buddies downstairs.” adam sighed. “they’re stealing our things and just messing up the house… but we’ve been watching you and we know you’ve been trying to get them out and so have we… horrendously though.”

“oh my god—” you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. “i totally forgot about them! i’m so so sorry oh my god i can’t even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is i’ve been telling them to stop—”

barbara laughed and waved you off. “it’s alright! we know sweetheart. but we’re not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever… so that’s what we were trying to get his help for.”

“and i still can y’know…” he muttered. “even though you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you juno does.” she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “adam and i are lost we don’t know what’s going on and we can’t even read that thing for the recently deceased.”

“we’re just trying to get them out of the house son…” adam finished off.

and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldn’t be happening right now… the maitlands wouldn’t have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.

because the maitland’s roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasn’t just for shits and giggles… but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.

that was their great beyond. their home.

“i’ll get them to leave.” you smiled at barbara and adam. “i don’t care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfair—”

“wait! are— are you sure sweets?” beetlejuice interjected worriedly. “your boyfriend’s kind of nuts and i can’t help you once you leave the attic—”

“i’m sure.” you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. “can’t be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive again—”

“i already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!” he argued. “but if you ask me, if it’s so bad then they shouldn’t have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.”

“juno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.” adam spoke. “because barb and i didn’t see a single page that had to do with that… mostly just tips on how to scare the living.”

beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. “doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn attic—”

he looked to you again. “—please say my name three times pretty i’ve poked in your boyfriends head and he’s looney i don’t want you to—”

“i’ll see you guys in a sec!” you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. “if nothing works i’ll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thing—”

your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin… but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.

and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainland’s things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.

“rin!”

he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.

“what are you doing here? i thought you left?”

“what the fuck?!” you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. “what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“calm down babe it’s fine.” he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. “it’s all useless shit that’s gonna dust over—”

“get out.”

he snorted. “uh huh—”

“i’m serious rin get out.” you spat. “all of you.”

“yeah like i’d listen to you.” he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. “go wait in the fucking car or go home—”

“i’m calling the cops.”

“what?!”

a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the side— it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing huh?” he spoke lowly and in your face. “embarrassing me in front of my friends like that?”

you shoved him off. “get out and find another building or i’m calling the cops rin.”

“yeah and if you do that i’m telling them you’re a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.”

your jaw dropped.

rin was being meaner than usual.

“why are you like this.” you mumbled. “i don’t even know why i’m still with you you’re an asshole and you’re pathetic—”

he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.

“pathetic? me?” he laughed humorously. “you’re the one who doesn’t have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitch—”

“rin okay that’s enough dude let her go—”

“you wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?” his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rin’s intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.

“get— off me—”

“or what?” he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. “you gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lying—”

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!”

a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mist— including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.

“never seen a man with such a power trip!” a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuice’s, the walls vibrating with each word. “seems to me like it’s all bark and no bite!”

“what did you do y/n?!” you heard rin’s distant yelling from somewhere you couldn’t pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. “who did you call?!”

“a god!” beetlejuice excitedly answered. “achilles preferably! wait actually he’s a demigod not a—”

“who the fuck is achilles?!”

the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.

“you don’t know who achilles is?” half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasn’t the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monster— huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.

but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.

“read a book your stupid is showing.”

he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.

beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. “what? you guys scared too? shouldn’t have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!”

they all looked to you and you froze, rin’s gaze narrowing.

“his little sweets?” he clenched his jaw. “the hells he talking about?”

beetlejuice didn’t know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and said— his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.

you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasn’t one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.

you looked up at beetlejuice’s huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.

“this is bullshit!” rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. “you’re a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!”

“me?!” you shot back. “maybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.”

“yup!” beetlejuice quipped. “doll if you’re still with him after all of this i’m gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.”

your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.

“i was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the house—”

“what?!” rin barked. “dump me? for what?!”

you scoffed. “are you serious? what do you mean for what?”

“fuck— babe okay i’m sorry alright? i’m sorry i’m just a little overwhelmed right now—”

“you’re a sack of shit.” beetlejuice spat. “and call her babe again and i’ll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.”

you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.

“why don’t you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend alone—”

“sweets i’ll make him go away if you marry me.”

you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.

“huh?!”

“pretty pleeaaseee.” he dragged. “you saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself… but if you marry me i’m a free man!”

“how does that—” you let out a shocked breath. “how does that even make sense—”

“marry me.”

“but i!—”

“marry me that’s my condition.”

“hold on!—”

rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.

“oh! i almost forgot about you guys!”

beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.

“which of you should i gobble up right now… i’m feeling the one on the far right! he’s trembling like a little leaf—”

“please no!” he cried. “i’ll— i’ll do anything! i’ll leave i’ll never—”

“—and i’ll save rin for the very end… best for last right?!”

they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.

“please man!—”

“i’m sorry i’m so sorry!—”

“don’t apologize to me you doofuses.” another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. “apologize to her. then maybe i’ll spare you… how’s that sound?!”

“y/n! please! i’m sorry—”

“we’re sorry dear god!—”

“y/n!—”

“put— put them down!” you wavered. “that’s enough it’s okay! jesus..”

“awww already?!” beetlejuice pouted. “but i haven’t even started swinging them around yet… like a little ferris wheel! heh.”

you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.

“it’s okay! next time! just let them go i’m sure they’ll run—”

“y/n, it seems like you understand me… you’re the only one that hasn’t bitten my head off in the entire three years that i’ve been dead!”

you laughed again. “i’m glad! now put them down please—“

“so be my wife then.”

“beetlejuice!”

“what?!” he whined. “you don’t wanna be my lawful wedded wife?”

“no!— well— just—”

“is it because i’m dead?”

“put them down and i’ll consider it!”

“yes ma’am!”

the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.

and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air you’d feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuice’s shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.

he smiled warmly at you.

“thank you.” you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hair— hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “thank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!”

you kindly nodded.

“sweetheart, are you alright?”

you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.

“that boy was insane!” she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. “we tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but we’re useless… they couldn’t see us.”

you giggled. “no it’s okay! really you didn’t need to i wouldn’t ever wanna put you guys in that position.”

“honey— he almost pushed you off the railing…” adam spoke softly. “if you hadn’t called for beetlejuice lord knows what he would’ve done… he was so aggressive and we were worried…”

your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked after— funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.

“we’re sorry for being so hard on you kid…” barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. “mistakes happen. i’m sure your passing was something you weren’t expecting like us.”

“oh! no it’s okay don’t.” he smiled brightly. “i almost killed a man i understand.”

“but we understand too.” adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. “i would’ve considered the same.”

beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.

“so are you my little wife?”

“okay—” barbara laughed. “not that you know this—”

“adam! barbara!”

a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.

was he… was he hiding you? what for?

“juno!” beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. “heyy long time no see!”

oh.

“zip it bozo.”

from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.

“what did i tell you two about letting him free?” she scolded. “he’s a loose cannon! he’s not to be trusted!”

“i know i know we’re sorry… we just really needed to get those kids out! and they’re gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!” barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. “right adam?”

“yes! uh uh!” adam stepped forward and sighed softly. “please juno… he’s just a kid. he’s learned and what he did was three years ago—”

“what he did could’ve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.” juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. “you broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.”

eternity?

oh god no.

“but now i’m gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitland’s winter river model and you better stay there!”

“what?!” beetlejuice scoffed. “juno please there’s gotta be a way i can lift those violations?”

“i’m afraid there isn’t.” she seethed.

“pretty please?”

“no.”

“with a cherry on top?”

“absolutely not.”

“not even probation?—”

“not even probation! you’re gone!”

your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuice’s suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.

you didn’t want him to go… not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.

you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldn’t juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many other souls would also kill for?

hadn’t he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldn’t be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.

had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?

why couldn’t he just be given a second fucking chance—

“pretty?”

you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.

“what are you doing here i thought—” his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.

“you grabbed me baby?”

“i—” you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. “y—yeah…”

he turned around fully.

“why?”

“because—” you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.

“because i thought we were getting married…”

beetlejuice’s expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.

“i don’t— i don’t understand—”

“what?” you giggled. “i thought you proposed to me earlier?”

“i did! yes i did!” he rapidly nodded. “but— but are you actually serious?”

you nodded. “mhm! i am!”

“you can say no sweets honestly it’s okay…”beetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. “i’ll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it don’t worry about me—”

you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “i wanna marry you… i wanna set you free.”

you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.

“i’m not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when you’ve been doing that already for years.” you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.

“you deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see…” you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. “… and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i don’t care what it is. i can’t think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.”

“you’re so pure…” he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. “you always have been.”

he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.

beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.

“i think we’re meant to be.”

you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.

“have we met?” you teasingly asked. “before you died?”

he laughed and shook his head.

you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.

“i have a question.”

his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. “yes sweets?”

“is your name really beetlejuice?”

he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.

“it’s…” he swallowed. “it’s not.”

“oh what the?” you paused, a little puzzled. “where did it come from?”

“juno.” he snickered. “the old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.”

“oh my fucking god.” you mumbled. “why the hell would she do that? that’s cruel… you’ve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.”

beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.

“that woman doesn’t care baby… so don’t sweat it.” he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. “and if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. like— yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.”

you giggled.

“so what’s your name then?”

“not important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink model—”

your eyes narrowed.

“why won’t you tell me your name?”

“—or maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!—”

“you won’t tell your soon to be wife your name?—”

“—oh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery that’s neat—”

you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.

“your name.” you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. “please.”

“i—” he blinked, utterly remorseful. “i can’t… i can’t tell you my name.”

your brows pinched. “why not? is part of your contract?”

“no— well yes.” he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so… strained.

“it’s not their contract, but my contract… with you.”

you froze.

“with—” you struggled. “i don’t—”

he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.

“it’s okay sweets but that’s all you need to know—”

“no.” you replied firmly. “what i need to know is your name.”

he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. “y/n please i put that contract on you to protect you if— if i tell you my name you’ll be hurt and i don’t want that—”

“what do you mean?” you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.

“i lied when you asked me if we had met.”

your heart dropped.

“because we have… and i— i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my name—”

he swallowed hard.

“… it’ll break the contract. and you’ll remember me again.”

you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.

slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“but i want to remember you…” you murmured. “…please let me.”

his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.

but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his name…the relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.

he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.

“satoru.”

something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful place— for the thing that was missing in particular was him.

satoru gojo.

there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.

and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friends— never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.

and you saw how much he cared about you.

how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred… a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.

you saw how you fell in love too.

and it didn’t take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.

but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.

satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.

he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.

especially when your parents died.

satoru wouldn’t leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didn’t to this day.

and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support system— without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.

but it was simply because your parents weren’t afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.

the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.

satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didn’t have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid ‘are you okay’s’ and ‘are you happy’s’ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.

you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.

because of satoru.

and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didn’t give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasn’t there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.

except it never did.

because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasn’t answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.

and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort you— to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.

but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bare— everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.

satoru’s dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.

because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored juno’s warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with him—

all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.

it was always for you.

and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless… absolutely broke you.

it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.

“baby no please—” he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. “see? i didn’t want you to remember i— i wanted you to forget—

you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldn’t quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.

“i can’t—” he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. “look at me—”

“why did you leave?!” you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. “why did you abandon me toru?! why did you—”

“i’m sor—” his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. “i’m sorry i’m so sorry i— i never wanted to leave—”

he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.

“i didn’t want to die i tried so hard not to die—”

his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.

“you left me! you were supposed to come— hic— to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!—”

you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.

he was too cold. and you couldn’t hear a heart beat.

satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.

no matter how much he wanted it.

no matter how much you wanted it.

this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

“i tried so hard.” he mumbled. “i never stopped trying to get to you that’s why juno hates me so much because i’ve violated fucking everything.”

he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.

“i got sent to the attic and i couldn’t look after you anymore and i didn’t even get the chance to let you see me either—”

besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.

“why did you take my memories i never— hic!— i never asked you to i never wanted—”

“because i didn’t want you to grieve over me pretty…” he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. “you were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.”

you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.

“i wanted to see you happy…” satoru finished off.

“was i?”

he dropped his hands and frowned.

“were you?”

“no!” you muttered. “my entire life i’ve felt like something was missing and i didn’t know why… like this— this block in my brain that i couldn’t figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.”

you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.

“i had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone… and i had accepted that too… only this entire time i did have someone. you.”

and oddly enough, through everything that happened— all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.

because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving something— someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.

“i wish you never made me forget.” you mumbled. “you’re worth remembering toru…. even if it hurts me.”

he guiltily nodded and sniffed. “m’sorry… i thought you were better off forgetting.”

a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.

but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you again— for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.

you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.

“do you still love me?” he murmured. “even though i’m dead?”

you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.

“i’ll always love you toru. wherever you are.”

“i’ll always love you.”

he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right to— since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didn’t know if you were on the same page.

but you were.

it would be stupid not to be.

you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.

but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything he’d done?

“toru.”

he hummed.

“do you remember our first kiss?”

“uh huh.” he breathed out softly. “it was in my room.”

“i think—” your nose brushed with his. “i think we should have our second first kiss.”

he bit his bottom lip and smiled.

“you think so?”

“i do.”

he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.

“i think it should look a little more like the first time.”

he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bed— just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.

“how the fuck—”

he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.

“mind manipulation pretty.” he grinned. “cool huh? i poked in your head again.”

“yeah!” you giggled. “very cool.”

“you know what else would be cool?”

“what?”

“if you gave me a little kiss.”

you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.

“you want a kiss toru?”

“uh huh.”

“how bad— mmph!—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.

and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenity— one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoru’s heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.

he suddenly pulled away, breathless.

“sweets?”

“yeah?”

“where in the actual fuck did you meet rin?”

you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. “knowing what i know now, i’m sick to my stomach toru.”

“did you meet him after i died?”

you nodded. “he was in one of my literature classes… and since back then i only remembered living my life— alone, i guess he was the first person that didn’t make me feel that way. at the start.”

“lame.” he mumbled. “you cheated on me sweets.”

“no!” you laughed again, giving him a little pout. “he was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didn’t wanna be alone again… even though i shouldn’t have.”

you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.

“did you love him?” he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.

“remembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.” you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. “and it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didn’t feel anything for him actually.”

he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.

“hmmm…”

you giggled. “what toru?”

he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.

“i’m gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. “honestly? do it. he sucks.”

“and you know what else sweets?”

you quirked a little brow. “what?”

“i’m gonna make you forget!”

“toru!” you giggled. “no more taking memor—“

satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.

he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.

“did you let him touch you pretty?”

“t—touch?—”

“mhm.” he gripped you a little tighter. “did you?”

“um.” you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. “what— what do you mean—”

“did you let him fuck you.”

your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little… guilty.

“maybe—” you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. “maybe once—”

satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.

“toru?—”

“why can’t i make you forget… hm?” he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.

“why would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me baby…”

“i— i don’t but you erased my memories—”

he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. “doesn’t matter! should’ve avoided them like the plague silly.”

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.

“i would’ve if i remembered.”

“remember this remember that—” he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.

“y’know what?” he cutely pecked your lips. “i’m gonna help you remember something!”

your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. “what?”

“that i’m the only man that ever gets to fuck you.”

satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.

he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.

“did you forget that too?” he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. “how i feel?”

“nuh uh.” you breathed out. “i didn’t—”

“tell me what you remember then sweets…”

he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.

“i remember—” your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.

“hm?” he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.

“your dick—” satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. “i remember the way you felt.”

“yeah?” he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. “and how did i feel?”

“big.” you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.

something he was positive rin didn’t even come fucking close to.

“aww.” he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. “bet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?”

you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.

“anything else you missed baby?”

arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.

“your hands— heave— on my neck when you’d fuck me—”

a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.

“my god…” he whispered. “i bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?”

with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.

“you’re so needy.”

you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.

“i take it back—”

“no!” he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. “hell no please i need to be inside you—“

he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.

“hard toru.” you whined. “please i can’t— i—”

“i know baby i know.” he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like he’d trained you— almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.

“you’re not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?” he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. “should’ve only been me… living or dead i don’t care.”

you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.

“did you— mmph— let him cum inside?”

you didn’t answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.

he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“don’t tell me you let him cum inside you little slut—”

“i didn’t!” you heaved. “i didn’t i didn’t—”

“good baby!” he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. “so you do love me.”

“i do! i love you i love you i love yo—”

his unbeating heart soared.

“you love me?”

“uh— hic!— uh huh—“

“even when i’m dead?”

you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.

“perfect my sweet little thing…” he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. “make a mess all over me baby i’ve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking years—”

you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.

“you want me to cum inside you?” he asked. “fill you up just like i used to?”

“yes! please please—”

“oh fucking well.”

he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.

“you’re gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rin’s filthy hands on you.”

satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.

“goooddd baby.” he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. “so good…”

you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.

“remember when we used to do this every night?” he smiled wickedly. “when i’d make you swallow me up?”

you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did remember— wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.

“h— oh my god—” he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. “i’m gonna— jesus baby slow— slow down slow down— hah!”

satoru’s release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from you— tip now overly sensitive.

you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.

“so you’re telling me.” you began. “that you haven’t had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?”

he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. “it’s my instinct sweets! and also because i’m sure rin did a horrendous freaking job—”

you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.

“i’m serious you know.”

he raised a brow. “about what?”

“about marrying you. even more so now.”

and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilled— face sickishly paling more than it already was.

because satoru was keeping something else from you… a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.

“what toru?”

“huh?” his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. “oh nothing nothing!”

his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing he’d practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead life— marriage with you.

this was fine. this was okay.

right?

“white or black.”

you tilted your head. “what?”

“you’ll see… but choose!” he grinned. “white or black?”

a slow giddy smile grew on your face.

“black.”

satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourself— gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.

you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you then— it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.

it was heavenly.

your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.

“three times.” he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.”

and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning… and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.

“are we…” you looked around. “are we still in the model?”

he shook his head. “nope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name… we’re in winter river baby.”

you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.

this was wrong… and satoru knew it.

but he pushed it to the back of his head again.

“we are gathered here today—”

“shit!”

you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your church’s pastor that you’d known since birth— a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.

“sorry!” you laughed. “is he… is he okay?”

“oh yeah he’s fine! he’s actually still sleeping.” he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. “i’m manipulating his head for a little bit. just until you’re my wife.”

his wife.

you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were young— them now nurturing into something real.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.”

he shouldn’t do this to you.

“today, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.”

he can’t— he can’t build a life with you… can he?

he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.

“do you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

this is wrong.

but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“i do.”

“and do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

for as long as you both shall live.

satoru can’t live.

“i d—”

“stop.”

you froze.

“what?” you asked worriedly. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m no better than the man i was when i first died.”

the look in his eyes was… odd, and it only further confused you.

“i don’t—”

“i can’t let you marry me baby.”

your heart dropped.

“what?”

“i told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and that’s true…” he began. “but there’s something else that i didn’t tell you... i— i kept it from you.”

oh fuck.

“what are you talking about toru.” your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.

“if you—” he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. “if you marry me, you’re freeing me…”

he gnawed at his lip.

“but i’m killing you.”

your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.

kill you?

“marrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.” satoru slowly shook his head. “you’ll die sweets… i can’t— i can’t do that to you.”

satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.

but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veil— just like how he’d imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how he’d imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.

this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.

and though it took forever for satoru to accept it… you and him were simply not meant to be.

for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.

“you disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!”

the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.

“this is her choice juno!—”

“she wants to let her do it!—”

“the kid’s just in love!—”

“button it or i’m sending you back to the house!” juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.

“juno!” satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. “good to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw y—”

“what the hell do you think you’re doing boy?” she spat, eyes switching to you next. “and you! young lady— this man is a spirit!”

“i—i know—”

“juno they know each other.” barbara spoke up gently. “they grew up together when he was alive.”

“yes they were in a relationship this isn’t him trying to trick her into anything—”

“no but it is.” satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. “she didn’t know about the clause… i just told her now.”

silence.

“you didn’t tell her about the clause?!—”

“are you out of your mind you cockroach?!—”

“you’re doing what you did before!—”

“i know!” satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. “i know i know that’s why i told her just now… i’m not letting her do it i— i couldn’t.”

he turned to you.

“baby i want you. i need you and that’s why i didn’t say anything like a fucking dingbat because i’m tired of living forever without you... it sucks.”

you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

“but this isn’t fair to you at all. you deserve to live man… i can’t— i won’t drag you down with me.”

“toru—”

“the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.

she placed a hand on her chest. “i’m sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i can’t think of anything more cruel.”

you both solemnly nodded.

“but the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” she repeated. “so even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.”

juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heart— the use of satoru’s actual given name now from her instead of ‘beetlejuice’ adding a layer of somber seriousness.

“and let’s just say this clause didn’t exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive… satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what i’m trying to say?”

you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.

“i won’t tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.” she continued. “the dead aren’t even supposed to associate with the living like this… but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.”

she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.

“but let me make one thing clear— the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.”

either path is difficult.

to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?

but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleak…. you had lived it for three years.

were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?

you didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it. you didn’t want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than you’d known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.

it was almost easy… you didn’t have to weigh the consequences at all.

your path was satoru.

“we’re getting married.”

“what?!” satoru frantically shook his head. “no sweets no we’re not.”

“yes we are.” you pushed. “this isn’t for you to decide it’s my choice and i choose you—”

“and i’m not letting you.” he countered. “you’re choosing wrong so unbelievably wrong—”

“but i’m not though!” you argued. “literally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesn’t have you in it is better than—”

“y/n you need to live.” he cut you off. “i died, not you it’s not supposed to be you alright? i can’t let you do this.”

tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.

“do you not— sniff— do you not want me do you want me to go away what—”

“no…” he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. “that’s the last thing i want and you know that…”

“then why won’t you marry me?” you hiccuped. “why won’t you let me stay with you?”

“baby— life is so unbelievably precious.” he moved strands of your hair away from your face. “do you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?”

you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.

“i don’t want you to take that away from yourself because of me… i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.”

“i— hic!— i don’t want to move on from you—”

“you have to sweets.” he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. “we’re not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we aren’t… and i’m sorry.”

“toru stop it—”

“please live for me okay? for the both of us. and don’t forget me either please don’t forget me—”

“why are you—” you harshly wiped your eyes. “why are you talking like that what are you doing—”

“i don’t think i should be around you anymore baby.”

“huh?!” your eyes narrowed. “are you serious?”

“satoru—”

juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.

“it won’t be good for either of us if i stick around...” he sniffled. “i need to stay away from you because if i don’t, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i can’t have that.”

“my soul?” you spat. “take it i don’t want it without you i told you already—”

“please try to understand.” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “please.”

“no—”

“i’ll see you soon okay?” satoru let go of your face. “graduate please. have kids and get married and stuff… travel.”

you were supposed to do all of that with him.

“satoru no listen to me!—”

“i love you.”

“stop!—”

satoru’s grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.

he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.

“satoru please i wanna stay with you!—”

juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.

you weren’t aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.

you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.

and you weren’t sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.

“hey— y/n?”

you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.

you were back in your dorm.

“are you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?”

you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.

“and what are you wearing?”

your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didn’t put her to room with the campus ghost girl.

“sorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me u—”

your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldn’t accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitland’s house the only thing on your mind as you ran.

your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.

you hoped he was there.. in the attic.

you hoped to god that he was.

reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until an invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.

satoru.

and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.

except you couldn’t, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.

you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.

walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldn’t even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.

you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.

was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering and— and loneliness? a life without him?

you didn’t know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see them— nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.

and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it… not wanting you.

but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasn’t going to change his mind.

and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.

you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world more— the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents… more than the one you were currently in— as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.

you felt helpless… and maybe satoru was right.

if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe that’s just the way it goes… maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry you— was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.

maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.

after an entire month, you had given up.

and satoru’s grave was the closest you knew you’d get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass… six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldn’t believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your nose— you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.

you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoru’s tombstone as you sat there in thought… not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.

there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to do— move on and forget him.

“don’t move on.”

you stiffened.

that voice… was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chri—

“don’t move on from me please… and— and don’t forget me. i take it all back.”

you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.

was it actually him?

“how are you…” you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. “how are you outside the house? i thought the contract—”

“juno gave me a hall pass…” he explained softly. “it expires at the end of the day.”

you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didn’t know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.

you slightly turned your body. “why are you here?”

“because i can’t stay away from you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.

and satoru was doing the same.

“i started to sense you distancing from me and… and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because i’m dead… but i was literally ill sweets.”

you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.

“i can’t take it.” he spoke again, shaking his head. “i can’t take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i don’t know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.”

“you sent me away.”

“i did baby…” he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. “and i regret that so fucking much. i’m sorry.”

“toru i need you to understand that you can’t make choices like that for me.”

“i know.” he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. “i’m stupid.”

“but i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesn’t have you in it… it’s not worth it now that you’re gone.”

you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.

“i would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.”

“no i don’t want you to forget me anym—”

“what’s life to you?” you asked him suddenly. “what does it feel to you? and mean?”

he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.

“warm.” he murmured. “beautiful and… pure. it’s peaceful and it means you.”

your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over again— something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.

“that’s what life is toru.” you cupped his cheek. “to me it’s not— this.”

you gestured around you. “it’s not my body or my heart, it’s not the sun and it’s not breathing. it’s you. i feel life through you and i always have… because life doesn’t literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby… it means you and me.”

satoru didn’t even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.

because yes satoru was dead… but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.

but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.

but warmth from your soul. from who you are.

that’s what life was to him… and what life was to you.

satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like he’d been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.

where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.

but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle school— living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.

satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and him— a new beginning.

but this time your wedding wasn’t at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinking— hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.

giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didn’t hurt at all either… you feeling lighter in exchange actually… happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep you— and right this time… no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.

because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die… but it had also decided to bring you back to him as well— to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesn’t end even after your hearts stopped beating.

fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.

and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.

because through sickness and in health… death could not do you both apart.

you and satoru.

together for eternity.

a lovely and incredibly beautiful fanart of this fic can be found here by @courtneedsleep !! <33

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @saelov3 @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @tsukuhoe @kayamor @lupicalbestwolf @therealkurapikakurta @amarahi123 @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic

4K notes · View notes

envy-of-the-apple · 3 months ago

Text

Third Wheel

Dark!SatoSugu x reader

(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)

Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back

Word Count: 7.3k

When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV.

It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep.

It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates.

And you were just extra baggage.

You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted.

But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you.

It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did.

"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space.

Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you.

"Yeah." You give. "Rough day."

You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider.

You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all.

When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak.

You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever.

"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?"

He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys.

"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back."

Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders.

When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob.

I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore

That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out.

"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise."

You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being.

"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them.

"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other."

Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could."

You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left.

Satoru appears first.

You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting.

Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream.

When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry.

"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes.

You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?"

"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-"

He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat.

He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms.

"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you."

It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair.

You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to.

"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay."

You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused.

"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?"

He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter."

There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it.

"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word."

He freezes. You smile at Utahime.

"Could you give us some time?" You ask.

She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you.

"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room.

"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him.

"For what?"

He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories.

"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry."

You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-"

"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up.

"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker.

"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves.

"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did."

He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you."

Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again.

But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick.

"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru."

I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter.

Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying.

A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay.

"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him.

He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone.

"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer."

His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed.

"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't."

How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.

You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship.

"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand.

"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better."

You shake your head, slipping away from his grip.

"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now."

"You haven't even given us a chance to-"

"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods.

"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house."

He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare.

There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort.

"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you.

"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"

"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not."

You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you.

"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes.

"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic."

Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her.

Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown.

You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around.

"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear.

"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?"

Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes.

"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends."

Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs.

"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue.

Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side.

"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better."

You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better.

When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared.

He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure.

And so did Suguru.

You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first.

"How have you been?" He asks nicely.

"Good." You respond. "You?"

"Good."

Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long.

"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school."

"I bet you two were scarier." You counter.

He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not.

"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh.

It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable.

"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same."

"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine."

"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were."

That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to.

But now, you don't have that desire anymore.

And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest.

"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly."

Suguru frowns, troubled.

"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-"

"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable."

"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place."

He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift.

"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that."

You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru."

You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately.

"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?"

It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole.

You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you.

You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours.

"I love you."

It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse.

"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't.

You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding.

You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet.

He's miserable.

You did this. This was all you.

"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him."

They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!' and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru.

Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.

But Shoko was right. You deserved better.

"It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal."

Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this.

Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset.

"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought.

"But what?" You press.

Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face.

"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out."

You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation.

"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?"

You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach.

It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.

You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her.

"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long.

"You'll see!" You chirp back.

Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later.

"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."

"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise."

She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'.

As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy.

Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought.

Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass.

"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you."

Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!"

You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore."

Shoko freezes mid-sip.

"What?" She asks.

"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-"

You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears.

"What's wrong?" You ask.

"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?"

That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?

"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again."

They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces.

"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal.

Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand."

At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-"

And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time.

"Oh." You breathe.

"Oh." Utahime whispers.

"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass.

"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?"

"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!"

"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle."

"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties."

"I thought we were just doing friend things!"

"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified.

"I-I-" You give up.

All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot.

Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes.

"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko.

"Do you want us?"

You take a deep breath.

You nod.

She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely.

Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more.

You break away, panting.

"You good?" She asks.

You nod.

"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now."

"What?"

Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses.

"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks."

She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit.

"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh.

"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?"

"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy.

"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy."

Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next.

And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation.

"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you."

"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy.

They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes.

"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?"

There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush.

"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet."

When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself.

You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm.

When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair.

"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight.

You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime.

Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue.

When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go."

You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams.

"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always."

"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep.

Shoko slaps your thigh.

"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face."

Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much.

You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them.

Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper.

"Awake?" She asks.

"Yeah." You softly say back.

She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch.

"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist.

Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes.

"I'm gonna get food."

Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you.

"What do you want?" She prompts.

You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door.

The interaction makes your heart warm.

Still, it can't last.

When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist.

"And where are you going?" She prods.

You fumble. "Back to my room?"

"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now."

"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?"

"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?"

"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine."

"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly.

"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder."

You laugh.

"That's not a joke." She warns.

"I know." And you kiss her again.

It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place.

They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up.

Everything was just perfect.

And then, it just wasn't.

You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled.

"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone.

Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold.

You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay?

You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it.

The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about?

The living room is horrific.

They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels.

Suguru doesn't even blink.

"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal.

"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?"

Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth.

"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition."

You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos.

"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands.

"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that."

You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting.

But you know you aren't expecting...that.

His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore.

"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them."

You step back. They step forward.

Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far.

"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-"

"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already."

He smiles again.

"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores."

"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."

They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete.

The worst part is that everything was your fault.

Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.

And you speak.

"I'm sorry."

Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions.

"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two."

Satoru halts. You caught him.

"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."

Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder.

"You missed us?" He wonders.

The lie feels like sand.

"More than anything."

His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry.

"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault."

Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much.

Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh.

"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms.

"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands.

You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance.

I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry.

Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat.

"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed."

His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here.

"I'm sorry," you say anyway.

He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer.

"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells.

And then, he grins.

"But you will be."

Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely.

You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore.

The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much.

The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness.

They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you.

You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you.

Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share.

"You were out for a while." Suguru comments.

"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs.

You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.

"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."

"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.

"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."

You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.

"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.

"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."

Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.

"Satoru, please."

"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.

Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.

"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."

The door shuts, and everything goes dark.

#yandere jjk #yandere #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #dark content #yandere gojo satoru #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto suguru x reader #dark geto suguru #shoko ieiri x reader #utahime x reader #yandere satosugu #dark satosugu #yandere scenarios #shokohime x reader

4K notes · View notes

pseudowho · 1 month ago

Text

You and Kento bustled through the kitchen, and with your arms full of plates, you couldn't resist giving the top of Yuuji's head a nuzzle and a kiss as you passed.

Yuuji smiled at you both, full and warm for the first time in years. You and Kento felt his eyes on you as you weaved past each other, in a practiced after-dinner-clean-up Tango.

"Ah...hey, Nanamin, I-- I've got, uh...I've got a, uhm..."

Kento's interest was piqued. He stopped washing up and, with one raised fine eyebrow, turned to regard Yuuji while he dried the suds off his forearms.

"What is it, Yuuji?"

Yuuji looked awkward. Eventually, he stuttered out through a sheepish grin.

"I've uh...I've got a date tomorrow, so I won't be home for dinner."

A gasp. A smash!clinkclinkclink as you dropped a mug to the floor, and Kento closed his eyes in wounded resignation for the death of his favourite mug. You stepped across him, pressing your palms to the counter, wild-eyed at Yuuji.

"A date?"

"Uh...y-yea--"

"A date date?"

"...I...Nanamin, I'm scared--"

"--she can't hurt you, Yuuji--"

"A date!"

You could barely contain your excitement; Kento huffed, plucking pieces of porcelain from the floor, while you squished Yuuji's cheeks and cooed.

Yuuji barely escaped in one piece that evening before bed, grilled for any piece of information you could get your hands on. Eventually, he escaped, the lock clicking behind him as he shut his bedroom door.

Flopping onto your back into bed beside Kento, with enough force to make his reading glasses bounce on his nose, you sighed with one dramatic arm across your forehead.

"I'm just so happy for him, Kento."

A warm little smile; a folding of the book. "Yeah. Yeah, me too. Did he say who it was?"

"You know, of all the things I asked him, I didn't ask him that."

A chuckle, a hum...a silence. A rustle of pages. A gentle removal of reading glasses, and Kento looked over you with quiet scrutiny, as if your state of undress in a t-shirt and nothing more stirred memories for him.

You blinked up at him, "...what's wrong?"

Kento's nose flared, and he laid down beside you, switching the light off. You could hear him blushing in the dark.

"Do you think Yuuji's a virgin?"

You felt a thud of realisation, and answered, "I...should think he probably is. I...what should we..."

"Don't worry," Kento answered, clipped and looping an arm over your waist, "I can handle that."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Yuuji. If you have a moment, could you come and speak to me, please?"

You felt an alarm bell in your soul. The sun was setting, on the evening of Yuuji's date, but Kento was still fully dressed. He'd even buttoned his suit jacket up and redone his tie. His pocket rustled. You could have sworn you saw a droplet of sweat drip down his temple.

You paused your murder documentary...and watched, for this would surely be more horrifying. Yuuji leaned round the bathroom door, innocently curious, and padded over with his hands in his pockets. He pulled out his phone.

"Ah...y-yeah, I think they'll be here in a minu--"

"Sit down. Please. Yuuji."

You could have sworn Kento left dents in the top of the chair that he grasped. Yuuji sat slowly, wary, looking between you and Kento. From your place on the sofa, you shrugged. Kento spoke.

"You're...a young man now, Yuuji."

"Ah...yeah. I-I guess I am. Thank--"

"--and sometimes young men have...urges."

You wished for death, but would take the entertainment before you expired. Yuuji's blush started at his chin, and climbed slowly upwards, a sun-ripening peach.

"...Nanamin. Please, you-- you don't have to do--"

"--and it's important to understand the difference between lust, and love."

"Oh god, Nanamin, I'm begging you--"

"--and while it's only natural to follow your urges, it's important to do so responsibly--"

"--Mrs.Nanamin, I'm scared--"

"--he can't hurt you, Yuuji--"

Kento pulled the rustling packet from his pocket, and placed it before Yuuji on the table. The room was thick with silence. Yuuji spoke, his voice breaking and his soul sweating.

"...Nanamin, please say that's candy--"

"I've bought you these condoms--"

"--please just let me die, Nanamin--"

"--ribbed, dots, big, small, strawberry I think--"

"--please-- I have to go--"

"--and I only ask that you're sensible and treat your partner with the respect and dignity they deserve--"

"--please treat me with the respect and dignity I deserve and just kill me Nanamin--"

"...and be home by midnight."

Silence. You had held your breath through the whole thing, and held one hand over your mouth. You studiously avoided Yuuji's gaze. Yuuji's mouth puckered, staring up at Nanami, who looked as serious as a car crash.

Yuuji's phone rang. He snatched it up, and made for the door. Kento called after him, mild, "Your condoms, Yuuji--"

"--oh well shit yeah can't forget those, fuck--"

"--language, Yuuji--"

Yuuji stood at the door, considering answering back. He took a single deep breath. He swallowed hard, and stopped himself from scarpering immediately, and turned back to Kento.

"Hey, uh...was that, erm...was that difficult for you, Nanamin?"

"It was the worst thing I've ever done in my life."

"Yeah, it--it felt it, uhm..." Yuuji waggled the bag of condoms with a smirk, pocketing them, "Thanks, dad. Nobara and Megumi are waiting. We'll go for a date, and the other idiot's our chaperone apparently."

As the door clicked closed, Kento released one great heaving breath, and arched back with his hands over his face, releasing an enormous, animalistic groan of agony.

You bubbled over, snickering, and traced one toe up Kento's thigh from behind.

"...oh hey, Mr.Nanami, sir, can you teach me about the birds and the bees--"

"Quiet."

3K notes · View notes

girlygguk · 17 days ago

Text

WIT IT THIS CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

you’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. this time, you let them know. or, better yet, hear.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 2 of 6

pairing drummer!jk x secret situationship fem!reader

genre fwb2l, angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni

content jk 25 | yn 22, bratty oc, jk knows how to handle her, jk is in an alt rock band with jinnie and yoongs, tae is jk's best friend & oc's confidant, vmin are bfs, jk spoils oc, babygirl just wants to be cuffed, ruined christmas plans, oc whines a bit, oc gives jk the cold shoulder for approx 7 mins before folding bc… idk dick too good i guess, jealousy (both parties, more so oc's side), neither of them entertain it tho, fwb but like exclusive ones because cmawn… it's me, kissing, grinding, groping, big tiddy reader, big tiddy sucking, sm dirty talk & praise, quick bj, cunnilingus, choking if u blink, oc gets fucked w his drumsticks, and then his cock, condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control, clothed sex, sub dom dynamics, daddy kink, a little tiny bit of squirting i think, creampie, happy but very abrupt ending sorryyy

word count 8.9k

banner by the lovely @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

North Star Pavilion, Seoul

Christmas lights twinkle across the city, their warm glow mocking the chill in your chest. Everything feels like too much—too cold, too noisy, too far from what you actually wanted today. What you were promised.

The van door slams shut behind you, the biting breeze nipping at your skin as your boots crunch against the icy gravel.

Jungkook follows close behind, his shoes scuffing against the ground as he jogs to catch up.

“Baby,” he calls softly, reaching for your hand. But you shrug him off, your arms folding tightly over your chest as you keep moving toward the back entrance of the venue.

Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the icy air. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his tone dipping into that pleading softness that always makes you want to fold. “Y/n, I had to—”

“I’ll see you after the show, J.”

Your voice comes clipped and cold as you cut him off, not bothering to look back. His soft footsteps falter, and you can feel his eyes fixed on you.

For a brief, brief moment, something in you threatens to crack.

But you don’t let it.

The angry stomp of your boots against frozen pebbles drowns out anything he might have said as you disappear through the back, weaving through the venue without so much as a glance in Jungkook’s direction.

The warmth of the building barely registers. It isn’t enough to thaw the stubborn frost clinging to your chest as you move down the hall, barely nodding at the familiar faces of the staff who greet you in passing.

Eventually, you find an empty corridor, the hum of the growing crowd muffled by the walls. Leaning back against the cool tile, you tip your head back and let out a bitter scoff.

This isn’t how today is supposed to fucking go.

Rolling your eyes, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone, desperate for a distraction. But the memory you’ve been avoiding all day slips in anyway—very vivid and very unwelcome.

Yesterday, you’d been curled up on your couch, your legs draped lazily over Jungkook’s lap as the soft glow of the tiny Christmas tree on your coffee table lit up the room. It had become a routine of sorts—the quiet calm after his shows, a pocket of peace that felt like yours and his alone.

Jungkook’s tattooed fingers traced idle patterns over your calf, the gentle pressure soothing against your bare skin. You were warm and sleepy from the shower you’d shared earlier, your body clad in a little sleep shirt and panties. Jungkook, in his sweats and no shirt, smelled faintly of your shampoo, his long, damp hair falling loose around his face.

It was all so soft, so cozy, so domestic.

So fucking stupid.

You caught him staring, his gaze steady and quiet, that intensity in his dark eyes making your stomach do that stupid flippy thing.

“Watcha lookin’ at, creepy?” you squinted, nudging his stomach with your foot.

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he shook his head, his fingers still lazily stroking your leg. “Nothing,” he hummed, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he dropped it back to his phone.

You tossed your own phone to the side, crawling onto his lap with a light shove to his shoulder. He grunted softly as you shifted over him when he lay down, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you flopped against his chest.

“You okay?” you murmured into his neck, your fingers brushing softly over his collarbone.

“Very,” he replied, his voice low, his big hand sliding up to smooth over and cup your ass.

You smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I bought us Christmas pajamas,” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his pulse.

Jungkook paused for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh, his fingers stilling briefly before resuming their lazy path. “Did you?”

“Yup,” you said, smirking. “Try not to wear them, and your ass is spending Christmas alone.”

His laugh deepened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties to rub slow, little circles over the curve of your skin. “I’ll wear them, baby,” he promised.

“Know you will,” you whispered, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck.

His head tilted, granting you more access as a low, soft grunt rumbled from his throat, the sound enough to make you press closer.

You were ready to tease him further, your tongue lazily flicking over his pulse, when his phone buzzed loudly on the couch beside you.

He shifted, reaching for it with one hand while his other stayed firmly on your thigh, absently stroking your skin. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, soothed by the soft, lispy cadence of his voice.

Until you heard it.

“North Star fucking Pavilion, bro! On Christmas Day!” The Spine Breakers’ lead singer’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The check is insane, JK!”

Jungkook sighed heavily, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. “I already have plans, Jin-hyung—”

“We need you, man,” Yoongi, his bass player, cut in. “You’re our drummer. We can’t do this without you, dude...”

The air shifted. You felt it before you even opened your eyes.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned. You could feel his gaze on you, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to intervene. But you didn’t. You stayed still, letting him make his choice.

“Fuckin—okay, okay, hyung,” he muttered into the phone, his voice resigned as he cut off Jin’s begging. “I’ll do it.”

The second the call ended, you climbed off him, ignoring the hand that reached for you, brushing off the way he called your name. The bedroom door slammed angrily behind you.

He followed, of course.

Jungkook dropped down on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he tried to apologize, his voice soft and pleading. But you didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. You fell asleep facing the wall, his hand still resting on your stomach.

And now, here you are.

Not curled up on the couch, watching a stupid Christmas movie like you had planned. Not eating takeout, because neither of you can cook for shit. Not sneaking up to the roof to get holiday high together.

No. Instead, you’re standing in a cold, empty hallway of one of Seoul’s biggest holiday locales, the muffled roar of the crowd growing louder behind the door to your left.

The hem of your winter dress shifts as you fidget, the festive vibe of your outfit doing little to match the storm in your chest. At least it’s black. That’s, like, emo, right?

Whatever.

Merry fucking Christmas. And fuck Jeon Jungkook.

The crowd thickens as you weave through, the bass of the background music vibrating under your boots with every step. People press in on all sides, the noise a tangled mess of cheers and shuffling feet. You don’t let it faze you, your eyes scanning the mass for a familiar figure.

The closer you get to the side stage, the more recognizable faces appear—crew members rushing around, regular staff you’ve seen countless times at past shows. But it’s not until your gaze catches on a mop of black hair that some of the tension in your shoulders finally lifts.

You spot your boy...friend’s best friend leaning against a speaker, his ear piercings glinting under the scattered lights. A plastic Christmas wreath headband sits snugly atop his neatly straightened curls, and the corner of your lips quirks up despite yourself.

He notices you before you reach him, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts the beer bottle in his hand in greeting.

By the time you push through the last cluster of people, your gaze flicking over his ripped jeans and the artful layering of his black shirts, he’s already stepping forward to wrap you in a hug.

“Ah,” Taehyung says, giving you a once-over, his brows wiggling as he pulls back. “We’re matching.”

You glance down at your black-on-black outfit, then at his. “I’m in a mood,” you roll your eyes, though a quiet laugh escapes.

Taehyung hums knowingly, offering you the spare beer in his other hand. You take it, cracking the cap before taking a long sip. Your gaze flicks toward the stage, where crew members scurry to finish sound checks and tune the equipment.

“It’s fucking packed,” he comments, nodding toward the crowd, which seems to grow thicker by the second. “J said tickets sold out in minutes.”

You hum noncommittally, your focus still fixed on the stage. “Of course they did. It’s Christmas, and these emos don’t have anything better to do.”

Taehyung snickers, leaning in to nudge your shoulder. “And your excuse? No Christmas plans…?”

You shoot him a glare, taking another sip of beer as he raises his hands in mock defense.

“Still haven’t made up yet?” he prods, his tone teasing, knowing.

“Nope,” you huff, the sound bratty as your gaze flicks around the venue. “I’m ignoring him until Valentine’s Day. And if I’m not cuffed by then, I’m castrating the motherfucker.”

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Why not just ask him to go steady again?”

“Because,” you grumble, pointing the neck of your beer bottle at him, “he’s the one who doesn’t want me seeing other guys. So, he can ask me.”

Taehyung arches a brow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t you also say you didn’t want him fucking with other chicks?”

“Shut up,” you huff, giving him a halfhearted shove as he laughs again.

The minutes pass as the venue comes alive, the energy thickening the air around you with heat. The chatter grows louder, the crowd swelling until it feels like the walls are pulsing. You and Taehyung stand shoulder to shoulder, unfazed by the chaos. You’ve done this too many times before—waiting at the edge of the stage, watching the lights dim as the band take their places.

You hadn’t met Jungkook through Taehyung, though. You’d met Taehyung first at one of their early performances, back when The Spine Breakers were barely on anyone’s radar.

It had been a little bar in the city, the kind of place where the beer was watered down and the sound system was a half-step away from blowing out. You’d gone with your friend Marcy, both of you already knowing a good chunk of TSB's songs before the first chord even played.

Most of the crowd back then hadn’t been as familiar, more there for the vibe than the band. You’d been a few rows back, swaying to the music, when Taehyung walked by and stumbled into you, spilling half his beer onto your skirt.

He’d been flustered, apologizing immediately and offering to buy you another drink as yours dropped on the ground. When you’d rolled your eyes and waved him off, turning back to Marcy without much more than a shrug, he hadn’t used it as an excuse to keep bothering you. Sad as it might sound, that had caught your attention—guys who actually took a hint were fucking rare.

He’d genuinely seemed sorry, even offering to hold your place if you wanted to head to the bathroom to clean up. You’d given him a once-over, told him it didn’t bother you, and pulled him into your little huddle instead.

By the end of the night, Taehyung was dancing to the music beside you and Marcy, and when the set ended, he asked if you wanted to come backstage to meet the band. You’d told him to shut the fuck up, convinced he was joking.

He wasn’t.

That was the first time you’d seen Jungkook up close. The first time you’d stared a little too long at the drummer with the intriguingly quiet intensity and ink-covered arms that you wanted to run your tongue along.

While Marcy hit it off immediately with Tae—bonding over their matching daith piercings or whatever—the pull between you and Jungkook had been something else entirely.

Maybe you’ve been to every single one of his shows since then. Maybe you took a gap year from college, picking up shifts at a club in town to cover your rent while Jungkook paid for everything else. Maybe you’ve only been with one other guy in the 449 days you’ve known him—and that was way back, in the early days, before it all started to feel like this.

Maybe.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone casual but his smile teasing. “You’re doing it again,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, clearing your throat as your gaze flickers back to the stage. Jungkook’s seated behind his drum set now, a crew member leaning in close as she adjusts his mic stand.

“S’okay,” Taehyung replies with a quiet laugh, raising his bottle to his lips. He leans back against the speaker, his grin softening. “You guys wanna come over for drinks after the show? Jiminie made Christmas pudding.”

You blink, your focus still trained on Jungkook as the staff member smiles at him, her mouth moving—maybe asking if he was okay, if he needed anything else. His tongue flicks over his lip rings, his head tilting slightly as he shakes it in response.

She lingers.

He gives her a dismissive, doe-eyed look from under his lashes, his dimple peeking out as he shakes his head again. Finally, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances around quickly, and scurries backstage.

Slut. The both of them.

Your lips press into a line, your eyes narrowing as you take another sip of beer. “Sure, I’ll come,” you mutter half-heartedly to Taehyung without taking your eyes off Jungkook.

His gaze catches yours from the stage.

You look away.

The crowd roars as Jin takes the mic, yelling out a quick greeting before launching right into their set.

The music is electric, Yoongi's smooth, heavy bass and Jungkook’s crisp, pounding drumming vibrating through your chest as the band plays. You can’t help but let your body move with Jin's voice, nodding your head along as Taehyung sways beside you, the beer in his hand getting lower by the minute.

Halfway through the third song, a guy squeezes his way through the crowd toward you and Taehyung. At first, you don’t think much of it—packed shows like this always mean a little too much physical closeness. But when he stops right next to you, leaning in far closer than necessary, his intentions become annoyingly clear.

“Hey,” he shouts, his voice barely cutting through the music.

You glance at him briefly, tilting your head and pursing your lips before looking back at the stage.

The guy doesn’t get the message—or maybe he doesn’t care. “You here alone?”

You shake your head shortly, keeping your eyes fixed on the stage. “Nope.”

Taehyung notices the exchange but doesn’t intervene, his gaze flicking between you and the guy as he sips his drink.

The guy leans in again, louder this time, more insistent. “You want another drink?”

You roll your eyes, stepping closer to Taehyung. “I’m good,” you say flatly, your tone leaving no room for interpretation.

From the stage, you notice Jungkook’s playing start to shift. His drumming grows heavier, each strike more intense than usual. Your gaze flicks to him, catching the way his eyes keep darting toward your spot in the crowd.

Exhaling through your nose, you swap places with Taehyung in an attempt to move out of the guy’s line of sight. Taehyung’s grin fades into something firmer when he notices.

Taehyung lowers his beer, turning to the guy, his taller frame blocking the dude’s view of you entirely. “You good, man?”

The guy hesitates, visibly weighing his options. He looks like he wants to argue but ultimately decides against it, laughing under his breath before slipping back into the crowd.

Taehyung watches him walk off, shaking his head before leaning closer. “You alright, Y/n?”

You nod, offering a light rub on his arm in thanks, but your attention is already back on Jungkook. He’s still looking, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

The last notes of the set fade into a wave of screams as the stage becomes a field of tossed roses and stray undergarments. Jin, as always, makes a show of it, crouching to pick up a red lace bra and biting down on the strap with a cheeky grin. His bandmates laugh as the crowd loses their shit, Yoongi shaking his head as Jin winks into the audience.

They bask in the chaos for a moment longer, waving to the crowd before the elder two begin to slip offstage. Jungkook lingers behind, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath. He drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as he straightens to his full height, chest rising and falling in exertion.

Just before he steps off, his eyes find yours. His gaze drags, a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, a subtle sniff of his nose. Then he’s gone, following his bandmates backstage.

Taehyung nudges your arm lightly. “Ready?”

You hum, nodding as you start making your way through the crowd, the buzz of energy still heavy in the air. The hallway to the dressing rooms is dim, much quieter than the rest of the venue.

Up ahead, you spot Jin and Yoongi walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook. They’re laughing at something, their figures disappearing around the corner. Jungkook trails behind them, dragging his hand through his hair again, the motion automatic.

Then you see her.

The staff girl from earlier is struggling with a speaker, her grip tight on the handle as she drags it down the hallway. When she glances up and spots Jungkook, her face lights up instantly.

Your steps slow without thinking, your gaze locking on her as she stops beside him. There’s a shy tilt to her smile as she offers him the water bottle balanced on top of the speaker. Jungkook takes it with a murmured thank you, cracking the seal and tipping it back, like he’s barely aware of her lingering.

But she doesn’t move.

She starts talking instead, her pace quickening to match his as he walks. Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, her eyes flicking up at him now and then like she’s gauging his mood.

Taehyung shifts beside you, his gaze flickering between you and the scene unfolding a few feet ahead. You can feel his curiosity, but you don’t acknowledge it. Your eyes stay glued to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose head tilts slightly as he glances back at the girl, then forward at his bandmates. You catch the faintest crease in his brow before he slows his steps and eventually stops altogether.

The girl stumbles slightly at his sudden halt, her grip on the speaker slipping. Jungkook’s hands dart out instinctively, but she catches herself before he touches her. He pulls back quickly, murmuring, “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes,” she replies, her voice flustered.

Your lips press into a thin line as you watch, something sharp curling in your stomach.

He’s not doing anything, you tell yourself. He didn’t even touch her.

But he would’ve if she hadn’t caught herself, a snide voice in the back of your head sneers, cutting through your logic.

You shake off the thought, ignoring the way your chest tightens as Jungkook shifts. His hand brushes over his jaw while she continues speaking, her words softer now.

You don’t hear much after that. It’s not because the hallway is loud—it’s not. It’s the pounding of your pulse in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook finishes the bottle of water, twisting the cap back on with a quick flick of his wrist. “I gotta go,” he says, lifting the empty bottle as a gesture of thanks before brushing past her.

She hesitates, her hand still on the speaker’s handle as she watches him walk away. Her face burns red, and she fidgets slightly, but eventually, she turns back to her task, dragging the speaker further down the hall.

Your eyes stay fixed on Jungkook as he reaches the dressing room door. His free hand lifts to wipe the sweat from his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the toned lines of his stomach flashing briefly before the fabric falls back into place. The drumsticks clutched in his other hand tap lightly against the now-empty bottle as he disappears inside.

Taehyung pulls your attention back, rubbing your arm soothingly before nodding toward the door. “You coming?”

You nod quickly, shaking off the haze that lingers as you follow him down the hall.

The dressing room is warm and noisy, Jin and Yoongi sprawled out like they’ve been there for hours. Yoongi greets you with a rare smile, handing you a can of seltzer as you lean down to hug them both. Jin, already halfway through his beer, ruffles your hair affectionately before leaning back into the couch like he’s clocking out for the night.

You drop down beside Jungkook, your usual spot on his lap notably left empty. His brow furrows immediately, the arm around your waist tightening slightly as he tries to pull you closer to him.

“No, J,” you mutter, giving him a pointed look.

He grumbles under his breath, clearly displeased, but his hand slips down to link with yours instead. His thumb brushes idly over your knuckles, and for now, he settles.

The conversation flows around you as Taehyung throws out an invitation to his place. “Jimin’s been baking all day,” he says. “And we’ve still got drinks leftover from the other night.”

It’s an easy yes from everyone. The energy in the room shifts, a slow wind-down as cans and bottles are finished and the band starts getting ready to head out.

When you stand, Taehyung catches your arm, pulling you aside as Jungkook follows, his arm still firmly around your waist. “Hey, just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he says, his head tilted in slight concern.

Jungkook frowns, his gaze falling to your face. “Why wouldn’t she be? Did something happen?”

Taehyung glances at you, waiting for permission before answering. After you shrug and turn to Jungkook, Taehyung speaks. “Some dude wouldn’t leave her alone earlier,” he says simply.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his grip around your waist firming. Your hand squeezes his as you tilt your head at Taehyung. “I’m really okay, Tae, but thank you for looking out for me.”

Taehyung studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Always.” He pulls you into a quick hug before doing the same with Jungkook. “Jimin’s waiting outside. You guys need a ride back to our place?”

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook. He stays quiet, his tongue working the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused.

“We’ll come together,” you answer after a beat.

Taehyung nods, flashing you both a smile before heading for the door. The room empties out slowly after that, the others trailing behind Taehyung until it’s just you and Jungkook left in the quiet.

You glance at Jungkook as you shift on your feet. “Do you want me to order an Ub—”

“What did he do?”

You look up, his jaw tight as he stares at you. “That guy,” he starts again, quieter now, his words laced with tension. “Did he do something to you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“J,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It was nothing. Just some loser.”

He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something you’re not sure he’ll find. “And you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you nod.

His frown doesn’t relent as he closes the space between you in a few slow steps. His voice dips lower as he murmurs, “Fucking hate seeing guys trying to get with you, Y/n… not knowing you’re mine—”

Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. “Let’s not do this right now, J.”

His brows pinch. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you bite back, your tone a little sharper. “Especially not when you’ve got bitches crawling all over you, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Baby—”

“No, like this is so fucked, Jungkook. I’m tired of it. You promised me a cute night tonight, and I didn't get it. Fuck you.”

His teeth tug at his lip ring as he shakes his head, ready to apologize again, but you’re not done.

“And what about her? That slutty mic tech or whatever the fuck she is, leaning down with her tits all in your face? Or just so happening to have a fresh bottle of water ready for you backstage? God, don’t.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous—”

“And then you do this!” you whine, throwing your hands up. “I’m tired of it, J. If I’m just another one of your groupies, what the fuck ever. But don’t be surprised when I go find someone who—”

His voice cuts through your rant with a hum. “Someone who what?”

He’s right in front of you now, so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes flick between yours, waiting for an answer you don’t fucking have.

“You want someone else, baby?” he presses, his voice dropping even further.

Your lips twist, a bratty huff escaping as your frustration crumbles under his intensity. “No, you fucking asshole.”

His head tilts, his lips quirking into something between a smirk and a grin. “No?” he mocks lightly, his tone teasing, coaxing.

“No,” you mumble, quieter this time.

He hums, leaning closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing the side of your face as his gaze softens, his teasing edge dissolving into something heavier.

“And what do you want, baby?”

You blink, your eyes flicking to the thick line of his arm beside your face, his cologne and sweat mixing into something intoxicating. It fills your lungs, dizzying you more than you want to admit.

“You, idiot,” you mumble. “Want you.”

His lips twitch as he leans down, his voice a low hum against your mouth. “Y’wanna be mine, baby?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your body tilting toward him like it’s instinctual. His mouth grazes yours, soft and teasing, like he’s pretending to give you a choice.

But you know better.

There is no choice. It’s him. It’s always been him.

His lips press fully against yours, damp and plush from the way he’s been licking over them all night between backing vocals. You melt into the kiss, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm, slightly sticky skin of his back. He leans in closer, jaw tilting as his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You keen softly, sucking the muscle between your lips and savoring the low groan he gives in return.

Then you pull back.

His eyes blink open slowly, a haze clouding his dark irises as he stares down at you.

“Do you want that?” you ask softly, tilting your head.

“Do I want you to be mine?” he echoes, his brows lifting slightly, his head shaking like the question is absurd.

You give him a pointed look, nodding just enough to make it bratty.

“I thought you were already mine,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your dress. His touch is reverent, his gaze dipping over you as a satisfied grunt escapes his lips. “I’m already yours, baby..”

“Just mine,” you lean into his hold, your words brushing against his skin, “nobody else’s…”

“Just yours,” he nods firmly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours, the softest smile tugging at his lips. “There’s been no one else since you, baby.”

The back of your neck tingles as his pretty nose drags along yours, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your pout before trailing down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm, his lips brushing against your skin as he mumbles, “I just didn’t think you wanted the title…”

Your brows pull together, and your hands slide up to cup his face, tugging him back so you can look him in the eye. “I want the title.”

One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked little smile, his head tilting just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but sure. “Then you can have it, angel.”

A hum of satisfaction escapes you, your hands squeezing his cheeks with a smile. He chuckles softly, leaning back down to steal another kiss, but you pull away before he can reach you.

“Oi,” he grumbles, the faintest pout forming on his lips. “Why? I want a kiss.”

Your hands drop from his face, crossing over your chest as you fix him with a look. “Ask me.”

His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his features. “What—? I thought we just—”

“No.” You huff, squinting at him as you take a step back, dodging his hands when he reaches for you. “I want the proper thing. I’ve been waiting so long for the girlfriend title. Ask me properly.”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, his lips twitching as he fights back a groan at your cuteness. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Your squint sharpens, your stance firm despite the way your heart jumps when his lips curve into a grin.

“Aishh,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. “Y/n,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “will you be my girlf—”

“Yes!”

You don’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to meet your lips, cutting off the surprised huff he lets out. Your arms loop around his neck as you pull him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, steadying you, but you’re already slipping your tongue past his lips, swallowing the low groan he gives.

When you finally pull back for air, your breath is shaky, your lips humming. You stare at him, taking in his swollen mouth and the mess of his hair, his pupils blown wide they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks so good it’s almost fucking devastating.

“God, yes,” you murmur, your fingers brushing over his jaw before tugging him back down.

“You’re—okay with this—” Jungkook murmurs between heated kisses, his words coming in low breaths. “Your gap year’s almost over, baby—mmf—the distance… me being gone all the time?”

You pull back just enough to see his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His words hit you, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, your mind racing to keep up with the weight of what he’s asking.

“I can do my studies remotely,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure. Your hands slide up his shoulders as you tilt your head, searching his gaze for a hint of doubt. “I can…” You pause, swallowing as your heartbeat kicks up. “Like… travel with you, if you wanted—”

Jungkook surges forward, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that feels like he’s pouring every unspoken thought straight into your mouth. His hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer until your soft body’s pressed tight against him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, voice rough as his mouth moves against yours. The groan he lets out vibrates through you when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly before letting it slip free. “I had no fucking idea, baby. I would’ve...”

You hum softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath coming in quick. “Would’ve what?”

His fingers tighten on the curve of your ass, holding you steady as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. “Would’ve made you mine the first time I fucking took you, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping back into your mouth.

A breathy laugh escapes as you lean into him, your hands threading through the damp strands of his hair. “So... the first night we met?” you tease, your voice swallowed by his eager mouth.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles against your lips, his tone low and sinful as his hands drop to the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up easily. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and he carries you the few steps to the couch, dropping down with you prettily perched in his lap.

His lips find yours again, hungrier, wetter. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking deep into you, chasing the tang of raspberry seltzer still lingering on your tongue. His hands roam higher, sliding over the fabric of your dress, fingertips pressing as they search for skin.

Without breaking the kiss, your fingers fumble with the little zip at the front of your jacket, the metallic sound making him pause. Jungkook leans back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your hands as you slide the zipper down. His tongue darts over his lip as the fabric falls away, leaving your corset-top barely holding your tits in place.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the word guttural. His eyes trail over your exposed skin, his hands moving on instinct to pull the hem of your dress down. The fabric drops, and your breasts spill free into his waiting hands, his thumbs eagerly brushing over your hardened nipples.

His mouth surges forward, latching onto your left nipple with a deep groan. He exhales through his nose, the sound almost a sigh, like his whole body just relaxed the second he had you in his mouth.

“God,” you whimper, your hips rolling against the bulge in his jeans, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts around your nipple, his wide tongue swirling over the peak before sucking gently. “These fucking tits,” he mutters, his voice thick as his hands knead the soft flesh. “Big, juicy fucking tits. All fucking mine, yeah?”

“Mmmh,” you whine, grinding harder as your fingers tug at the ends of his long hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. “All yours, Jungkookie. Always been yours.”

His cock twitches beneath you at the nickname, and his eyes flick up to your face. He coos through his mouthful before gently switching to your other bud.

“All mine,” he mumbles, the words muffled as he chews softly on your hard nipple, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. His big hands press your tits together, bringing them closer to his face, and he pulls back slightly to hum. “All daddy’s, isn’t that right, angel?”

“Nnnm,” you whine, your hips stuttering against him as the teasing tone has you clenching around nothing. “Yes, daddy. All yours. No one else’s.”

“Mm, that’s my girl.” His tongue flicks over your nipple one last time, pulling a soft gasp from your lips before his hand slides up to the front of your throat.

He brings you back down to his mouth, your tongues meeting immediately, wet and eager. His grip stays steady on your neck, thumb brushing softly along the sides as your hands bury deeper into his hair. The roll of your hips against his lap matches the rhythm of the kiss, each grind pulling a quiet groan from his throat that vibrates into your mouth.

The room is silent save for the wet, slick sounds of your lips and the rustle of your dampening panties against his jeans. Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around your neck, and you lean into it, moaning lowly when he catches your tongue between his teeth.

You pull back, your breaths uneven as you take hold of the wrist still resting at your throat, guiding it away. Your eyes meet his as you bring his hand to your lips, your tongue flicking over the tips of his middle fingers before sucking them into your mouth. No reason, really. Because you want to. Becaue you can.

Jungkook’s gaze stays heavy on you, his lids low as his tongue drags over his lip. You release his fingers with a soft pop, and he licks the remnants of your saliva from his hand when you let go.

Sliding off his lap, you reach for the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down with haste. You shimmy the denim over his hips, just far enough to bare his briefs. His cock presses against the black fabric, hard and thick, the sight alone making your stomach rumble.

Leaning down, you brush your lips over the length of him, the heat of his cock radiating through the cotton. A soft, hungry hum slips from you, and Jungkook groans quietly, his head tipping back against the couch.

One of his hands moves to the cushion beside him, the other slipping into your hair, brushing it back as you mouth over his covered cock.

Your hand slides under the waistband of his briefs, your lip catching between your teeth as his warm, hard length pulses against your palm. You pull him free, savoring the low curse that slips from his lips when you guide it to your lips and take the thick tip into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” he huffs, his hips lifting slightly as your tongue swirls over the head.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathy. “Get it nice and wet for daddy. Go on, baby.”

Your eyelids feel heavy as you obey, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and soaking his tip in it. The slick sound fill the quiet room, mixing with Jungkook’s sharp breaths and the low grunts slipping from his lips.

Your tongue moves slowly, wetting him nice and thoroughly, and his fingers twitch where they hold your hair out of your face. His head tips back further, a deep groan escaping as his hips up rock into your mouth on instinct.

Your lips work sloppily over his length as you take him deeper, your hand pumping the base as he groans low in his chest. “Good girl, baby,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the curve of your jaw as he watches you, his lashes heavy. “Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise makes you ache, the wetness pooling between your legs unbearable. Jungkook seems to sense it, his hand wrapping around your arm to pull you off him with a wet pop. His lips are on yours the moment you’re upright, licking into your mouth like he’s chasing his own taste on your tongue.

You melt against him, humming softly as his hands cup your waist, guiding you back until your spine presses into the couch. He hovers over you, his bigger frame warm between your parted thighs. Your boots dig into the cushions on either side of him, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you.

Jungkook’s hands are hasty as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs, exposing the black lace stretched over your dripping core. His adam’s apple bobs as he hums, his thumb brushing over the darkened patch where your slick has seeped through.

“So pretty, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his tattooed thumb firmly against you. The friction makes you gasp, your hips jerking toward his hand.

The lace doesn’t last long. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls it down just enough to expose you, wasting no time before dipping down. His mouth latches onto your pussy in one go, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flying to his hair. The heat of his mouth is overwhelming, his tongue teasing your swollen clit before dragging down to press at your entrance. He groans as he tastes you, sucking your folds into his mouth like a greedy fuck.

You whimper when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue circling the bud before flicking over it repeatedly. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against your pussy fills the room, and your hips buck against his face—

“Uh… J-Jungkook?”

You freeze, your eyes snapping to the door as your blood runs cold.

There is no fucking way.

Jungkook doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements grow greedier, his mouth slurping noisily at your cunt as though he didn’t hear a thing.

You bite back a moan when the bitch's voice comes again, shaky and hesitant. “Sorry, uh… your friends got you a driver, and it’s—uh—can you hear me? Should I come in?”

Your hand tightens in Jungkook’s hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole. “Tell her to fuck off,” you gasp, your voice pitching higher when his lips close around your clit. “Jung- fuck- Jungkook.”

He hums into your pussy, the vibration shooting through you as his tongue drags lower. “You do it, baby,” he murmurs, the words muffled by your slick folds. His lips press deeper you as he mumbles. “Tell her your boyfriend’s busy, hm?”

Jungkook’s mouth doesn’t falter, his jaw working as he fits as much of you into his mouth as he can, lips wrapping around your folds while his tongue drags over your clit. His jaw moves, sucking and licking, pulling sinful sounds from your throat like it’s his final fucking mission.

His hand fumbles to the side of the couch, searching for something, but you barely register it through the haze of pleasure. “Jungkook, seriously—”

The girl’s voice cuts through again, louder this time. “Uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, so I’m going to come in—”

Before the words fully register, you feel it. The slick, cool tip of a drumstick sliding into your cunt.

“Fuck!” The cry rips from your throat, loud and uncontrollable as your back arches off the couch. The stretch is sharp, sudden, but it has your toes curling, pleasure overtaking every thought as your grip tightens on his hair.

The sound outside the door ceases instantly, but you couldn’t give a fuck less.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless as it flicks over your clit, fast and precise, his lips drenched as they lap at your soaked pussy. He glances up, watching you through his lashes, his big eyes dark as he gauges your reaction.

He’s slipped plenty of things inside you before—his fingers, his cock, even the handle of a vibrator… but never this. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fantasy of his, something he’d thought about during one too many late-night practices when you were at home and he was missing you.

“That okay, baby?” he murmurs with a mouth full of pussy. His long fingers grip the drumstick firmly, holding it still, not pushing deeper until you give the green light. His thumb brushes the edge of your clit, adding another layer of friction as his tongue continues its work. “Gonna let daddy fuck you with it, baby?”

“Yesss,” you whine, your head lolling against the couch. Your thighs tremble around his head as you pant, the word spilling from your lips like a fucking prayer. “Yes, please, daddy. God, I fucking want it, baby, please.”

Jungkook groans into your cunt as he presses the drumstick deeper, the slick glide making your legs quake. His tongue continues it's soft, wet work against your clit, a little slower as he eases the stick into your hole.

He works it in deeper, his pace quickening with every breathy moan that falls from your lips. The smooth wood glides in and out of your pussy with ease, covered in your juices everytime it pulls out, and the angle he’s hitting has your back arching into his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.

“Fuckk,” you gasp, your nails scratching into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as the thin stick brushes your g-spot. “Fuck, daddy—”

He groans against you, his lips dragging over your clit before his tongue flicks faster and faster. “That good, baby?” He hums, “daddy making you feel good, hm?”

“So fucking gooodd,” you cry, your chest heaving, your hips chasing the movements of his hand as he thrusts the drumstick faster. Your walls clamp around it as your head spins, tears welling in your eyes.

Jungkook gives one more slurp before pulling back just enough to catch your fucked-out expression. His lips glisten with your slick, hair messy from your tugging. “Want the other one, baby?” he asks, voice honeyed with mockery as his thumb brushes over your clit.

You whimper without hesitation, your thighs clenching around his head. “Fuck, please, daddy. Please.”

“Mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, his tongue dragging a long, wet stripe over your clit as he reaches for the second stick.

You barely have a moment to prepare before the second one presses into you, your toes curling as he works it in beside the first. “Oh my fuck,” you choke, your head falling back against the couch.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches as he watches you, his hands tight around the sticks as he thrusts them together, slow at first, then faster. And faster.

His greedy mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, wet and messy, the dirty, soppy sounds of his lips and the squelch of your pussy taking the drumsticks echoing in the room.

“Fuck,” you moan, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips buck into his mouth. “Gonna fucking cum, daddy. So—fuck, uhhhhh!”

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his lips wrapping around your swollen bud, sucking hard as he thrusts the drumsticks relentlessly into you. “Show that bitch who’s daddy’s girl, huh? Gonna cum on my tongue? On my drumsticks? ‘Cause only you can, huh baby? My fucking baby.”

Your whole body seizes at his words, your head snapping back as a strangled cry rips from your throat. Your vision blacks out, your body trembling violently as the orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, your walls clenching hard around the sticks as wetness gushes out, soaking his hand, his mouth, the couch beneath you. Jungkook groans loudly, his lips glued to your clit as he sucks you through it, his tongue flicking over the nub as you writhe beneath him.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Jungkook groans, his voice thick as he leans in for one last lick, dragging his tongue slowly up your pretty slit. He pulls back just enough to watch your pussy twitch, glistening and flushed, clenching around the sticks as you whimper weakly.

“Jungkookie,” you manage through trembling breaths, your body trembling under his heavy gaze. “Th-thank you, fuck.”

He hums against you, his big eyes darting up to meet yours as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Any fucking time, baby, shitt.”

You shudder as he finally eases the drumsticks out of you, slick dripping from the tips as your thighs twitch. You watch through hooded eyes as he raises them to his lips, sucking your wetness off, the hollow of his throat bobbing at the sweet taste. Once clean, he tosses them carelessly to the side, licking over his lips as his gaze drops back down to your wrecked cunt.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers trace over the sticky mess between your thighs.

Your eyes fall lower, catching the tip of his cock peeking out from the waistband of his briefs, red and dripping. Your breath catches, your hands instinctively sliding up his arms, tracing the ink there as your gaze stays locked on it.

Jungkook notices, his tongue running over his swollen lips as he chuckles. “You want it, baby?”

You swallow hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his through your lashes. “Please, daddy.”

He groans softly at the way you look at him, nodding before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s so wet, everything is wet as your lips part to welcome his tongue when he licks into your mouth, giving you every bit of the taste of yourself. You suck greedily on his tongue, and he groans low in his chest, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer.

Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him as he reaches down between you, adjusting his briefs and pulling himself free. He pulls back slightly to look down as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, catching on your clit.

“Need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he mutters, his voice rasping with need. “Need you to feel how much I fucking love you.”

Your breath hitches, your hands tightening around his neck as his words hang between you. His cock stills against your entrance once he realizes what he just said, his head snapping up.

“You love me?” you whisper, your voice quiet as your gaze flicks between his eyes.

He blinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. Then, with a soft nod, he admits it. "So much, baby."

You beam, your face breaking into the brightest smile, and it’s enough to make his chest swell. You tug him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a wet, giddy kiss.

His lips are soft against yours, but the way he kisses you is anything but. It’s raw as his tongue slides against yours, his hands tightening around your waist, pouring himself into you.“I love you, J. Holy shittt, baby!!”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as he smiles, his lips red and swollen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, so fucking giddy, your hands cradling his face as you lean up to kiss him again. “Now fuck me, please.”

He chuckles, the sound low and sweet before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brush against your skin as he shifts, lining himself back up with your entrance.

The moment he pushes in, your breath catches. The stretch burns so good as he sinks into you slowly, his cock thick and pulsing, the loud, slick sound of your arousal filling the room as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as his hands grip your thighs. “So fucking wet, baby. You fucking feel that?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the fullness. “So full, Jungkookie.”

He groans at the sound of his name, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a little harder this time. You gasp, your back arching into him as he sets a slow, deep pace, every thrust hitting you delicious and deep.

“So fucking good, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with praise. “So perfect for me. Take me so well, always.”

Your hands find his hair, tugging at the strands as your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity, his lips finding your skin, sucking at the flesh as his thrusts grow faster.

The wet sounds of your bodies moving together, the squelch of your pussy soaking him, his breathy groans and your desperate moans— they drown out every other thought.

“Fuck, Jungkookie,” you cry out, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Y-yes, yes, oh my goddd.”

He grunts low in his chest, his pace quickening as he chases your high, each thrust hitting your g-spot with reckless precision. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, his voice rough and wrecked, eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. “Cum for your boyfriend. C'mon. Show me how much you fucking love me.”

“Fuck, baby—fuck!” your voice breaks into a high-pitched whine, the sound desperate as your nails dig into the sweaty shirt stretched over his back. “Gonna fuckingg cummm, baby. God, fuck—fuck—”

You shatter around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a sore wave, your body shaking as your pussy clamps down on his cock. Jungkook groans, his lips finding yours to swallow your cries as his thrusts don’t relent, driving you through every pulse.

“Gonna take my cum, baby?” he grits out against your lips, your head tipping back as his breath fans over your sweaty skin. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, keeping you locked in place. “Huh? Gonna take it all ‘cause you love me so fucking much, yeah?”

“Y-yes, baby,” you sob, your body jerking from the oversensitivity as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. “I fucking love you, Jungkookie—please, give it to me. Give it, baby. Fucking give it!”

A deep, guttural curse spills from his lips as he stills, his cock buried deep as his release hits. Warmth floods your hole as he fills you, every drop making you whimper, your legs trembling around him. His forehead drops to your neck, his damp hair sticking to your skin as he pants heavily.

“God, I fucking love you,” he mutters, his voice thick as he presses his lips to your collarbone. “Never gonna get over saying that.”

“My sappy boyfriend,” you tease, your fingers threading through his sweaty hair, scratching softly at his scalp as he groans into your skin. “Who would’ve thought?”

Jungkook lifts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he gives you a look. You smile sweetly, dragging a finger across his swollen lips as you snicker. “I love you too, daddy.”

sorry for the delay, i was having a mental breakdown bites lips

2K notes · View notes