starfish stark

Tony had been shamelessly flirting with you since the first day he laid eyes on you. Something about Pepper’s innocent little assistant just drove him absolutely nuts.

And those mini skirts you wore around the office? He could have sworn you were doing it just for him. And don’t even get him started on when you wore pants—your ass had never looked better.

So when he finally got you into his bed, he made sure you had the best seat in the house: his face.

You cute little innocent thing, you really thought you were going to hurt him if you put your full weight on him. To prove you wrong, he secured his strong hands around you, pinning you flush against him before he started expertly licking and sucking on your clit. You threw your head back in pure pleasure, the vibration of Tony's low groans echoing underneath you.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been eaten out, but it was definitely the first time a man had devoured you exactly the way God intended.

Tony was utterly lost, taking his sweet time to explore your folds with his expert tongue while his nose nudged at your clit, flicking it to absolute perfection.

Every flick of his tongue was precise, finding the exact rhythm that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He started sucking on your clit once again, pulling you into his mouth until you were whimpering his name, your hips helplessly rolling against his face.

He had never been so damn hard in his entire life. 

Unable to take it anymore, he slipped one of his hands down to the hem of his briefs, freeing his thick cock.

With your head still thrown back, you opened your heavy eyes, only to catch your reflection in the mirror on the ceiling directly above the bed.

“You like what you see?” Tony mumbled against you, noticing how you immediately bucked your hips against his mouth at the sight.

Your eyes stayed glued to the ceiling mirror, slowly tracking down from his broad chest and marked abs to where his hand was now rhythmically stroking his length. Your cheeks flushed a deep, breathless crimson.

“You like being dirty, don’t you?” he asked, though it sounded a whole lot more like a statement. 

You only bit your lip, nodding as a breathless gasp escaped you. The sheer sight of Tony Stark completely beneath you, driven absolutely crazy just by eating you out, was something you found mind-numbing, extremely hot.

You could stop looking at how he stroked himself. 

Tony smiled against your skin, his chest vibrating with a low laugh. “The shy ones are always the naughtiest,” he murmured, before immediately diving back into his ministrations.

“You’ve got us,” Geto adds. His fingers move from your cheek to your neck, just resting there. His hand is big enough that his thumb sits on one side of your throat and his fingers on the other, not squeezing, just… there. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“I know, but I can’t date you guys….” you say, and you mean it as a joke. Obviously. Because they’re your best friends and that would be weird. Right?

“Why not?” Shoko says it like she’s joking too, but something about her tone is off.

“Because you’re my friends, weirdo.” You lean your head back against her stomach, looking up at her upside down face. She’s so pretty it’s honestly unfair. Even from this angle. “You don’t date your friends. That’s like… rule number one of having friends.”

“Right,” Geto says… there’s something in his voice that you can’t quite read. “Friends.”

You don’t catch the way they all look at each other over your head. Don’t see Gojo’s grin or how Shoko’s fingers tighten in your hair or the way Geto’s jaw clenches like he’s physically restraining himself from saying something.

You’re too busy crying over a guy who isn’t worth your tears. Too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice the way all three of them are touching you… hands on your legs, in your hair, on your neck….. in a way that’s definitely crossed some invisible line.

Later, after they’ve calmed you down with food and too much wine and made you laugh despite everything…. Gojo doing his impression of Haruki’s spider scream, Shoko telling you about the absolute disaster of a date she went on last week (a lie, but you don’t know that), Geto putting on a stupid comedy special you love……. Gojo insists on walking you home.

His arm stays around your waist the entire way, even though you’re perfectly capable of walking on your own. Even when you’re in the elevator of your building and there’s literally nowhere for you to fall.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks when you reach your door. You’re fumbling with your keys because you’re still a bit drunk and your hands won’t cooperate.

“Yeah. Thanks for….”

He hugs you before you can finish. It’s tight…. tight enough that you make a small “oof” sound… his face buried in your neck, and it goes on just a bit too long. “Sleep well, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say into his shoulder. “You too.”

You don’t see the way he watches your door after you close it. Don’t see how he stands there in the hallway until he hears the lock click and the deadbolt slide into place. Don’t see the way his expression shifts into something that would probably scare you if you could see it.

☽☽☽.

“She cried for thirty fucking minutes,” Shoko says. She’s lighting a cigarette in Geto’s living room. “Over that limp dick loser.”

“He cried longer,” Gojo says cheerfully. He’s lying on the couch, looking entirely too pleased with himself, legs spread out and head tipped back against the cushions. “Pissed himself too when Suguru started with the knife.”

“He kept saying he loved her,” Geto says. He’s washing his hands in the kitchen sink. There’s still some blood under his fingernails. The water runs pink, then clear. “Had to gag him. The warehouse walls are thick but not that thick.”

“Where’d you dump him?” Shoko asks, taking a long drag. She’s examining her nails… she’d stayed behind for this one, played alibi, but she looks a little disappointed that she missed it.

“Same place as the others. The lake.” Geto dries his hands on a towel, inspecting them in the light. “Weighted him down properly this time. He’s fish food now. They’ll find him in spring maybe. If there’s anything left to find.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Comfortable silence that comes from knowing someone so well that you don’t need to fill the empty spaces.

“I love her so much it makes me want to break shit sometimes,” Gojo says suddenly and his voice has lost its cheerful tone. “Like, I see her smile at some random asshole and I genuinely want to cave his skull in.”

Shoko takes another drag, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “How long do you think until she figures it out?”

“Does it matter?” Gojo shrugs… and the grin is back. “Where’s she gonna go? Who’s she gonna tell? No bodies, no evidence. And even if she did know….”

“We’re not letting her go,” Geto finishes. “Ever.”

The cigarette smoke curls in the air between them, and somewhere across the city, you’re falling asleep in your bed, completely unaware that the three people you trust most in the world have killed for you four times now.

And they’ll do it again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​