got a lil smt in the drafts based on taylor swifts 'so high school' đđ˝ââď¸
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triple trouble, atsumu miya
pairing atsumu miya x f!reader
word count 1.6k
synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons.
content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy
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The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of âMiya! Miya!â coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt â all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.
But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesnât appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human.Â
The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers heâs cradling in his arms.Â
All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their fatherâs natural color) poke out from Atsumuâs hold, and the eighteen-month-oldsâ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are.Â
After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didnât spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys werenât going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumuâs neck.Â
While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him.Â
A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.
âMiya, wife put you on babysitting duty?â A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.
âNah. Itâs not babysittinâ if theyâre your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.â A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd.Â
After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackalsâ setterâs arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. Theyâre all professionals â even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (âI respect Nakamura as a human beinâ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.â) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears.Â
âNakamura isnât a very good player, is he, Akihiko?â No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and itâs hard to remember that heâs insulting another player in the league whenever heâs practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it.Â
Akihiko, most likely due to his fatherâs influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him.Â
âWrite that down.â He says to the crowd. âEven my baby knows heâs shit at the game.âÂ
Thereâs a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumuâs neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumuâs reflexes kick in. Youâve made a joke once that you think Atsumuâs reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous âdad reflexesâ all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)
âYa gotta hang onto me, buddy.â Atsumu canât even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyamaâs, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu canât help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two.Â
Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts.Â
Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsuâs mischievous little face. Heâs the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most â meaning, heâs the cutest little nightmare there could ever be.Â
âWhatcha doinâ under the table, Mitsu?â Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. Heâs clapping his grubby hands together and cheering.Â
âDada found me!âÂ
âI did find ya, buddy.â Atsumu coos. âNow why donât you come sit on daddyâs lap?âÂ
After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him.Â
âI have enough time for one more question.â He tells the crowd.
âAre you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?âÂ
âIâm always happy to come home to [Name]. If thereâs a professional league for motherhood, sheâs going into the hall of fame. I donât know how she handles these fools by herself all day.âÂ
Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly.Â
âHome! Home!â His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumuâs received some serves with his face before, so it doesnât really phase him. âHome! Mama!âÂ
âWell, you heard the man.â Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. âWe gotta head home.â
Youâre applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. Itâs probably why you donât anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and youâre smiling as you ask your husband,Â
âHad a good day today?â
âWe took âem in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasnât even fair.â He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.
âIâm putting on moisturizer right now.â
âGreat. My lips are dry.â He goes in for another kiss, and even though youâre giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. âShould I go for seconds, just for good measure?â He teases.
âHmm, I guess so.âÂ
âOh? Whatâs with the change? Realize how much you canât live without my touch?â He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. Heâs fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin.Â
âMaybe.â You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. âYou know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?âÂ
âOh, yeah? Bet Nakamuraâs pissed.â Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept.Â
âNo. Thereâs actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.âÂ
You like it when Atsumu is thinking. Thereâs an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him.Â
âYou seriously donât know?â Youâre laughing at him, and itâs the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesnât take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew heâd do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if thatâs what it took.Â
You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited.Â
Heâs burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why donât you come sit on daddyâs lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it.Â
âThe comments are the best part, though, baby!â You havenât been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoffâs very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], iâd pop out triplets for him too tf đđ. Â
As Atsumuâs hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. âSo, when the twins are born, do you think youâll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?âÂ
âI can carry all of âem and you onto that stage.â He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.
âOh? If thatâs true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?âÂ
âHave I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I donât know what youâve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.â Heâs peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.
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i have an idea :]
ok so i always see people asking for gentle/needy/desperate choso. and i love it, butâŚ
what about unassumingly ruthless choso? reader doesnât know what sheâs getting into? reader is cocky and gets humbled FAST? idk i justâŚ
đđ
â¤ď¸ ŕťđ choso who puts his cute bratty gf in her place
warnings. fem! reader, attempted brat taming, doggystyle, big dick choso, unprotected.
youâve always been one to push his buttons, mainly because he always made it so easy.
choso was as intimidating as a kitten, whenever youâd tease him heâd always keep composure or restrain himself.
briefly smiling nervously, kissing your wrist and telling you to be a good girl and wait until you each return home.
but one day, he kind of just snapsâŚ
he takes you home from shopping nearly all day with you, and you were enthusiastically ecstatic. you wondered what heâd do this time, but your thoughts were no match for what he had initially planned. to put it brief, choso had you laid on the bed on all fours. heâs drilling ruthlessly into your pussy and youâre justâŚspeechless. chosoâs so handsy, every few seconds heâd spank your ass to hear you whine out his nameâin such two slutty syllables.
âc-choso..â youâd moan, the left side of your cheek attached practically to the silk bed sheets as if it was velcro.
âshh, no talkin, princess,â he grunts, and you could hear the slight whine picking up his voice before he stops himself. âi-i have to be more stern with you it seems. canât always be so nice, gotta humble you just a little bit, fuck.â
if it was a word to perfectly describe you right now, at this particular momentâŚit would for sure beâŚdumbfounded.
you couldnât see yourself but youâd bet money you looked stupid.
chosoâs dick was so lengthy, appetizing and hitting every spot with just the tiniest amount of pressures his thrusts had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek with your toes curling tightly.
âwhatâs the matter? no more attitude?â he huffs, tilting his head to move some remaining strands that were starting to occlude his vision.
âi-if youâre gonna be rough, at least go hââ
ââŚoh, baby, youâre jusâ asking for it by this point.â he murmurs, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm.
your eyes rolls at feeling the very tips the curve of chosoâs cock kiss against your folds. so deep, his thrusts were sloppy. purely responsible for the squelched that continuously sang throughout the room.
choso grabs onto both of your waist, and you moan once heâs just dragging your hips back and forth against him, making sure you feel every thick inch of his.
âdo me a favor ân arch your back more,â immensely, you doâyour body responds to choso with such a quickness it was simply humiliating. âgood girlâŚ.now,â and you barely recognize chosoâs voice. usually itâs so sweet and tender, now it was rough and a bit husky, a rasp hidden underneath each sentence he spoke.
needless to say, you found this version of choso to be quite hot.
âwait,â he pauses, pausing the mood with his own cute stammer in his voice, back to normal. ânot goin' to rough, am i? i want you to be comfortable and-â
âbaby, âm fine. keep fucking me please.â you pleaded, feeling his hips stutter as he was in the middle of talking. even trying to keep up a act, he still wanted to make sure you were okayâchoso simpers to himself, caressing your ass before spanking it yet another time.
âokay okay,â he hums. his hips pick up again and youâre basically being pounded into the bed. the grip he had on your hips wasnât too rough but just the perfect amount.
chosoâs breathing starts to pick up, and he enjoys the view of you more than he thought he would. his head goes back, along with his let down hair before he pivots his hips a certain way. your pussy clamped down against him and you hear his jaw clench in pleasure. ââŚshit.â
your legs quavered beneath him, and he then used a hand to bring both of your wrists behind your back. âj-just like that choso, please, please.â
âbaby, youâre not supposed to be praising me,â he pouts, and you giggle before moaning again â a sudden moment occurs where you thickly swallow, only to continue your sweet whimpers. âthis was s-supposed to be a punishment.â
âso punish me then.â you mewled, your cunt easily hugs him like a vice, the noise it makes, a wet pop and youâre just soaked. chosoâs ears grows hot from the feeling and he knows you can feel it too.
he sighs, shoving you further into the bed. âyouâre something else.â and his voice grows low and pitched againâyet choso does the unexpected. he leans right into you, and you instantaneously feel the heel of his foot press against the very back of your head.
he wore socks, the soft padded wool brushes against your neck, and heâs roughly driving into your pussy now to where you canât even saying anything.
all that came out of your dumb mouth was a squeal, this angleâŚ
âlet me have you,â he grunts, balls deep, his base was thick and repeatedly thwacked against your entrance. you were dizzyâŚdrunk, but not that kind of drunk. the good kind where all you could think about was how good you were getting stuffed by your boyfriendâs hefty cock. âyeah, just lie down and let meâfuck.â
youâre panting, and it felt so good.
choso was always used to being gentle and tender with you, although if you wanted him to be a little rougher, he was more than happy to oblige.
âi-iâm gonna cum, choso⌠gonna make me cum.â
âdonât think you deserve it, he utters, and your lips part, jaw dropping, plethora of sweetened moans only escaping as a subtle response. âyouâve been teasing me all day. even started to stroke me in the dressing room.â
âs-sorry.â you moaned.
choso remains with his foot near the back of your head before pursing his eyebrows together. âyouâre not sorry are you, baby? be honest.â
ânâno,â you whined, the thickness of his shaft twitching inside of you felt so heavenly. you could have sworn you felt a vein that ran down his length pulse inside of your tight cunt. âyouâre right, youâre right, âm not s-sorry.â
he chuckles. âyou could have just lied, you know?â
chosoâs angle and thrusts against you were so pivotal inside you, so astonishingly deep that not even moments later you end up cumming hard. leaving a ring around his base. your breathing was irregular and heavy, eyes half-lidded and just convulsing underneath him.
âmessy girl,â he whispers, pulling out, not even caring that he didnât finish, all that matters was that you did. choso turns you over before planting a kiss on your lipsâyou pull him in for another, and another, before you make him trample onto you. âdid you learn your lesson?â
âno,â you moaned, sitting up before lightly shoving him down on his back, straddling his lap now. âi want more.â
choso smirks, sliding a hand down your waist, fully disregarding his flustered face at seeing you attempt to take control. âof course you do, brat.â
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angels like you can't fly down here with me (i'm everything they say i would be), megumi fushiguro ;
pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader
word count 11kÂ
synopsis people like him don't get happy endings but megumi fushiguro (foolishly) considers himself to be the exception â after all, he has you.
content contains yakuza au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, attempted sa, minor violence & depictions of blood
author's note if ur on my ao3, you know this is from 2021!!! my writing has changed up since then, but i'm going to be releasing a revised version of this which will be rewritten and feature more scenes, more worldbuilding, more plot, relationship and character development, etc!! i figured releasing this on tumblr would help me gauge how worthwhile revision of this fic will be, so lmk if u like this au & want to see it become even better <3
Donât do it.
He repeats the command inside his head again, and then one more time for good measure. (And then another time, just to drive the point across.)
He wonât â canât; isnât really allowed to â get into (another!) fight.
(Well, thereâs a part of Megumi that knows that despite Gojoâs sing-songy warning of ânow, now, Megumi, I donât need a frequent visitorâs card for the principalâs officeâ, he doesnât actually care. All heâs really concerned about â if the mild interest the reckless teenager turned legal guardian shows can even be called that â is whether or not Megumi wins.
And he does.
Every. Single. Time.)
For the most part, Megumi Fushiguro is fairly stoic in general, but to a concerning degree when one accounts for the fact that heâs only ten years old. For the odd three or so years heâs been under Gojoâs wing, Megumiâs mask of disinterest stopped becoming a mask and started becoming a part of him.
(Try as he might, Gojoâs not nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Maybe the connection between them might have been stronger if Gojo was a bit more responsible and if he was actually present, but heâs got his own shit to deal with. Besides, Gojoâs under the impression that what heâs doing isnât cruel, but rather a means to an end. Megumiâs never going to be able to get stronger if he doesnât learn how to survive on his own.
After all, being alone and having to fight to survive is the life people like them live.)
The older preteens in the area have a bad habit of picking on the younger students. Because the elementary and middle schools are so close together, the younger students who have the misfortune of walking alone tend to be targets for bullies in need of pocket change or a good laugh. Most of the time, they get both.
As of late, everyoneâs favorite target happens to be Megumi Fushiguro, the boy with the messy black hair and indifferent attitude, even when confronted by boys two years his senior and almost a whole entire head taller than him.
Last week, Megumi gave the three older boys dumb enough to harass him for money bloody noses, bruised egos, and a thirst for revenge. That was the first (and supposed to be the last) time he got into a fight (for this school year, at least â something Gojo had told him, while winking). So, even when the trio is back together again, taunting him and trying to get him to take the first swing, Megumi keeps walking forward with his perpetual look of disinterest, those cold blue eyes of his staring straight at the path ahead of him, never paying any mind to the gangly bodies of the middle school boys who keep trying to block him from moving.
Donât do it.
He tells himself this once more. You donât want to have to inconvenience Gojo. Then, youâll be stuck listening to him pretend to lecture you. You donât like spending too much time with Gojo. Heâll make weird jokes.Â
The thought of having to deal with Gojoâs presence is enough to get Megumi to unclench his fists.
âMove.â
Itâs the first thing he says to the group since they started following him after school. He tells the boy with the brown hair this. The brunet seems to be their ringleader of sorts, and even as nothing more than a ten year old child, Megumi knows that being twelve/thirteen and harassing little kids for sport is a sign of patheticness that will only grow and fester into something darker unless someone beats some sense into them. Obviously, they didnât learn their lesson from last week.
âHuh? What the hell did ya just say, ya little brat?â The brown haired boy sneers, looking down at Megumi.
School has just let out, so there are dozens of kids of all ages walking down the sidewalk. Theyâre all aware of the situation happening, but everyone chooses to turn a blind eye to it. Partly because this is such a common occurrence that it just starts to become something that blends into the scenery, but also because there are some rumors surrounding the Fushiguro kid thatâs enough to make anyone with a heart of gold reluctant to come to his rescue.
The main rumor circulating around the school is that Megumi Fushiguro has ties to the yakuza. Granted, most kids his age have no idea what the yakuza is, and even those who somewhat know only know through exaggerated definitions from their older siblings. Generally, everyone just accepts the fact that the yakuza is bad, and by default, Megumi Fushiguro must be bad too. Older siblings tell their younger siblings to avoid âthat boyâ at all costs, unless they want to end up with a finger cut off. Megumiâs classmates huddle together and conveniently choose to look everywhere else but at him when on the playground.
For anyone else, this might have been enough to cause some hurt feelings. Everyone thinks the boy must be some type of stupid to be so oblivious to the rumors centered around him, but the truth is this: Megumi is well aware of what people whisper about behind his back; he just doesnât care enough to prove them wrong.
And theyâre not wrong, anyway.
(For some parts of the rumors, at least.)
Because itâs true â Megumi does have ties to the yakuza. His father, who he canât seem to attach neither a name nor a face to, must have done something bad. Something bad enough to have him cross paths with Satoru Gojo, the young head of the Gojo Clan, one of Tokyoâs most prominent crime families. Itâs the same Gojo who decided to adopt both Megumi and his stepsister, Tsumiki, despite having nothing (so far) to gain from it. After all, why would a teenager willingly assign himself the responsibilities of caring for small children â one who resembles the man that tried to kill him and the other being an ill little girl confined to a hospital bed for who knows how long. All Gojo gets from this deal is a headache, bills, and more problems than necessary.
Megumiâs not really sure how the rumors started in the first place. He thinks itâs because kids his age are easily influenced and have a tendency to run wild with their imaginations. With the rising popularity of gangs from the high school students, this interest seems to have trickled all the way down to the elementary levels. Megumi certainly fits the description of their idea of someone from the yakuza: silent, secretive, scary.
(If they were a little bit older, maybe they would have just seen him as an introvert.)
No matter how ridiculous the rumors get, though, it doesnât change the fact that the root of them is true: he is connected to the yakuza. After all, heâs being primed and prepped to be someone of value in the clan. Once youâre tied with the likes of them, you might as well just resign to the knot fateâs trapped you with. Heâs learned quickly that the only thing harder than getting into the yakuza is getting out.
And because his sisterâs and his life both depend on him doing as heâs told, getting out is a funny pipe dream at best and the Fushiguro siblingsâ cause of death at worst.
âI told you to move. Youâre blocking my way.â Megumiâs tone of voice betrays nothing. Annoyance, maybe, but he speaks flatly regardless of how heâs truly feeling. Gojo says itâs kinda creepy. Gojo also says that being a little creepy isnât bad.
(Gojo should know; heâs a certified creep in Megumiâs eyes.)
âOh â so the little boy can speak up.â The boy with blond hair laughs. Itâs a nasally sound that grates Megumiâs ears.
Heâs not an idiot. Megumi is well aware of the fact that no matter how much he feels like it isnât true, heâs still just a little ten year old boy. He should be playing with the toy cars Gojo bought him, not worrying about the gritty future that lies ahead. But still, the phrase rubs him the wrong way.
Little boy.
He wasnât so little when he kicked them down to his height before properly bashing their faces, now was he? Even now, he can feel the anger coming up. He clenches his fists, wondering if heâll get suspended for fighting right next to school property.
âLeave him alone.â
Another voice appears, but not from any of the boys. No â this time, itâs coming from a little girl on the sidewalk across from theirs. Everyone involved turns to stare at the source of such a command and are greeted with the sight of you with a Hello Kitty backpack. Youâve got a frown on your face that doesnât match the brightness of your pink outfit.
Megumi recognizes you instantly. Youâre in the same class as him. You were in the same class as him last year, too. He tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is youâre trying to accomplish here â and why.
He knows his social standing in the school. If heâs at the bottom, youâre right at the top. A beaming pillar of light, everyone flocks to you like moths after a flame. But youâre alone today, not surrounded by the usual crowd of boys and girls who are often vying for your attention. Seeing you alone enables him to see you more clearly, without all the distractions getting in his way.
Youâre small. Shorter than him, and way shorter than the middle school boys. Youâve got a bow in your hair and brand new shoes on your feet. If anybody should be socially aware, it has to be you. Those at the top, Megumi knows, like to remind everyone of their placement. You shouldnât be here. You should be ignoring him like heâs got the plague, just like everyone else.
All three of the boys start to laugh after sizing you up. The laughter only serves to make you even more irritated, but you canât speak because one of them is already talking through his laughs.
âDonât tell me. Is this your girlfriend?â
The group erupts into more laughter, and while Megumiâs expression remains the same as itâs been for the past few minutes, yours only shows your growing contempt.
âSheâs no one.â Megumi throws you an odd look, one of neither annoyance nor gratitude for trying to help him out. He uses your presence as a distraction, and he manages to take a few more steps before one of the boys is yanking him back by his bookbag.
âGrab her.â One of the boys says, and the third boy, the one with the messy red hair, starts to cross the street.
Megumi watches as you stay right where you are. Are you stupid? Why wonât you run? The boy still has a solid grip on his bookbag, keeping him in place. He wonders if itâll be a waste of his breath if he tells you to start running â you probably wouldnât listen to him anyway.
But then Megumi figures out why you donât look too frightened, because not even a second before the older boy manages to cross the street to your side of the sidewalk, a man in a suit is running towards you, a scowl on his face.
âYou said you were going to the restroom, young lady!â The man scolds you while panting for breath. He surveys the scene, looking at you, and then the middle school boy by your side before turning his head and seeing Megumi in between the other two boys. âWhatâs going on? Is everything alright? Did they do anything to you?â
âNo, Mr. Higashi. B-butââ Your bottom lip starts to tremble, and even though Higashi is certain that the tears about to fall are fake, the situation itself looks serious enough to the point where he doesnât call you out on it. âTh-these boys are being really mean.â You let out a high pitched wail that makes the boy let go of Megumiâs bookbag. âThey just threatened to attack me and my friend out of nowhere.â
âYour father will be informed.â Higashi frowns, eyeing the guilty boys who look confused and a little shocked at this turn of events. âMr. [Surname] certainly wonât be pleased to hear about this.â
The middle school boys pale when they hear the man name drop your familyâs surname.
After all, itâs the same last name thatâs engraved on plaques all over the school, thanking your family for the many donations theyâve received.
You enter into Megumiâs life that way: unexpectedly. He never thanked you for intervening, but itâs not like you did it for the thanks anyway. You did it, you tell him, because you figured he needed some help.
âI had it handled.â He tells you flatly. âWhy are you even sitting here? Your friends keep staring at us.â
Itâs true. Stories of what happened are already circulating around both schools, and while all your friends spent the whole entire day pestering you for the full story, you chose to keep quiet about the situation. And now, here you are, choosing to sit and eat lunch with Megumi, someone who also knows the true story of what went down but the only one people aren't brave enough to ask.
Your whole entire table of friends keep their heads huddled together as they go back and forth with each other, every one of them sparing glances at Megumiâs table. It makes the rice in his mouth taste stale. He should have just stayed in the classroom to eat, especially if he knew you would be bothering him.
âGee, is that any way to treat a friend?â You huff, not at all actually annoyed with him.
âWeâre not friends.â
âToo late. I told my dad we were.â
There has been one question on his mind ever since that incident. Just who exactly is your father? Heâs not stupid; he knows that you must come from a wealthy family. If the buildings and auditorium named after your family isnât enough proof, the fact that you always have the latest toys, the nicest shoes, the cutest stationery sets â thatâs material proof of a spoiled princess.
You continue speaking, and as if you can read his mind, youâre already answering his question. âMy daddyâs called a CEO. But the man you saw is Mr. Higashi. He takes care of me when dadâs away at work, and everything I do gets typed up in a report that dad sees every day. He wasnât happy about what happened, so he says the boys will get in trouble. He told us not to worry, though.â You have a pleased smile on your face, waiting for Megumi to say something in reply.
âOkay.â He says, after a while. He only spoke because it seemed like you were waiting for him to. âIt doesnât mean weâre friends.â
âWhatâs so wrong about being friends with me?â You tilt your head. Everyone wants to be friends with you. And thatâs before they even figure out that you live in a real life mansion with actual servants, and that sometimes youâre allowed to eat dessert for dinner. Even without the wealth, you still draw people in, whether it be with your bright smile or cheery attitude.
âDonât you already have enough friends?â He canât figure out what you could possibly want with him. Even though Gojoâs got the backing of the clan and enough funds to run the Tokyo underground with cash to spare, itâs not like Megumi is in a position to take advantage of it. Gojo hands him a thick wad of cash every week with a tip to âspend wisely, heheheheâ, and Megumi takes the tip to heart. A majority of the money sits saved in his bedroom, underneath a floorboard he spent a week trying to figure out how to loosen without anyone catching on. (Which was actually easy whenever he realized that nobody seems to really watch him to begin with.) So, he doesnât look like he has money, and isnât that what all rich kids want? To surround themselves with equally rich kids?
âI guess.â Your bubbly mood seems to dampen a bit at the mention of the other kids. They like you, sure. But they like each other a lot more. The gap between you and the other kids isnât noticeable at first, but the novelty of having an endless supply of company has lost its luster. Meanwhile, the glamor of your life only keeps the hoards of âfriendsâ to grow as the days go by. Itâs always âletâs have a sleepover at [Names]âs!â or â[Name], we have to go to your house because you have the best toys!â. You wonder if they like you, or the shiny things that they get when theyâre with you. âBut, itâs not like youhave any friends.â
âI donât need any.â The response is quick â instinctual. Gojo, even if not the greatest guardian by any parental standards, still presses Megumi to have a proper (or, as proper as it can be) childhood.
(âYou know, I donât care if you bring any friends over. Just make sure no one ends up accidentally getting shot, okay, Megumi?â
Yeah, because thatâs definitely gonna push him towards throwing as many parties as he wants.)
People in his position donât have many friends. Itâs hard to, he assumes, because of all the killings and betrayals and power plays.
(And, heâll soon learn that it hurts a lot less to lose an enemy than it does a friend.)
âHmm. Okay.â
But you donât get up from your seat, and he doesnât tell you to move.
The next day, youâre carrying two bento boxes. The lunches are prepared for you by world class chefs and everything is done in a rather cutesy manner to entice you into not wasting your food. The fruit is cut into pretty shapes, the food has picks with animals on them, and everything is colorful and to your own personal tastes.
You take a seat next to him once again. He looks up for a second, sees that itâs you, and returns back to his meal that looks pitiful in comparison. Leftover rice and some cold meat. You think itâs the same thing he had last time.
âFor you.â You slide the second bento you had requested towards him before opening up your own.
âWhatâs this for?â
âFor you to eat, silly.â
â...How much?â
âHuh? All of it, I guess? If you donât like something, tell me, and Iâll request something different tomorrow.â You donât quite understand what heâs asking you.
âNo. How much does it cost? I'll bring you the money tomorrow.â
âWhy would it cost you?â Now youâre really confused.
Didnât anyone ever teach you that everything comes attached with a price? If itâs not money you want, it must be something else. At least, if Megumiâs judgments are right. (And they usually are.)
âFushiguro, I brought you this because I want you to eat well and grow strong.â
He wonders what rice shaped like Hello Kitty has to do with his strength.
âAlso, so the next time people give you or me trouble, you can fight them, okay?â
Oh. So itâs protection you want. He contemplates what he thinks your request is before popping a piece of food into his mouth. A meal made with care â he can taste the thought thatâs been put into it. Shoving his old lunch to the side, he quickly starts eating at the one you brought him.
Okay. So maybe he does accept your offer.
âMeguuuumi.â You whine out his name, messing up the navy sheets of his bed while he sits at his desk, trying to finish his application for university. âIâm bored.â
âGood. Go to your own house then, and leave me alone.â
âYouâre so mean to me.â You sigh, turning your head so that half of your face is pressed against his pillow. The scent of his shampoo still sticks to the fabric, and you subconsciously inhale the scent some more. Itâs familiar and reminds you of him, your favorite person in the world.
No one believes you when you tell them that Megumi is your best friend. No one wants to believe that itâs true. After all, the two of you look more like a shoujo manga trope than an actual pair of best friends. The cold, inexpressive dark haired male lead with a secretive past he doesnât want anyone to know about and the bright, bubbly, ball of energy that is constantly clinging to his side. Itâs like looking at night and day with you two.
âAnd yet, youâre still always here.â
Youâre still by his side, even when the two of you reached middle school and high school together, and he spent a majority of his time starting (and finishing) fights.
(âGet off of him!â You screamed, yanking on the collar of one of the boys who happened to be trying to grab Megumi from behind. You donât have the same amount of strength as them, but everyone at this point knows who you are and who exactly your father is. No matter what the origin of the fight is wonât matter; all that matters is that the precious daughter of one of Tokyoâs richest CEOs got caught in it, and thatâs enough to get everyone involved into some deep shit.
Immediately, the boy scampers off, and the other boy Megumi was punching into the squeaky clean floors of the hallway begins to thrash around wildly, eyes wide at the sudden sight of you. Seeing you coming from behind Megumi is like watching the sun peek through a dozen storm clouds.
Megumi gives him one last punch, not nearly as satisfied as he thought he would be. Honestly, getting into fights with low level delinquents is beneath him. Itâs not just his knuckles and clothes that are getting dirty; by feeding into the schoolâs image that heâs this young, violent yakuza heir, heâs dirtying the prestige Gojo claims is oh so important.
âMegumi.â He straightens up at the sound of your voice, which usually sounds so sweet, especially when itâs directed towards him. Instead, you have an uncharacteristic frown on your face and you soundâŚÂ mad. âLetâs go.â
Youâve got a hand wrapped around his wrist, and people part when they spot the two of you making a hasty exit. The teachers arenât bold enough to cause a scene with you, and the students know both you and Megumi are practically untouchable â one being the spoiled brat daughter of a rich and powerful businessman, the other, a ticking time bomb with ties to the yakuza.
You donât stop walking until the two of you are in a secluded courtyard at the school. No one goes here, mainly because itâs in such an inconvenient location and thereâs nothing but trees and weeds over growing it. The two of you found it within your first week of being here, and ever since then, itâs become your designated spot to avoid prying eyes.
âI thought you were over stupid fights. You told me yourself that they werenât the type of people worth beating up.â You scold him, forcing him to take a seat on the bench that creaks under his weight. You make a noise as you inspect the drying blood on his knuckles.
If an outsider were to look at the scene before them, they would gape at the unbecoming sight of you on your knees, in between his legs, too close for a duo who claims to be âjust good friendsâ. But thereâs nothing inherently dirty in your thoughts. Instead, youâre staring thoughtfully at his hands, inspecting the minor damage done to them.
Megumi swallows hard as he looks down on you. He shouldnât be feeling like this â youâre his best friend, his only friend. The only person whoâs by his side. If you could read in his mind, thereâs no doubt that you would be recoiling away from him in disgustâŚ)
Youâre still by his side, even when he told you the truth about himself after waiting years to see if you were truly his friend or not.
(âThe rumorsââ He starts to say, but you shush him, rolling over on your side to face him. The two of you are lying on the grass in your massive backyard, trying to spot a shooting star thatâs supposed to be passing by at any second now.
âI donât care about that.â You tell him. Middle school was a bitch to deal with, mainly because as everyone was in the process of growing up and âmaturingâ, so did the rumors they spread. Now, the two of you are halfway through your first week of high school. A new school, a couple of new classmates, and new rumors surrounding the odd pair.
âIf I told you the rumors about me being someone you should avoid were true, would you be mad?â Heâs lying on his back, still staring up at the night sky. Heâs not turning to face you, almost as if heâs scared to look at you.
âYes.â You answer without any hesitation. âAt the person whoâs spreading that around.â You clarify, poking him on his side to lighten the somber mood heâs setting. âYouâre the only real friend Iâve had in forever, Megumi. I donât think what anyone says about you would change that.â
âWhat if I did something bad?â Like kill a person. What then? What would you think of him if he told you the full truth: that Gojo told him that he canât shield Megumi from the dirtier aspects of this type of life. That heâs spent hours after school, hours after hanging out with you and pretending to be a normal teenager, learning how to assemble, disassemble, and then reassemble a gun. That his target practice isnât glass bottles lined up in a row or sheets printed out with human bodies. What happens if he told you that his target practice was low level scum from rival yakuza clans that Gojo couldnât be bothered to kill himself?
âMmm. How bad are we talking? Like, lied to me when you said my Christmas outfit looked good but half my ass was practically exposed bad or committing a felony bad?â
âWhat if I told you⌠that I really was a yakuza heir.â
The silence is palpable and especially soul crushing to Megumi as he waits for your reply.
âIt wouldnât matter to me, Megumi.â You say. You know that this isnât just some type of hypothetical question heâs asking for fun. From his odd living situation to the intense nature of him in general to the fact that he knows practically everything about you, but you barely know the full extent of his childhood traumas despite growing up alongside him, you know deep in your heart that there has to be something going on with him. Something dark enough to harbor stories about him.
âAre you sure about that?â
You reach for his hand in the dark, finding it without really needing to look. Heâs not one thatâs prone to initiating physical contact, but you found out that he doesnât really mind when you reach for him first.
âYou canât get rid of me, no matter how crazy or fucked up you think your life is.â You squeeze his hand, still staring at him.
You donât notice the shooting star flying past the night sky, but Megumi is looking right at it. He knows what heâs wishing for.
For your words to be true.)
Youâre still by his side, even when he brought you to his sisterâs bedside. Sheâs sick, afflicted with something no one knows, not even the private doctors that Gojoâs spent millions on. She was still conscious, albeit confined to her bed when the two of you first met, but sheâs been in a coma ever since the last year of middle school. You were by his side as he broke down about the news. It was the first time youâve ever seen him cry.
So, no matter how much it may seem like heâs pushing you away, you donât budge. For someone smaller than him and definitely weaker, youâre awfully resilient. And while people make the occasional joke, telling you to âblink twice if you need helpâ, you donât pay any attention to them. If only they knew the truth: that youâve got Megumi Fushiguro, heir to a massive yakuza clan, wrapped around your dainty finger.
Heâs so whipped that he found himself asking Gojo for a rare favor.
(âCollege?â Gojo rubs the back of his neck, staring at Megumi. âI mean, I guess itâll be good for you. Meet a wild party girl, take her to your dorm room, tame herââ
âAn education is the whole point of attending, you know.â Megumi interrupts him before Gojo can jump into a story highlighting all of his sexual endeavors with college girls back in the day.
âEh. I guess.â But then a grin lights up the feature of the man who [kind of/by definition] raised him. âBut yâknow what I know for a fact.â He wiggles his eyebrows, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tilts his head downwards. âYou wanna follow [Name].â)
It doesnât really matter if heâs not good enough to get into the university youâve already received an early acceptance for. Because Gojo tries to make up for being an absent father figure, he fills in those empty spaces with cold, hard cash. All it takes is one nice donation, and Megumiâs wherever he wants to be.
Where he wants to be, he realizes, is to be by your side. Wherever you go, heâll gladly follow. Funnily enough, despite the two vastly different backgrounds the both of you come from, you both have similar means of getting what you want.
Your father had already looked over the list of universities you had in mind, and all you could do was excitedly squeal and start rambling the moment the acceptance letters came in the mail. Despite the fact that your fatherâs physically absent from your life most of the time, he still tries to show he cares in the things he does for you. If paying off over half a dozen major universities in order to make you happy is something he has to do, heâll do it without batting an eye.
Itâs the same thing on Megumiâs end. Granted, Gojoâs means are more along the lines of using money as a lubricant and then death as an inevitable. Money talks, a gunshot to the head silences. Nobody can accuse anyone of taking bribes if said accused person is in a grave six feet under.
Sometimes, Megumi wonders how youâre just so oblivious to the fortunate circumstances in your life. You chalk up a lot of your fatherâs wishes as just âgood luckâ. In school, youâre placed on a pedestal, revered as some goddess-like, otherworldly being. People are practically tripping over themselves, running towards you for a crumb of your attention. Anyone sane would gladly wield this power and use it for all its worth. Not you, though. Not you, whoâs kind and considerate and completely clean from the corruptness that plagues everyone else.
Megumi knows good and well that heâs not a hero â couldnât be farther from it, if heâs being honest. He doesnât feel a moral obligation to go out and rid the world of all evil. (Itâd be hypocritical, he thinks, considering the fact that heâs most likely belonging under the evil category himself.) From a young age, heâs already known and come to terms with his fate. Heâs going to train and learn from the best, and eventually, he will succeed as head of the clan. That is his purpose. That right there is the reason why heâs still alive today. That is why he can find himself sitting at his desk, submitting an application thatâs already guaranteed to be followed up with an acceptance letter, ready to pretend for four more years that heâs normal.
âDâyou think college will be fun?â You ask him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.
âNo.â
You laugh at that. You like Megumi for a lot of reasons, and his honesty is one of them. Despite the fact that he likes to keep most of the darker details of his life to himself, you know that he would never lie to you. In a world full of people who are constantly lying, it gets tiring trying to figure out whoâs real and whoâs fake. It doesnât help that you want to believe in everyone either. If you didnât have Megumi loyally staying by your side all this time, you doubt you would have made it this far in your life without anyone taking advantage of you and your kindness.
âMy dad said I can finally get a boyfriend when I go to college.â You say this fact so casually that Megumi almost â almost â gets fooled into believing that this is not a cause for concern. Almost.
âOh.â Heâs at a loss for words. He knows that itâs inevitable; that one day, youâll find a guy you like and want to get closer to him. He knows that youâre not always going to be by his side, and he knows that itâs going to happen because heâll have to push you away eventually. The older he gets, the deeper heâs burying himself into his grave. He doesnât want you to get caught in the crossfire.
Itâs not like boys have never tried approaching you before. People have spent years thinking that you and Megumi were a couple, and then after finding out from you that the two of you are nothing more than âbest friendsâ, boys were still hesitant to talk to you. The glare Megumi would give them from behind your shoulder acted as a strong enough deterrent.
âI know. Now the only problem is finding a guy whoâll actually wanna date me.â
âThey all will.â The words leave his mouth faster than he can even think about them. Heâs not wrong, though. Every time the two of you are out in public together, he sees people shooting quick glances at you, at your ass, at your bright smile. The looks they give are predatory, dangerous, even. If itâs not your looks, itâs your shining personality that draws them all in. And if thatâs not good enough, thereâs always the enormous wealth attached to your last name. Thatâs the key to getting them to stay.
âYou can be so sweet sometimes, you know that?â You giggle, glad that heâs still typing away on his laptop. If he were to look at you right now, he would see that youâre reacting way too positively to such a lackluster compliment. Itâs not like he listed reasons on why anyone would ever want to date you, so he probably could just be complimenting you to make you happy.
(Thatâs just the excuse youâre going with. You know your best friend â that means you know that he would never say something he doesnât truly think or believe.)
Thereâs a secret youâve been keeping from him. A secret so big that you think you mightâve been keeping it from yourself, too. Something so big that your body simply canât contain it any longer.
You like Megumi.Â
Of course you do. You keep telling the whole world what great friends the two of you are. You talk to him about your dad all the time (which must mean heâs important, because you rarely get to speak to your dad, so you have to choose your topics of conversation wiseley). You trust him more than you trust yourself. Ever since middle school, youâve been telling yourself that you liking Megumi isnât anything to be ashamed or confused about. You like him because heâs your friend, and youâre supposed to like your friends.
And then you came to terms with the fact that you like Megumi beyond the borders of friendship.
It starts with you seeing him the way other girls must see him. Youâre not blind, you know. Itâs obvious that Megumi is far from ugly. If he wasnât so intimidating, youâre sure he would have had his fair share of confessions, too. Megumiâs pretty, although calling him a pretty boy wouldnât do his character justice. Heâs got lashes people pay extensions for theirs to look like, and the prettiest dark blue eyes youâve ever seen, and his hair, which he doesnât put forth any type of effort in, always looks good whereas the same hairstyle would look messy on anyone else.
Itâs not just his looks, though. Even if you look like the type of person who would judge others based on such shallow standards, you didnât approach Megumi simply because heâs attractive. HeâsâŚÂ interesting. Heâs got this reputation for being a delinquent, and maybe all the fights on his school record prove it, but heâs surprisingly respectful. Heâs the type of guy who gets up from his seat to let an eldery woman have it. He loves animals. Heâs honest and sweet despite his seemingly stoic nature, and heâs so oblivious to just how good he is.
Maybe itâs because heâs so blinded by the light that is you. You, with your cutesy bento boxes that used to be made by your team of personal chefs but are now made with your own manicured hands. You, with that bright smile of yours that he wants to always see because god â he thinks he would be willing to destroy the whole world if something were to ever make you so upset. Youâre kind and beautiful and everything people write love songs about. Youâre so good, and heâs nothing like you.
Heâs nothing like you, because he highly doubts that you spend your time fantasizing about him like he does with you. Itâs wrong, he thinks. And dirty, and disgusting, and vile. Youâd hate him, heâs sure of it, if you knew what he thinks about late at night. That he sits on his bed with his cock pulled out from his shorts, leaking with precum as he strokes himself to the thought of you. Do you not see him as any other guy? Despite your lack of experience, surely you know just how dirty boysâ minds can be? Youâve got to be conscious of the fact that heâs any other guy, right? So, why â why â do you always roll around in his sheets, letting your sweet perfume stick to his sheets. Your tiny tops and skirts are always clinging tight to your body, and you never feel the need to readjust your clothing when it rides up. Do you not see him trying his hardest to look you in the eyes when the two of you are talking, despite the tantalizing sight of your skirt bunching up, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs?
Little does Megumi know (and if you have your way, heâll never find out), you spend nights in your room, whining and trying to stuff your cunt with the same fingers that painstakingly made him his lunch. Heâs your best friend since childhood. He looks at you like youâre an angel, and you donât want to destroy that image by revealing just how dirty you really are. How every time he gets so close to you, you subconsciously bring your thighs together, trying to rub them together in a poor attempt to relieve some tension. Heâd be disgusted with you, youâre sure of it. Maybe even betrayed.
Besides, it would never work out. Megumi doesnât see you the way you see him. He might look at you with a soft look youâve never seen him give anyone else, but thatâs because youâre his only friend. Itâs not like heâs harboring any hidden feelings for you, and just because youâre so convinced that thereâs no one better than Megumi around, it doesnât exactly mean that you wonât feel this way about anyone else.
Megumiâs got a rather monotone cadence with his voice, so youâre not too surprised by his seemingly unethusiatic response to you saying youâre now allowed to date. Still â thereâs a slight pang of disappointment when you realize that he doesnât sound jealous at the prospect of you dating someone else.
You decide right then and there that the healthiest thing to do now is to just bury your feelings for him deep inside your heart, to tightly pack in all those pesky feelings and store them away so you can make room to allow others to fill in his space.
gumi <3:Â where are you?
gumi <3:Â iâm feeling tired and i have an assignment due tomorrow. iâm going home.
gumi <3:Â you know i wouldnât leave without you. cmon [name]. letâs leave now
Megumi frowns at his phone. He can clearly see that all his messages are being delivered, not to mention that heâs already called you twice and has been sent to voicemail twice. He can be patient when he wants to be, but right now, heâs getting a little pissed.
You know that he doesnât like parties, and you know that he doesnât hang out with the same people you do. He also knows that you donât even really like most of the people you surround yourself with, so whyyou suddenly decided to do a 180 and reestablish your throne as the head of the social pyramid, he doesnât know.
Lately, things between the two of you have been a littleâŚÂ weird. Sometimes he catches you staring at him with a sad smile on your face; one that you immediately replace with your usual one when you realize heâs looking right at you. Despite him asking you if everythingâs okay, you vehemently deny that thereâs anything wrong, and youâre quick to change the subject.
He thinks heâs losing his best friend, his only friend. And maybe it only hurts because heâs grown used to your presence in his life. Maybe it hurts because youâre his friend. But he knows the truth. It hurts because heâs losing you.
Did he do something wrong? Did he accidentally somehow reveal the extent of his feelings for you? Did you suddenly decide that maybe associating with someone like him isnât something youâre meant for? Do youâŚ
Do you hate him now?
It doesnât matter. Maybe it does, but not right now. Right now, heâs more focused on getting the hell out of this stuffy ass living room, filled to the brim with drunken young adults and people he couldnât care less about. The only person that matters right now is you, and heâs on a mission to find your location.
Heâs got this ominous feeling in his gut, like something bad is about to happen. Heâs Megumi Fushiguro, for fuckâs sake, so bad things have a habit of following him wherever he goes. But still, heâs made a personal promise to himself that no matter how bad things get, youâll never get caught in the crossfire. Heâs willing to die to keep that vow.
If you donât reply to him, you most likely have a good reason. He doesnât want to be clingy, is pretty damn certain he doesnât even have a right to be, but heâs still worried about you. Heâs pushing past the wall of sweaty bodies, trying to catch a glimpse of your hair color, the waft of your perfume, the familiarity of your laugh, but he canât catch a single crumb of you anywhere.
Youâre nowhere in sight, and heâs immediately filled with dread.
He yanks a guy whoâs coming from upstairs.
âOw, man, what the fucââ
âIs anyone else up there?â Most of the time, the parties are restricted to just the first floor, with the unspoken rule being that only the upstairs should be used for people trying to fuck or to use the bathroom (or, people trying to use the bathroom to fuck). Youâre not anywhere downstairs, and if you were simply using the restroom, you would have been back down here by now.
âShit, I donât fucking know.â The guy squints at Megumi, as if trying to see if he knows him or not. With the way his expression pales, Megumi comes to the conclusion that the guy might not really know him, but he knows ofhim. Gojo says that with the right reputation, the two concepts are practically synonymous. âBut I heard a guy ân a girl, I think, walk past the bathroom. I donât know who, though!â
Megumi lets go of the boyâs shirt, and heâs quick to run off before Megumi can give him any more wrinkles in his shirt â or do something much worse.
Heâs thinking. Odds are, itâs probably not even you. With so many people roaming around this house, itâs likely that he just missed your presence. Your phone could have died, so that explains why he canât reach you.
He finds himself heading up the stairs anyway.
Itâs fine. He tells himself. Youâre fine. Youâre okay. Nobody would dare to touch a single hair on your head unless they want to suffer directly at the hands of Megumi. People around campus call him your guard dog, and itâs not necessarily a nickname he hates.
The atmosphere upstairs is vastly different from the one downstairs. There are no lights turned on, and all the doors to the rooms are closed. He hears a flush coming from one end, and out walks a tipsy girl whoâs staggering a bit. There are only so many doors to choose from, and he doesnât really want to accidentally walk in on two people trying to have sex, but the need to confirm your safety outweighs any possible embarrassment he may suffer from, so he continues on his mission.
The first two rooms are revealed to be empty, leaving just one more. Megumi takes a deep breath before trying to turn the handle.
Itâs locked.Â
His gut is telling him something isnât right, but heâs forcing himself to chalk it all up to paranoia. He curses under his breath, wondering why he even let you out of his sights for a single second.
Because he didnât want to seem clingy. Because he didnât want you to have any more reasons to keep on pushing him away.Â
He decides to call you one more time, and as heâs listening to the dial tone, he hears a faint sound coming from the other side of the locked door.
Itâs a phone ringing.
He presses his ear against the door, trying to make out any more sounds he possibly can. Is it still a coincidence when the phone stops ringing right as Megumi is greeted with your voicemail message of âsorry, I canât come to the phone right now, but you probably shouldâve just texted me!â
Without the annoying dial tone distracting him, Megumi can listen a little more clearly to whatâs going on. Thereâs⌠thereâs someone crying.
The voices are muffled, but he can make out bits and pieces of whatâs being said.
ââfuck up⌠crying like a damn bitch⌠want this.â
Heâs heard enough before heâs banging his shoulder against the door.
âOPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!â Heâs screaming, hitting it again. Thereâs a chance, the voice of reason inside of him is saying, that itâs not you thatâs crying behind that door. Even if it wasnât, Megumi still wouldnât have stood by idly. But instinct is telling him that it is you, and thatâs enough cause for him to bang his shoulder against the door once again. He hears a scream, and a male voice cursing.
The force of his body banding against it is enough to have the door really test the strength of its lock. Megumiâs never been the bulkiest person in the world, but heâs still got some defined muscle to him. The door is creaking, almost bending to his will, but he fumbles in the dark for the gun safely tucked away by his side.
Itâs a gift from Gojo. To speed up the process when something needs to be done quick is what Gojo said it was for. Heâs never used it in such close proximity to you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
No silencer. He forgot the fucking silencer. With the deep bass rumbling from the speakers, he doubts anyone would be able to hear the gun go off anyway. He aims for the handle, pulling back the safety, and fires once, then twice. With a foot aimed at the door, he kicks at it, pleased to see the way the abused door finally bends to his will.
The open door reveals a scene that makes Megumi see red: you, with tear stained cheeks and your clothes bunched up and strewn across the floor with a guy Megumi vaguely recognizes as someone sharing the same Econ class as the two of you â Mahito.
âYou fucking bastard.â Megumi practically lunges forward, tossing his gun to the side. He doesnât see reason, is numb to common sense at this moment. All he feels is the need to hurt this fucker. To make him bleed, to have him on the brink of death, to see the light of life leave his dark eyes.
Mahito is fast, but even he couldnât imagine the speed that Megumi would possess when pushed to the edge. This is different from the fights youâve witnessed during school. This is something entirelydifferent.
The first punch has Mahito wincing in pain. The second, third, and fourth ones are thrown back to back, and thereâs no time given to recover, no chance to gain the upper hand. Heâs falling down, and Megumiâs on top of him, drawing back his fist only to slam it against him again and againand again.
Megumi knows heâs got something fucked up inside of his head â what other explanation is there to reason with why he finds this bloody violence so satisfying? His knuckles are bloody, and he canât tell where Mahitoâs blood starts and where his own ends. Thereâs a wild grin on his face, one that youâve never seen before. Youâre not sure if itâs a trick of the shadows, but the feral expression on Megumiâs face transforms him from your loyal best friend to something monstrous.
ââGumi, st-stop.â The words stumble out of your mouth as hiccups, but you donât miss the way Megumiâs raised arm freezes in its higher position before he slowly brings it back down to his side. Heâs breathing deeply, and all is silent in the room.
As if the sound of your cries is enough to snap him out of his daze, itâs almost scary how fast his mood shifts. Just a second ago, he was hellbent on beating Mahito to a bloody pulp, and now the darkness drowning those blue eyes of his is practically gone. He makes his way to the bed, each step hurried but still hesitant. Do you even want to be near him right now?Â
You answer his question with some more small sobs. ââGumi, Iââ
âShh, itâs okay, [Name].â Heâs picking up your clothes from the floor, ready to help you get dressed. âEverythingâs going to be okay.â
âMegumi.â His name seems to be the only thing youâre capable of saying right now. After he helps you get dressed, heâs thrown off guard when you cling to him, with your arms wrapped around his neck and your wet cheeks pressed against his shoulder.
The moment the two of you are exiting the room, both of you far too wrapped up with the other to pay him any mind, Mahito lets out a laugh before groaning at the pain Megumi inflicted.
The two of you donât know what you just started, but no worries â Mahito has the means of ending it.
Itâs only a matter of time.
Youâre too good to be true.
You wonât listen to him when he tells you this (you never do), but he swears youâre a fucking angel or something otherwordly. Thereâs no other possible explanation for just how breathtakingly beautiful you are, or how youâre the only thing consuming his every thought. Despite the fact that all the blood on his hands has reached an amount that heâs sure heâll never truly be able to wash it all off, you donât shy away from his touch. As a matter of fact, it seems like youâre keening for it.
ââGumi.â You mewl out, sticking out your tongue to lap at the precum on Megumiâs thumb.
Youâre well aware of just how dangerous your boyfriend (the title makes you giddy every time you refer to him as that) is, but you know him. You know that the hands of a killer are the hands of your lover, and most of the time, you have a hard time believing the awful things heâs had to do with them. Because right now, those hands that are meant to be weapons are handling you with care, touching you so gently, you would have thought you were made of glass and ready to shatter.
âLook at you, all spread out for me. What happened to my precious, shy little girl, huh?â He removes the hand that was cradling your face back to his cock, stroking his length, the saliva from your tongue acting as a minor lubricant. The first time he fucked you was the first time youâve ever had sex with anyone ever, and it had been the start of an addiction. You love Megumi. You love everything about him, from his character to his tenacity, all the way down to his cock, with its red tip thatâs sticky with pre and leaking out more as he stares down at the obscene position youâre in.
Your face feels warm as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of love and lust that you donât think youâll ever get used to being on the receiving end of.
âNeed you, need you so bad, please, âGumiââ Youâre staring up at him, giving him your best doe eyes.
âFuck.â Just the sight of you beneath him, completely bending to his will, whining out for him to pretty please fuck you has him ready to cum right on the fucking spot. Heâs pressing the tip in, his breathing faltering just the slightest as the warmth you provide envelopes the most sensitive part of him, nearly causing him to lose all self control right then and there.
You let out a cry as he pushes himself deeper in you, making himself at home in your gummy walls, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding onto the headboard.
âYou feel so good for me, baby, shit.â He hisses, waiting for you to adjust, impatient but willing to bear it if it means itâll feel better for you in the long run. After all, thereâs nothing he wouldnât do, nothing he wouldnât endure, just to ensure your happiness.
âMm â ah â please.â There are still tears welling up in your eyes â precious girl, he hasnât even began to properly fuck you, and youâre already tearing up? The sight of you completely and willingly at his mercy is enough to get him to start rutting his hips against yours, the satisfying sound of skin slapping against skin resounding and bouncing against the walls of his bedroom that is starting to feel more like the both of yours.
âYâfeel so fuckinâ good for me, baby.â He groans, his pace quickening, the thrusts getting sharper and rougher with every roll of his hips. Youâre powerless against his strength, and this type of easy submission feels so natural, feels so good, when itâs him thatâs taking advantage of it. âYouâve got the sweetest pussy, yâknow that?  I could fuck you forever.â
His praise goes through one ear and out the other with you, but your heart swells up to twice its size. Even if you canât focus on the words all too clearly, youâre still aware that Megumiâs probably praising you. You can come to this conclusion because heâs always praising you. Heâs always so sweet, so gentle, so loving â when it comes to you, that is.
âHng â daddy!â You canât help but let out a high pitched moan as he hits that sweet spot inside of you that makes you buck your hips up.
Thereâs no way you donât know what youâre doing. Clenching around his cock like that, making those cute little noises that he canât help but want to hear all the time, and then calling him that.
âDaddy, daddy, daddy.âÂ
Forget igniting something within him; you whining for him, calling him something thatâs the root cause of all his childhood traumas⌠Thatâs like dousing him with gasoline and tossing a lighter at him. Heâs going to burn through all his energy, channel all this dark, feral energy, and use you as the one unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end.
He fucks into you so deeply that if your eyes werenât shut tight, thereâs no doubt that you wouldnât see the unmistakable shape of his cock outlined against your tummy. The headboard is banging against the wall, and the squelching sounds of him roughly thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt is so lewd and so dirty that if you had any room to harbor a single ounce of shame, you would be downright embarrassed.
âHow about you make me a daddy, huh? How about I fuck a baby in you?â He wonât lie and say itâs not something thatâs never crossed his mind. The thought of your stomach round with a life the two of you created is enough to get him to continue with this near-brutal pace heâs set forth. âDoesnât it sound nice, baby? My baby giving me a baby, whatââ He grits his teeth as you tighten up. ââa fucking dream.â
âBaby. Wanna have your babies.â You cry out, tears spilling out and wetting your cheeks as your arms find their way to his neck and broad shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. The heat building up from within you feels like youâre about to fucking explode. ââGumi, I love you, Iloveyoupleasegimmeababyâ'' Your words are practically unintelligible as you slur them out, the words sticking together as you cum all over his cock, all that pleasure that has been building up now physically tangible, if the white ring encasing his cock every time he pulls out is evidence.
âFuck! You feel so fucking good. Always so fuckinâ tight.â Heâs reaching his own end, and youâre just lying there, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm but unable to as your too sensitive walls clench around the constant intrusion of his cock. Spurred by your little love confession and his mind imagining his daydreams coming true â you, as his cute little housewife, taking care of the kids the two of you made together â he finally shoves himself as deep as he physically can, making sure that as he cums, nothing will spill out.
ââGumi.â You whisper, your head resting against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. âDid you mean it when you said you wanted to start a family?â
Heâs silent for a minute.
âI wouldnât mind starting a family with you.â And he means it. He knows this life isnât one meant for children â look at how he turned out, for godâs sake â but he thinks that for you, he can do anything. Even make a family work out. As long as itâs what you want, he doesnât mind how hard it may be.
You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. âGood.â You mumble. âI wanna start a family with you, too.â
Megumi feelsâŚÂ at peace. Like heâs got the whole entire world in the palm of his hands. He wraps his arms around you, and realizes that no â right now, heâs got his world right in his arms.
Mahito likes to play with his food before he devours them whole.
Humans are just soâŚÂ vulnerable. Even the coldest people have a heart; itâs only a matter of whether or not they find someone warm enough to defrost it. Megumi Fushiguro, for example, likes to walk around this world, acting indifferent and claiming to follow his own moral conduct, only to give himself the biggest weakness he could possibly harbor: you.
He still remembers that party. He still remembers the way you were dressed like a little slut, completely oblivious (or maybe you were just acting coy) to the wolfish stares all the guys were giving you. He had the same class as you. Seen the way you clung to Gojoâs charity case, as if the ground would swallow Megumi whole if you let go of him. Youâre cute, and you scream naive virgin, and thatâs precisely why Mahito wanted to take you to that bedroom and have his way with you.
And then, your infamous little guard dog bared his teeth and pummeled him into the hardwood of a strangerâs bedroom floor.
Grudges are cancerous. If you donât deal with it right away, it develops into something worse. It takes over all your internal organs, ruining you âtil the only thing you can focus on is getting revenge. And the longer you wait, the more vengeful you get. It doesnât become a matter of ruined pride or reestablishing honor â it becomes about inflicting the most pain one possibly can. It becomes about suffering â about transferring your pain, your anguish, onto someone else.
Mahito isnât the type to hold grudges, but for Megumi, heâll make a special exception. He wants to see just how well trained the boy is; after all, heâs been taken under the wing and supervision of Satoru Gojo, the myth himself. Surely, his student must be nearly as skilled, right?
Itâs been a long game of watching and waiting on Mahitoâs end. A lot of lurking in the shadows and gathering intel. Itâs a lot more boring than he anticipated, but todayâs the day where all his hard work finally comes to fruition. Megumi Fushiguro is going to regret ever interfering with him that one fateful night. The burning humiliation heâs felt has long since fizzled out, but since heâs already been set on the path of orchestrating Megumiâs destruction, he figures it only makes sense to see it through. You only can let go of a grudge after you get your proper revenge.
Heâs been leaving Megumi all sort of taunting, teasing threats any chance he gets. Mahitoâs got nothing but disgraced yakuza members on his side; those who have committed acts vile enough to get them kicked out of what is essentially a group of criminals. He knows how to be twisted â hell, twisted might be the only thing he knows how to be.
Killing girls that resemble you and sending him the photos. Taking videos of you when youâre out in public alone. Leaving voicemails for Megumi, ones that leave him pale faced and unable to breathe as he listens to how Mahito wants to tortue you.
Megumiâs been on edge for the past few months, unable to explain to you why. Itâs why you donât understand why Megumi wonât let you go back to your car, even though you left your phone in there.
âIâll go. Or, we can go together.â
âYou have to wait for our coffee! And besides, I donât even know where I left my phone. It might not even be in the car, but youâll just waste your time searching for it if itâs not there.â
âSo then why do you have to go look for it?â
âBecause itâs my phone? Also, I reeeeeallly donât wanna have to wait for our coffee, so I figured looking for my phone in the car would kill some time.â You give him that sweet smile of yours that he loves so much before waving him goodbye. âIâll be back by the time our order is ready, pinky promise!â
At the end of the day, itâs all luck. Mahito realizes this as you happily skip out of the crowded cafe, headed towards your car to search for your phone. He doesnât know why youâre returning back to your car, doesnât even really care. All he knows and all he cares about is that youâre headed there alone. And while youâve been alone plenty of times, heâs never had an opportunity quite like this one. A chance to finally detonate the bomb thatâs been lying dormant underneath your car, ready to be activated at the press of a button. He couldâve killed you plenty of times already, but itâs not enough to merely murder you. He wants to make it a spectacle, sure, but he also only cares about one audience member watching:Â Megumi.
From where heâs hiding, blending in with the rest of the customers from the bakery across the street, heâs got a decent enough view of Megumi, whoâs sitting by the glass windows, watching you with furrowed brows as you unlock the car door.
Mahito canât help the cruel smile that spreads across his face as pushes the remote connected to the bomb.
Nobody expects to hear the loud, resounding boom of something exploding. The surrounding cars parked next to yours have their alarms going off like crazy; itâs nothing but high pitched, blaring noises blending together to create a disruptive harmony. People are screaming, someone is on the line with emergency services, andâ
âyour precious car is set aflame, reduced to a burning pile of scrap metal no salvage yard will take.
In this moment, Megumi Fushiguroâs world crumbles to ashes.
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hey y'all are there any osamu miya girlies out there cuz I have something planned for him đť
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i need gojoâs balls in my mouth so bad
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NSFW - MDNI. cw: dacryphilia. self ship coded. gojo x f!reader. reader is a crier (couldn't be me....*looks away from camera insecurely*) gojo loves a crier he's sadist this isn't a new agenda but im still pushing it... | divider by cafekitsune, wc 1.3k
âAnd you know what he said to me? âYou need to try harder.â He actually told me, to my face, that I need to do more.â
Whatever was discussed today has clearly upset her, Satoru thinks to himself while laying on his back next to you on the floor of your bedroom, his hands folded beneath his head. Any criticism of you is rare and depending on how harsh it is, you react poorly. This is something he has learned many times over, coming to see you more than once to find you pouting about being less than perfection in someone elseâs eyes thanks to the high standards you hold yourself to.Â
If heâs honest though, his mind is barely focused on the comforting part of his âsometimes boyfriendâ duties. Heâs more interested in how you look right now, his head turned to see your chest heave with little petulant sobs and your palms pressed against your warm cheeks. The physical manifestations of your frustration look like glitter trailing down your face in the evening light, leaving the tips of your fingers glistening and wet while you wipe them away. Without thinking, he reaches across your body and moves your hands, wiping away what you couldnât get with his thumb.
âI could trap him in the void if that would make you feel better?â
A giggle followed by another sob bubbles out of you and Gojo feels pinned to the ground, the weight of his own desire for you in this vulnerable state borderline frustrating. Seeing your girlfriend cry and sob and whine should not make you hard yet here he is, tip of his dick begging to press against the seam of his sweatpants.Â
âNo, itâs okay. Iâm just being a baby.â
You are, but youâre his baby and he will not stand for you crying over someone or something else. Heâll just have to give you something to cry about instead, unable to hold back any longer, simmering desire turning into something bubbling over.
âHey, look at meâ
Rolling from his back onto all fours, his knees touch the carpeted floor and his palms are planted on either side of your head, framing your pretty face from his perspective. A shimmering tear trails over your cheek that leaves a wet trail behind it, your skin damp and dewy. The tip of your nose shines, your eyes are red rimmed, but Satoru finds it irresistible and always has. The reasons why arenât a mystery to him, given how badly he wants you regularly but the blood rushes from his cheeks downward to his cock more quickly than he anticipated when heâs faced with you like this - needy and ripe for his picking. Heâs half-hard thanks to nothing but the sight of your teary eyes. What an effect to have on someone who could bring the world to its knees if he were to wake up one morning and choose to do so.
âYou look so good like this,â he croons and you squirm beneath him, a poor attempt to free yourself from the weight of his gaze. Thereâs nowhere for you to run or hide. You canât play off his desire as a show when itâs just the two of you and he moves his knee to wedge it between your barely parted thighs.Â
Your palms press against his chest, legs kicking out pathetically around him. All it takes is a bend of his elbows and your chests are practically pressed together. Is it difficult to breathe because heâs so close or because you want him so badly? The tips of your noses touch and he dips his face, making you pucker in anticipation of his lips coming to claim a kiss from yours.Â
âSatoru,â you whine, mouth still half puckered in preparation for a kiss that doesnât appear to be coming. âWhat are you doing?â
This draws a laugh from him, his tongue darting out of his mouth to brush against your cheek and the side of your mouth. The tear that left at trail is gone, a salty taste across his tongue, his mind associating that taste with nothing but you. His cock jumps in response.
âItâs always Satoru this, Satoru that, ohhhhh Satoru!â He mocks you lightheartedly, tone jumping into something nasally in his best impression of your higher pitched voice, the one he hears when his fingers are pressing deep inside of you. âCanât I make you feel better like this too?â
Another tear falls from your eyes, following the same path as the one before it, settling in the cradle of your lips. Gojo leans down and kisses you on the mouth, tongue pressing against the seam of your lips to soak up every bit of the tear that remains. Your saliva mixes with his, your tears, the viscosities mixing into something more erotic than you could have imagined. Thin and sticky, just like the nectar that seeps from your cunt and drenches the cotton gusset of your panties that is wedged between your folds while you kiss him.
âJust let meâŚâ he breathes between your lips, tongue slipping against yours. Even his voice is higher than usual, laced with desire and need you do not understand and are not about to question. âLet me do this.â
You hope he realizes that you arenât âlettingâ him do anything, mind spinning in dizzying circles with every tear that runs down your cheek and hits your lips that heâs quick to take for himself. This is just as enjoyable for you as it is for him, one of his hands moving from the side of your head downward to your hip, playing with the waistband of your shorts. Your hips cant upward and he smiles against your mouth, your neediness more obvious than ever while reaching to grasp the back of his neck and hold him against you. He stops you, the palm on your hip pressing your ass back down to the ground.Â
âHave any more for me?â Satoruâs chest heaves when he asks, breath leaving him in warm puffs that live and die against your mouth. âYouâre so pretty when you cry, baby, can you blame me?â
His tongue darts out again and he licks up anything that may have been neglected in his haste, the muscle running over the seam of your lips and the plushness of both lower and top. A moan, wet and breathy, leaves you and another round of fresh tears follow the path of the others before them. You want to argue with him, well aware of how you look with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, but your pussy aches and clit throbs in response to him. The words you want to say wouldnât make themselves appear even if you tried harder to find them than you are now.
âCome on baby, gimme some more.â His encouragement makes you sniffle and his hand sinks below the waistband of your shorts and panties, fingertips trailing downward until they press against the sticky cleft of your pussy. âJust a little more and then Iâll make it better, okay?â
Nodding, you glance up at him and the shine of unshed tears makes him growl low in his throat. His fingers spread your folds open beneath your clothing and wetness soaks his fingers, tongue searching your face for wetness that can match what he is feeling right now. The mix of tears and saliva and your arousal are too much and he cannot wait any longer, pressing his knee against your clothed mound.
âDonât stop crying for me,â he begs and you nod again, acquiescing to all of his requests as usual. You grind into the hardness of his knee and he chuckles, glad he followed his instincts to keep you here and like this, the kind of girl who will gladly cry and grind against a thigh if it means she feels better.Â
âIâll make you feel better,â he assures with a chant against your lips, words interrupted with the sounds of how insatiable for one another the two of you are, smacking and sliding and pants and moans.Â
As if you donât already.
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no shade to dem short women out there I love y'all but can I see some more works for us tall ladies đ
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I could fix him but I kinda like him a little murderous and psychotic tho
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me after putting my soul into a oneshot for it to get ten pity notes
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rewatching haikyu cuz I wanna write for it but I haven't touched the hq fandom since like 2020-2021
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always and forever , SATORU GOJO !
the one where you're gone and satoru is reminiscing.
pairings - satoru gojo x fem!reader
contents - angstttt!!! , hurt/little comfort , mentions of death , mentions of blood , satoru gojo is bad at feelings , maybe ooc gojo (??) , arguing , idk what else to add so lmk if I missed anything
w/c - ???
a/n - the highly requested part two to 'meant to be'. I didn't really know how to end this but I hope it turned out okay đ
masterlist , part one .
SATORU WAS ASKED the same question a lot. 'Is there anything you don't have?' He'd laugh this question off, give the person a cocky smirk and continue with his day. If he could, he'd give an entire list of things he doesn't have. Your name would be at the top of the list every time.
Satoru couldn't stand the atmosphere around jujutsu high now that you were gone. He used to sleep well knowing you were only a few rooms down peacefully sleeping, bundled in blankets and hugging whatever stuffed animal you had chosen out of your large collection that night.
Satoru always teased you about it, but that never stopped you from buying new ones. You had given him one of your favorite stuffed animals awhile back, and even though Satoru let out a laugh when you handed him the bear, he treated it with the utmost care simply because it was yours.
Before your room was emptied, Yaga allowed Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko to go through your belongings and take something to remember you by. Even if it was probably against the rules, he knew the four of you were close. The distant look in Satorus eyes said everything, and Satoru Gojo was never distant.
"Try to make it quick," Yaga said, patting Satoru on the shoulder as he walked out of the room. Your walls were littered with posters and polaroids, your nightstand had a book on it, your bed wasn't made, and everything felt so natural. Satoru knew that Suguru and Shoko would probably want some of your polaroids, so he only took the ones that had the two of you in them.
Your closet was still full of clothes. Extra uniforms because you always somehow ruined yours on missions, comfy clothes for when you weren't in your uniform, and the occasional t-shirt or pair of sweatpants that you had stolen from Satoru (He let you have them, but he always swore you took it simply because he liked being petty).
A part of him didn't want to take any of his stuff back, but he knew that if he didn't it'd probably be thrown away. Satoru went through your closet and grabbed anything that belonged to him, throwing it over his shoulder. When he was done, he turned around and strode towards your nightstand.
Satoru squatted down and opened the drawer to your nightstand and rummaged through it for a moment. There were notebooks that were mostly empty, and then sketchbooks filled to the brim with drawings. Satoru always saw you doodling whenever you got ahold of paper, and couldn't help but get curious. He would peer over your shoulder when you weren't paying attention and look at your little drawings.
He always thought it was cute how you'd keep a small notepad and a pen on you at all times just so you could draw. Whenever you and him would walk together to meet up with the others, you would occasionally stop to sketch the scenery.
"Why do you keep doing that?" Satoru questioned as he loomed next you, peeking curiously at what you were drawing. "Doing what?" You ask, glancing up at him for a moment before returning to your sketch. "You keep stopping to draw or whatever, why?" He asks again, this time a bit closer to you. "Well," You started, "It's easier than waiting until later when I don't remember all the details." You quickly explain, not caring to go into depth.
Satoru hummed and continued to watch you sketch. "I try to sketch out the base when I first see it, then make a better drawing later." You add as you glimpse at Satoru again. "Well hurry it up, we're gonna be late again." Satoru commented with a small smile, making you grin at him.
Satoru put down the notebook he was once skimming through, and grabbed one of your sketchbooks. He skimmed through it, most were of scenery, but there were a select few that caught his eye. There were a few drawings of Shoko and Suguru, and enough drawings of him that he couldn't count it on two hands.
Satoru blinked and a few tears he didn't know were welling up in his eyes fell onto the page. It was a drawing of him, it wasn't clear what he was doing in the drawing, but his face wasn't fully visible but from what he could see he looked focused. It was as if somebody snapped a photo of him and slapped it onto the page.
He cursed under his breath before picking up the notebook that he had put down earlier and placed it back inside your nightstand. After wiping his eyes, he closed the sketchbook in his hand and stared at it for a moment.
It wouldn't hurt to keep it.
Satoru took a deep breath as he stood up, taking in your scent one last time before exiting the room. Yaga was leaned against the wall, patiently waiting for Satoru to finish up. "What's with the clothes?" The teacher asked without thinking, slightly raising a brow in the process. "What do you think is with the clothes?" Satoru snapped, giving Yaga a look before trudging off to his quarters.
"Are you alright Satoru? You've been avoiding me and Shoko all day," Suguru voiced as he sauntered over to Satoru, who was sat under a large tree that was somewhat close to the school. "I'm fine, jus' been thinking, that's all." Satoru chirped back, sliding something into his pocket.
Satorus jacket was laying next to him, leaving him in his white button up. Suguru soundlessly made his way over to Satoru and sat down next to him, "Seriously, Satoru, what's up with you?" He asked gently, giving his friend a concerned look.
"I'm fine, Suguruâ" Satoru began before getting cut off by a scoff from his best friend. "No you're not, tell me what's been going on." Suguru said, his voice stern. "Don't push it!" Satoru snapped his head towards the man next to him, an evident scowl on his face. Suguru visibly flinched away from Satoru.
"Ever since Y/N, you've been an asshole to everyone." Suguru said as he stood up, "She wouldn't want this." Before Satoru knew it, he was on his feet and Sugurus collar was bunched in his hands.
"Don't you dare try to tell me what she would want! You don't know her like I do!" Satoru yelled, his grip on Sugurus collar tightening by the second. "You're right, I didn't know her like you did," Suguru says, somehow keeping his composure, "And maybe I don't know you like she knew you, but I do know that this isn't you." He says while gesturing to Satoru with his hands, making his grip loosen slightly.
"I know it must hurt, but you need to understand that the rest of us are grieving too. Don't be selfish." Suguru says, and Satoru hesitantly removes his grip on his collar. "Me? Selfish? It's like I'm the only one here who actually cares!" Satoru curses, throwing his arms into the air in frustration.
"Y/N died in my arms! I came back here covered in her blood! It's almost like I'm the only one who actually gives a shit around here! Ever since the news broke, you assholes have acted like everything's normal! Like everythings not fucking ruined now that she's gone!" Satoru yells, shoving Suguru away from him, "Don't you dare try to call me selfish, you weren't there, Suguru." Satoru breathes shakily before snatching his jacket off the ground and walking off, leaving his best friend stunned.
That was the first time since your death that Satoru openly admitted that you were gone. Out of touch, in a place where not even Satoru Gojo can reach you.
After the incident with Suguru, Satoru tries hard to make it seem like he's okay. Like he's slowly getting over you. Over your death. In truth? It felt like it was getting worse. Satoru didn't eat or sleep, and he didn't have the energy or stimulation that his cursed technique required to be at its full power.
To a stranger, you and Satoru were simply best friends. Two people that understood each other through and through, even if there were a lot of ups and downs. To people close to the two of you, you were the only people who didn't realize the feelings the other had, and it caused a lot of problems in your friendship.
To Satoru, you were like his emotional support person. Better yet, his person. You were there for him when Suguru or Shoko couldn't be, you witnessed (one too many) of his breakdowns, you knew Satoru like the back of your hand. You were his and he was yours, even if neither of you realized it. Losing you meant he had one less person to lean on when things went bad.
Maybe Satoru was a little selfish after all.
The more Satoru thought about it, the more he realized your death could have been prevented. They should've given you a partner, they should've sent him or Suguru with you. If he got there a little earlier, maybe he would have been able to save you.
Satoru knew he would have to learn death sometime in his life, but if he knew you would be the first lesson, he would've let himself die a long time ago if it meant he wouldn't have to suffer the loss of you.
Satoru stared blankly up at his ceiling, recalling moments that reminded him of you.
Him and Suguru were walking in town earlier that day, and he caught a whiff of the perfume you used to wear. He froze in place and turned to look at the woman who was wearing the familiar scent, images of you flashing quickly through his mind. After that small moment, it felt as if Satorus mood had deflated like a balloon for the rest of the day.
Then, Satoru had taken off his glasses for a few minutes while in a large crowd, and a splitting migraine quickly formed. He recalled that there were many times when you two would be on the subway together, and maybe he had forgotten his glasses that day. You would drape an arm over his shoulder and cover his eyes with your hand.
You knew that his six eyes became overwhelming at times, and when he forgot his glasses it was hard for him to not look like he was in pain. You would always remind him that he needed to keep them on him at all times, and even convinced him to buy an extra pair to keep inside the pockets of his uniform just in case.
"Satoru, you can't keep forgetting them," You'd say as you held your hand over his eyes. At first he'd flinch away, and you would apologize before taking your hand away from his face. Then it'd be Satoru apologizing and grabbing your hand to place it over his eyes again, his lips curving upwards slightly at your sweet gesture.
It would always be you, that was something Satoru embedded into his mind. Even when he's older and has students of his own. Even when he's the strongest jujustu sorcerer in the world and has many people after him. Even when he's beginning to forget your face and what it felt like to hold you.
It would always be you, whether he wanted it to be or not.
Š AAJXS
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Fighting for dominance w yuki đđ˝
â¤ď¸ ŕťđ trying to top yuki (you fail)
warnings. fem! reader, praise, doggy, dirty talk, she has a strap, petnames. mdni.
âoh. whatâs this, baby?â yuki whispers, her eyes flicker towards your hovering body. her stare made you swallow. her legs remained spread, and she had a cunning grin tugging against his lips. she eyed your figure up and down before raising a eyebrow once you lightly shove her back. âyouâre getting ahead of yourself. youâre gonna try to ride me?â
âyeah,â you utter, glancing down at her clear lengthy strapâyou were already prepped, just barely getting over your last release from her eating you out.
as she tilted her head towards the side with a cheeky smile, you could still see some of your own slick running down her chin. âyou donât think i can?â
she giggles. âsweetheart, i never said that,â and she runs a hand across her thigh, watching you prepare to align yourself against the plump tip. â. . . although,â she breaks, teasingly staring off in the other direction, still manspread with her arms now stretched across the sides of the mattress. âi dunno, you couldnât really take me if you tried. besides, you always end up tapping out.â
your eyes widen as you grew flustered before grumbling, âs-shut up.â
âaw. how âbout ya make me? otherwise iâll just keep talking, princess.â she snickers, softly tracing her fingers down your waist just to get a reaction out of you.
she had the smuggest grin smeared on her face, watching you start to sink down on the strap-on.
âdonât hurt yourself now,â she giggles, eyeing you the entire timeâyou bit down on your lip, trying to suppress as much mind as you could, and she only simpers wider. âwant me to hold your hand?â
ây-yuki,â you whined, putting a hand over her mouth. she playfully licks against your fingers, feeling you hover against the tipâyou moan, your pussy gripping around the faux material before you jerked into her inwards. âstop talking.â
ânot unless you make mââ
she gets cut off from the softness of your lips. you feel the smile still on his lips. she tastes sweet, candied even. yuki runs a hand down your hips as you gradually started to rut against her.
you ran your tongue against hers, tasting a tang of alcohol on her before you let off a whimper once she grips onto your ass.
sheâs panting the more you deepened the kiss, she found it cute and you trying to show a bit more dominanceâyet you were already failing. strands of her hair tickled against your skin the more your warm body heat made direct contact with hers.
the taste of her lip gloss had you hooked for more, the pure strawberry that resided against her lips. you moaned in your mouth before your hips started to pick up.
she briefly pulls away, a lustrous cobweb string of spit departing from your mouth and she stares at you.
âwhy canât you look at me, princess?â she hums, grabbing ahold of your chinâyou leer into her eyes before feeling butterflies swell in inside your tummy. she sneaks a wet kiss against your mouth as your hips rolled back and forth against her. âdo i make you nervous?â
âno.â you immensely replied, feeling the continuously expand through your walls. it felt so good, you couldnât help but moan all against her ear.
âno . . ?â she repeats, her tone was purely playful. yuki chuckles beside you before allowing her hands to roam all over your bodyâyou shudder from the warmth of her touch before she whispers against your ear. âiâm a lot of things, sweetheart but iâm not an idiot,â and then she brings you close towards her chest.
you lean into her touch, thighs of yours rubbing against hers solely from your jagged body movements and she kisses near the inner part of your neck.
âyouâre cute when you try to be all . . â and she pauses for a moment, thinking of the word before tittering. âdominate.â
she studies your face, and youâre pouting. âpretty girl. donât be so disappointed,â and she kisses you again â a quick kiss that never fails to leave you speechless everytime. âyou want me to finish for you, hm?â
you sheepishly nod, stopping yourself from moving against the toy buried inside of you before she smiles, stroking your left cheek.
âat least youâre finally honest, baby,â she whispers, matching your pout before a small chortle leaves her lips. âcâmon, letâs do this the right way, yeah?â
she was so gentleâyet you found yourself pressed against the cushioned pillows, maintaining a swift arch and she towers over you even while being on her knees. yuki rubs a hand against your ass, caressing it as your cheek squished against the couch. âhow do you want it, princess? tell me.â
âh-hard, yuki. jusâ make me cum.â you whined, not even caring anymore by this point.
âooh,â she purrs, watching your back just go forwardâyour ass remained up and you were craving for her to inside again. you swallowed the nonexistent lump in your throat before feeling her gently prod the fat tip of the toy against your frontage. âsay pretty please.â
you whine, wriggling your ass against the head part just for her to hurry up, âp-pretty please.â
âgood girl,â she hums, her words went straight towards your cunt. you throbbed vigorously, aching for more of her touch. it wasnât a want, it was a need. sheâs slow as she starts to make her way inside again.
yuki lets off a soft groan, feeling you clamp down with such ease. once your thighs tapped against hers, she kissed her teeth before starting up a pace. âthaaaatâs it, baby. let meâlet me take care of you.â
you moaned at the sweetness of her words, she was so deepâyour eyes rolled back within seconds of her only delivering a few thrusts. she was tame yet grabbed both of your hips, slowly making sure you felt every inch.
âfuck,â she utters, hearing the sloppy squelches of your pussy voice all against her. yukiâs breathing started to become a bit raspy, quiet but very much raspy.
she always kept her eyes on your ass, she could never look away. the mere shape of it . . .
she ran her fingers across it while sheâs fucking you dumb. such deep yet slow thorough strokes had you whining out her name loudly. she pulses from your words of pleasure everytime, but of course she never shows it.
this was all about you.
âyouâre so pretty like this,â she hisses, bringing a few spanks to your ass to watch it jiggleâyou whined, back arching a bit more for her and she playfully skims her hands down your spine to watch you jolt in pleasure. âhowâs it feel, princess? lemme guess should i go harder?â
âp-please,â you squeak out, your head just mashed against the pillows.
she giggles, softly reaching down against your clit to create even more stimulation, earning out a surprised whimper from you.
âi know my girl well,â and then you feel her start to quicken up her hips. sheâs reaching all the right spots, the angle was perfect. you felt the length of the toy continue to stretch out your pussy, leaving such a good taste in your mouth. âand to think you could have been topping me, hehe. we all start from somewhere, i guess.â
after a while you lost track of time, like most would.
you started to shake against her and she takes notice. yuki raises a brow before pressing all up against your ass, sheâs fully inside and you moan at the warmth of her going against you. âis someone gonna cum? that why ya keep tryinâ to grab onto my leg, sweetheartâ?â
the toy was so thick, your pussy made just as much noise as you did. cacophonies of mixed squelches that reverberated throughout the room. it felt so good . . . you clenched your jaw as you felt a hidden bundle of nerves make their way to stir you from the inside.
itâs a long pause as sheâs still fucking youâyou were a mess, strands of spit running down your mouth before she sings in a seductive tone, âwell . . ?â she rubs a thumb against your bare ass whilst watching it jerk and move against her before she mutters. âif you want somethinâ from me, you gotta use your words. go on.â
ââwanâ cum, yuki,â you sniffled, your core was being filled with such inches. your ears rang and you could taste the sweetened orgasm on your tongue practically. âwanna cum, please. please let me c-cum . . â
âgood,â she hums cooingly. each praise she gifted you made you throb ten times more. you feel her grab your ass, scooting it directly towards her before she huffs out a single breath. âgood girl. now give it to me, câmon. donât be shy. let go just for me, yeah.â
you moaned, feeling her pin your arms behind your back as sheâs thrusting in and out of you.
instantly, you felt your legs intensely shake from the incoming raptureâyou were simply dumb and close-mouthed. tongue tied even, your orgasm came crashing down on you and she watched as youâre just a mess, cute whines eliciting from your mouth.
your slick covered her faux base entirely, and she licks her lips while watching you ride it outâyou panted, feeling her hips come to a stop before seconds later, she slowly pulls out. âaw. youâre so loud, baby. i told you.â
words of silence departed from your lips before she flips you over, pulling you into a deep, loving kiss. yukiâs rough hands gently danced against your skin as she pulled you close, only before you moan into her mouth once you feel her squeeze against your soaked pussy.
âall mine,â she whispers, breaking away to speak before she kisses against the side of your lip to stare you right in the eyes with such a dominant look. âwhoâs pretty pussy does this belong to, sweetheart?â
âyours, yuki.â you moaned, feeling her chest prick against yoursâyou felt so hot, in a good way. a smile goes on her lips before she nips at your neck in a playful manner.
âgood girl, and itâll stay that way,â she teases, soft eyes lingering at you for a few good seconds before she brushes a thumb over your wet lips. she leans in as if sheâs about to kiss you again before she whispers against your lips. âunless you can ever prove me wrong, sweetheart.â
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HI OMG just wanted to say tysm lovely for the rb - it's my first!! ever!! one!! Appreciate it fr.
ofc!! your gojo oneshot was actually so good I hope it gets more attention đŤśđ˝
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The Call - G.S.
Synopsis. After an explosive fight with your boyfriend, you really should feel sorry about being swept up by the blue-eyed stranger at the club - but itâs so hard when he kisses you like that.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, background Naoya x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, Naoya gets cucked, Oggy & The Cockroaches cameo, NSFW, making out, cunnilingus, fingering, doggy, missionary, manhandling kinda, Satoru is taller, mentions of alcohol, pet names (doll, babe), oral sex (male + female receiving), Satoru is down BAD, cheating, I bully Naoya, car sex, overstimulation (male + female), swearing (Iâm a pottymouth, sorry), exhibitionism if you squint.
Word count. 6.6k (being stuck on a farm really does that to ya)
A/N. BONJOUR BABYGIRLS, FIRST POST KINDA NERVOUS?? Based on The Call by Backstreet Boys. Art by @_3aem on Twitter.
If you reblog, Iâll literally kiss you on the mouth (with your consent). <3
Cross-posted on AO3
âListen, baby, Iâm sorry.â
Heâll see the marks.
âJusâ wanna tell ya donât worry. I will be late, donât stay up and wait for me.â
Heâll know.Â
Good.
Long fingers trail higher and higher up your thigh.Â
Meeting his fiery cerulean gaze, the grip on your phone weakens - only one thought running through your mind right now.Â
Satoru wonât let you get out of this alive.
Shit. How the hell did you even get here?
Hitting the club on a random Thursday with your friends means youâd geared up for a dead dance floor and some old creeps youâd have to fight off.Â
Hey, it wasnât perfect - but at least it would get your mind off of That Bag of Dicks. And the fact that it was your two-year anniversary with him today. AND the fight that led you to furiously text your groupchat demanding a night out.Â
But, whatever, semantics.Â
What you certainly did not expect was the crowd to be dancing in an uproar, and one white-haired man to be in the middle of it all. The creeps were still there - as always - but what did it matter when his electric eyes caught yours across the dance floor. Mouth curving up in a teasing grin as he kept gaze locked with yours.
Beautiful.
Wait. Ugh. You really needed to get a hold of yourself.Â
Ripping your eyes away from this strangerâs, you check your phone - somewhat out of habit.Â
0 new notifications.Â
Well. Fuck it, you thought.
Downing your friendâs double shot, you mentally made a note to buy them a drink next time as you plunged into the dense crowd.Â
Fuck Naoya. Fuck his mind games. Fuck his stuffy, exclusive family dinners.
âŚ
And that uglyass e-boy hairstyle.
Maybe it was the Smirnoff, or maybe it was the music thrumming through your veins - all you knew was that the dancing bodies around you were magnetic, and you hadnât felt this good in a long time.Â
Yeah, this is exactly what you needed right now.
Youâre moving your hips to the beat in all the ways your boyfriend wouldnât appreciate. Running your hands over the top that stuck to you like a second skin.Â
And that was when it happened.Â
A hand grasps yours in midair.Â
Ew, what the fuck. Youâd barely formed that thought before youâre suddenly spun so that your back is pressed against the front ofâŚa wall? A wall wearing such alluring cologne.Â
No wait, thatâs a person. Holy shit they must be some sort of gym rat.
âHey, wanna dance on that table?â
You turn your head to snap at whoever this stranger speaking to you from behind is, partially impressed by his sheer audacity.Â
But whatever curse or shout at the tip of your tongue died down when you saw those eyes from before peering down at you. Except, now that you were closer - almost intimidatingly so - you could truly appreciate what a breathtaking man he was.Â
Ethereal white hair framing those incredibly blue eyes. And a small dimple at the corner of a grin, which moves as he cocks his head and leans down to repeat, âWanna dance on that table?â
Dammit, you might have been ogling him for too long.Â
The table in question was one fringing the dance floor, slightly battered from too much experience with drunk dancing. Yet, it didnât seem like it would break down anytime soon - and your phone was tragically empty of any concerned calls from your boyfriend soâŚwhatâs the worst that could happen?Â
â...Sure?â You answer, eyes still unmoving from his face.Â
At most youâd just dance till you forget today.
And before you knew it, both of his hands rested softly on your hips as he carefully steered you through the crowd from behind.Â
Upon reaching it, his long legs jump onto the table and he holds a hand out towards you - boyish mirth evident on his features and the surrounding crowd cheering in drunken camaraderie. Face slightly burning at the spectacle, you slide your hand once more into his grasp.
It should be illegal to be this good-looking and the life of the party.
This stranger had you belting out the lyrics of songs with almost-reckless abandon, hands ghosting your body as you two moved in sync. An unknown magnetism drawing you to each other like a moth to flame.Â
You were most definitely the flame, you thought, with the way his intense stare left your skin burning. You felt your heartbeat banging against your ribcage in symphony with the strobe lights above.
He was towering in front of you now. An arm wrapping around your waist, and the other gently pushing away the hair from your face. Close.
âIâm Gojo Satoru. You can jusâ call me Satoru, doll.â
A large hand caressing your cheek now.Â
âIâm-â
That was when you felt it. The incessant vibration in your skirt pocket that most definitely wasnât the pounding club music - your phone. And you knew who it was.Â
Shit, you lost track of everything.Â
â...taken.â
The smile on Gojoâs face falters for the first time as he makes a noise of confusion.
âIâm taken. Sorry. See you around.â
And with that, you untangle yourself from his arms and make your way back onto the ground, weaving through the crowd that had formed around the table due to your guysâ little show.Â
What the hell were you even thinking? Just because you were mad at your boyfriend doesnât mean you donât have one.
You look back and catch a glimpse of Gojoâs slight pout.Â
Cute.Â
But, your buzzing phone served as a reminder - now wasnât the time to forget yourself. You came here to dance your worries off, not cheat on your damn boyfriend! Maybe you really should check out that couples therapist your aunt recommendedâŚcouldnât be that expensive, could it?
A glance at your phone shows Naoyaâs string of texts. A couple cuss words, some accusations thrown here and there - none of them true, yet you felt guilty as you made your way to the bar.Â
He still didnât call, but itâs a start, right?
Upon grabbing a seat at the counter, your friends excitedly rush to hear the tea.Â
âOh my gosh, WHO was that hottie you were up there on the table with earlier?â, they gasp and crowd around you eagerly.Â
âSome guy named Gojo, but we just-â
One of your friends interrupts your explanation by tittering, âYou know I always told you to leave that asswipe, Naoya. Glad you finally decided to stand up, girl.âÂ
The rest of your group make noises of agreement as you sputter your excuses, âWhat- NO. I told him I was taken. Either way, I know Naoyaâs a dick but Iâd never cheat on him!âÂ
You werenât like that. I mean, he drives you mad but every couple has their moments, right?
âWell, are you sure you told him youâre taken?â
Your friendâs odd question makes you snap out of your little overthinking tirade, enough to turn to what the group was now looking at - or more like who.
Gojo was unmissable.Â
A cloud-like beauty with locks of white, standing a full head above everyone else. But what jarred you the most was the look in his eyes as they locked upon you, like a man dying of thirst spotting an oasis on his last breath.
Well, shit.
âNot really in the mood to watch you two eye-fuck each other sooo weâll prolly go dance. Weâll be nearby keeping an eye, though, so remember the signals, yeah?â you hear from your left.
You nod mutely as your friends leave you for a repeat of Heads Will Roll.
âWe meet again, Ms. Taken.âÂ
You rip your gaze away from your friends on the dance floor to look up at Gojo. His stupid little joke startles a small laugh out of you.Â
âDidnât think you were one for dad jokes, Gojo.â you muse.Â
âPlease, call me Satoru.â he grins as he leans over the counter to order you both a shot of Baileys. âYouâre an incredible dancer you know.â Â
âSays the life of the party?â you laugh, turning in your seat to better face your interesting new friend.Â
He conducts an exaggerated bow, bragging âWhat can I say? Iâm quite great at everything.âÂ
Ah, the dramatic type.
âNow that just makes you sound sleazy, Satoru.â you tease, gratefully taking the shot from the bartender.
Despite the dim lighting of the club, you could make out the slight darkening of Satoruâs cheeks. But, before you could ponder that any further, he clinks his shot glass against yours and downs the liquor.Â
Once you follow, he leans in closer to drawl âAs sleazy as that boyfriend of yours?â.Â
Goosebumps rise on your shoulders and you have to hold back a shudder - whether from Satoruâs deep voice in your ear or because of what he just said, you donât question.
Raising an eyebrow, âWhat would you know about my boyfriend?â
You watch as Satoruâs eyebrows furrow slightly, a more serious expression taking over his face. âOh, doll. You do know that your lilâ boyfriend is very popular with the ladies here, right?â
What the fuck? Okay, to be touchy is one thing but outright lying about your boyfriend is another.
You stare at Satoru blankly, unimpressed. Droning monotonously, âAh, so youâre one of those guys that lie to pick up a girl, huh?â You see his eyes widen by the smallest fraction - clearly not expecting this kind of response. Then he throws his head back and laughs. The nerve.
Between cackles, âIâm not. But your boyfriend sure is.âÂ
And as you open your mouth to retort he plows on, âNao-something, right? That two-tone-haired gremlin? Bumped into him last time I was here, he showed us a couple pictures of you, bragging about having a hottie waiting for him at home. It was almost heartfelt.âÂ
Satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and fumbles with it before turning the screen to face you. âThat was right before he started making out with some other chick, of course.â
And making out with some other chick he was.Â
The picture was blurry - seemingly zoomed into the background of a group selfie - but it was undeniably your Naoya, only with the added detail of his tongue down some other girlâs throat.
This FUCKER.Â
â...when was this?â, the words sounded foreign to your ears, as if spoken by someone else. But you knew from the way Satoru assessed you with slight concern that it was you who asked this.
â...last week.âÂ
Last week? Last week was when your boyfriend(?) was out of town for some alleged family dinner at the Zenin Estate. And the week before that as well. At this point, was any of it real?
âAnother dinner, babe? Old man Zenin sure is stepping up with the family bonding.â you chuckle, as Naoya fixes his hair in the mirror.
âYeah. Wonât be home tonight.â
âStaying at the Estate again? Ugh, well, stay safe. Love you!â you chirp as he flits out the door. Disappointed but, whatever, time to binge-watch those shitty rom-coms he complains about.
The longer you sat on that too-high seat at the bar counter, the longer things began lining up. His short fuse, the incessant texts, and most of all - his paranoia that you were cheating on him with any and every male in the vicinity. It was actually one of the things youâd blown up over before you left for the night.
âWhat? Naoya, babe, heâs literally my friendâs boyfriend. Why would I ever-â
âOh yeah? Well I couldnât tell cuz youâre such a fuckinâ slut. Yâknow, going on dates behind my back and all.â
âIt was a GROUP HANGOUT, I havenât seen these people in ages. What the fuck is up with you these days- I literally love you and only you. Look - canât we just celebrate our anniversary like usual, câmonâŚâ
âJust fuck off.â
Tears well up in your eyes. How could he do this to you? After two entire years?Â
You felt so stupid. Your thoughts were running a million miles a minute, and it stopped on one - you were going to get revenge.Â
Abruptly getting down from your seat, you turn without remembering to say so much as a goodbye to Satoru. Fuming, and mind filled only with thoughts of how youâd burn Naoyaâs ugly, overpriced shirts. Or maybe you could even send his unflattering nudes to the Zenin family groupchat - that would give those uptight fossils a real kick.
Your thoughts of enacting revenge are halted only when a large hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from heading for the club exit. Satoruâs ramblings hit you before youâd even turned to look at him.
âLook- Iâm so sorry. I didnât mean for you to find out this way. I thought you two had an open relationship or something. Which - looking back - how the fuck would a douche canoe like him have ever convinced you to have an open rela-â
Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your friends worriedly making their way towards the two of you.Â
You take a quick glance up at Satoru who was still in the middle of mumbling, â-shocked an e-boy bastard like him even pulled you in the first place.â
Fuck it.
Your body moved before your mind. You quickly shot your friends a thumbs up and tight-lipped smile that made them stop in their tracks, still slightly unsure. And with that, you grabbed Satoru and began dragging him to the exit, effectively cutting off his long-winded apology and/ or Naoya diss track.
Eyes firmly facing forward, you miss the mixture of delighted and scandalized expressions on your friendsâ faces. The only thing distantly registering in your mind being the cold touch of Satoruâs wrist.
It was quiet outside. Your ears were ringing a bit from the chaos of the club, so you bask slightly in the serenity before Satoru speaks up from beside you, âSoâŚchanged your mind, Ms. Taken?â
Oh, right. You took a prize with you - and he didnât even know your name, yet.
âAh! Sorry- That was just on impulse, I didnât mean-â, now it was your turn to ramble apologies for your hasty reaction. Just because you wanted to get back at your boyfriend doesnât mean you should involve someone else in it!
After apologizing and giving him your name, you look up to see the twinkle in Satoruâs eyes. He seemedâŚamused?
âI did take you for a bit of a thrill-seeker after the table incident, but damnâŚâ, he chuckles. âWell, now that weâre acquainted with each other, why donât we give that lilâ boyfriend of yours something to really be mad about?âÂ
His words cause a shiver to run down your spine. What?Â
He leans in close - so very close - and bats his long lashes, âThat is what you dragged me out here for, right?â
Well, maybe you are sort-of the adventurous type. And maybe this is what your freshly heartbroken brain had concocted as revenge for your boyfriendâs betrayal - but wasnât this too reckless, even for you? With what dignity you have left, you muster, âOnce again, Iâm so sorry for all of this. Letâs both pretend this never happened, you can head back and Iâll headâŚhome.âÂ
âWhere my cheating scumbag boyfriend isâ is the part that goes unsaid.Â
Satoru stays unmoving from his place in your personal space, defiantly staring right into your eyes, âYou didnât answer my question, doll.â he hums.Â
It might have been the alcohol - or the way his lip curled oh-so-perfectly into a teasing smile - but you find yourself sighing out in defeat. âFine. Yeah. That is what I brought you out here for but mind you it was impulse and-â
He has the audacity to look absolutely exhilarated at your response, cutting you off to muse âThatâs perfect then, isnât it? You get revenge on that cheating dumbass, and I get to fuck an absolute goddess.âÂ
At your stunned silence, he quirks an eyebrow and continues, âCome on, you really think I didnât see the way you were eyeing me up before getting on the dance floor?â
âWell, youâre kinda hard to miss.â you defend, face warming. âAnd either way, Iâm still in a relationship, we could even try couples therapyâŚand besides - I donât even know you.âÂ
Satoruâs grin only seems to grow at each word that spills out of your mouth, he was getting impossibly closer to you. Surprisingly, you didnât mind it as much as you think you would.
âWhy donât you?â he murmurs, eyes unwavering from your face.
âHuh?â
âWhy donât you get to know me?â
You frown at the question, heart still stinging from the revelation earlier about your boyfriend. âLast time I âgot to knowâ someone it ended up with him cheating on me after two whole years.â you mutter darkly.
The amusement drains from Satoruâs face and his eyebrows furrow as he rasps out âThat prick doesnât deserve you.â His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, he was close enough now that you could slightly smell the liquor from earlier mixed with his expensive cologne.Â
It was so intoxicating.
Against the rational part of your brain, you feel yourself leaning into his presence. You challenge, âAnd you do?â
âAbsolutely not.â, he breathes out.Â
And - fuck - then youâre kissing him. Because how could you not? Your lips are drawn to Satoruâs own like two halves of a soul that have connected after eons. Unbearable to part. He breathes you in like you were the only thing tethering him to this world.Â
A small groan wrecks the back of his throat.
Shit, maybe it was the other way around.Â
Your mouth parts, letting his tongue slide in. Satoru tasted sweet - like Baileys and every fantasy of a suave Prince Charming ever. You think that maybe you could get drunk off of his lips alone. You distinctly register the strong arm around your waist pulling you to him, sliding your hand up his chest and into those angelic locks.Â
His mouth curls into a smile against yours. âHaving fun, doll?â he chuckles, each word punctuated by small pecks to your lips. He pulls back ever-so-slightly to bite and tease the skin on your neck.Â
Against your will, a quiet whine rips from your throat. Satoru was everywhere. But it wasnât enough. You tug at his silky hair.
He seemed to get the memo. Connecting his forehead with yours, Satoruâs hands wander the expanse of your body before resting it on your ass, squeezing it lightly. âCâmon, use your words.â, he sounds just as breathless as you feel.
Raising your neck a little higher, lips ghosting over his, you whisper, âSatoruâŚI want to fuck you.â
He huffs out a laugh before murmuring lowly in your ear - words meant for you and only you - âNo, doll. I want you to ruin me.âÂ
Your thighs press together, he was going to be the death of you. Satoru catches the small movement and hums thoughtfully, âI got a lilâ place nearby. Wanna go?â
This was stupid. This was reckless. And you were going to do it.
Following your impatient nod, the both of you hurriedly walk the short distance to where Satoruâs car was parked. You share your location with your girls - just in case - before Satoru pushes you against the backseat door of his jet black Hellcat.
Lips connecting once more, he groans out, âNeed you here right now.â sounding at his wits end, âPlease, doll.â
Before you know it, the door is opened and slammed shut, and youâre sinking into the plush leather seat. Satoru is hovering over you now, dim street light illuminating the lust on his features. You looked into his darkened eyes, now hinging on a black that matched his car. The air was still. Waiting.
Then broken by the cacophony of the theme song to Oggy & The Cockroaches.Â
Ah, how classy.Â
Mentally cursing yourself for how out-of-place that joke ringtone was, you pull out your phone as Satoru backs up a bit. Your heart stops at the caller ID - âNaoya <3â - anger and guilt filling you.
âAnswer it.â, you hear from above you. Satoru, who had looked at your phone screen while you froze, was now smirking devilishly. He kisses your forehead reassuringly, repeating âAnswer it.â
WellâŚyouâve already come this farâŚ
âHello?â you stammer out, answering the call.Â
Your heart clenches as you hear Naoyaâs voice demanding to know where you are right now. But his words go in one ear and out the other as you pay more attention to where Satoru held you, letting him do as he pleases while he takes the liberty to trail his hands where your skirt was hiking up. You could feel his thumb rubbing circles into your thighs. Tease.Â
âHellooo, can you hear me? Havenât you had enough of fucking feeling sorry for yourself??â Naoyaâs grating voice snapped you out of your reverie.Â
Right, you still had to deal with that.
âListen, baby, Iâm sorry.â
Satoruâs hot breaths were fanning your hair now. His fingers continue their dance on your thigh. Feathery touch too light for any sort of friction, but just enough to set your skin ablaze.Â
âJusâ wanna tell ya donât worry. I will be late, donât stay up and wait for me.â
He bends down to kiss the crook of your neck and you feel his smile against your skin. Devilish and dangerous. Angling your head slightly, a jolt of electricity goes through your body as you meet his intense gaze - one that makes you feel vulnerable and exposed, despite being fully clothed.Â
The grip on your phone weakens - only one thought running through your mind right now.Â
Satoru wonât let you get out of this alive.
Your heated thoughts are once again interrupted by Naoyaâs nagging complaints. Usually, you would have simpered on the line, but right now consoling your boyfriend was the last thing on your mind.Â
âSay again? Youâre dropping out, my battery is lowâŚJusâ so ya know, weâre going to a place nearby.â
Naoyaâs shrieks of profanity are loud enough for Satoru to hear as well. He chokes on a laugh, quickly muffling it in the valley of your chest.Â
You have to hold back a yelp as his soft hairs tickle your nose. Evidently bored of all your conversation, Satoruâs hand finally slips past your skirt and begins playing with the hem of your lacy panty.
Shit.
âGotta go-â
And with that, you quickly hang up the phone and let it fall to god-knows-where. Satoru immediately catches your lips again, âThank fuck, e-boy bastard was about to make me lose my boner.â, he mumbles against them. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck and all the way down to your chest. âKeeping me your dirty lilâ secret, huh?â
A mischievous grin makes its way to your face as you hum, âFor now. Revenge cheating isnât as fun when they already know about it.âÂ
You wrap your legs around Satoruâs waist to pull him closer, feeling the outline of his cock. He grinds against you, letting out low, strangled groans at the touch of your clothed core. Both of you knew it - he wanted you so bad.Â
Satoruâs fingers were now rubbing against your folds through your panty, causing you to moan at the friction. He playfully nipped at your collarbone before looking at you with eyes that look like he wanted to eat you alive.Â
âLet me taste you.â he breathes out.Â
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Urgently, Satoru wasted no time in helping you sit up against the door, falling onto his knees to come face-to-face with your dripping pussy. He licks a long stripe, hands tightly gripping your ass to hold you in place.Â
Where Satoru was suave when kissing you, he was absolutely filthy when making out with your cunt. âMm- Tastes sâgood, doll.â he moans against your wet lips. You couldnât hold back your groans of pleasure, his mouth making your head spin.Â
Finally, his hands on your ass swiftly remove your flimsy panties - completely soaked with slick and spit. You reach out to take a hold of them, but Satoru redirects your hands onto his hair. âUse me.â he grins. Walls fluttering at how fucked out he sounds already, you almost miss the way he pockets your wet panties.
He dives back into making out with your pussy, Tongue pushing its way through your folds and tasting every inch of you with purpose. His nose keeps rubbing against your clit, and mewls rip from your throat to harmonize with the lewd squelching sounds from below.Â
Satoru pulls back to admire his work, satisfied at the disappointed gasp coming from you. âFuck- look at you. So pretty and dripping fâme. Gonna make a mess of my seats, doll?â he rasps out.Â
âShut up.â you whine embarrassed, pushing Satoruâs head to where you need him the most. He relishes in the rough treatment, rolling his tongue harshly over and over against your throbbing clit.Â
âShit! Satoru!â you yelp in ecstasy as you buck your hips into his face. More.
Satoru now uses two fingers to spread your cunt even more, admiring.Â
He bullies a long finger into your wet pussy. His ice-cold ring rubbing the base of your folds in stark contrast with the hot vibrations of his moans on your clit. It was all too much. You squeeze around his head - which only seems to spur Satoru on more as he increases his pace.Â
A second finger slides in, curling in unison to search for that spot inside you which Satoru knew would have your sweet moans singing louder.Â
Ah, there.
âSâgood Satoru. Fuck. Right there, donâ stop.â, you whine as Satoru fervently continues his attack on your cunt.Â
You call out his name over and over again. Satoru was everywhere. Everything. And he was the only thing on your mind as you cum with a strangled gasp of his name; iron-tight grip on his hair helping you ride it out on his pretty face.Â
While you descend from the heaven Satoru sent you to, he continues giving kittenish pecks to your pulsing cunt. Experimental licks making your thighs squeeze more around his face. He looked absolutely fucked out, eyes hooded and face flushed a delicate pink.
As the heartbeat ringing in your ears subside, you register that goddamn Oggy & The Cockroaches ringtone in the distance again.
Half-consciously reaching a hand out to feel it for it, you already know who it is before you take a look at the phone screen.Â
Naoya <3
The exasperation must show on your face, because Satoru reaches out a toned arm and silences your phone before setting it down - all while still nose-deep in your pussy. He pulls away, the absolute mess of spit and slick still connecting him to you and covering his devilish grin. It makes your cunt throb once more.Â
âCouples therapy is too expensive anyway.â, he rolls his eyes.Â
You spot the very obvious outline of Satoruâs cock straining against his trousers. He looked painfully hard.Â
God, you needed him.
Reaching out an unsteady hand, âLet me-â you begin before you were interrupted by his hands tenderly intertwining with yours for the nth time this night. His soft lips press a gentle kiss to them. And despite the lewd acts you two had been doing not even a minute before, this is what makes your cheeks heat up the most.
âI want you so bad, you wouldnât even believe. But trust me, where weâre going I can have you however I want. Properly.â his words strained, and going straight to your pussy.Â
And itâs the last thing said before he pulls your skirt back down and opens the door, only carrying you carefully to his passenger seat. âSafety first.â Satoru chirps, as he pulls over your seatbelt before closing the door and making his way to the driverâs seat.
Was he coddling you?
The drive to Satoruâs place is slightly rushed, his impatience showing in the way his fingers drum against the steering wheel.Â
Fingers that were in you.Â
Your cheeks burn as you try not to look behind and see the mess that you surely left on his overpriced seats. Whether from the blasting AC or from the prospect of what was about to happen, goosebumps rise on your skin.Â
They stay prominent as Satoru pulls into the extravagant driveway of the type of apartment complex that youâd sneer at on a normal day.Â
You feel very out of place at the gaudy entrance without panties under your short skirt.Â
Satoru hands his keys to the valet before steadily making his way to you, pulling you to him with a strong arm around your waist. âTold ya I got a lilâ place nearby.â he drawls into your ear.
âNothing too little about this place. Compensating?â you tease, and watch his eyes crinkle as he laughs.Â
âWell. Youâll find out soon enough.âÂ
The walk to the elevator is rushed, and you two have to fight to keep your hands to yourselves if you didnât want to permanently scar the sweet old couple riding it alongside you.Â
Finally. Finally you reach his floor,
Penthouse, you note.
âCouples therapy is expensiveâ my ass! Does this guy run a drug cartel or what?
Roughly pushing you against his door, Satoruâs lips are once again on yours. He firmly grinds his erection against your core, massaging your ass in the process.Â
Ah, you donât think heâs compensating.Â
A deep moan leaves Satoru as he feels the clenching of your naked cunt against him. You yelp when he moves your legs to wrap around his waist, effectively lifting you off the ground as if you weigh nothing.Â
One hand steadying you, he quickly punches in the code to his door.
Even as he enters and kicks the door closed, Satoruâs lips donât leave yours. He blindly turns on a light before pulling back to admire you. You felt like you were losing your sanity, âYouâre stupidly good at this, yâknow.â you murmur, uncharacteristically somewhat shy.Â
He chuckles, removing your shoes before setting you down. Yet, your feet touch his cold mahogany floors for only a split second before Satoru has you in a bridal carry. âSave your praises for the bedroom, doll.â he chuckles out.
Itâs a short walk to his room - or maybe Satoru was rushing - but his lips are on you as soon as your back hits the soft navy sheets of his king-sized bed. Maybe if you were in a clear state of mind youâd better appreciate the beauty of Satoruâs sleek interior dĂŠcor. But right now you were only focused on the open-mouthed kisses he was leaving on your covered breasts.
âI have a feeling youâll like me a lot less if I rip this off.â he tugs on the hem of your shirt with his teeth.Â
âDuh. And you really talk too much.â you huff out in impatience and quickly discard your top while Satoru pulls off your skirt.Â
He pecks you, hand reaching behind to unclasp your bra and leave you completely bare to him. âNot fair that Iâm the only one naked.â your voice tinged with embarrassment as you start unbuttoning his shirt while he teases and pulls at your hardened nipples. Satoru lets you manhandle him to your liking, and manhandle him you did.Â
You flip your positions so that you are straddling him, overpriced white button-up now thrown across the room.Â
Holy shit, he really is a gym rat.
You kiss your way down the white happy trail on his sculpted body, squeezing his pecs and licking long stripes up his prominent abs. âHah- yes. Please.â Satoruâs moans sound heavily, and it spurs you to make quick work removing his belt. Rivaling your impatience, he hooks a thumb under his trousers and urgently discards it.Â
Yeah, definitely not compensating.Â
Satoru is long, and flushed a pretty pink that matches his cheeks. His weeping tip makes the prominent vein along his length glisten in the low light. So perfect.
Mouth salivating, Satoru watches you with predatory eyes as you lean closer and closer. âBigger than your lilâ boyfriend, huh?â he hums cockily. You roll your eyes and shut him up by spitting right on his flushed head. You kiss it slowly, relishing in the low hiss drawn from him,Â
âHngh- F-fuck, dollâ. Pumping his base slowly, you take his head into your mouth. Bobbing at a steady rhythm that has Satoruâs eyes rolling to the back of his head.
âFuck. So fuckinâ good. Keep- keep going.â Satoru moans. You hum around him in a way that has his hips bucking into your mouth. You could tell - he wanted to push you down like a fucktoy and chase his high, but right now he was completely under your control.
Nails digging into his toned hips, you take his cock in further. âYes yes yes yes. Jusâ like that.â he whines, one hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and the other gripping onto the bed sheets.Â
It was messy. Drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, you gag on Satoruâs length as you suck it. Suddenly, his grip on your hair has you pulling off of his cock with a pop.Â
His hand moves to squish your wet lips together in a pout, âCanât have me finish before the main course now, can we, doll?â his gravelly voice drawls.Â
In a split-second, Satoru flips your position to hover over you. His hands groping and admiring every inch of skin he can see. Eventually, his fingers find their way back to your cunt, âSuch a pretty pussy. All fâme.â he spreads your lips teasingly before plunging inside - two fingers easily finding the spot from before.Â
Ever the multitasker, he sucks and teases your nipples, switching between the two to give them equal attention. You writhe, the pleasure from every point becoming too much. âAh! Hngh- Satoru donâ stopâ you moan out.Â
He adds another finger at a relentless pace, âSatoru! S- Toru! Toru. Iâm close.â your words slur together as Satoruâs name falls like a prayer from your mouth. You were still sensitive from before, so it wasnât long before you were cumming all over Satoruâs fingers with a final mewl.Â
But you two werenât done - far from it.Â
âNeed you so bad, Toru.â you breathe out, half-lucidly.Â
Proud smirk on his face, Satoru quickly fishes out a condom from his bedside drawer. Through the hazy aftermath of your second climax, you hear him mumble sweet reassurances to you as he rolls you over onto your stomach.Â
A soft caress of his fingers at your pussy and you feel his head rubbing your folds.Â
Worriedly you breathe out, âToru- it wonât-â
âShhh, doll. Iâll make it.âÂ
You whine in both pain and ecstasy as Satoru bullies his thick cock into your cunt. âOh god. Sâtight. So fucking tight.â he gasps out in pleasure, starting to move in shallow thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
His large hand pushes down on your back, making you arch into his cock, the other starts incessantly rubs desperate circles on your sensitive clit. A few tears stream down your face from the sheer overstimulation. But it felt good - so good. Your moans grow louder as the pleasure starts overtaking the pain.
âMore, Toru.â
âOh yeah?â
Satoruâs thrusts get deeper and deeper, until he finally buries his cock into you as deep as it could go. Throaty groans spilling out of his mouth, he leans over and bites you at the crook of your neck hard, still slamming into you at an intense tandem. You yelped at both the new angle and the bite which was sure to leave a lasting mark.
âBet he never fucked you like this.â His every word punctuated by a hard thrust. Shit, you didnât even want to think about him right now. Your walls flutter around Satoruâs thick cock, throaty groans leaving him as his toned arm grabs the headboard for some stability. âPussy fuckinâ sucking me in just right. Hah- so good.â
Feeling that very familiar coil in your abdomen, you mewl, âToru- Iâm gonna-â, face burying deeper into his luxurious bed.Â
Suddenly, the friction you crave so badly halts as Satoru pulls out to flip you onto your back with a playful smack to your ass. âFuck. Wanna look at your beautiful face as you cum.â he mutters into your ear.Â
Leaning down to tug on your breasts, he looks at you with deceivingly innocent eyes as he keeps up his merciless cadence. Your arms reach around his muscled back to dig your nails into the unblemished skin. It felt so animalistic, the way his heavy balls were slapping your ass, stimulating you just right. Your hips buck up to meet Satoruâs, causing him to let out a strangled moan âShit, doll. Pussy made jusâ for me. Iâm so close.â
âM-me too.â his fingers start their abuse on your clit once more, âHngh- Toru.â you whimper. Overstimulated and senses filled with only Satoru, you finally cum, riding it out on his deep thrusts.Â
Tears stream down your face as you come for the 3rd time tonight.Â
âFuck- FUCK. Yeah, cum on my cock, doll. Jusâ like that.â he moans out as your pussy clenches down on him, finally tipping over the edge as well.Â
You feel Satoru cum in hot spurts into the condom, rasping your name over and over as if it was the only word he knew.Â
He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his full bodyweight. As you both come down from your highs, he quickly removes the condom and hugs your sweaty body closer to his. You feel more relaxed than you have in ages. Moves veiled in exhaustion, Satoru nuzzles your hickies as a lover would.Â
So he was a cuddler.
Giggling at the contrast from before, you lay there in a blissed out silence almost has you falling asleep. You take the moment to appreciate just how pretty Satoru in his post-orgasmic euphoria was. Cloudy locks disheveled, and lips a wet, rosy pink. His cerulean eyes were barely keeping open as he gives innocent pecks to your lips.
The serenity is disrupted by a familiar, unpleasant cacophony of vibrations near the edge of the bed where your phone had been thrown. The fucked out little smile on Satoruâs face grows as he realizes who it is. âGonna answer the phone, doll?â he rasps out.
You raise a brow, âWhy? Wanna give him a show?â you tease, not expecting the hum of agreement from Satoru. âWhy not? Show him jusâ how I fuck you right?â he cocks his head, challenging you.Â
Your knee brushes up against his half-hard cock, causing a drawn-out hiss from him. His hips lightly rutting into you, you watch in satisfaction as tears spring to Satoruâs half-alert eyes. From pleasure or overstimulation? Probably both.
Well, the score was You - 1, Satoru - 3.Â
Might as well try and catch up.Â
Round two, you guess.
You snatch your phone before it topples off the now-untucked bedsheets.Â
Naoya <3 is video callingâŚ
Pinning Satoru down, you scoot down the bed and hand him your phone, which he gratefully takes with a mischievous smile. Positioning yourself in-between his strong legs, you gently kiss his twitching cock, now painted with spit and cum.
The delicate tears in his eyes now track down his flushed face. Satoru lets out a choked out whine, bucking his hips and smearing his cum all over your swollen lips.Â
And he answers the call.Â
âWhere- WHAT THE FUCK???â
Happy anniversary, you jerk.
A/N. I donât condone cheating but câmon itâs Gojo Satoru.
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hahahahhaha get it because gojo hahahaha is split in half hahahahahhhh
anyways that little drabble will either end my life or save it idk which I still need to think abt it fr
NOOOOOOOOO WDYM IM NOT INVITED TO UR GOJO THEMED BDAY PARTY đđđđđđ
NO u don't understand... I was in TEARS after reading. your invite was ripped in half and thrown into the trash can after I read the first sentence.
Saw the word bye and immediately broke down crying
great work tho will most definitely cry to it later!!!
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NOOOOOOOOO WDYM IM NOT INVITED TO UR GOJO THEMED BDAY PARTY đđđđđđ
NO u don't understand... I was in TEARS after reading. your invite was ripped in half and thrown into the trash can after I read the first sentence.
Saw the word bye and immediately broke down crying
great work tho will most definitely cry to it later!!!
4 notes
¡
View notes