I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE PLEASE I WANT THIS TO BE REAL I WANNA BE THEM 😭😭

Fate | Buggy x reader x Shanks ♡

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genre: smut, nasty nasty smut (minors dni) and a tiny little bit of fluff at the end

pairings: buggy x reader x shanks

wc: 13.3k

cw: fem!reader, bartender reader, semi public sex, a lap dance, a LOT of dirty talk, biting, piss kink, omorashi, so much oral, jealous!buggy, buggy is actually really sweet, brat tamer shanks, spanking, pussy slapping, spitting, some parts are dialogue heavy, buggy's detachable dick, shanks lowkey has a clown fetish, squirting, overstimulation, aftercare, love confessions

masterlist | one piece masterlist

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Your childhood friends, Buggy and Shanks, both found your bar around six months ago and have been hooking up with you ever since. The connection the three of you have runs much deeper than mindless sex so you finally get them in the same place at the same time so you can fuck like animals and confess your love.

a/n: I'm so fixated on buggy right now i literally can't think of anything else

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You're just starting your evening shift at your bar when a familiar hat and blue pigtails comes sauntering into the building.

“Hi, Buggy,” you call, and your old friend wanders up to the bar with a grin on his face.

“Hi, sweetheart. We’ll have whatever you got. We're celebrating tonight,” he says. You nod and signal to one of your security guys to go down to the basement and get the big barrels you're not strong enough to carry. You don't need to worry about any trouble at the bar when Buggy and his crew are there, though you worry that one day he'll be here at the same time as the actual pirate whose protection you're under.

The small island your village is on is under the jurisdiction of red-haired Shanks. Your mayor hasn't officially accepted Shanks’ offer yet. Still, you have a feeling that with all the business their pirate crew brings to your village—buying from your local farmers and frequenting your bar—he'll formally accept when Shanks returns from his next voyage. The lack of permission from your mayor doesn't matter to Shanks; he's ultimately just using this island as a base to place you under his protection.

You, Shanks, and Buggy were all on the same pirate ship as youngsters. You'd been impossibly close, inseparable at all times. After they'd had a falling out at the site of your former captain's execution, you'd refused to pick a side, and Shanks had taken you with him so he could drop you off at a quiet island where you leave your pirate life behind you.

However, after Shanks and Buggy had made a name for themselves, your history of piracy had worked its way into your present. Shanks had been the first to find you, having been the one to drop you off, and wasn't surprised to see you now owning and running one of the bars in your village. He'd walked in by himself and jokingly asked if your bar was pirate-friendly. Your security guy was about to launch forward but was stopped by you, who had called his name and ran around the bar to launch yourself into him. He hugged you back with one arm, and you welcomed his crew into your establishment. Your staff were on their best behaviour that day and respected you more after finding out you were close friends with one of the emperors of the sea.

Buggy had accidentally stumbled upon your bar but was beyond shocked to see you. He had initially threatened your village, but upon receiving a smack and stern talking to from you, he gave up embarrassingly quickly and asked politely to frequent your bar. You allowed him, glad to see him alive and warned him that you were under a different pirate’s jurisdiction. You ordered your staff to be hushed about the pirate being Shanks, so you don't scare off Buggy.

Since then, they'd been coming to your island intermittently, competing with each other without even knowing. Shanks knows there's another pirate who sometimes docks up on your island, and Buggy knows another pirate is trying to lay claim to your land, but neither of them knows it's the other. How they've avoided each other for this long is a mystery to you.

“Hello? Sweetheart?” Buggy's voice draws you from your memories, and you look up at him with a smile. What're you smiling at? You weirdo,” he says, reaching over the bar to flick your forehead. One thing both Buggy and Shanks never grew out of was their childish teasing. Buggy, in particular, likes to wind you up. Whenever you would tattle to your old man, Rayleigh, about the boys teasing you, he would insist that it was because they had a crush on you.

“Nothing, Buggy. I was just reminiscing about the old days,” you say. He rolls his eyes and calls you a sentimental fool. Buggy turns his attention to the bar behind you. He detaches his hand from his body and reaches for the top-shelf whiskey. He's too much of a lightweight for it. You know that much, so you snatch it back and scold him for using his power to rob you of money. You never realised how differently you view your ‘lovers’ compared to everyone else until your staff asked how you have the balls to tell them off and flirt with them, fearing losing a limb for messing with an emperor. Buggy begrudgingly listens; you're the only person he can't bring himself to argue with. He can tease you and wind you up until the cows come home, but if you look genuinely upset, he fills with guilt immediately.

Your security guy comes back with a barrel of cheap booze and helps you set it up. You start to serve it up, beginning with Buggy and then calling over his crewmates. You ensure everyone is served before returning to cleaning glasses and steins to ensure you're on top of things.

Buggy keeps a keen eye on you as you move around the bar, busying yourself with odd jobs. You can feel the clown watching you, and you feel your skin heating up. Your friendship with Shanks and Buggy has always been more than platonic, especially now that you're all grown adults and you own a bar. They're always sneaking you off on breaks or taking you home after to fuck you. They're very different in the bedroom; Shanks is confident and in control, whereas Buggy takes care of you, but ultimately you're in charge. Buggy’s an emperor of the sea now, so you're curious to see if that's helped his confidence. Insecurity usually had him doubting himself in the bedroom, leading to him easily bending to your will for a bit of praise. He appeared to be more sure of himself when he walked in, so you take that as a good sign.

You're focused on the bottles behind the bar when you feel a tug at your skirt. You look down to see a hand creeping under your skirt. The hand slides around to squeeze your ass, and you turn around to see Buggy, handless, staring at you. His hand works its way to the front and slips beneath your panties, collecting your wetness on his fingers. You want to scold him, tell him off for touching you in public, but the predatory grin he's giving you right now is turning you on so bad. Typically, if you told him off, Buggy would drop to his knees and ask to eat you out as an apology, but you're curious to see if his boldness can translate into something more dominating.

You ask your friend to cover you while you go on a break. Buggy follows you as you round the bar and go through the back door to the staff-only area. He wasn't subtle about it. You know most of his crew just saw him go in here.

Buggy catches up to you when you're near a staff storage room, and he attaches his hand back right in time to push you into the room and turns you around to back you up against the door. He immediately attaches his lips to yours. His kiss is heated and messy, hot tongues pressing against each other. Buggy’s hands come up to squeeze your tits through your top, and he drops his kisses to your neck. You were thankful he had come in without makeup tonight, so you don't have to explain to your staff how your neck ended up covered in red lipstick. It happened to you once and was embarrassing for both of you, so you appreciate the consideration. He drops to his knees, kissing your thighs, and as his hand reaches for your panties, you stop him.

“Bug, wait. My break is only ten minutes. We don't have time for all this.” You say, pulling him up by his hair. “Just fuck me properly”, You whine, pulling him into a kiss. He lets you guide it before you get tired of messing around. You want to see how his status as an emperor and newfound confidence has changed the way he fucks you.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, turning you around and grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“Yes, and I want you to fuck me hard. You're a Yonko now. Where's all that power and aggression?” you ask. Your teasing question works; Buggy's voice is barely above a growl when he responds.

“You wanna see my real power?” he asks, punctuating his question with a slap to your ass. This is exactly what you've been waiting for with Buggy. You nod, and he turns you back around again. He doesn't look mad. There's no dark glint in his eye, and he just looks excited. You know Buggy, he'll never be a hard dom, but you just want to see more control from him, and that is exactly what he's showing. “I need words.”

“yes. I want you so bad.” Buggy smiles at your consent, leaning against the storage cupboard wall. He pushes you down on your knees and undoes his belt and trouser button.

“If you suck my dick for me right now, I promise I'll take you back to my ship and destroy your tight little pussy” You nod and waste no time reaching up to free his cock from his trousers. Buggy laughs at your eagerness. He doesn't receive this kind of sexual attention much, so you tend to fluster him, though he's not letting it show tonight. When you finally get his hard cock in your mouth, he moans embarrassingly loud. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling as you work him into your mouth. He's all too aware of the fact that he'll cum down your throat the second he makes eye contact with you. “What would people say about you if they opened this door to see you on your knees for a pirate captain? And an emperor, no less,” he says, hips bucking into your mouth slightly as he gets closer to his orgasm. “What would Shanks say if he saw you like this?”

You moan around his cock at the question, and his hips stutter forward, breaking his rhythm. His cock harshly hits the back of your throat, and you gag slightly, pulling off of him. He uses his grip on your hair to pull you back to his cock. You want Shanks and Buggy to fuck you together more than anything. He's never spoken to you like this before, making you gush.

You slip a hand between your legs as you take his cock back into your mouth. Buggy finally looks down at you and groans when he notices what you're doing.

“Are you really touching yourself to the thought of red hair catching us?” he asks, scoffing. “I bet a horny slut like you would want him to join in” You know, Buggy's just as attracted to Shanks as you are, and you feel his cock twitching in your mouth at the mental image of sharing you with him. It doesn't take him much longer to cum. He cums down your throat and helps you wipe off any stray drops of cum that missed your mouth. He pulls you into a kiss as you tuck him back into his underwear and zip up his trousers for him. Buggy almost looks embarrassed at how quickly he's cum, but he quickly gets over it when he realises how turned on you are.

“I'm the boss here, you know. I can cut my shift short if I want to,” you say, pulling him in for another kiss. Buggy feels a stirring in his stomach when he kisses you. It's been happening for years; he chalks it up to being impossibly horny and refuses to look further into it. You go back into the bar and tell your staff that your shift is over, and you trust them to lock up. As you walk back to the Big Top with Buggy, he tells you stories about what he's been up to since he last left your island.

Buggy brings you onto his ship and down to his captain's quarters. As soon as you're in his space, the door is swung shut, and Buggy all but pounces on you. He pulls you into a rough kiss, walking you to the middle of the room. You occupy his thoughts all day, every day. He fantasises about your pretty self putting on a show just for his eyes. He sometimes wants to ask you if you can dance and see if he can ask you to give him a private performance. He’s finally got a chance to fulfil multiple of his fantasies at once, so he doesn’t hesitate in taking it. He pulls away, breathing heavily. He sits down on his throne, which has been pushed up against a wall, and leaves you standing in the middle of the room.

“Take it off for me, give me a show,” he says, leaning back. “make it flashy.”

You start with your top, taking care to remove it slowly. You feel one of his hands squeeze your tits. You whimper at the stimulation, and Buggy laughs. You carefully push your skirt's waistband over your hips until you can drop the garment to the floor. You turn around and hook your fingers in your panties, pulling them down your legs. You go to kick off your heels, but Buggy's hand grabs your ankle to stop you.

“keep ‘em on,” he says. You turn back around to look at him and see he's shirtless, hair down, palming his hard cock through his trousers. You notice he's become more like Shanks now that he's trying to take control. His hand grabs hold of yours so he can drag you over to where he's sitting. He pulls you to his lap so you're straddling him. He guides his cock to your entrance and kisses your neck and shoulders as you take him to the base. “ride me, baby,” he growls.

You obey, lifting your hips upward and slamming them back down. You both moan at the way his cock feels dragging against your walls. Buggy soaks in your pretty noises as his fingers dig into your hips to guide you.

You lean down to capture Buggy in a kiss, tilting your head to avoid his cute nose. Kissing Buggy always feels like you're unravelling a secret; the big scary clown pirate emperor is really just your silly man who wants to take good care of you. You feel close, and you start to drag your hips, grinding down on him. You whimper into the kiss, prompting a laugh from Buggy, who uses his grip on your hips to hold you in place while he fucks up into you.

“I'm gonna cum”, you moan, dropping your head to his shoulder.

“Yeah? Go on then. Make a mess for me”. All it takes is a few more thrusts to reach your high. Buggy watches intently as your orgasm crashes over you. He groans as you scratch at his back. He manages to hold off his orgasm as you come back to your senses. “Can you give me another one?” he asks.

“Didn’t you promise me you were going to destroy my pussy?” you say, pulling him into another kiss.

“I did, didn't I?” he says, before moving forward and laying you down on the fluffy rug spread across the floor. He's on his knees, hovering over your body. He pushes his cock into you again, groaning at how sensitive you both are. He braces himself with his elbows on either side of your head, and then he starts to fuck you properly. He grunts in your ear as he fucks you down into the floor. His cock fills you up so well that it is almost embarrassing how you whimper about it. Buggy loves the rush of adrenaline he gets from fucking you. How you cling to him and whine about how good he feels makes him feel like he could do anything. Your hands fly to his hair as he rearranges your insides, and he moans as you harshly tug at his hair. “That's it. Let me know how good I'm fucking you.”

Your second orgasm hits you like a freight train. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you gush around his cock. His orgasm follows closely behind, and he bites down harder as he fills you up with his cum. He tries his best to fuck you through both of your orgasms, and when your walls finally stop pulsing around his cock, he slips out of you carefully. He cleans you up with tissues and then carries you to his bed. He changes into pyjamas and then climbs into bed with you.

“Stay here for tonight. I'll take you home in the morning,” he says, moving a piece of hair out of your face. Buggy is not typically so affectionate with you after you sleep together; he’s never mean to you, but he’s never this soft. It makes you wonder what's changed.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” You ask, cuddling up to his chest.

“Nope, we still have one more day here.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Buggy returns to your bar again the next night. He’s doing his usual routine of staring at you, drinking less than all of his crew and waiting to get you alone so that he can fuck you. He’d reminiscing about his previous trip to the island after you’d left the ship that morning, and he’s been having shameful thoughts about trying a specific gross kink with you. You and Buggy had hooked up before. You're no stranger to his wilder kinks, but there's still one that he's been keeping from you up to this point. He thinks he's finally got you comfortable enough to try it. He's been trying to buy you drinks all night, but you've insisted on being a good little bartender and drinking water instead, which was his plan all along. You don't realise Buggy has only had one drink, wanting to stay sober for what he's going to do with you tonight.

He overhears you complaining to one of your coworkers about needing to piss, and his cock twitches in his trousers as he thinks about the night he saw you piss yourself.

It had been an accident; you'd been out drinking with him, and there wasn't a toilet around, but you didn't want to go outside, so you had to try and make it to the next bar without pissing yourself. You were almost there when you felt it start to come out. You made a run for it, and Buggy followed you to guard you. However, he didn't turn around to check for onlookers. He just shielded your body from view with his own. He was too busy staring at the puddle you were making on the floor as you pulled your already-wet underwear down so you could go in the alley. It should have been gross, but he couldn't look away. He couldn't stop thinking about burying his face between your legs.

He hears you ask your coworker to cover you so you can go to the bathroom, and she denies you, saying you close in ten minutes and asking you to hold it. The way you whine in response reminds him of how you whine to him when he teases you. He turns around, facing you. You're standing behind the bar in little black shorts, a crop top and heels, driving him insane. He's grateful for your bar's questionable short and all-black dress code.

After ushering the Buggy pirates out of the bar, you rush through your cleaning and leave your coworker to lock up. You step outside the bar and are met with Buggy waiting for you, leaning against an opposite wall. He's watching the way you walk over to him with a grin on his face. You're wobbling, desperate to piss, and trying to hold it in. You're fidgeting, and it makes Buggy laugh. You scold him, which he pays no mind to before lifting you over his shoulder and carrying you to your home, which isn't far from the bar.

As soon as he's in the door, he puts you down and watches as you run towards your bathroom. Like the predator he is, he lures you into a false sense of security by encouraging you to go to the toilet while he puts your stuff down. However, when you get to the bathroom door, you're greeted by one of his hands holding it closed. You try to get it to let go, but it's no use. Buggy is stronger than you. You scream Buggy's name in anger, and suddenly, his hand is joined by the rest of him.

“Can I help you, sweetheart?” he asks, feigning ignorance and moving his hands to your hips now that his body is blocking the door.

“Please move, Bug. I need to go so bad. It's not funny,” you whine, nearly in tears from the pressure on your bladder. Buggy pulls you into a messy kiss, and when you pull away, he expects to see you glaring. Instead, you're looking up at him with teary eyes and the cutest little pout. He wants to ruin you. “I need the toilet,” you whimper.

“There's one right here,” he says, patting his thighs, and you immediately stop struggling in his grasp. You look up at him in bewilderment.

“That's not funny.”

“I'm not joking,” he responds, leaning down to kiss your neck. “If you think it's too gross, I'll move, but I want to feel you let it go so bad.” He groans into your ear before resuming his kisses. He can tell you're thinking it over.

“What about the mess?” You ask, voice shaky and unsure.

“I'll clean it up.”

“Okay,” your voice is small and desperate, but having your permission launches Buggy into action. He lifts you and carries you over to the guest bedroom that he sometimes crashes in when he's docked here. He dumps you on the bed and helps you strip down to your underwear. Your hands instinctively fly between your legs to cup your pussy, but Buggy is quick to swat them away. He grips the back of your thighs and pushes your legs up towards your chest. Buggy leans down to kiss your stomach, leaving red lipstick marks in his wake. You moan as you finally start to relieve yourself. Buggy leans back, gaze fixed on your cunt.

“Yeah. That's it, baby. Let go for me,” he encourages as he watches you make a mess of your underwear, the sheets, and his trousers. You almost hate how good it felt. Buggy leans down to kiss you, but it's a kiss full of aggression and desperation. “That was so fucking hot,” he growls into the kiss.

He pulls away from the kiss to stare at you, from his makeup all over your skin to your soiled underwear; he wishes he had a camera on him right now. He reaches down and pulls your underwear off, tucking the soaked fabric into his trouser pocket to take with him when they depart from your island. Your exposed pussy has him drooling, and then he hears you whimpering for him to do something other than stare at the mess you made. He can tell the embarrassment is starting to creep in, so he leans back down to your face, shushing you and kissing your lips. He savours the kiss, knowing you probably won't kiss him for the rest of the night after what he's about to do.

Buggy drops to his knees on the floor and drags you closer to the edge of the bed. He then dives right in, licking and sucking at your pussy. He buries his tongue in your hole, moaning loudly at the taste. He'd fantasised about doing this to you for months, but none of his dreams come close to how it feels to have you with him right now, indulging in his dirtiest fantasy. He drags his long tongue back up to your clit and suctions his mouth around it, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud. You're so close to cumming, and with the relief you've already had tonight, you feel tears start to pool.

“Please, Buggy. I'm so close,” you moan, bucking your hips up into his face. Buggy's hands hold you in place as he sucks harshly on your clit as pushes two fingers into you. You moan and arch your back as he fingers you open. His tongue feels so good, and the extra stimulation of his fingers has an orgasm washing over you easily. You moan Buggy's name as tears roll down your face. He's completely focused on drawing your orgasm from you. He licks at every drop that leaks from your sweet pussy.

When you've calmed down, Buggy rises to his feet. He stares down at you like he's staring at his last meal. Your makeup is just as smudged as his. Your skin is covered in remnants of him. You're a vision of pleasure, panting and drooling as you come down from your intense orgasm. Buggy commits the sight to his memories. He towers over the bed, reminding you of how big Buggy is.

“You ready for me?” he asks, detached hands groping your body. When you nod and give him permission to fuck you, he grins something evil. He attaches his hands and manoeuvres you up the bed so your head is against the pillows. He wastes no time pushing his cock into you; if you haven't woken up the neighbours yet, then you definitely will when Buggy starts to thrust his hips. “You look so pretty under me,” he coos. “I should take you to sea with me so I can fuck you on my ship every day,” he says. You know you're close; you feel the tension building inside you. Buggy knows it, too. He can feel your pussy clenching down around him. Right as the tension is about to snap, Buggy pulls his cock out of you, stopping your orgasm in its tracks. You cry out in frustration.

“It's okay, I got you. I just need you to turn over for me,” he says, helping you turn onto your hands and knees. He slowly pushes his cock back into your waiting pussy. He slides a hand over the skin of your back, and then he pauses. He spots the mark on the back of your shoulder. It's a love bite Shanks had given you during your last hookup a few days prior to Buggy arriving. “Who else are you fucking?” he asks, filled with rage. You want him to continue, but you're unsure how he'll react to hearing Shanks' name after all this time.

“Bug, listen-” He doesn't listen. Buggy’s insecurity and the feelings for you he's mostly ignored have risen to the surface. He drapes his whole body over yours to speak directly into your ear.

“If you want to cum, you better tell me who else has been inside of my woman” His voice is low and threatening, and it has you gushing and clenching around him.

“Shanks,” You say, trying to move on Buggy's cock that's still inside of you. Buggy goes completely silent, not growling and panting like he had been seconds ago. It's like his rage has been quelled.

“red-haired?” he asks in shock. You nod the best you can while being squished underneath him. You're expecting another spell of rage, but you feel Buggy's smile against your skin instead. “you promise it's only us?”

“Yes, Buggy. I promise. Now please make me cum” you whimper. Buggy gives in immediately, rutting his hips against yours with reckless abandon. If anything, he's more passionate and determined to make you cum after finding out you've also been with his self-declared nemesis.

“Cum for me,” he says, voice easily cutting through your moans. Your body obeys him without question, slamming face-first into your orgasm like you were made just for him. He cums along with you, pulling out and spilling over your back. Once you've both finished, he reaches for the tissues you keep on the bedside table and wipes his cum off your back.

He then carefully picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat. He starts running the shower. As he waits for the water to heat up, he brushes his teeth and tongue with the spare toothbrush you keep for him. He jokes that you can kiss him now and laughs when he looks down at you to see you puckering your lips. He indulges, pressing an overly dramatic kiss to your lips. He tries to calm his heart when you laugh at his silliness, but he can no longer deny his feelings. To distract himself, he ushers you into the shower so he can clean you up properly. He's got both of you clean and in your bed within no time.

He lies next to you in bed, indulging himself in the domestic side of you despite knowing he's got to leave for another voyage tomorrow. He lets you press kisses all over his face and ask him questions about his adventures that he's more than happy to fill you in on. After a while, a comfortable silence fills your bedroom, and Buggy thinks you're finally going to fall asleep so he can leave. He's not quite so lucky; amidst the silence, you raise a hand to cup his cheek and say something that makes his heart feel like it's about to burst out of his chest.

“You're so pretty without makeup, Bug” He's not used to these kinds of compliments, and he buries his face in your neck, grumbling at you to ‘shut the fuck up and go to sleep.’ You listen, giggling as you get comfortable against your pillows.

You hear Buggy call you the most precious jewel on the grand line and realise he must think you’re asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up and embarrass him so you keep your eyes closed as you take in his sweet compliments and confessions he could never say to you whilst awake.

When you wake up, Buggy is gone from your bed. You check the guest room to see new sheets have been put on the bed, and you look out the window to see your soiled sheets freshly washed and on the line. You smile to yourself as you go downstairs to make breakfast for yourself. Both of your men now know you're sleeping with both of them and if your calculations are correct - and all goes well on their voyages - then both of your men will return to your village on the same day.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A few days pass, and your shifts feel boring without your pirate men bothering you the whole time. You had taken to dressing up a little more for work just in case one of them comes back early and walks into the bar while you're on shift.

Tonight, you're wearing a black minidress and thigh-high boots. You know you look good, having spent 10 minutes staring yourself down in the mirror before leaving the house. Neither of your men showed up at the bar. You'd heard whispers about a pirate ship docking up and gotten your hopes up. You swing open your front door, sulking over the lack of your not-yet boyfriends. However, when you wander through the door, you notice a tall figure blocking the doorway to your living room. At first, he startles you, but you give him a warm smile when you finally realise who it is.

“Hi, Mr.Beckman”, you say, offering him your hand, which he presses a kiss to. He informs you that his captain is waiting for you in the living room, and then he takes his leave after apologising for invading your privacy. You tell him he's welcome anytime and thank him as he leaves your home, leaving you with the red-haired man you find sitting on your sofa.

“Shanks!” you yell, surprised that he's come home a day early. He stands up to catch you as you run into his arm. He picks you up and spins you around, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “You're early”, you point out.

“We were ahead of schedule, and I wanted to see my girl,” he says, pulling you in for a proper kiss. “this dress looks so good on you”, he groans into the kiss before pulling back and asking you to do a twirl so he can check you out properly. He whistles lowly as his eyes take in every inch of your body, all dressed up for him.

“I wore this for you. I've been waiting for you to come back. Why don't you come see what's underneath it?” you say, guiding his big hand under your dress. When Shanks finds his path to your cunt, unobstructed by any panties, he laughs. He moves his hand from your dress, smoothing down the skirt of your dress and then lifting his hand to your chin to tilt your face towards him.

“As much as I want you to give me a proper welcome home, I need to talk to you,” he says, pecking your lips and sitting on the sofa. Shanks pats the space next to him, and you sit down, tucking yourself into his side. “I heard rumours kicking around that my sweet girl has been getting cosy with another pirate”, he says, and you roll your eyes at him, partially because he won't be mad when he finds out who it is and partially because you're not exclusive with either of them.

“It's Buggy,” you say, swinging a leg over Shanks to straddle his lap. His momentarily stormy expression relaxes when he hears the name of the third party in your trio.

“Buggy?”

“I know, I was surprised too. It's like fate is trying to keep us together. I've always belonged to you guys,” You say, grinding your hips down over his hardening cock. Neither you nor Shanks have ever been shy about how you feel about Buggy, but he was always too prideful to admit his feelings. Shanks is smiling now that he knows you haven't been disloyal to him. “he'll be back tomorrow if everything goes to plan,” you say.

“I'd bet you'd like having us both together, wouldn't you, baby?” he teases, bucking his hips upwards and knocking you forward into his chest. “you'd like to take both our cocks in this slutty pussy” The addition of Buggy, though he's not physically there, has ignited Shanks. He's launched into action, talking filthy in your ear as you grind your bare pussy over his crotch. “But you'll have to deal with just me tonight. Is one cock gonna be enough to fuck my greedy girl?”

You nod frantically, adjusting yourself so that you're grinding against his thigh. He chuckles at your eagerness and guides your hips over his leg. You ride his thigh as he leans back into the sofa cushions and watches you. He keeps his hand settled on your hips as you drag your pussy over the muscle of his thigh. Shanks notices you're getting close to an orgasm and tightens his grip to stop you from reaching your high. You whine in protest, and he can tell you're about to start complaining, but he cuts you off himself.

“I want to taste your cum”, he says, pushing you to stand up. He laughs as you stand on wobbly legs. He tugs at the bottom of your dress, signalling for you to take it off while he removes his clothes. He pauses between removing articles of clothing to watch you shimmy the dress down your pretty body and kick it off. Seeing you naked is better than any treasure Shanks could find at sea. Once he's naked, he lies back against the sofa and then beckons you back over to him. “take a seat”, he instructs, helping you straddle his face without falling off the couch.

You lean forward, taking a testing lick at his cock as his tongue makes contact with your pussy. He wastes no time shoving his tongue into your hole and licking at your walls. You moan loudly as you begin to take his cock into your mouth. His cock is thick, and it tests the stretch of your pretty lips. Shanks moves his tongue so your clit, licking and sucking at it as you start to bob your head.

You're both laser-focused on making each other cum. Shanks suctions his mouth around your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he makes out with your pussy. Considering he only has one arm, his grip on you is steady as he holds you in place. You try your best to take his cock as far as you can, and when you take him to the base without choking, you feel the vibrations of his moans against your pussy. Shanks is always vocal, letting you know how good you are.

You start to struggle when you get close to your orgasm. You can't focus on sucking him or bobbing your head while you're moaning and whimpering.

“OK, baby. That's enough,” he says, squeezing your thighs to keep your attention on his words. “Just let me make you cum”, he says, pulling back down to his face once again. His grip is sturdy and keeps you steady as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. He loudly cleans up every single drop from your cunt. Your tense, shaking muscles don't phase him as he holds you in place. He only lets go once he's sure you're done.

Shanks helps you up before standing up and grabbing your hand, letting you pull him through the house and into your bedroom. He lifts you with one arm and kisses you before planting you onto your bed. He tells you to lay back against the pillows, and you follow without question. Shanks climbs onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

“You're so beautiful”, he says, staring at your naked body so intensely that his gaze has you shifting in discomfort.

“stop staring at it and just fuck me” you whine. Shanks looks up at you with a dark grin that reminds you of who you're dealing with. You've had your soft, warm welcome home, and now it's playtime. Shanks is far more in control than Buggy; riling up Shanks isn't as easy. A little bit of attitude and lack of manners is a good start.

“You wanna tell me what to do, princess?” he asks, you know it's a rhetorical question but you answer anyway.

“I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just giving you a heavy-handed suggestion,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but you know he's enjoying it; his cock is hard and leaking. He uses his strength to turn you over onto your hands and knees. Once you're in position, he lands a smack on your bare ass, making you gasp.

“How's that for heavy-handed?” he says, massaging the area he had smacked to soothe it.

“More”, you sigh, “Please, Captain”. He groans at the title. You had taken to calling him captain in the bedroom; it is his official title, and it's a reminder of his strength and power. He obliges, giving you a few more swats on the ass before rolling you back over so you can lean your head against the pillows.

“Do you misbehave for Buggy too, or are you a good girl for him?” he asks, leaning over to look into your eyes. He knows your answer is going to annoy him when he sees the cocky smile that settles on your face.

“It's neither. Buggy is a good boy for me,” Shanks laughs, not at all surprised by your confession. “Although he did take charge last time, I guess being a yonko boosted his confidence,” you said, smiling while remembering your most recent time with Buggy. Shanks is still looking at you with his eyebrow raised. “And I was good as gold for him”, you tease, tangling your hands in his red locks and pulling him into a kiss.

“You can behave for other men, but you can't help yourself with me," he says, pressing his fingers to your mouth. You obey his wordless instructions and take them into your mouth. Now that you're gagged, Shanks can speak without backtalk, and your pussy drools with every word that leaves his mouth. “I was going to be nice; fuck you nice and slow and make love to you, but you just can't help running this bratty mouth. I missed my sweet girl and her perfect pussy, but now I have to deny myself to teach you a lesson.” he pulls his fingers from your mouth, waiting to hear a quiet “sorry, captain” from you.

When you apologise, he presses his thumb against your clit and rubs in circles, chuckling at the way you moan out and open your legs. He pushes two spit-soaked fingers into your hole and warns you to keep still as your hips buck up into his hand. You try your best to stay still as Shanks, who holds an unbothered expression on his face, plays with your pussy. He rubs your clit with his thumb while he fingers you. Having one arm has aided with his fingering skills. He hasn't set a rule on volume, and he never has; in all the punishments he's given you, he's never cut off your ability to tell him how good he makes you feel. He's too enamoured with your voice to gag you for more than two minutes. You moan and whimper and beg for him to speed up. The stimulation he's providing you with feels so good, but it's not enough to send you over the edge.

His cock is red and drooling precum. You know he's as desperate as you are, but he's holding himself off.

“Don't you wanna feel good, Captain? I can jerk you off,” you say, reaching out towards him. He shakes his head, pulling his fingers from your cunt only to slap it, fingers smacking harshly against your clit, making you yelp. You're so close to cumming.

“thought I told you to keep fucking still”, he growls, returning to his task of slowly fingering for you. He looks up at your face, expression faltering at the tears starting to pool in your eyes. “Just be good for me, sweetheart,” he says, his voice softening. His cock twitches when he hears you say an obedient “Yes, Captain.”

He speeds up his fingers, fucking you right close to the edge and then stopping as he feels your walls start to spasm around his fingers. Having your orgasm ripped away from you prompts the tears to start falling. Shanks leans down to kiss away your tears, whispering about how pretty you look. You know what he wants to hear.

“I'm sorry, Captain. I promise I'll be good,” you beg. Shanks smiles softly, pressing his fingers to your entrance. “Please, I need to cum. I promise I won't be a brat.”

Shanks cuts off your begging by kissing you, messily pushing his tongue into your mouth. He pushes his fingers back inside of you and thrusts, curling them against your walls.

“Cum whenever you want,” he says against your mouth, intimidating demeanour gone and replaced with your sappy, loving man. You cum with a cry of his name, legs attempting to close around his hand. He works you through it, cooing at you as you gush around his fingers. He pulls his fingers from your pussy and licks them clean as you regain your breath. “tastes so fucking good.”

You watch him intently as he spits onto your pussy and uses his cock to spread it between your folds. You're still sensitive and the feeling makes you twitch. Shanks smiles at you as he pushes his cock inside you, pressing kisses on your face as you whimper at the way his cock stretches your pussy. He starts to thrust, making you arch against him. Your hands reach up to his hair as he sloppily makes out with you. When he pulls away from the messy kiss, you whine his name.

“What is it, princess?” he asks. You wordlessly open your mouth, tongue lolling out. Shanks doesn't need to be told what you want. He spits into your mouth, whispering praises as you swallow. “See what happens when you're a good girl for me?” he says, kissing you again.

Shanks is committed to making you cum, hips laying heavy thrusts as his cock all but splits you open. His lips trail over your skin like a fountain pen on paper, signing his name in invisible ink. His voice has your mind reeling. You feel delirious. You're close already, and Shanks can tell.

“Wait for me, baby. I'm almost there”, He groans, feeling the first signs of his own orgasm. You're not sure if you can hold off any longer, and you tell Shanks as much as your nails cling to his back muscles. He gives you permission to cum, and you fall right over the edge along with him. Your pussy spasms around his cock, milking him for all he's worth while you gush around him. He says something to you, but all you can make out is your name. As you start to calm, Shanks stays inside you, laying his full body weight on you.

“you wanna know something, baby?”

“hmm”

“I've been in love with you since we were eleven,” he says like it's nothing. You go to protest, but he cuts you off to continue. “Buggy is too.”

“This is just the pussy making you talk crazy,” you say, too tired to deal with Shanks's bullshit.

“Nuh-uh. Bug and I used to talk about it whenever you went crying to Rayleigh that we were picking on you.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“We found our way back to you, didn't we? Do you really think we'd be using this tiny island in the middle of nowhere as a base if we weren't obsessed with you?” He says, hand-drawing patterns over your skin.

“Whatever. Just pull out and go to sleep” You huff, and Shanks does as you ask, gently pulling out of you and rolling onto his back. He waits for you to roll over before tucking himself against your back, pulling flush against his chest. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and lets you get comfortable. Just as he's about to drift off, you softly call his name.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Say I do love you back; what would happen?”

“Honestly, not much. We'd just be official. We can stop acting like this is just sexual. If Buggy can man up and admit his feelings, we can admit nothing between us was ever casual, and it was always supposed to be this way,” he says matter of factly. You nod, turning over in his arm so you can Bury your face in his chest.

“Good night, Shanks.”

“Good night, Baby.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next morning, Shanks follows you around town like a lost puppy, shadowing you as you buy groceries for the bar. He helps you carry the bags back and even helps you put away your bags when you get back. He can't help but sneak kisses between tasks, not being discreet about your feelings for each other. He's also more antsy than usual; he's sticking close to you, looking around like a meerkat and absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your top when he isn't carrying something for you.

“Are you okay? You're not usually this antsy,” you say, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead like you're taking his temperature.

“I'm just keeping an eye out for Buggy” It's kind of sweet how desperately he wants to include Buggy.

“You'll hear him before you see him,” you say, making Shanks chuckle fondly. “And that probably won't be until later tonight. When he docks up here, I usually don't see him until my shift,” you inform him. Shanks nods, chilling out with your words.

A couple of his crewmates are already drinking in your bar as you clean up, so you're ready to open. Shanks’ men are nicer to you than Buggy's. Beckman is always a gentleman; he's even played security guard for you several times, kicking out patrons who wouldn't take no for an answer. When you ask Yasopp to lift his feet so you can sweep under his table, he swings his boots onto the chair opposite him with a sharp salute and a “yes, ma'am” that has you rolling your eyes.

In comparison, Buggy's crew aren't as welcoming. His business partners have never caused any problems when he's brought them in. Crocodile and Mihawk were initially intimidating, but you won them over with your selection of wine and the knowledge that you were once an apprentice of the pirate king. Alvida was happy to have another woman to talk to after being stuck with Buggy for so long. Outside of those three, his underlings had been rather cold, and you've occasionally had to shut down the bar due to their rowdiness. You dread the two crews meeting tonight and hope the relationship between the captains can enforce an amicable atmosphere between the crews.

Your coworker comes in to complete the opening and leaves you to get ready in the staff room. Your outfit consists of a black mini skirt and a matching black top. You've already done your hair and makeup, and you know Shanks is going to have a hard time keeping his hands off of you until Buggy shows up.

As you walk back into the bar, your heels clack against the wood floor. You get a few whistles from Shanks' crew, and you're all but ambushed by the red-haired man himself, who basically corners you against the bar. His crew are no strangers to the affection between you and Shanks, so once they're done teasing their captain, they leave you be. Shanks wraps his arm around you, complimenting your outfit choice.

“Do you think you can behave yourself until Buggy gets here?” you ask as Shanks' hand cheekily slips beneath your skirt. You're suddenly reminded of Buggy doing the same thing to you with his hand. You roll your eyes at the similar tastes of your men.

“I don't know. You look good enough to eat”, Shanks growls, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek with an embarrassingly loud ‘muah’ noise that has your coworker fake gagging behind the bar. Shanks reluctantly lets you go and takes a seat at the bar. He watches you busy yourself with refilling his crew's drinks while you both wait for Buggy's arrival.

You don't have to wait long. About half an hour into your shift, the door swings open and Buggy storms in. He's by himself, meaning he probably saw Shanks through the window and sent his crew away. He's also red in the face - whether from embarrassment or rage is unclear.

“SHANKS” He yells, the top half of his body flying over to where Shanks is sitting while his legs run to catch up. Shanks looks up at Buggy fondly, and memories of your time together as a trio come flooding back as you observe them. Buggy screams something about Shanks embarrassing and betraying him, which Shanks merely laughs off. Buggy pauses mid-rant when his eyes land on you. “Hi y/n”

“Hi, Buggy,” you smile back, leaning over the bar to pull him into a kiss that clearly shocks him as it almost knocks his hat off. Shanks tilts his hat back onto his head and kisses Buggy's cheek, making him so flustered that you can practically see the steam radiating off him.

“Why don't we take our girl home and have a real conversation?” suggests Shanks. Buggy, unable to respond coherently, just nods, and Shanks tells you to get your stuff ready. You apologise to your coworker on the way out, who simply says she already knew this would happen. You and Shanks animatedly talk about the past while Buggy is uncharacteristically quiet, interjecting with his own point of view every so often. When you enter your house, you sit on the sofa, leaving your men to sit on either side of you.

“Why do we have to talk,” Buggy grumbles, tugging at the fabric of your skirt. “Why can't we just tear this off you, fuck you and then talk another time.”

“Because I don't want any problems between my favourite guys,” you say, batting your eyelashes at Buggy. Buggy gives in embarrassingly quickly, looking up at Shanks, who's bearing a similar expression to you. Buggy's heart squeezes as the feelings he's spent years suppressing rise to the surface.

“I'm not sure what I did to make you hate me,” says Shanks, but Buggy cuts him off.

“I don't hate you. I never hated you. I was willing to follow you through hell. We were supposed to find the one piece together, but then you changed your mind. I felt betrayed”

“I'm sorry, Buggy. I really am.” Shanks says, reaching across you to caress Buggy's cheeks. Buggy leans into the affection, making you smile warmly.

“Whatever. Can we get to the good stuff now? we'll handle all the emotions later.” Buggy says as his detached hand grazes Shanks’ crotch. “Besides, I think our princess wants some attention.” Shanks turns his attention to you, laughing at the pouty expression on your face. He is not done revelling in the fact that he finally has his two favourite people in front of him, so Shanks pulls Buggy in for a kiss that Buggy reciprocates with a quiet moan. They're clearly happy to have each other back, so while they kiss, you lean in and push Shanks's coat off his shoulders, pressing a kiss on his neck as you do so. When Shanks pulls away, he has a smear of lipstick around his mouth, making both Buggy and you laugh.

“You want some lipstick too, baby?” he asks, pulling you in for an enthusiastic kiss. Your teeth almost clash with how much force he puts into the kiss. It reminds you of how Buggy kisses you. It feels like he's overwhelmed and trying to pour some of his feelings onto you with his tongue, which he pushes into your mouth. You feel Buggy's mouth pressing against your neck as his hand plays with the front of your skirt. Buggy also lifts his head when you pull away from the steamy kiss. You can see how hard Shanks is, and you're sure Buggy is no different.

“There's more room on my bed than on here,” you say, starting to stand. Shanks also rises and lifts you over his shoulder. Buggy leads the way to your room, though Shanks is more than familiar with the layout of your house and lets one of his hands fly over to your ass. Your skirt isn't long enough to cover your whole ass in this position, so Buggy takes the opportunity to squeeze and grope your ass. You're thankful that Shanks is sturdy enough to be unphased by your squirming. Shanks drops you on the bed, leaving both of the men towering over you at the edge of the bed.

“There's still one thing that hasn't been addressed”, Says Shanks, twirling Buggy's hair around his finger. “Our insatiable girl has been fucking us for months behind each other's backs” You go to defend yourself and remind them that you were never exclusive with either of them, but Buggy's hands grab at you and pull you to sit up at the edge of your bed.

“You're right. I think she should have to answer for her actions. Any flashy punishments in mind?” Buggy asks. Shanks thinks it over for a second, picturing in his head all the positions both he and Buggy could put you in.

“You know how sensitive she is”, says Shanks and Buggy nods, more than familiar with how receptive you are to his touch. “I say we give her exactly what she wants; make her cum over and over again until her pretty body can't take anymore.” He says. It almost frustrates you how well they know you. Overstimulation is easy to achieve with you, and it's the perfect punishment that involves getting their dicks wet.

“I say one orgasm for every month she was hiding us from each other. When did you start seeing us, sweetheart?” Buggy asks, using his hand to keep your eyes on him. You know you can't lie. You started seeing Shanks first, and he's fully aware of how long he's had you back.

“Six months”, you say, your voice quiet. You're not even sure if you can handle that many orgasms, but you're willing to try. Both men start to strip as Buggy gruffly tells you to do the same. You're completely naked, and the two men are both in their underwear. Shanks instructs Buggy to sit up against the pillows on your bed. You do as you're told, as Shanks tells you to sit between Buggy's legs and back against his chest.

When you're in position, Shanks lies on his front, pulling you slightly down the bed so he can get a better angle to lick at your cunt. He shoves his tongue into your pussy, eating you out with vigour. He drags his tongue back up to your clit, lapping at it and then sucking at it. Your back arches away from Buggy as you cry out in pleasure. Buggy reaches up to play with your tits, adding to your stimulation. Shanks pushes two thick fingers into your pussy, as he all but makes out with it. Your fingers tangle in Shanks's beautiful red locks, similar to how he's tangled up in your heartstrings.

“Talk to us, pretty girl. Does that feel good?” Buggy asks, taking the lobe of your ear between his teeth. You frantically nod, and Shanks's tongue sends shockwaves through your whole body.

“Feels amazing”

“You gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod again, gasping out a yes as you feel the familiar stirring in your stomach. “You hear that, Shanks? She's gonna cum”

Shanks waits until your moans start to shake and then pulls away, slipping his fingers out your soaked cunt and over your shoulder into Buggy's waiting mouth. Having your orgasm ripped out from under you has you crying out and writhing in Buggy's arms. Buggy's unbothered by your whining as he sucks your juices off of Shanks’ fingers. He moves his arms down to wrap around your waist. The sigh has Shanks palming himself through his underwear. Shanks looks down at you, heart softening as your eyes, wet with frustration, blink up at him. You're not being bratty today, something that surprises him. You're far too excited to have both lovers in one place to act up now.

“I said we'd give you six orgasms. I didn't say we'd give them to you easily,” says Shanks, making Buggy laugh in your ear at the way you groan. You should've known the punishment would go further. Shanks leans back down to finish his meal but stops short of actually pressing his mouth to you to tease his fingers at the entrance to your hole. You beg him to do something, eyes screwed shut in frustration. Both men coo at your desperation. “I would if only I had something a bit thicker to fill up this pretty pussy with,” he says, holding his hand out to Buggy, who grumbles something about Shanks being annoying. You can feel that Buggy’s hard cock is no longer pressing against your back, and when you open your eyes, it's in Shanks's hand. “Open that pretty mouth and stick out your tongue”, he orders.

When you open your mouth, Shanks spits onto your waiting tongue and lays Buggy's cock down on it. You hear Buggy hiss at the sensation of your tongue against his cock. Shanks spits over Buggy's cock, using his tongue to spread the saliva. You can't believe how turned on you are by this. You didn't even consider using his power in the bedroom like this. Buggy is whimpering in your ear; the sound only makes you wetter.

“Stop teasing. We're supposed to punish her, not me,” says Buggy. Shanks apologises and pulls away, instructing you to suck Buggy's cock. You obey, egged on by the praise Buggy throws at you. Shank's pulls Buggy's cock from your mouth and pushes it into your hole. Both you and Buggy moan. Shanks's eyes are fixed on where Buggy’s cock is stretching you out. He slowly starts to move, and Buggy's grip on you tightens.

“How does she feel, Bug?”

“Warm. So fucking tight,” Buggy moans. Shanks leans down to continue his earlier task of licking at your sensitive clit. This time he doesn't stop licking and sucking until you're sent over the edge. Buggy is close too but holds off the best he can while your pussy clenches around him. You moan their names as Shanks stays in position between your legs, licking you through your high. When he finally sits up on his knees, he pulls Buggy's throbbing cock from your pussy and holds it up to your lips.

“Be a good girl and finish him off”, Shanks says, whispering encouragement as you accept it into your mouth.

“Fuck, Shanks let go of it. Hold her head in place,” growls Buggy. Shanks listens, moving his hand to get a firm grip on your hair, holding you in place as Buggy starts to face fuck you. You can feel Buggy clinging to you, telling you how good your mouth feels. It doesn't take long for Buggy to cum down your throat, and you do your best to swallow the whole load. Some drips from your mouth, which Shanks is quick to clean up with his tongue. Buggy's cock goes back to his body while Shanks helps turn you over so that you're straddling Buggy. Buggy immediately pulls you into a messy kiss as Shanks sits back to appreciate the two of you.

“You're both so pretty” He coos.

“You red-haired idiot, don't say things like that”, Buggy whines, obviously flustered.

You let Shanks guide you to the middle of the bed and bend you over, shoving a pillow beneath your hips for comfort. You hear Shanks ask Buggy to hand over his belt; moments later, your hands are secured behind your back. Shanks, who's now removed his underwear, slides his hard cock between your folds. He teases your hole, pushing his tip in and then pulling away. He waits a second to take in your pretty noises before giving in to your whining and pushing his cock. He's been hard since he saw you at the beginning of your bar shift, so it's a miracle he doesn't cum as soon as he feels your pussy wrapped around his cock. He lets out a moan that has both you and Buggy drooling from how good it sounds. Shanks starts to thrust and tells Buggy to watch how well you take his cock.

Buggy, who's tying his hair out of the way, looks up at Shanks, who tells him how pretty he looks. Buggy hasn't adjusted to how sappy Shanks is and flushes completely red. Instead of answering, he just pulls Shanks into an aggressive kiss. You can hear the sounds of their kisses behind you, and the sound makes you gush around his cock.

“You feel so fucking good”, groans Shanks, reaching, running his hand down your back to grip your hair and pull you upward against his chest. Buggy moves on the bed and is now in front of you. He kisses you and reaches a hand down to rub your clit. You moan into Buggy's mouth as he speeds up his fingers. “You're squeezing me so hard,” says Shanks, heavy thrusts jolting you forward.

You cum as Shanks ruts into you, chasing his own high. Your cries of pleasure make it difficult to kiss you, so Buggy moves his mouth to the crook of your neck, cooing praises into your skin. You hear Shanks behind you moaning and cursing, dangerously close to the edge with the way your pussy walls clench around him. He cums with a shaky groan, filling you up with his cum. He relinquishes his grip on your hair, chuckling fondly as you slump forward against Buggy. Shanks massages the sore area with his hand, giving you a moment to breathe.

“How many orgasms have you had now, pretty girl?” asks Shanks.

“Two”, you say, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

“Good girl, make sure you don't lose count.” Shanks and Buggy both guide you to lie on your back, and Shanks tells Buggy to hold your legs open. Buggy does as he's told, holds your legs spread, and pushes up your chest. Shanks grabs hold of Buggy's hair and pushes him down between your legs. “Clean her up for me.”

Buggy nods as he sticks his tongue inside of your cum filled Buggy. Shanks watches as Buggy eats Shanks's cum out of you. Buggy is eager to please as he licks at your cunt. It took him a while to get the hang of eating you out when you first started hooking up, but now he has an understanding of your body that no one else has. He works you over with his tongue, your post-orgasm sensitivity pushing you to the edge quickly. If you're this sensitive already, you dread to think how you'll feel after the next few orgasms you've been promised. Shanks looks from Buggy's face to yours and immediately recognises how close you are. He tells Buggy you're near and to make you cum now. Buggy pays extra attention to your clit as you attempt to buck up into his face. He holds you down as his tongue sends you over the edge and straight into an orgasm.

You writhe as you cum, drenching Buggy's face. Buggy remains unmoved, tongue still working at you even when you start to come down again. In fact, Buggy doesn't let up at all when your third orgasm quells; he pushes two fingers into you, ready to send you into a fourth orgasm. You're ascending from one plane of existence to the next as Buggy has the next orgasm building so quickly after your last. Every nerve in your body tingles and an odd feeling settles in your lower stomach.

Shanks looks on in awe; watching his two fated mates so animalistic has him too enamoured to even worry about his hardening cock. He's sure the way you're crying out for them is disturbing your neighbours, but he doesn't have it in him to care. Shanks watches as Buggy adds another finger. The pleasure is so intense that you shift up the bed, instinctively searching for something other than the sheets to grip. Shanks moves his hand from Buggy's hair to your face, caressing your cheek and running his thumb over your lips.

“Don't run from it, princess. Let Buggy make you cum” he says, voice soft. As if on cue, you're launched into another mind-blowing orgasm. It takes a second to register that you're gushing all over Buggy's face because Buggy seems completely unbothered by it, continuing to work you through your high and prolong your orgasm. Your body feels momentarily numb as you arch off the bed, shaking as you soak the sheets beneath you. Buggy finally relents, shifting back onto his knees, wiping his face with the back of his hand and messing up his makeup. You notice the way his face, neck and torso are dripping with your juices. You feel panic rise at the fact you've just squirted everywhere, but Shanks immediately stomps it back down by pulling you into a kiss.

Once you're rolled into a spot where you're not lying in a pool of cum, you get a glance of yourself in the mirror and almost recoil in shock. Your hair is messy, and your face is covered in smudged and transferred makeup. Your body is littered with remnants of lipstick and hickeys. When you look up at Shanks and Buggy, who look equally roughed up, they're staring at you with fondness in their eyes. You can't believe the men above you are looking at you with such hunger when you look this much of a mess.

“You're so beautiful,” says Shanks. Buggy's lipstick transferred onto your face almost makes it look like you have messy clown makeup on, and it causes a stir in Shanks’ crotch that he takes note of for future reference - maybe he’ll ask you to dig in Buggy’s makeup bag. Buggy is kneeling next to him, leaning on his shoulder to catch his breath. Most of his makeup is gone, having been transferred onto you and Shanks, but he still looks radiant to you. He has a smile settled on his face, a soft, content smile you don't see often from him. It makes your stomach warm to know you have this level of connection with two people. “Do you want to stop? We can stop if it's too much. Four orgasms is alot,” says Shanks, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he observes your ragged breathing. You frantically shake your head, immediately having an answer for him.

“I don't wanna stop,” you whine. You might be sensitive, but you crave as much of them as you can get. “Please. I want more,” you beg. You move your exhausted body to kneel in front of Shanks and push him down to lie on his back. Shanks easily does what you want him to, lying back but using his elbow to hold himself up and watch you.

You crawl on top of Shanks, straddling his hips and stare down his torso, examining the canvas on which you and Buggy have made art; bright red lipstick and shiny lip gloss cover his neck and chest. You don't waste any more time, grabbing ahold of his hard cock and guiding it to your hole so you can sink down on it. You feel Buggy's presence behind you and pull him closer to you so he can help guide you down. Buggy tells you to bend forward so he can join in. He grabs a bottle of lube from the night side table, spreads it over his fingers and pushes two against the tight rim of your hole. You gasp and clench around Shanks, who groans but is careful not to jolt you. Buggy works you open with his fingers until you've had enough and beg him to fuck you properly.

“Please put it in. I can take it. I need it so bad,” you beg, knowing Buggy would give it to you anyway. Shanks laughs from beneath you.

“Weren't you all fucked out from four orgasms like ten minutes ago?” He asks, amused by your sudden eagerness. “I didn't know you had crazy stamina,” he comments. Neither did you. Buggy pulls his fingers out of you and lines his cock up with your ass hole. His hands grip your hips, a steady presence as he pushes inside you.

You let out a strangled moan as they're both bottomed out inside of you; you've never been this full before. The three of you take a second to breathe, and in the silence, it hits you: you're physically connected to the two people you love most. You've always been theirs, always connected with them beyond romance, and always believed that your very livelihoods are intertwined. You're overcome with a feeling of genuine love.

“Please move. I need you so bad,” you whimper. Your heightened emotions have tears building in your eyes that don't go unnoticed by Shanks, who looks over your shoulder at Buggy and signals him to start moving. Both men begin to thrust, and it feels so good you find yourself clawing at Shanks’ chest. Shanks’ cock twitches inside you at the thought of the marks that will be left behind. The feeling of both men filling you up quickly overwhelms you, and the tears spill down your cheeks.

“Oh, pretty girl, you're crying for us. Does it feel that good?” coos Shanks. He reaches his hand up to wipe at the tears. Buggy’s lips trail your shoulder blades as he whispers praises into your skin. Your legs start to shake, and you can barely support yourself. You're about to cum again, and both men can feel it.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Your ass feels amazing,” moans Buggy. “Cum for us. I know you want to,” he says, hand reaching around to rub your clit. Your hand intertwines with Shanks’, and you pin it down to the bed by his head, squeezing his palm as you approach your orgasm. Shanks tries the best he can to fuck up into you harder, planting his feet on the bed for leverage.

Your orgasm is intense, and you sob about how good it feels as you lose your balance and slump forward to bury your face in Shanks’ neck. Shanks and Buggy continue their movements, chasing their orgasms. You barely have time to recover before you cum again, holes spasming around your men. Your vision goes white, your body goes numb, and you gush all over Shanks’ torso. Buggy is next to follow, teeth sinking into your skin as he fills you up. Then Shanks cums with a pretty moan before stilling inside you. You all stay in this position; naked, connected and in a sticky mess of cum and sweat. You're on the verge of passing out, so Buggy is uncharacteristically gentle as he pulls out, shushing you when you whine at the feeling. Buggy helps Shanks lift you off of him, and then the pair of them get you over to the guest bed so Buggy can clean you up. Shanks strips your bed and prepares your sheets for cleaning first thing in the morning. Buggy finishes cleaning up the mess of cum between your legs and over your hips and starts to wipe at your makeup that was ruined by his own cosmetics. Shanks returns to the guest bedroom and leans against the doorframe to watch the intimate moment between you and Buggy. A smile settles on his lips as he watches Buggy steal a kiss while wiping your makeup off.

“Ready for bed, you two?” he asks as Buggy throws away the wipes. Your bed is only a double, so the sleeping arrangement ends up being you fully on top of Shanks, resting your head on his chest. Buggy tucks himself into Shanks’ side and rests an arm over you.

“Love you,” you mumble as you drift off. Buggy doesn't respond, as he is too flustered. Instead, he kisses your temple and lies back down to you in slumber.

“I love you too, baby. I love both of you,” says Shanks before closing his eyes.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You wake up with your whole body feeling sore and drained of energy. You're noticeably alone, but you can hear the hushed voices of your lovers. You roll over to see them standing by the window, engrossed in conversation. Shanks is tucking Buggy's hair behind his ear, and Buggy looks like he’s been crying. You can’t see Shanks’ face, but imagine his expression must be similar.

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, sitting up. Both men turn to you, looking startled. They hadn’t expected you to be awake yet. Buggy quickly wipes his tears, and Shanks wanders to the bed, sitting beside you.

“We were just clearing the air. You know that a lot happened between us, and Buggy and I were just working out our share of issues so that we could move forward with each other,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead and lips. Buggy hasn’t moved from his place by the window. “How are you feeling?” he asks, voice soft and deep.

“I’m okay. I feel sore, though,” you say, pouting at the two men who are the cause of your physical exhaustion. They both smirk at your pouty face, knowing damn well that you had asked them to wreck you.

“That's cute, baby. I didn’t mean that, though. I meant, how do you feel about our relationship?” Shanks clarifies. He calls Buggy to come and sit down with the two of you.

“I want to be official - no matter what happens, I'll always be yours - but how will it work? If you’re working towards being king of the pirates, you can't keep coming back here, or you’ll make no progress,” you say. Shanks nods, looking towards Buggy. The sombre atmosphere lifts as a smile splits across both of their faces.

“We spoke a bit about that earlier. It won’t be safe for you to stay here. If info about you gets out and other pirates try to go after you, you need to be somewhere we can protect you. So we think it would be good for you to come with one of us.” Buggy says, pausing to gauge your reaction. It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a pirate ship, but you have always been pretty good with a sword. Part of you feels nostalgic about being aboard a pirate ship again. Buggy and Shanks are both emperors so no matter who you went with, you'd be safer.

“If I do go with one of you, then what about the other?” you ask, not wanting anyone to be offended that you didn't pick them.

“Then we’ll keep in touch via den den mushi and letters. I'm sure we’ll also cross paths on some islands,” says Shanks.

“It’s been a long time since I've been part of a pirate crew, but I think I can go back if it means being with you”, you say, finally wearing a smile to match those of the men sitting next to you.

You still have a few days to think over and choose who you go with, so for now, you hold out your hands and insist one of them, who ends up being Buggy, carries you to your bathroom so that you can shower together. Shanks stares at you both with hearts in his eyes, and Buggy whisks you off to the shower.

“C’mon, red-haired, our girl needs us”, he calls from the bathroom, and Shanks appears in the doorframe moments later to see you seated on the counter while Buggy turns on the shower. You’re still naked, having not been clothed after last night, and Shanks walks over to you to stand between your legs. He leans in to press little kisses all over your skin, which you interrupt by pulling him up for a kiss.

“You two better behave in the shower, or I'll kick you out”, you say, gently scolding them for all the work they put your body through the night before. You glare at both of them, and Buggy rolls his eyes, pushing back the shower curtain so Shanks can lift you and place you under the water. Both men join you and are delicate as they wash you. They don't apologise for any marks left on you; they're pretty proud of them, but they leave little kisses on them as a thank you for bringing them back together. You had previously thought you’d been fated to a life behind that bar until the universe got your boys back to you. This feels right; it feels comfortable, and you believe in soulmates more and more as every moment passes.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thanks for reading!!! reblogs/comments are much appreciated! ♡

tag list: @bloodfixnd

pls drop a dm or ask to be added to the taglist (if you to be tagged in one specific character list just let me know!)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

'Blue eyes'

Very rough brushes

finish her! a toji fushiguro oneshot

pairing ⸺ wrestler!toji x reader

summary ⸺ you will have to face one of the most formidable wrestlers in history in your next match: toji fushiguro. but don't be confused, this isn't normal wrestling⸺no, it's nude wrestling. and winner gets the spoils of the other's body! (extended ver of my toji drabble here)

warnings ⸺ nasty, NASTY smut, VERY public sex, WWE but pornhub edition, you’re a wrestler fighting toji, so some violence but nothing graphic, fem!reader, HUMILIATION, degradation, you're literally fucked in an arena of people, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (f! recieving), boobplay, very inaccurate depiction of wrestling/WWE, not edited we die like toji, pls help me find artist :(

a/n im going to sit in the corner and think about what i just wrote

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

the muffled sounds of the crowd’s deafening roar seem to swirl in the space around you, each cheer vibrating through your chest like distant thunder. you take a long, cool sip of water, a welcome contrast to the warm air backstage. lounging back, you let the chair support your weight, your muscles still humming with the residual tension of anticipation. utahime’s fingers work into your shoulders, and her voice filters through the buzzing atmosphere, calm and steady as she gives you a rundown of the night ahead, though her words seem to blur slightly at the edges—just background noise to the constant hum of adrenaline.

“in front of a crowd—do you understand? and the rules are no fucking, unless all clothes are off first.”

“right,” you affirm, albeit hesitantly. you’re feeling a bit jitterish in anticipation of what’s to happen, despite having trained months to hone your ability as a wrestler. look, wwe itself can get really suggestive at times, with people giving wedgies, removing certain articles of clothing, or even letting the crowd cop a feel of the defeated to serve as humiliation. not only does it improve publicity, but it also increases viewership of all the horny bastards on the internet to circle the televised clip around in their subreddits or discord servers.

but what you were going to do today—that was a bit…extreme. it was like bridging the gap between soft core and hard core, with the humiliation turned up to a hundred. because today, you were going to wrestle the man that all female–and male–wrestlers could even dream of having their hands on, even if for a slight moment.

toji fushiguro.

a man of impressive build—entering a ring with him only meant defeat. he’s had numerous career wins, far exceeding any other. hell, you shouldn’t even be matched to wrestle with him today; he outweighs and outranks you by far. the only thing you really have running for you is the sheer amount of fans you have, ready to tune in to your fights and edit your moves and time spent in the fighting ring to songs like “chun li” and “maneater.” so, sure, you don’t exactly anticipate a win today in that stadium that’s waiting for you, but you’re no less of a wrestler in your own right. you won’t go down without a fight.

however, today was no normal fight. the wwe had suddenly decided that their viewership was too low, that extreme measures needed to be taken to boost. so, ironically enough they had decided to change the rules just before your momentous match:

all wrestlers must consent to having all and any articles of clothing removed from their person, particularly for sexual intercourse as a reward for the winner.

so, WWE (Pornhub’s Version) (In The Vault). 

and your luck dictated that this paradigm shift for the organization occur just before your most anticipated match with toji. again, you knew that no amount of training could prevent you from getting utterly humiliated, but it was almost like the gods were laughing down on you, eager to rub in your impending defeat once more. because you were going to get your shit fucked up—-literally.

“it’s going to be fine,” utahime assures you, and you snap back to the present from your thoughts at the sound of her voice. “just think about the publicity this’ll get you! not that you don’t have any fans of yourself, but there are going to be a lot of people tuned in because of fushiguro.”

you take an inhale in and nod. “yea, that’s true. i just want to get it over with.”

as if answering your prayers, gojo satoru, the mc, burst into your dressing room. “it’s your time to shine, buttercup!” he grins, ushering you out the door. albeit a bit nervously, you stand up and make your way into the hallway that leads directly into the middle of the arena. “you’re going to do great!”

as soon as you walk closer and closer to the arena, the screams get louder and louder, the music booming and causing the floor under you to vibrate. the sounds of people surround all your senses, wrapping you up and causing your heartbeat to go faster and faster. 

reaching the end of the hallway, the arena is filled with light, and you have to blink to get a hold of your sight. surrounding the center boxing ring are stands upon stands of people, hustling and bustling. at the sight of you, cameramen stationed around in various spots through the arena furiously angle their cameras towards you. not only are journalists and the media snapping pictures, blinding you with the flash, but you see yourself displayed on the big screens visible to everyone in the arena. you smile and wave, causing your fans to scream as they register that you have walked in. 

then, a realization washes over you. these are the same screens that are going to be projected whatever's going to happen during the fight and when you lose.

oh god.

you walk forward, trying to keep up your smile and wave to all of your fans that outstretched their hands, trying to cop a feel and/or get a high five. most of your fans are male (to no one's surprise), and you can feel their eyes roving over you appreciatively, taking in your outfit. it was simple and tight; shorts that just barely covered your ass and was snug around your hips, and a low cut top that couldn't even be called a top. your cleavage was on full display, and the top stopped just below your waist. typically, this is your wrestling attire you wear to a normal match, but you couldn't help but wryly notice that today, your neckline was cut lower than usual. the wwe was really trying to milk this, huh?

you stood just below the boxing ring, eyes anxiously scanning the arena, unconsciously searching for the man you were set to fight. but no matter how hard you looked, you couldn't spot his tall, muscular figure either in the ring or in the seat he was supposed to occupy with his manager.

a light tap on your shoulder startled you, and you turned to find utahime behind you, a concerned look on her face. "everything alright?"

"yeah," you said, waving her off with a forced smile. "but where is he?"

utahime pointed toward the boxing ring, and then you saw it—a glimpse of black hair.

"alright," you said, swallowing nervously. "i'm heading into the ring. wish me luck."

"wait!" utahime called out, but you were already too far to hear her. gripping the ropes at the edge of the ring, you hauled yourself up and strode toward the center, determined to get a better view. and there, just on the far side of the ring, hidden from your previous angle, was toji fushiguro.

he was lounging back, relaxed, his posture almost lazy as he faced his manager, shiu kong. you couldn’t see toji's face from this angle, but his body language indicated that he was the epitome of ease. shiu was saying something to him, and from your best attempt at lip reading, you could just make out the words, "don't break the rules today."

toji, on the other hand, didn't seem to be looking at him (giving 0 fucks, something so classically toji), focusing now towards the big screens everyone else saw in the arena. you turned your gaze towards them as well, only to be taken aback when it was you, a compilation of your best moments in the ring, narrated by gojo.

“and today, fellas, we’re going to see the bombshell y/n—the maneater, as coined by her fans—-competing! while her opponent is fushiguro, don’t be fooled—she can pack a mean punch. look at this fight with mei mei; she sweeped the floor with her face!” 

satisfied, you looked around, the arena bustling with people getting drinks, being enraptured with your fight on the screen, or pointing at you or toji. toji, on the other hand, was chuckling and shaking his head at your fight, observing as you gave the bitch mei mei a wedgie. which kind of made you flustered, because you had developed a crush on the guy observing him from afar or in passing, so you just focused on shaking out your legs and arms in nervousness.

gojo similarly announced toji’s fights and compilation, gassing him up for the crowd and it was then that toji finally turned around, uninterested in whatever was going on, and caught your eye. you stared back, breath held involuntarily. 

his eyes had a predatory glint to them, and he smiled, charmingly in a way that showed off his scar, and they scanned up and down your figure, taking in what you were wearing—or rather, letting his imagination run. nervously, your heart sped up as you clenched your thighs up in anticipation or anxiety, you couldn’t choose which, as your mind began running at the speed of light thinking about what was going to happen today.

today, you weren’t only going to wrestle toji fushiguro. you were going to fuck him.

but you’re jolted out of your thoughts as gojo’s obnoxious voice blares through the speakers. “give it up for thee wwe goat, toji fushiguro!”

screams reach an all time high as his smirk is broadcasted to the audience, biceps bulging and flexing as he heaves his way up on the ring, joining you. he waves lazily, roars at an all time high as he stalks his way to you, and you squeeze your nails into your palm out of nervousness.

when gojo announces your name, the male screams rise up in volume, causing you to giggle and fushiguro to roll his eyes from what you can see in the corner of your eye. you give a dainty wave, choosing to wink and blow a kiss to the camera in front of you, causing your fans to scream even louder.

“you sure got a lotta fanboys, darling.” you jump as toji has now bent down to whisper in your ear, literally sending shivers down your spine.

you force out a laugh. “and you're at no shortage of fangirls yourself, fushiguro.”

he gives you a nonchalant hum, assuming his original position. as gojo continued to yap about the stakes of the round today, the recent rule change, a referee walked over to you both, coming in closer so that you would be able to hear him over the chaos of the arena.

“so, you’re both aware of the rules, right?” he both looked at you, to which you nodded and toji’s smirk widens. “you gotta get the other’s clothes completely off, and the first one to do that wins.”

you gulp, eyeing what toji was wearing today. it was his signature garb, the one he wore to almost every match without fail: grey pants with various sponsorships sewed on, and a black compression shirt. it was definitely very minimal compared to what a lot of the other wrestlers wore, but it was iconic, giving him a lazy, laid back aura that no other wrestler could truly emanate.

it wasn’t anything hard to take off in particular.

both of you affirmed your consent to the referee, who then took a step back after wishing you both good luck.  you turned, facing toji face on, who had his hand on his hip. “try to last long, okay?” he smirks, patting your shoulder with his other hand. “i’ll try to drag this out as much as i can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

you glare, but there isn’t much intensity to it because you know he’s much stronger than you. there isn’t much to get angry about. “yea, yea,” you huff. “for all i know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

he barks out a laugh and looks at the referee, who has one hand raised, the other one poised on his whistle, ready to blow and start the round. it’s starting soon. then, he looks back to you and smiles. “let the games begin.”

the referee blows the whistle.

at once, you launch yourself towards toji, trying to jump on him to get him off his feet with your weight. instead, he dodges easily and leaves you hurtling towards the floor, making you poise yourself on your hands and feet upon impact. you roll over just as toji tries to tackle you and pin you against your original position on the floor and quickly get up.

however, as you’re steadying yourself on your feet, toji grabs your ankle, causing you to lose your balance and giving him the advantage to pin himself on top of you, his mouth breathing heavily next to your ear, whispering so it was just the two of you that could hear his words. “what do you think i should take off first?” he laughs deeply, the vibration causing you to shiver and try to squirm to get out of his hold, to no avail. “should it be these?” he snakes his hands down to grope your tits, giving them a firm squeeze, much to the arena’s pleasure. “or should i take these off of you?” he slaps your ass, making you blush furiously.

“fuck you,” you hiss as his hands catch on the edge of your shorts.

he gives you a sweet, small kiss on your temple. “don’t worry, baby,” he smiles. “you’ll be doing that anyways.” and with that, he pulls at your shorts until the waistband’s elastic rips, leaving your shorts in tatters until he throws the remains of it away, baring your panty-covered ass to the crowd, which immediately grows wild.

you crane your neck to look at the screen, which is currently focused on toji’s hands feeling up your ass, dipping inside your underwear to knead the flesh. your heart is pounding, the thought i need to get the upper hand flashing continuously across your mind. it’s almost as if you’re drowning, the noises of the crowd blurring together until it was only you and toji’s weight on you. you barely heard the announcer exclaim, “toji is currently in the lead!” as you focused on calculating your next move.

it was time to pull out all the stops. 

turning your head until you were making eye contact with him, you bit your lip, momentarily distracted him with the 180 turn of your actions, now nonchalant rather than the flailing you were doing earlier. then, you raised your hips, meeting your backside with his crotch in an effort to catch him off guard and to make him lose balance. then, you maneuvered yourself so your thighs surround toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. this momentarily distracted and weakened toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. you quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. the whole stadium, in fact, can see his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

smirking while peering down at him, you slowly grind your hips as if you were riding a mechanical bull, making a show of spinning around his shirt with your hand to mock him. toji’s eyes darken, but a mirthless smile flashes across his face anyways. “damn, take me out to dinner first.”

you flash him one of your own humorless smirks, happy that you got at least one thing against him. “i don’t fuck anyone before the first day, honey. this is just another cheap fuck.” with that, you yank his head back with his hair roughly, making a show of motorboating his pecs, as if to mock him.

instead of getting angry, he chuckles darkly. “you’re going to regret that. i was going to drag this out, princess, but i gotta fuck the brat out of you.” with that, he spins you around just as quickly—if not quicker—pinning you against the ground with your hands held above your head in one hand in a vice grip, the other groping its way down your body. he buries his face in your neck, salaciously licking the length of it. with his free hand—now stationed around your tits—he grabs at the hem of your top, pulling it up so everyone could see your lace bra. mockingly, he plants his face in the middle of your tits, moving his head side by side to motorboat you just as you had done to him, the soft plush of your tits encompassing his face.

the crowd cheers, even more so than they had when you had ripped his shirt off, as toji completely rips the top off as you squirm, making the removal even easier for him. you can feel all eyes on you as toji reaches for the clip of your bra, unhooking it and making your tits pop out. helplessly, you look at the screen, your writhing making them move in a jiggling motion, sweat shining and giving you the “oiled-up” look. he takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “what a sensitive girl,” he coos. “too bad she was too weak. now she’s going to have to take my cock.”

with that, he teasingly closes the distance between the waistband of your panties and his teeth, mouth snagging on the elastic. slowly, he drags them down, unveiling your glistening pussy for all eyes to see, and the crowd goes wild, chanting random requests at toji to do the most heinous things to you. as soon as you’re completely naked, he grabs you by the waist, propping you up against one of the corner posts. you’re now standing up, tearfully facing the arena as the wrestler kneels behind you, burying his face and nosing his way until your pussy, lapping up your wetness.

at the unexpected feeling of his tongue, you yelp, and toji slaps your ass. “stay still.” acquiescing, he licks up long stripes and shakes his head to grind his nose into your cunt, pleasuring you while humiliating you in front of everyone, forcing you to succumb to the pleasure he’s making you feel. while licking you, he groans. “fuck, this pussy is so sweet. i’ve run out of patience, fuck the performance part.”

with that, toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees on the floor and pulls down his pants. you don’t even look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs. 

he drags his cock teasingly through your folds, and then brings it out to slap it against your ass, humming appreciatively at the recoil. then, as if he’s lost patience, he’s slowly entering you, pushing against your pussy’s resistance as he penetrates you in front of the whole arena. “fuck!” he groans, getting a better grip on you as he pushes your head down on the mat and fully goes to pound town.  

the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “the fuck this pussy’s so tight for? thought you were a slut?”

you’re tearing up, the feeling of his dick hitting your g-spot straight on making you clench hard, overwhelmed by the feeling of him pummeling you and his hands on your body, feeling you up. clearly, he knew how to pleasure a woman, and it made you all the more annoyed. you were fucked out, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “you’re not turning me on, small dick.”

he did not like that very much.

toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? why is she dripping, you whore?” as if to demonstrate his point, he brings his fingers to rub at your clit furiously, collecting the wetness that had dripped down from your hole then shoving his fingers into your mouth. “suck.” when you did just that, suckling at his fingers while hollowing your hot, wet heat around the appendages. 

at that, he groaned. “what a little cockwhore. shoulda made you suck my dick instead.”

in retaliation, you bite his fingers, hard, and then spit them out. “i would’ve bit your micro off.”

toji hisses, grabbing the hair at your scalp and pulling on it until your face was up, his mouth at your ear. “just for that, i’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.” he speeds up, moving his hips faster and fast. the hand that wasn’t at your hair is now sneaking his way down your back, until you gasp.

because he’s inserted his thumb inside your ass.

“oh, ho ho,” he laughs mockingly. “you liked that, didn’t you?” you offer him no response, choosing instead to focus on the feeling of the sheer amount of pressure you were feeling down there, being doubly stuffed. by now, your orgasm has been steadily building because of the sheer power of toji’s stroke game, but as soon as he hits your spot one last time, your eyes roll back, causing you to arch your back and writhe due to the intensity of your orgasm.

you’re breathing heavily, toji fucking you roughly through it. once you’ve gotten a hold of your sense, you come back to reality as you realize that the crowd has adopted a rhythm to their chants, your fans and his screaming the same thing.

cum! cum! cum!

and toji only chortles as he continues your thirst, looking at you once again, and you can tell that he’s staving his orgasm back just after experiencing your clenches with the way he’s biting his lips, sweat running down from his temple to his abs. “what do you say, baby? wanna give the crowd what they’re asking for?” 

all it takes is a whimpered please, and toji just does what the crowd asks of him. ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear toji declared as winner. 

as you exhaustedly lift your head up, you see that cameras are out all around you, focused on the screen. you’re flustered when you realize the billboard is displaying toji’s cum seeping out of you.

A hand on your shoulder. “you good?” toji’s looking at you, eyes twinkling.

you let out a breath. “yea,” you laugh, out of breath. “good round.”

and he’s huffing, giving you a hand to get on your back. you can only lie on the ground as he barks for clothes to be put on you and for some water. then he turns to look at you once more, eyes twinkling. “wanna go for more in my hotel?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n i was going to have him carry u up near to the stands where your fans could grab at ur titties but this is alr depraved as it is. now im going to take a breather from tumblr for the rest of this week becasue WHEW ch5 gojo yesterday and finished this today i am ON A ROLL. see you guys for next week's kinktober fic (comment if you want to be tagged)! much love<3

reblog and comments are much appreciated!!!!!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk

Baji Keisuke

May the heroes we loved be forever remembered

I have a sudden urge to go ballistic after this one 😭🙏🏻

Rules {Part Five}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Five

It was never a good idea, falling in love with the enemy. But how were you supposed to know how it would all end up?

♡♡ THANK YOU so much for all the love for this series!!! I had so much fun reading all your comments and inbox messages. Enjoy! and please don't hate me for the ending...♡♡

10.7k words {sorry not sorry} - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, smuttttt, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, secret affair, forbidden romance, KLAUS, a little Katherine cameo, ritual sacrifice, death, murder, pain, pain and more pain...

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!

If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123

Information, of all things of value in this world, is most precious. Katherine had learned that the hardest of ways.

She had been trying to keep tabs on everyone, especially the Salvatore brothers, who were the cause of her most recent headaches. Dwelling on the irony of that made her skin itch, considering the amount of time she had spent causing them grief.

She was sipping on a glass of bourbon, trying not to think about how her plans were crumbling. She hoped to charm Elijah, get him to protect her like he did last time.

But when he found her, he wasn't the same. He didn't have the same softness about him, the gentleness in his eyes. He was harder, angrier, more ruthless. She supposed that was her fault, she wondered how her life would have turned out had she trusted him...

She didn't regret her choice, she knew it was worth it, she always chose her freedom first, nothing else mattered. 

And she had almost gotten away, if only she had a little more information.

But now, here she was, back under the thumb of the man who had taken everything from her.

Klaus.

"Please, just...kill me. I've told you everything that I know," she pleaded, not sure why she was bothering.

He never showed her mercy, but she couldn't help but hope he would spare her, if not for old times sake.

"You see, I believe that you believe that, but what would you not know? What could they be keeping from you? Hmm? Anything? Tell me." He said, his voice was calm as he compelled her to speak the truth.

"When I was at the Salvatore house, I saw their sister, drugged and unconscious. They were keeping her that way,"she said, her voice trembling, she couldn't control the words that came out.

Klaus smiled, the wheels turning in his mind, "Any theories on why they would do that to her?"

Katherine had an idea, but she had no proof. She had no idea what Damon was up to, but he always had a plan.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, she didn't like where this was going.

"C'mon, you have always been a clever little minx," Klaus purred, his hand coming up to caress her cheek, it made her feel sick. 

"The only reason I can think of is to stop her from doing something," Katherine said, her mind racing, thinking back to everything she had seen, and the things she had missed.

Klaus grinned, his hand moving down to her throat, he began squeezing the air out of her.

"You can detect weaknesses like a bloodhound can sniff out a fox, so tell me, sweetheart. Is this your best guess or are you holding something back?" He asked, his fingers tightening.

She struggled, clawing at his arm, desperately trying to loosen his grip. "She's... Loyal to a fault, to those she loves, she tried to kill me in the 1800s for messing with her brothers,"

He raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of amusement, "So you think she's shifted loyalties? To whom?" He let go of her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, coughing and wheezing.

"I don't know... The only other players in town are the wolves... There's no reason for her to side with them..." She paused, her mind racing.

"There's only one other option," she said, her face contorting into a grin.

"Who?" Klaus growled, his patience was growing thin.

"Elijah.”

You woke in a strange daze, unsure of how much time had passed. You didn't feel rested, in fact, you felt sluggish.

You sighed softly, trying to gather your strength. Your mind was slightly hazy and you felt hungover. Your limbs were not responding to your commands, causing you even more panic.

Your eyes finally opened, adjusting to the light. You were in your own bedroom, laying on your bed, the soft hum of your ceiling fan was the only thing you could hear.

You had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you slowly looked around. There was a pile of empty blood bags on your nightstand, a cup full of vervain, and a half-empty bottle of bourbon. It was clear that someone had been here taking care of you and keeping you sedated, judging by the empty bottle it was most likely Damon.

You rolled out of bed, stumbling across the room. Your legs were weak, and you were still groggy. You managed to make it to the door and pull it open.

It was eerily quiet, the ticking clock in the hallway was pounding in your ears. You walked towards the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall, hoping to make it all the way down without falling.

As soon as you made it to the bottom, you were overcome with a wave of nausea and dizziness. You grabbed the banister, closing your eyes, waiting for the spell to pass.

Fuzzy, half formed memories came flooding back to you. Elijah was gone, your brothers had stabbed him, and then they had drugged you, so you couldn't wake him.

You remembered Damon coming into your room, holding a blood bag up to your lips, forcing you to drink.

You remembered Stefan, sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair off your forehead, telling you to sleep.

You remembered Elena, cleaning your face, her voice low and gentle, she had been crying, apologizing.

Someone had carried you outside, then Elena invited you back in. The house was under her name now, a new defense measure added. You wondered who they were trying to keep out, had Klaus finally come to town? Fear suddenly gripped you... Where was everyone?

You slowly made your way to the basement door, taking the steps one at a time, trying to ignore the overwhelming need to puke.

Once you were down in the basement, you looked at Elijah's body, lying in the same position you left him. His clothes were now charred and tattered, the pillow and blanket were gone, probably burned to ash.

You moved closer, collapsing on the floor next to his body. He looked the same, gray, his eyes closed, his hair in disarray. You brushed his hair back, leaning down and kissing his forehead.

"lijah," you whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. "I know we agreed, if anything happens, we would say goodbye and walk away, but I can't, not this time. You're a part of me, I don't think you even realize how much you have come to mean to me."

You looked at the dagger in his chest, weighing the consequences of pulling it out. You didn't know what would happen if he woke up, he could rip you to shreds, or he could pull you into his arms, and hold you until you stopped crying.

There was a fifty-fifty chance he would do the latter, and that was good enough for you. Your fingers curled around the blade and you pulled it out. Then you dropped it onto the floor, letting it land with a metallic thud.

Nothing happened.

Elijah was still.

You leaned down and pressed your ear to his chest, listening.

Nothing.

"Please," you said softly, kissing his cold cheek. "Please wake up."

You returned to laying your head on his chest, your fingers curling in the fabric of his suit.

You closed your eyes, tears running down your face, holding in a breath. Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Suddenly, his heart sprung to life, beating rapidly. You sat up quickly, looking down at him, his eyes were open.

You could hardly believe it, he was looking up at the ceiling, his chest heaving, his mouth open. Then he sat up, gasping for air, looking around the basement wildly.

He was in clear agony, struggling to breathe, he looked at you with anguished eyes, the color returning to his face.

"I can't...I can't be in this house." He rushed to his feet, falling over himself, stumbling his way to the exit.

You limped out of the basement and upstairs, racing after him. The moment he got outside, he collapsed on his knees, taking in deep breaths.

You knelt in front of him, safe behind the threshold of the doorway.

"I'm so sorry," You said, your voice shaking. "I had no idea. They drugged me and I couldn't..."

"Y/n," He interrupted, his eyes finding yours, they were full of pain. "I...need a moment,"

You nodded, holding back tears that were threatening to spill. He looked awful, his clothes were ruined, and his skin was gray and dull. He was clearly starving.

You took the dagger and rolled it past the threshold, it hit his knee and he grabbed it, holding it in his hand. He glared at the blade, then looked up at you.

"Thank you," he said, his expression softening. "So much for rule three,"

"You would have done the same for me," you replied, a hint of a smile on your lips.

He slowly got to his feet, his skin still a bit gray, his face tired and worn. He held his hand out, inviting you to step over the threshold, which you did, allowing him to pull you into his arms.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the embrace, your arms wrapped around his neck, you buried your face into his shoulder.

"This is a bad idea," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"I know," you said, squeezing him tightly.

He didn't respond, simply holding you against him, his breathing steadying.

"Do you want to get out of here?" You asked, looking up at him, a sad expression on his face.

"That is an excellent idea,"

Your phone would not stop ringing.

You had been ignoring it for the last few hours. Elijah had taken you to a luxury hotel the next town over, far enough from Mystic Falls so you didn't have to worry about anyone showing up unexpectedly.

You were sitting on the bed, eating some room service, watching him try on some suits he had compelled the concierge to bring to the room.

"Who keeps calling?" Elijah asked, looking at you over his shoulder, buttoning a shirt.

"Damon and Stefan," You replied, sighing, "they are probably worried."

"Why haven't you answered?" He asked, frowning.

"Because... I'm mad at them," You admitted, picking at the food on your plate. "After what they did to me,"

"They were protecting themselves, and you," he said softly, putting his suit jacket on, and smoothing it.

You were surprised by him defending them, considering they had literally killed him.

"It doesn't matter, I can't face them right now," you said, shaking your head, "I'll just ignore their calls, it's the best I can do."

A text from Damon popped up on your screen, in full capital letters, it read:

‘WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! ANSWER YOUR PHONE.’

You grumbled and picked your phone up, ready to block him when you got another text. This one was from Stefan:

‘Klaus is in town, in Alaric's body. Please just let us know you are okay,’

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, staring at the message.

Elijah had been looking at you and saw your reaction, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, maybe nothing," you said, showing him your phone, his face darkening when he saw the texts.

He looked at you for a long moment, like he was contemplating his next words very carefully.

"What?" You asked, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can't do this," he said, shaking his head. "It's too dangerous."

"What?" You said again, standing up and walking over to him.

You placed your hands on his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. He was avoiding your gaze, but his arms moved around your waist, pulling you against him.

"What's wrong?" You asked, searching his face, but he still wouldn't look at you.

"Rule two, darling," he said softly, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands caressing your back.

"Don't do that," you said, your voice breaking, your chest ached, you were holding back tears. "I don't care about the rules, I just want you,"

"You don't know what you're asking for," he said, his breath hitching, his voice low. "If Klaus finds out about you and I, he will kill you,"

"Why? Why do you want to kill him? Who is he to you?" You asked, wanting answers, your hands curled into fists on his chest.

"I've known him since I was a child, he's my brother," he said, pulling back, so he could look you in the eyes.

You blinked, not believing what he was saying.

"But..." you stammered, not sure what to say.

He swallowed hard and began telling you all about his life. His family, what life was like in the viking age, being turned vampire, learning his mother had been unfaithful, that his beloved brother was a bastard.

"I never saw him any different, none of our siblings did," he said, his voice wavering.

You could tell this was a difficult subject, you squeezed his hand, reminding him that you were there.

"We learned of our mother's infidelity in the worst way possible..." He trailed off, his voice shaking.

"You don't have to," you said, scooting closer, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head against yours, his fingers stroking your arm. "I've done many terrible things, but what plagues me the most is what I did to Niklaus,"

"What did you do?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him, his brown eyes were watery.

He shook his head, unable to vocalize it, and you didn't push him. You held him, waiting, knowing it would take time.

He eventually continued, his voice low, filled with shame. "My mother was a powerful witch, she cursed him. She bound his werewolf side, made him weaker, unable to turn. She used the full moon to make it possible to break the curse."

You frowned, thinking over what he was telling you. It didn't make any sense, Klaus was a vampire, not a werewolf.

"I thought..." you said, hesitating. "I thought he was a vampire,"

"He is," Elijah said, nodding, "he's also a werewolf, but that side of him bound,"

He continued his story, explaining how Klaus was different, that he was a hybrid. The first and only of his kind, half vampire, half werewolf.

He told you how Klaus was angry and resentful, and that he had good reason to be. That he and Klaus had spent many centuries trying to break his curse, to free him from his chains.

"So the ritual isn't about werewolves or vampires being freed from their curses," You said, the realization hitting you.

"No, it's not," He admitted, frowning. "It's about my brother,"

You were quiet for a long time, processing all of the information. So Klaus had no intention of freeing the werewolves or the vampires, he just wanted to be free.

"So why do you want to kill him?" You asked, looking at Elijah.

He sighed, rubbing his face, clearly struggling.

"I have other siblings, and he took them from me," He said, his tone was strained, the words catching in his throat. "I've searched for decades, and I can't find them,"

You squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.

"I've lost all hope of ever finding them," he said, his jaw clenching, he looked at you with his dark tear filled eyes. "All I have now is my revenge,"

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. If you lost your brothers, you would burn the world down to avenge them.

"What is the ritual supposed to do?" You asked, curious, wanting to learn more.

"He has to kill a werewolf, a vampire, and a doppelganger. Their blood is necessary for the ritual," he explained, his fingers gently running along your arm. "When it's complete he will be weakened, then I will kill him."

"Elena is innocent... Elijah I'm sorry but you can't let him hurt her," you said, frowning.

He looked away from you, his brow furrowing, "She has to die, but not permanently,"

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused.

"A few centuries ago, there was another doppelganger, I grew some affections for her... I found a way to keep her alive," he said, his tone was flat.

"Katherine," you said, the name leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

He nodded, "I will give Elena the elixir I acquired for Katerina. It will save her,"

You let out a sigh of relief, at least Elena would be safe.

"To kill your brother, it's not an easy thing to do," You said, leaning your head against his. "Are you really prepared for what it means?"

"The full moon is in three days," He said, changing the subject, his expression was grim. "The ritual will happen then,"

"Yes," he said, without a moment of hesitation.

You sat in silence, neither of you knew what to say.

"Sometimes there's honor in revenge," he said, his hand resting on your leg. "And sometimes you just need to put down a rabid dog, no matter how much you once loved him."

"Eli-," You started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours.

You melted against him, forgetting what you were about to say. He had this way of silencing you, and it drove you crazy.

"No more talk of the ritual," he said, his fingers gently brushing over your cheek, his eyes gazing into yours. "I want to enjoy the time we have left,"

You didn't know what to say, so you nodded, and he kissed you again.

Elijah watched you sleep, the sheet barely covering your naked body. His fingers traced patterns along your skin, his touch light as a feather.

He was trying to ignore the dread, the sinking feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach.He needed to plan, to prepare for what he had to do, but the only thing on his mind was you.

He should have known better, he was foolish to have ever gotten involved with you. When he came to Mystic Falls he told himself no weaknesses, no distractions, and yet here you were.

"Stop watching me, it's creepy," you mumbled, rolling over, the sheet falling off of you, revealing your naked form.

"Apologies," he said, unable to help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

"I forgive you, I know I'm irresistible," you said, yawning, stretching, your body arching.

He chuckled, leaning over, kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, "If I asked you to do something, would you do it?"

You gave him a curious look, your fingers tangling in his hair, "That depends,"

"Would you stay here, and not interfere with the ritual?" He asked, his brow furrowing, his tone was strained.

"Elijah-," You said, sitting up, the sheets pooling around your waist.

"Please," he begged, his eyes softening.

"But Elena-," You tried to protest, but he cut you off with a kiss, his hands cupping your face.

"Your brothers will keep her safe, but if you were involved... I would lose my mind with worry," he admitted, his eyes filled with turmoil.

"I thought this was just physical?" You teased, hoping to ease the tension.

He smiled and shook his head, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I love you," he said it so softly you barely heard it, his voice cracking.

You looked at him, searching his face for any signs of a lie, but there was none. He wasn't lying, he was telling the truth, the sincerity in his words and his eyes was evident.

Your words caught in your throat, a lump forming. You couldn't bring yourself to say it, you wanted to, but it was like there was a block.

You pressed your lips to his, your tongue sliding past his lips, kissing him deeply, trying to pour all of your emotions into it.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing your jaw, "Say it,"

"I can't," You whispered, your voice wavering.

He tilted your chin up, his dark eyes meeting yours. "I love you miss Salvatore, and it frightens me more than anything ever has,"

"Elijah," you said, cupping his face, your heart aching. "I... I love you too,"

He pulled you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You were panting, the kiss was heated, needy, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You felt his erection against your inner thigh, hard and ready, and you ground against it.

"I love you," you repeated, his hands grabbing your ass, pulling you closer.

"I love you," he replied, his lips attacking your neck, sucking, biting, marking you as his.

You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his length, sliding your hand along his shaft, positioning him at your entrance.

You lowered yourself down, desperately needing to feel connected to him, his fingers dug into your hips as you sat fully in his lap, taking him deep inside of you.

He moaned, his eyes closing, his head tilting back, you leaned forward and kissed his neck, your fangs scraping along his skin.

You rolled your hips, slowly, taking him in and out of you, his breath hitching with each movement. You grinned against his skin, loving how you were making him react.

"That's it, take what you need," he said, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, keeping you close to him.

"I love you," you breathed, your voice a soft whimper, as you sunk your fangs into his neck.

His blood flooded your mouth, warm and sweet, and you sucked, feeling his pulse beating against your lips. He tasted like pure power, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

He moaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, gripping it tight. You were riding him, moving your hips in a fluid motion, grinding down onto him, feeling his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside.

You pulled back, his blood dripping from your lips, his hands were on your ass, guiding your hips. He kissed you, biting down on your bottom lip and tasting you. Your blood mixing together, it was the most erotic thing you had ever done.

"That's my girl," he whispered, his voice ragged, his eyes dark with lust. "So beautiful, and mine,"

"Yes, all yours," you moaned, grinding down harder onto him.

You felt his hand moving between your ass cheeks, his finger finding your puckered hole, slowly pressing into you.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, it felt so good, him inside of you like this.

"I want you to cum for me, my sweet little love," he said, his voice soft and gentle, his finger moving deeper.

You moaned, clutching at his chest, your nails raking along his skin, drawing blood. The combination of him filling you, his finger, and the taste of his blood in your mouth sent you over the edge.

You let out a long, low moan, against his lips, your walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he had.

He grunted, his eyes fluttering closed, he bit his lip, trying to muffle his moans, and he came deep inside of you.

Your body was trembling, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, his skin slick with sweat, the smell of sex and blood hung heavy in the air.

You pulled back and kissed him, his hand cupping the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"After this is all over, will you come with me?" He asked, his hand stroking your cheek.

"Where would we go?" You asked, smiling.

"Anywhere, preferably somewhere with a beach and sunshine," he replied, his fingers running through your hair.

"It's a date," you said, nuzzling his neck, breathing in his scent.

"A date?" He chuckled, his fingers tickling your sides, you giggled and squirmed away from him. "That's new for us,"

You grinned, looking down at him. "I like the sound of it,"

"As do I," he agreed, his hand stroking your cheek.

"When I first met you, I never would've thought we'd end up here," you mused, running your fingers along his jaw.

"Neither did I," he admitted, his lips turning up into a small smile.

"So, tell me about this beach trip, what would we do?" You asked, wanting to keep him talking, not wanting to leave his side.

"Hmmm," he said, thinking for a moment. "I would find us a quiet little bungalow, right on the water, with a private stretch of sand for us,"

You closed your eyes, listening to the smooth timber of his voice, imagining the soft waves and fresh ocean air.

"And we'd have our meals brought in by servants, we'd lounge on the beach, swim, and make love whenever the mood struck us," he said, his fingers dancing across your back.

"I could live with that," you said, sighing contently, enjoying his warmth.

"I'm glad," he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, a soft, gentle kiss.

You broke the kiss and stared into his dark eyes, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

"If anything happens to me I want you to know, I don't regret a single second of it," he said, his voice soft.

"What?" You asked, giving him a worried look.

"You need to know, in case I fail, and my brother ends me before I can end him," he said, his face serious, his eyes clouded with fear.

"Elijah-," you started to protest, but he cut you off.

"Promise me," he said, his voice pleading. "If this ends badly, you will remember rule three,"

"I thought we had given up on the rules," you said, trying not to let him see how afraid you were.

"Not this one," he said, his voice cracking.

"Why? You can't seriously expect me to-"

"Please," he said, his dark eyes locked on yours. "For me,"

You sighed and nodded, leaning into him, his arms wrapping around you.

"Thank you," he whispered, his fingers stroking your back, his lips brushing against your hair.

"Just come back to me," you said, trying not to cry.

"Always,”

The problem, Damon: you talk a good game but you don't actually know anything. She'll never forgive you. And never for a vampire...It's a very long time.

Elijah's words had been echoing around in Damon's head since that morning, the smugness in the older vampire's voice made him want to put his fist through the wall.

He had made a mess of things, but he couldn't admit that to anyone. The feeling he had when he learned that today was the day of the sacrifice, the day that he would lose Elena... He simply couldn't handle it. His desire for action was overwhelming.

He didn't like everything being out of his control, so he did what he had to do. And now his brother and Elena hated him. Elijah being right was the cherry on top of his shit sundae. 

In times like this, when he hit rock bottom then fell a little further, he turned to his oldest friend, his closest confidant, his beloved sister. 

But you weren't picking up the phone, despite Elijah's assurances you were alive and somewhere safe, it didn't soothe his worries.

So he tried one last time, and this time you actually picked up, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heard your voice.

"If you are calling to lecture me on love, I will remind you that you are no better," your voice made his throat constrict.

"I know, I'm not," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

"Are you okay?" You asked, a little softer.

"No," he answered, his voice shaking.

"What happened?" You asked, concern creeping into your tone.

"Everything's gone to hell," he replied, his voice strained. "I gave Elena my blood... Well actually I made her drink my blood,"

"Oh Damon..."

"I had no other choice,"

"She's going to hate you,"

"I know, Elijah told me,"

"Damon... He's right,"

"I know that too,"

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, he could hear you moving around, like you were packing a bag.

"I'm on my way," you said, finally. "Partly to kick your ass, partly to give you a hug,"

"Always the multitasker," he joked, his voice cracking. "But do not come home tonight, I just need to know you are safe,"

"I'll do what I want," you said, and he could almost see the pout on your lips.

He smiled, he had missed your stubbornness, and it was the closest thing to normal he had felt all day. But he couldn't risk you being involved, everyone was already in the crossfire, and the thought of you being added to that mix was too much for him to bear.

"Sister," he said, his voice firm. "Please, please, listen to me, just this once, and stay away,"

You let out a long, irritated sigh, "I'm so bored, and I'm getting hungry,"

"Well then go find someone nice to eat and watch a movie," he suggested, chuckling.

"I can't concentrate, not when everyone I love is in danger," you grumbled.

"Does that love extend to Elijah?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Yes," you said simply, and his heart ached.

He had known, of course, but hearing you say it aloud made it real.

"Why him? Like seriously..." Damon asked, he was genuinely curious, and he needed something to distract him from the shit show he had gotten himself into. "How did you even meet him?"

"I was hunting," you answered, sounding amused. "He found my methods to be entertaining, and I found him to be a challenge,"

"Did you know who he was? What he planned for Elena?" Damon asked, trying not to sound judgemental.

"Yes, I knew who he was. But we had rules, to keep things from getting complicated," you explained.

"That didn't really work out did it?" He teased, smiling.

"No," you admitted, laughing.

There was a long pause, and he could feel his emotions starting to get the best of him.

"Damon, promise me you won't die for her?" You asked, your voice wavering.

"You know I can't do that," he said, his voice low.

"I know," you whispered. "Just please, try to survive this,"

"I'll do my best," he promised, knowing he couldn't really promise anything.

"I love you big brother," you said, and his eyes started to water. "Tell Stefan I love him too,"

"I will, I love you too," he choked out, and he heard the line go dead.

Damon stared at his phone, the picture of you, him and Stefan was staring back at him, his heart aching.

"I hope I see you tomorrow, little sis,"

The town you were hiding out in was quiet and a little boring, but you didn't mind. It was the first time in a long time you had had a few days to yourself, no drama, no life or death situations. Just perfect mundanity.

You were lounging in a café, enjoying a cup of coffee, and watching the locals, wondering what their lives were like. You envied them, their simplicity, their happiness. You imagined you and Elijah in a little house, in a place like this, with a garden and a view of the ocean.

You were lost in your own world, dreaming about the impossible, when someone cleared their throat. You looked up, a smile playing at your lips. Dinner had just arrived. 

He was handsome, with curly hair and blue eyes, he had a sharp wicked glint in his eyes that sent a thrill through you. You always enjoyed a good meal with a bit of bite.

"Mind if I sit?" He asked, grinning.

"Not at all," you purred, gesturing to the chair.

He sat, and ordered a coffee, and he turned his attention back to you.

"I don't mean to be so forward, but you are downright striking," he said, his gaze running over your body.

"Thank you," you said, giving him a flirty smile. "It's a bit of a family trait,"

"Is that so? Mine as well, if you can't tell," he said, smiling.

You laughed, enjoying his company.

"You aren't from around here," he observed, sipping his coffee.

"Neither are you," you said, tilting your head.

"I'm just visiting, on vacation," he replied, grinning.

"Same,"

He was charming, and handsome, and you could feel the hunger starting to rise within you.

"I'm staying at the Inn down the street," he said, giving you a hopeful look.

"I'm staying there as well,"

"Well then, may I escort you home?"

"You may,"

The walk back to the Inn was short, you enjoyed his company, he was easy to talk to, and funny.

"Would you like a nightcap?" He asked, flashing you a crooked smile.

"That would be lovely," you said, grinning.

His hand came to rest on the small of your back, guiding you into the room. You usually enjoyed playing with your food a little before you ate, but you were committed to Elijah now, and you didn't want to stray.

As soon as you entered his room, he pinned you to the wall, moving in to kiss you. You politely dodged by pressing your lips to his neck, breathing him in.

"You are a vision," he said, his hand sliding up your arm, and into your hair.

"Thank you," you murmured, your fangs grazing his skin, his pulse racing beneath your lips.

He moaned, and gripped your waist, pressing his hips against yours. You could feel him, hard against your thigh, and you went to bite down.

Suddenly, he pulled your head back by your hair, hard. With strength you hadn't expected, he forced you back, pushing you hard into the wall, the plaster cracking behind you.

"I see why my brother is so taken," he growled, his eyes darkening.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, "Klaus,"

"The one and only, love," he said, smirking.

You tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too strong.

"Don't worry, love," he purred, his hand stroking your cheek. "I won't hurt you,"

"Fuck you," you said, glaring at him.

He smirked, and kissed you, hard, his teeth cutting into your lips.

"You're a feisty little thing," he said, licking his lips. "Even wilder than your brothers,"

You hissed and tried to struggle, his hands tightening around your arms, digging into your skin. "If you hurt them..."

"Now, now," he said, tutting. "Let's not make threats, especially when you can't back them up,"

You bared your fangs at him, but he only grinned.

"I've been wanting to meet you," he said, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "Elijah's little distraction,"

"I'm more than a distraction," you growled, struggling against his hold.

"Hmmm," he hummed, leaning in and nuzzling your neck. "I know,"

You were too frightened to speak, your whole body trembling.

"It's what I'm counting on dear,"

Klaus had been dragging you through the woods for what felt like hours.

Your fear had turned into anger and you began to try and fight him. It seemed to amuse him for a while, he'd let you run only to catch you with ease.

"Why are you doing this?" You growled, his hand holding your arm tightly, leading you through the trees.

"To be reborn, as I truly am," he said, his expression thoughtful.

You rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh, he was a narcissist, the kind of man who enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" He asked, looking down at you. "One thousand years,"

 "I know," you sighed.

"Of course you do," he said, smirking. "Elijah loves to spill his heart out after a good bedding doesn't he?"

You didn't answer him, he was trying to get under your skin, and it was working.

"My brother has always been the strong, self righteous type, with an unbreakable moral code," Klaus chuckled, picking up his pace, dragging you along. "That is... Until he gets his face between a pretty pair of legs,"

"Fuck you," you spat, anger boiling up inside of you.

"You have a smart mouth," he said, his fingers squeezing your arm. "I think I'll like to see how you use it later,"

You freed yourself from his grip and slapped him hard across the face. No man was allowed to speak to you in that way, and you certainly weren't going to tolerate it from this monster.

His expression changed from amusement to anger in the blink of an eye. He slammed you against a nearby tree, the twigs and branches impaling you.

You cried out, blood pouring from the puncture wounds, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye.

 "That was very, very stupid,"

His words sent a chill down your spine, and a fresh wave of fear washed over you.

"What's the matter?" He asked, his tone taunting. "No more choice words and acts of violence for me?"

"Don't kill me," you said, tears starting to run down your cheeks.

"I won't," he assured you, his lips brushing against yours. "But I will kill everyone in Mystic Falls if you don't do what I say. If you don't believe me... Just ask sweet little Katerina about it,"

Your blood ran cold, you knew what he was capable of, and you had no choice but to obey him.

Through the trees you could see a circle of fire, and you felt dread sink into the pit of your stomach.

"No," you pleaded, trying to pull away.

"Stop being so dramatic, love," he said, rolling his eyes.

He pulled you into the clearing, throwing you down on the ground next to the three women sitting in their own rings of fire.

You could see Elena, a terrified look on her face, along with her aunt Jenna and a woman you didn't recognize.

"Hello my lovelies," Klaus said, grinning. "Are we all ready?"

He gave you a swift kick, then grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. "I brought an assistant with me,"

He pushed you forward, leaving you to stand there as he walked to the altar, handing the moonstone to a witch standing nearby.

You looked at Elena and Jenna, they were beyond scared, their eyes full of tears, and you felt your stomach twist, you didn't know how to help them.

The witch had begun to chant, a mixture of Latin and something else, the moonstone began to spark, then it exploded into nothing.

"Bring me the wolf," Klaus demanded, looking at you with a wild, manic look in his eyes.

You shook your head, your whole body trembling, you refused to let him hurt someone else.

"It's either them or the entire town, love. That includes your brothers," he growled, his jaw clenched.

The thought of losing Stefan and Damon made your stomach clench, and tears started to run down your face.

"Bring her. Now," he growled, his tone brokering no argument.

You walked towards the first ring of fire, to the terrified woman who was writhing in pain, her cries echoing through the trees.

The ring disappeared as you approached, and you lifted the girl into your arms. She was whimpering and shaking, the transition having begun.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, carrying her to the altar.

"Good girl," Klaus hummed, taking the wolf from your arms, and laying her on the stone.

Klaus kneeled over her, looking down at her with an evil grin, his eyes were filled with a mix of desire and madness, and he plunged his hand into her chest, ripping her heart out.

Jenna and Elena screamed, watching Klaus hold up the wolf's heart, his expression triumphant.

"I'll make it quick, I promise," Klaus said, grinning. "They will barely feel a thing,"

You looked over at Elena and Jenna, their screams piercing the air, the witches chanting growing louder.

Elijah was looking up at the night sky, watching the moon slowly make its way across, his thoughts on you. He couldn't stop thinking about your smile, and the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him.

If tonight went smoothly, he had so many plans with you, the first was taking you to Paris, a city that was sure to dazzle you. After that he would whisk you away to Rome, where you could visit the many art museums and eat all the food you wanted.

He wanted to spoil you, shower you with everything you could ever want, and then some. It had been nearly sixty years of searching for his brother, trying to uncover the rest of his family. He felt like tonight was the first chance he had to truly mourn, then he could finally move on and spend the rest of his time with you. 

He had spoken with Stefan earlier, before he left with Bonnie to go stop Klaus. He liked Stefan, he was an honorable man who respected the choices of the ones he loved, even if he didn't agree with them.

Elijah hoped he and Stefan could be friends one day, once everything settled down, he knew that would make you happy. To see peace between him and your brothers. Damon would be a more difficult task, he reminded him of Klaus, cocky and impulsive, and that was a difficult combination.

The waiting was beginning to make him antsy. He had to wait for the right moment to strike, but there were so many factors outside of his control, he didn't like the feeling. He needed to distract himself, keep his mind from wandering too far.

He thought about his siblings, of sweet Rebekah, wild Kol, and serious Finn. What would they think of him killing Klaus? He wished he could have saved them, he wanted so badly to see them again.

He let out a long sigh, steeling himself for what he had to do. Klaus was no longer his brother, he had been twisted into a monster, and he had to be put down.

It was time, he could see the moon hanging high above him, it was time to end this. 

You watched Klaus squeeze the wolf's heart over the altar, the blood dripping into the fire, igniting it.

"Next, the vampire," he said, grinning.

You stood, frozen, watching him, as a wave of guilt crashed over you.

"Bring me Jenna, go on,"

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.

"No," you said in the smallest voice. 

You could hear Jenna and Elena, talking to each other, they were saying their goodbyes and it broke your heart.

Klaus turned, and walked over to you, his eyes were dark and cold, and his jaw was clenched.

"Are you offering yourself in her place then?" He growled, his hand coming up to grab your chin.

You didn't answer him, you were staring over his shoulder at Jenna and Elena.

"I'll take that as a yes,"

You let him drag you to the altar, and push you down onto the cold stone, he forced you to kneel. You didn't fight him, you had lived for many decades longer than sweet Jenna and Elena, the old should always give their lives for the young.

Klaus let out a hearty chuckle and kicked you over, his hand gripping your hair.

"I don't recall you being on the guest list," Klaus yelled, looking into the dark forest. 

You heard the sound of footsteps as someone approached, it was Stefan. His expression was calm, but his eyes were furious.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Salvatore?" Klaus asked, amused.

Stefan looked at you, a concerned look on his face.

"Well, I figured you could start by letting my sister go," Stefan said, his voice firm.

"Hmm," Klaus said, looking down at you. "I don't think I will, she's quite the little spitfire, and I rather enjoy her company,"

"Let her go, I'll take her place," Stefan offered, taking a step forward.

"That's quite noble of you," Klaus said, smiling. "But, I think I'd prefer my original plan. I rather appreciate the symmetry of three women...Three goddesses sacrificed at nature's altar."

He grabbed both you and Stefan and dragged you towards the rings of fire. Throwing you both down next to Elena and Jenna. 

"Quite the predicament. You know, it's funny, all this talk about preserving family, and here's Stefan, granting your wish," Klaus said to Elena, smiling.

Stefan and Elena were looking at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

"Oh, don't look so glum," Klaus said, looking between the two. "There's actually no choice,"

Klaus took a stake and plunged it into Stefan's spine, causing him to yell in pain, unable to move.

You and Elena both screamed, you got to your feet to strike Klaus, but he grabbed you by the throat, squeezing hard.

"Let them go," Elena pleaded, tears running down her cheeks. "I understand that I have to die, but they don't,"

Klaus ignored her and looked into your eyes, his hand tightening around your neck.

"Bring Jenna to the altar, or I'll kill Stefan," he growled, his fingers digging into your skin.

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes, you couldn't lose Stefan.

"Please," you whispered, your hands clawing at his.

He let you go, then walked back to the altar.

"Bring her, now," he ordered, pointing at the ring of fire surrounding Jenna.

You stood, walking slowly over to the fire, the ring disappeared and Jenna looked up at you with tear filled eyes. She looked so afraid, so helpless.

"I'm so sorry," you said, your voice breaking, as you helped her to her feet.

You walked her over to the altar, Klaus waiting patiently.

"Jenna, I'm so sorry," you whispered, your hand brushing the hair from her face.

She was sobbing, her body shaking, and you held her close, stroking her hair.

"Please Klaus, just use me instead, she's innocent," you begged, tears running down your face.

"You Salvatore's are so predictable," Klaus sighed, rolling his eyes.

Klaus walked over, and pulled Jenna from your arms, he threw her down onto the altar. Everything seemed to blur, you could hear Elena screaming, the chants of the witch, the cracking of the fire. You saw Stefan reaching out to Elena through the flames, and then, it was quiet.

Klaus plunged a stake into her heart, Elena's wails were all you could hear. Jenna's lifeless body was lying on the altar, her face frozen in fear. You had brought her to her slaughter. You had killed her.

"Such a wonderful assistant," Klaus cooed, he grabbed your chin, his bloody fingers digging into your skin. "Be a good girl and bring me the doppelganger,"

You looked into his cold eyes, his mouth twisted into a smirk.

"Now," he growled.

You nodded, then walked over to Elena, tears were running down her cheeks, but she put on a brave face as the last ring of fire disappeared.

"Elena," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, your whole body was shaking. "I'm so, so sorry,"

"Don't," she said, her voice shaky. "It's not your fault. It's nice to have a friend here at the end,"

She held your hand as you helped her walk over to Klaus. You looked at Stefan, he was struggling to free himself, his eyes filled with worry.

"Elena," Stefan called, his voice breaking.

"It's okay, Stefan," she said, her grip on your hand tightening. "I'm ready,"

You helped her up onto the altar, and Klaus looked down at her with hungry eyes.

"Thank you Elena," he said softly, pulling her against him and moving her hair away from her neck.

"Go to hell," she said, her voice strong.

He chuckled and sank his fangs into her neck.

Elena didn't fight, she let death take her, her grip loosening on your hand, as her last breath left her.

You were shaking, the sound of Klaus drinking from her filling the silence. You had lost two friends today, and the world was suddenly a lot emptier.

When the last bit of blood left her body, Klaus dropped her to the ground and the fire in the altar went out.

You knelt next to her, brushing her hair away from her face, then you looked back at Stefan who was writhing in pain, crying at the loss of Elena.

Klaus staggered a bit, the full moon peeking out from the trees. He groaned, and started to change, his bones cracking as he stumbled forward, his expression a mask of pure bliss.

"It's happening," he moaned, his eyes turned gold, and he was overcome with pleasure. "I can feel it,"

You couldn't stand this any long, all this pain and death. You needed it to end.

You moved down the steps towards him, grabbing a branch off a nearby tree, snapping it in half.

"Come on, sweetheart," he taunted, turning to look at you, his eyes shining. "I'm indestructible,"

"I don't care," you snarled, lunging for him. "You still feel pain,"

You charged at him, striking him across the face, your rage blinding you, making you miss his fist, as it collided with your stomach.

The blow threw you across the clearing, and you landed on your back, the air leaving your lungs, the branch now lodged in your side. 

You saw Damon come running out of the woods, he first looked to Elena, then to Stefan, but when he laid eyes on you, he ran to your side.

"No, no, no, no," he said, his eyes filled with panic, he pulled the wood from your side. "You're not supposed to be here,"

You could hear the concern in his voice, and you smiled up at him, cupping his face. He helped you to your feet, your wounds healing, then he pushed you behind him.

"Damon," you said softly, trying to stop him.

"Bonnie is here, it's okay, let me handle this," he said, his tone stern.

Klaus was standing there, laughing maniacally, a mad grin on his face, then his body began to shake and he fell to the ground.

Suddenly his laughter turned to screams, as Bonnie came striding out of the trees, chanting a spell, she raised her hand, causing Klaus to scream in agony. The fire returned to the altar and spread into the trees, her magic all around them as she channeled every ounce of power she possessed, bringing the hybrid to his knees.

Then she choked on her words, gasping for air, looking around for the source.

"Get the witch!" Stefan yelled, pointing to Klaus' witch, still standing at the altar, her hand outstretched.

Bonnie raised her hands, trying to focus her power, but she was struggling, and you could see the strain on her face.

The witch threw Bonnie into the air, knocking her out, her body hitting the ground.

Damon ran for the witch, and tackled her, his teeth sinking into her neck. He killed her instantly, her body going limp in his arms.

The fire disappeared, the flames extinguishing, the magic disappearing. A deadly quiet settling over everything.

Suddenly, you felt a hand in your hair, dragging you backwards, the pain making you scream.

"Elijah!" Klaus roared into the woods, "I know you are out there, show yourself!"

You saw Elijah walk out of the trees, and into the clearing, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were locked on yours.

Klaus's fingers dug into your scalp, and he pulled harder, forcing you to your knees between them.

"What a sight," Klaus mocked, grinning at Elijah.

"Hello, brother," Elijah said, his eyes still locked on yours.

"You've come to kill me?" Klaus said, chuckling. "How is that working out for you?"

He pulled you back to your feet, your whole body trembling.

"Actually, I've come to make you an offer," Elijah said, taking a step closer, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Oh," Klaus said, amused. "An offer, I wonder what that might be,"

"Spare them, and I will pledge my loyalty to you," Elijah said, his voice soft, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're lying," Klaus growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fangs grazing your skin. "You're only offering yourself, so I won't kill her. That's not true loyalty,"

You saw Damon lift Elena's body into his arms, carrying her to Stefan. Then he pulled the stake out of Stefan's back, allowing him to move again.

"Elijah," Stefan called, his voice shaky. "You need to finish this,"

"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "Klaus will kill her,"

Damon rushed to Bonnie's side, trying to wake her up, and Klaus laughed, his lips pressed against your ear.

"Run to your love, if you make it I'll let you live," he whispered, shoving you forward.

You stumbled, your legs barely able to support you, then you started running towards Elijah, tears streaming down your face.

You made it to him, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, he was murmuring soft words into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. And you finally felt safe again.

"Are you okay?" He asked, pulling away to look at you, his fingers brushing the hair from your face.

"Yes," you said softly, your hand gripping his jacket.

You were staring up at him, his brown eyes were warm and full of worry, and you had forgotten how much you missed him.

"Good," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours.

Your lips met his at the same time you felt something strange in your back. An odd pressure that made you gasp into his mouth.

You pulled away from Elijah, there was a strange look on his face, his mouth falling open, and he looked down at you, a look of pure terror in his eyes.

For the first time in centuries, you felt cold, the world was spinning around you. You knew what was happening, 

Your hand pressed against his chest, you could feel his heart beating against your palm. You looked up into his brown eyes one last time.

"Rule three, my love," you whispered, before your life faded away, and your body fell against him.

Elijah looked down at you, your skin rapidly turning gray, your eyes vacant. Then he looked up at Klaus, who held your heart in his hands.

"This is for betraying me," Klaus said, dropping the organ at his feet, the blood running down the stone steps.

Elijah stood there, his arms wrapped around your lifeless body, his whole world was crumbling.

He could hear Stefan and Damon screaming, but it sounded far away, the own beating of his heart drowning out the rest.

Klaus grabbed Elijah by the neck, forcing him to drop your body, and shoved him to the ground.

"Look at her, the way she's staring up at the stars, it's quite beautiful, isn't it?" Klaus mocked, as Elijah watched you, lifeless on the cold stone. "And it's all because of you,"

Elijah looked away, a tear falling down his cheek, his brother's words cutting into him.

"You're pathetic," Klaus hissed, his hands gripping Elijah's jacket, your blood staining the fabric. "To think you could beat me,"

Elijah closed his eyes, trying to block out his brother's words, but it was no use, his mind was replaying every moment with you. Knowing he would never taste your lips again, or hear your laugh. You would never fall asleep in his arms.

He looked over at Damon, who had rushed to your body. He was holding you, rocking you back and forth in his arms, with Stefan by his side, his face stained with tears, a look of anguish on his face.

Elijah's world was fading away, as he was overcome with rage and anguish, a darkness consuming him, and Klaus just kept talking, his voice becoming more and more distant. 

Then something within him snapped, a creature that was lurking underneath his skin came bursting through, a monster taking the place of the gentleman.

He turned his attention back to his brother, and Klaus froze, the fear clear in his eyes.

Damon watched as Elijah pushed Klaus backwards, causing him to fly across the clearing, skidding along the dirt, landing a few feet away.

Elijah walked in a slow, deliberate pace towards Klaus , his expression devoid of any emotion.

"You're right, Klaus," Elijah said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "We are not the same,"

Klaus tried to stand, but Elijah shoved him back down, he grabbed Klaus leg and twisted it until it snapped. Klaus howled in agony, and Elijah smiled, twisting the other leg, and his brother's screams were echoing through the night.

"You want to be a beast?" Elijah growled, pulling Klaus into the air by his neck, his hands wrapped around his throat. "Let me help you,"

Damon felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Bonnie was standing there, her eyes full of sorrow.

"Damon," she whispered, tears running down her face.

"Go, help Elijah," he said, his voice hollow. "I'll stay here with her,"

Bonnie nodded, she stood up, her body trembling. Stefan jumped to his feet to help her stay upright, and she began to chant once more. 

The altar burst into flames for a third time, illuminating Klaus and Elijah in a ring of fire as they struggled against each other.

"What is this?" Klaus yelled, pushing Elijah away, trying to fight the pain. "What have you done?"

"Something that should have been done centuries ago," Elijah growled, rushing towards his brother, knocking him down, pinning him to the dirt, his hand raised.

"In the name of our family, Niklaus...," Elijah said, plunging his hand into his brother's chest, curing his fingers around Klaus's heart. "In the name of her..."

"I didn't bury them at sea!" Klaus yelled, his hand trying to pry Elijah's away. "They are safe, I swear,"

Elijah looked at him, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"I can take you to them," Klaus pleaded, his hands gripping Elijah's wrist. “Their bodies are safe. If you kill me, you'll never find them,”

"Elijah, don't listen to him," Stefan yelled, walking towards them.

"Brother, please," Klaus begged. "She wouldn't want this, please,"

Your beautiful face flashed through Elijah's mind, and he looked back at Damon, who was kneeling there, tears in his eyes, clutching your body.

"You're wrong, Klaus," Elijah growled, his hand squeezing the organ in his grip. "She would want this,"

Then he tore Klaus's heart from his chest, and watched the life fade from his brother's eyes.

Klaus's body dropped to the ground, his heart still beating in Elijah's hand, and the flames died down, leaving the clearing in silence. 

Bonnie walked up to him, looking down at the flames. 

"Good," She said, her voice hoarse.

Elijah looked back at Stefan and Damon, they were kneeling next to your body, Stefan's hand caressing your cheek. 

Elijah rushed over to you, looking down at your peaceful face, you almost looked like you were sleeping.

Elijah brushed the hair from your face, his hands were shaking. He couldn't understand how something so beautiful could be snuffed out so easily.

"Don't touch her," Damon said, pulling you away from Elijah.

"You did this," Damon snapped, glaring at Elijah. "It's your fault she's dead,"

Elijah nodded and stepped away, Damon was right, it was his fault.

"Damon," Stefan said, reaching for his brother.

"No, he has to answer for this," Damon said, getting to his feet, your body in his arms.

"It's over Damon," Bonnie said softly, looking up at him. "It's over,"

Damon looked down at you, and tears started to stream down his cheeks. He was shaking, and Stefan reached for him, the two of them clinging to each other, your body between them.

"I think it's best you leave," Bonnie said, her eyes filled with sadness. "Please, go,"

Elijah nodded, his heart breaking as he looked down at your lifeless form, knowing this was his fault.

"Where will you go?" Stefan asked, as he wiped his eyes.

"I need to find my siblings," he said softly, looking away from the sight. "With Klaus dead, everyone he compelled will be free, I'll follow the clues they left behind,"

He looked back at you, and his heart shattered.

"Will you be okay?" Stefan asked, his hand on Elijah's shoulder.

"One day," he replied, turning to look at him, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," Stefan said softly.

Elijah gave them a small nod, then disappeared into the trees, heading far away from Mystic Falls. His heart forever bound to yours. 

~Epilogue

Time changes all things, this was something Damon had the basics of understanding, but nothing could prepare him for how it would affect him when he became human again.

He was an old man, something he never expected to experience, and yet there he was.

"Are you ready?" Elena asked, her hand on his arm.

"Always," he answered, his voice weak, but his smile was genuine.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her eyes still as bright and beautiful as the day he met her.

The walk to the Salvatore family crypt was slow, and the pain in his joints was unbearable. He hated getting old.

They entered the stone building, and Damon let go of Elena's arm, making his way over to your stone. He placed his hand on it, the smoothness soothing his calloused hand.

"Hi sis," he said, smiling down at the stone. "It's been a while, i've been so busy,"

He took a seat in the chair next to your grave, he had brought it decades ago. He was a man who liked his comfort, and he spent hours talking to you, catching you up on everything that had happened since the last time he was there.

"I have grandkids now! Can you believe it? They are the cutest, I even named a boy after you, well, the closest we could come, but, yeah," he said, a wide grin on his face.

Damon looked over at Elena, who was laying flowers at Stefan's grave. She was the only one left, and he was so grateful for her.

"I miss you and Stefan so much," Damon said softly. "But it won't be long now until I see you again,"

There was an awkward cough and Damon looked up to see a delivery boy standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

"I have a delivery for Miss Y/n Salvatore," he said, walking up to him, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"She's not exactly up for company," Damon said with a chuckle, gesturing to your stone.

"I know, this actually isn't my first time doing this," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Actually, the guy who use to deliver along this route said that he's been delivering here once a week for his entire fourty year career,"

Damon stood up slowly, his bones protesting the movement. He held his hand out and the boy handed him the flowers.

"Thanks, kid," Damon said, sitting back down, there was a note tucked in with the flowers.

The boy gave him a little wave before disappearing.

Elena came to sit next to him, her hand on his knee, she gave him a sad smile. "What does it say?"

Damon pulled out his glasses, and read it out loud, a tear rolling down his cheek.

For a thousand years, I had never known love, until you, and for a thousand more, I will wait for you. 

-Elijah

Rule one: When we are together, it will just be us, no one will know.

Rule two: No talk of business or family, don't get personal.

Rule three: When it's over, it's over.

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}

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The Sun Eats the Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping, pregnancy kink(?))

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

WC: 9.4k

𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓𖤓

You wanted to quit the second you read the name. 

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place. 

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now. 

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client. 

"Is everything alright?" 

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke. 

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired." 

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited. 

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics. 

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention. 

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice. 

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps. 

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes. 

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face. 

Nothing. 

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next. 

"I look forward to working with all of you."                                     

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial. 

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order. 

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way. 

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too. 

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you. 

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?" 

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks." 

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours. 

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms. 

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching. 

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru. 

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch. 

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. 

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines. 

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted. 

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class. 

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it. 

"What?" Because you must have misheard him. 

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official." 

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours. 

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop. 

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine. 

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore. 

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

𖤓

It was something minuscule. 

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always. 

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey. 

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her. 

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out." 

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life." 

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger. 

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru. 

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help. 

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that. 

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break. 

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing. 

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator. 

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!" 

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle. 

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you. 

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. 

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him. 

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that. 

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him. 

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back. 

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down. 

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it. 

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares. 

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything. 

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend. 

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg. 

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open. 

It's worse than anything you could think of. 

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you? 

This wasn't bullying. 

This was abuse. 

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired. 

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky. 

"Why?" 

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group. 

"Get lost." 

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone. 

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored. 

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-" 

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away. 

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?" 

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. 

"Anything, right?" 

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek. 

"Get on your knees." 

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little. 

"I-I-Gojo you-" 

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?" 

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru. 

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk. 

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him. 

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh. 

"Gojo I-" 

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems." 

You look down at the grass. Green, soft. 

"Satoru." 

His eyes flash in satisfaction. 

"Open up, pretty girl." 

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you. 

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought. 

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?" 

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame. 

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you. 

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth. 

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me." 

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world. 

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?" 

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it. 

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help. 

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath. 

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you." 

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum. 

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something." 

 You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him. 

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair. 

"My laptop...it's broken." 

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it. 

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you. 

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his. 

The sunset is pretty today. 

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied. 

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from. 

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?" 

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf. 

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait." 

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts. 

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her. 

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright. 

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting." 

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs. 

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way. 

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to. 

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go. 

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you. 

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable. 

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework. 

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips. 

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever. 

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom. 

"Thank-" 

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me." 

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself. 

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too. 

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him. 

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons. 

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?" 

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment. 

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken. 

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours. 

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now. 

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action. 

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone. 

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can. 

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch. 

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you." 

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock- 

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing. 

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you. 

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?" 

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again. 

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust. 

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper. 

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl." 

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar. 

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious. 

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him." 

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock. 

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch. 

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need. 

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt. 

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration. 

"I love you." 

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh. 

Fuck three weeks. 

You needed to get out, now. 

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there. 

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours. 

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out. 

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there. 

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room. 

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction. 

"You're off the clock, Fimo," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?" 

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke. 

The door shuts with a click. 

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward. 

You take one back. He puts his hands up. 

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?" 

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood. 

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody. 

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too. 

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes. 

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules." 

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked. 

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent. 

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless. 

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text." 

 His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake. 

You go to move. 

Satoru's faster. 

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment. 

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze. 

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness. 

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-" 

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt. 

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client. 

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him. 

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless. 

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears. 

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar." 

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words. 

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

 Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses. 

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now." 

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again. 

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic. 

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily. 

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?" 

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too. 

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall. 

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action. 

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar. 

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate. 

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate. 

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. 

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits. 

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed. 

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out. 

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear. 

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?" 

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that. 

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you." 

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his. 

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure. 

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom. 

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught. 

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl." 

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-" 

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-" 

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled. 

"I'll make sure it takes this time too." 

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea. 

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb. 

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine. 

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness. 

"I love you." 

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran. 

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me." 

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given. 

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation. 

wait… what about nanami fucking ino’s ass while ino fucks you as a way for nanami to “teach him” how to fuck you properly but it just ends with ino being so overstimulated between the two of you while nanami pounds his prostate and forces his cock in and out of you because of how hard nanami is pounding him — it would almost feel like nanami was fucking you himself

ino would be borderline crying into your neck about how warm it feels and how he’s never felt so full and so much before ^.^

(don’t ask for a full fic pls lol i was just sharing my thots ^3^)

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